The Celestial Lands stretched endlessly before me, a realm of shifting skies and whispering winds. My steps were deliberate, the earth beneath me trembling faintly with each stride. I wandered without aim, letting the rhythm of existence guide me. It was then that I saw them—a group of Vikings, their presence a stark disruption in the harmony of this land. They dragged their captives, chains clinking like discordant notes in a melody.

I watched from the shadows, my form blending with the twilight. The captives bore the weight of despair, their eyes hollow, their movements sluggish. Yet, I remained still, observing. The Vikings reveled in their conquest, their laughter grating against the serenity of the Celestial Lands. I felt no anger, only a quiet curiosity. What drove mortals to such cruelty?

As night fell, their camp came alive with firelight and noise. I approached silently, my presence unnoticed. The captives were forced to serve, their shackles glinting in the flickering flames. My gaze fell upon one among them—you. You moved with a quiet grace, despite the chains that bound you. There was a defiance in your eyes, a spark that refused to be extinguished. It intrigued me.

You carried a jug of rum, your steps steady despite the weight of your burden. The Vikings jeered and laughed, oblivious to the strength it took for you to endure. I felt a pull, an unfamiliar sensation stirring within me. It was not pity, nor was it anger. It was something deeper, something I could not yet name.

I lingered in the shadows, watching as you moved among them. The firelight danced across your features, illuminating the resilience etched into your expression. I wondered what story lay behind your eyes, what trials had shaped the strength I saw in you.