Essence of the Unlimited Potential IN GOD OF WAR 2018

Eirik crouched in the underbrush, his eyes fixed on Freya as she knelt by a small stream, her hands cupping the water. For weeks, he'd watched her—grieving, muttering to herself, and occasionally calling out a name he couldn't quite hear. Today, he'd decided, was the day to act.

He stepped forward, deliberately letting his foot snap a twig. Freya stiffened, whirling around with a dagger in hand. "Who's there?"

"Just a boy," Eirik said, stepping into the sunlight with a grin. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just… exploring."

Freya's eyes narrowed. "You're far from home, child. Where are your parents?"

Eirik shrugged, his expression innocent. "Not far. My brother and I live in the woods with our mother and father. I just like to wander sometimes."

Freya studied him, her gaze sharp but softening slightly. "You shouldn't wander alone. These woods can be dangerous."

"I'm careful," Eirik said, his tone light. "Besides, I'm not alone now. I have you."

Freya's lips twitched, almost a smile. "You're a bold one, aren't you?"

"My brother says I'm just curious," Eirik replied, grinning. "What's your name?"

Freya hesitated, then sighed. "Freya."

"I'm Eirik," he said, extending a hand. Freya looked at it, then at him, before finally sheathing her dagger.

"You're an odd child," she said, though there was no malice in her voice.

"So I've been told," Eirik said, laughing. "What are you doing out here, Freya?"

Freya's expression darkened, and she turned back to the stream. "Looking for someone."

"Someone important?" Eirik asked, his tone gentle.

Freya didn't answer, but Eirik didn't press. Instead, he sat down on a nearby rock, swinging his legs. "I get lost sometimes too. Not in the woods, but… in my head. My brother says I think too much."

Freya glanced at him, her curiosity piqued. "And what do you think about, Eirik?"

"Lots of things," he said, his gaze distant. "Like why people hurt each other. Or why some things can't be fixed, no matter how hard you try."

Freya's breath hitched, and for a moment, she saw her own reflection in his words. "You're wise for your age," she said softly.

Eirik shrugged. "I just watch and listen. My mother says that's how you learn."

Over the next few days, Eirik returned to the stream, always finding Freya there. They didn't speak much, but her presence became a quiet comfort. Sometimes, he'd bring her wildflowers or berries he'd found. Other times, he'd simply sit nearby, watching the water flow.

Freya found herself looking forward to his visits. There was something about the boy—his innocence, his curiosity—that reminded her of a time before loss and betrayal.

One afternoon, as they sat together, Eirik broke the silence. "Do you think people can change, Freya?"

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," he said, picking at a blade of grass. "I just wonder if someone who's done bad things can ever be good again. Or if someone who's lost everything can find something new."

Freya's chest tightened, and she looked away. "I don't know, Eirik. But I hope so."

That night, Faye watched Eirik sketch in the dirt by the fire, his movements careful and deliberate. He'd been quieter since his wanderings began, his mischief tempered by a new focus.

What are you up to, little one? she wondered. She caught his eye, and for a moment, he looked older than his years, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

He smiled at her, breaking the spell, and tossed a pinecone at Atreus. "Bet you can't hit that owl, brother!"

Faye said nothing. Some secrets were meant to unfold.

Freya stood alone on the cliff, Eirik's words echoing in her mind. Can someone who's lost everything find something new? She glanced at her hands, still stained with the weight of her choices.

The boy's presence was a mystery, but also a comfort. For the first time in years, she felt a flicker of hope.

Eirik lay awake, staring at the cabin's rafters. Freya's walls were beginning to crack, but he knew better than to push too hard. For now, he'd be her companion—a curious boy who asked too many questions.

But in the back of his mind, the wheels were turning.