CHAPTER 1: THE ARRIVAL
A ship sailed from the turbulent coastal waters of the Kingdom of the Geats, a prosperous land under the command of the great King Hygelac, unique among his lineage, outstanding among warriors, and wise even among the wise. He himself bade farewell and gave his blessing to the vessel as it left its wake on the high seas, disappearing into the vastness of the waters.
On board, a select group of warriors rowed toward their next adventure. They were commanded by an exceptional man, whose deeds elevated him to a category few of his lineage had reached. With his gaze fixed on the horizon, he watched the last vestiges of light fade from the sky. Night approached, and with it, a darkness that enveloped the ocean in its finitude.
-My lord, the sun sets beneath the dawn- a voice whispered to him. These were the words of Stian, the ship's captain, a man as tenacious and loyal as any, though with a wandering mind, which explained his profession.
-Lord?- Stian said again, this time with an air of uncertainty in his words.
-Forgive me, Stian,- the young lord replied, -I wasn't paying attention.-
-It's alright lord, I too get lost in the beauty of the seas sometimes,- Stian replied with a half-smile on his face.
-Yes, well,- said the young lord, but his words echoed with a sound of concern in the air.
-Is there something troubling you, my lord?- Stian asked.
-Yes, I just sense that our lives will change after this endeavor we're embarking on; the gods have placed an immense burden on me,- the young lord replied. On his face, a fixed gaze reflected the deepest part of his being. On the walls of his psyche, the vines of fear danced to the rhythm of the thoughts that his mere consciousness paraded before his blue eyes.
-But my lord, are you not the great Beowulf?- Stian said, with a determined gaze that reflected the admiration and loyalty he had for his lord. -Is your name not sung in the best ballads? And is not your presence exalted in your uncle's court? Is your eminence not praised even by our enemies? Then I ask you, what do you fear? There is no enterprise so great or enemy so fierce that a sword cannot cut or an arrow cannot pierce.-
Beowulf, attentive to what his loyal companion was saying, responded: -Old friend, do not be mistaken, do not fall into the sin of pride. A man is not one who strives and boasts of his exploits, but rather, on the contrary, seeks a purpose within them. For what am I but a simple servant; For behold, I have been granted the gifts I possess to do good, but in my being there is not an ounce of will to be what I am called to do. My heart is flooded with desires, doubt, and fear. And make no mistake, my friend, it is not fear of the greatness or ferocity of my enemies; superficial wounds heal quickly. No, I speak of the deeper ones, those that merge with your being, for in every battle my enemies perish, but a piece of my humanity leaves with them.-