He stared up at the beast, confused. It wasn’t as if he had asked to be here. “I hunt a draugr, a creature of Darkness that has threatened my people,” he said, trying not to let his trepidation come out in his words. “I lost my weapons and when I saw the sword I…”
At the mention of the blade there was a flash and for an instant the snake was gone and Gavin again saw the ice pedestal with the embedded weapon. The moment passed and the snake was once more before him, its jeweled eyes shining even more brightly.
“You…you are the sword!” he said, somehow certain of the knowledge.
*I am the ssspirit of the sssword, * the snake’s mental voice corrected, *what are you? *
“I am Gavin White-Fury, of the Tribe of Fenrir.” He kept his tone respectful. Whatever this sword/snake was, it was certainly a thing of power. “I am on a Proving, a quest to earn my right to be a Warrior of the Tribe. That is why I seek the draugr.”
*Isss that your only reassson? * the creature asked, its tone growing disapproving.
Gavin considered the question. He thought about the shepherds, about their senseless deaths. “No,” he answered slowly. “I do seek to prove my worth and earn my place, but should my task go unlauded I would still pursue this creature, for it is of the Dark and needs to be stopped.”
*Yesss,* the snake said with a slight nod of its head, *it isss an abomination and mussst be dessstroyed.* There was suddenly anger in the creature’s words, a cold, unyielding rage that Gavin somehow knew was directed toward the draugr and not at him.
“You hate this thing?” Gavin couldn’t help but ask.