3500 years ago, something peculiar happened.

Scandinavia, at this time, was still a rough land with barely any cultured people. There were a few villages, fewer still that did not succumb to the ever existing threat of barbarians. One such a village housed a concept that wasn't quite common in this area just yet. Slavery. They thrived on taking slaves from barbarians and rivalling villages, only to use them as workers for their fields and houses. As a result to this new concept, there was not one person in this village above the age of 12 that couldn't swing a club or hatchet. On regular, the slaves were used as practice dummies for the militarised civilians, thus causing them to greatly fear their owners. The village which held these people, was called Kjarn.

The slaves of Kjarn recieved their own denisen to remain in when they were not occupied with their work. These buildings, made from the hay and floatwood that was found on the edges of the village, offered the slaves little comfort. But little topped none. Their masters might have been cruel, but they understood that slaves could die too. Dead slaves were useless and so they cared for them when necesarry. It was in these denisens that one of the slaves was born. During a night where the moon was at its fullest, the villages air was filled with the cries of a birthing slave. Her child was coming.

By early dawn, the new slave had come to see the light of day for the very first time. A small boy that shared none of the familiar colors and appearances of Scandinavian people. This abnormality in the childs appearance unsettled the villagers greatly, as nearly none of the villagers had ever even seen people with hair other than blonde. The purple eyes being even more rare than this did not help at all. It did not take long before both slave and slaver walked around the mother and her child in a wild circle, fearing the alien in their midst.

The shaman of the village had heard of the extraordinary child and came to see it. He was a man of renown in the village. A rugged man dressed in untampered animal pelts and reeking of blood. It was his magic what made him respected, as not many supernaturals lived in these parts of the world. He gave counseling and advice to the villagers, in exchange he would be left to his rituals undisturbed. This arrangement had been set for years, and this visit of his was part of the arrangement. He was supposed to advice the village over the child, and explain why it looked so strange. As was the command of their leader. The shaman was led through Kjarn, past the many pine houses that made up the village.

When he found the slave boy in its crib, he stood back in fear immediately. He had locked eyes with the child for a singular moment, and realised idea in his head. The idea that difference could only mean a coming of evil. The mad man shouted preaches of the child being "Ragnarok" and demanded the execution of the slaves to immediately take place. The villagers were hesitant, but obliged to the supposed wise man and his spiritual guidance. It was no secret that the shaman was mad, but he had warded disaster before, so the villagers would believe the shaman in his supposed wisdom.

By midnight, with the moon once more shining down onto the housing, executions started. The villagers rushed into the denizens with their weapons of war and began to kill with disregard. A many slave fell to the bloody slaughter that was wrought by the villagers as all fell to flame and axe. But alas, the child was left unhurt. It had not been there that evening, slipping through the hands of the villagers.

An outsider had arrived in the midst of night, motivated by a divine order. The stranger had helped the child, stealing it from its crib when no one was present to watch the child. This person, a mysterious and concealed woman, had arrived by boat. It was in this boat, barely capable of travel, that the woman sailed across the sea with the child. By time the villagers realised the child was gone, the child had already crossed over the horizon.
What now is Denmark, was now their destination. A single ship had been sent by the villagers, ordered to chase after the two. But they failed. The winds seemed to favour the stranger rather than the villagers. And so it was that the child and stranger arrived to shore. This was where they parted, the stranger leaving the child to the wild, with only a silver medalion to serve as the childs reminder of a time he'd never be able to remember.