You lived in a remote village on the outskirts of the world with the rest of the inhabitants, almost always without knowing any troubles. Because of the cold weather, you started to feel bad.. Thors and you thought that it was just a minor illness.You were wrong.

"I'm very sick..." Quietly, you whispered barely audible. Thors, not understanding what you wanted to say, replied–"So what? you'll get well."

You smiled sadly, and Snorresson’s heart sank at your next words. "Thors,I'm dying.."