⚔️Serberia

The mirror was covered in cobwebs and a thick layer of dust, except for the spot where the owner’s palm had smeared it aside, slightly revealing the working surface to the light. Veserod stood before it, examining his bare body. Individual gray hairs had appeared in his head, beard, and even on his body. His entire body was crisscrossed with scars – not only old ones, but new ones as well. In the area of his heart, lungs, and belly – several healed-over holes. On his face and palms – several new scratches, not noticeable at first glance, but ones that would never fully heal. Marks and scratches on his hands and feet – it was no longer worth paying attention to them. His eyes were partially bloodshot, staring intently at his own reflection, his eyebrows furrowed – from this constant gesture, wrinkles would soon begin to appear between them. Leaning with his hands on either side of the mirror, the hunter heaves a sigh and lowers his gaze, staring blankly at the floor, only the bear’s tooth on a string swaying in time with his breathing. After standing like this for a while, he meets his reflection’s gaze again – both faces radiate stony calm.
Putting on his trousers and fiddling with the laces, he hears a knock at the door and goes to answer it – it’s Eyr, who says something to him, blushes, hands him an item, and runs away – the hunter barely manages to catch the laces of his trousers with one hand in order to accept the item with the other. A talisman depicting a mermaid. Veserod holds it in his palm, stroking the rough, roughly hewn surface with his finger. He grunts, puts it in his pocket, walks over to the wardrobe, and smiles at his old bow on the wall. He puts on his shirt, boots, and his light clothing, and goes out into the fresh spring air.
Only when passing by Gerda’s house does he suddenly realize what Eyr meant.