"Ivar Lodbrok..."
Inside the room, Hebode whispered the familiar name. He raised his head and looked at the dim ceiling, not knowing what he was thinking.
Lorenzo guessed that Heberd was reading a novel in the room, but he was only half right.
The desk lamp emitted a warm light, making the whole room cozy, but this light could not dispel the haze in Hebod's heart. It was like a flickering candle flame, as if it would be completely swallowed up by the darkness in the room in the next second.
Heberd leaned against the head of the bed with the book "Victoria's Secrets" between his knees. He read a few pages and tried to put aside those messy thoughts, but he couldn't do it. His mind was completely occupied by the task, and one expected scene after another flashed before his eyes.
He didn't tell Lorenzo that Hebod was actually one of Ivar's few friends... This is a bit inaccurate. To be precise, Hebod was one of the only people who was willing to approach Ivar, except for his brothers.
I closed my eyes and recalled the image of that guy in my mind.
In the Viking countries that advocated the use of force, every Viking looked so strong and powerful under the sculpture of the cold wind, but Ivar was the only one who was different. He was a thin guy and did not look fierce, but rather a little feminine. The worst thing was that he was disabled and could not stand.
Compared with his brave brothers, Ivar is so special. Some say he is the illegitimate son of the King of the Ice and Sea. Some say he is an ominous son whose feet were eaten by the devil before he was born. Others say he is the most beloved child of the King of the Ice and Sea. According to the Viking tradition, Ivar's congenital deformity would have been strangled to death in his cradle, but he survived.
In short, since his birth, he has been surrounded by various different words.
Before meeting Ivar for the first time, Hebode knew Ivar through these rumors. He was mentally prepared to meet this mysterious guy, but the result surprised him.
Heibode still remembers the first time he met Ivar. It was in an empty square. The cold wind was raging and passers-by were unwilling to stop here for long. Only that guy was like an outsider. He sat in a wheelchair and stretched out his hand to fiddle with the sea of flowers.
That was Ivar's favorite flower, a flower called ice heather. The flower looked very ordinary, just like an ordinary white wild flower.
It is very common in the Viking countries. In that freezing cold place, only this flower can miraculously survive and bloom. Its smell is very cool, like a cold wind blowing in your face. When you are in a sea of heather, people can't even tell whether it is the fragrance of flowers or a real cold wind.
Yes, that was that time.
"Hybod Aguilar, from today on I am your new guard."
Hebbold remembers saying so.
Ivar didn't respond. After a long time, he moved his wheelchair and turned his head.
Just as the rumors said, he was a thin guy. Years of paralysis caused all the muscles in his body to atrophy. His skin was a sickly pale and his face was thin, as if it had been cut by a knife.
At that moment, Hebod thought a lot. He felt that Ivar's life was a tragedy and his existence was a shame to the King of the Ice Sea. A guy like him was destined to be unable to go to the temple of Odin and attend the never-ending banquet.