top of page
Search
Writer's pictureLaurel Knight

Valkyrie Fallen Chapter 35


Brenna

First, I collected my Valkyrian blade from the longhouse. Sword in hand, I marched up the barn and ignored the men who paused in their discussion of the boat when I entered. Instead of joining them, I climbed to the loft and retrieved my hidden bag of armor.
“Brenna?” Björn’s voice called, confused.
“Just… give me a minute, okay? I need to talk to you all. I’ll be right down.” As quickly as I was able, I slipped on all the pieces of my armor, aside from the breastplate and collar. Replacing my woolen dress, I carried the much lighter bag, along with my sword, back down the ladder.
Søren’s sharp gaze tracked my movements carefully, as if he was prepared for me to do absolutely anything, given that I’d turned up with my sword in hand. Leif just smiled warmly with his perfect mouth, and Björn lifted an eyebrow. “You… wanted to talk to us?”
Here goes nothing. “Yes. I have appreciated your kindness, and your trust, and your honesty with me. And I know that I have been less than forthcoming with you all. I’ve told you precious little about my history, and I-“
“Brenna, if you aren’t ready to tell us everything, it’s alright,” Björn interrupted, glancing meaningfully at the other two. “We understand if-”
“Let the woman speak, Björn.” Søren’s voice, while not as deep as the much larger man’s, rang with authority. Björn glanced at him sharply, but didn’t say another word.
Sighing, I began again. “I know you have questions about where I come from and how I ended up here, and I’ve given you vague answers. I’m going to tell you the truth, but I need you to understand now that it will sound… impossible. Just know that in the end, when I’ve finished, I will prove it to you. I only ask that you listen carefully to what I say and… try to believe me.”
My eyes tracked from Björn’s deep ocean blue gaze, to Leif’s bright azure, and finally to Søren’s suspicious leaf green stare. He nodded slightly, encouraging me to continue.
I opened my mouth and immediately choked on my desiccated throat. After a brief coughing fit, I swallowed some moisture to soothe the tickle and tried again.
“I told you I was from a village where I’d essentially been enslaved by the chieftain to do his bidding, and that I escaped hoping to start over.
“This is the basic truth of my story, but the reality is much larger, and more complicated, than that sounds. Just… once again, please try to hear me out before you stop listening. I promise I will prove my story is true.” I drew in a deep breath and just forced myself to spit it out.
“The truth is that I am a valkyrie. Yes, those valkyries, who select the Victorious Fallen from among the dead, and send them to Valhalla.” I waited for some kind of reaction, but they all simply stared at me.
Taking this as a good sign, I continued. “But the truth is far more complicated than that. The story you know of the valkyries is a falsehood. We came from the tenth realm of Odin’s domain… or what used to be the tenth realm. Odin decided he wanted the valkyries for himself, to serve him on Asgard. Our sacred, sworn duty was to protect Valkyr and all the people on it. Odin was far more powerful than us and destroyed our home in his quest to enslave every last valkyrie.
“He brought us to Asgard to be his servants, but he soon realized valkyries were terrible housemaids.” The memory brought a wry smile to my lips. “Eventually we struck a bargain: we’d stop attempting to kill him and instead perform the service of selecting the warriors to fill the halls of Valhalla, if he returned our armor and swords and allowed us to live in Valhalla as well.
“When Odin captured us, he took away our swords and armor. What he didn’t realize was that they were no simple weapons. Through the ancient magic of Valkyr, we imbued these items with our very life force, and in return, we lived forever to serve Valkyr. We won’t die unless these nearly indestructible items get destroyed. Our swords became our hearts, so that we might never strike down a person who was pure of heart. They can read the intent of a person, telling us if the person is worthy of living on. If their intent was good or evil. If they have goodness in their heart or only darkness.
“We imbue our armor with our spirit, you might say our soul. In addition to its myriad of gifts, the armor protects us, heals us, helps us retain our own connection to other living things. When Odin took these items away, he literally took away our hearts, our souls. We were dark, empty beings devoid of love or hope. It was a terrible time for us, and the return of them restored us. We were willing to do Odin’s bidding in order to be whole again.”
I paused, not really sure how to explain the next part.
“Okay… but that doesn’t really explain how you got here?” Leif encouraged gently. “If you were happy doing Odin’s bidding, why are you here now?”
“I didn’t say I was happy doing Odin’s bidding. I said we—the valkyries as a whole—were willing to do it in order to become whole again. But it wore on me. What you don’t understand, what no one on Midgard understands, is that Valhalla is a terrible place. Yes, it’s beautiful, and yes, there is a glorious battle every day and there is feasting every night.
“But do you realize what is not there? Your families. Everyone you’ve ever loved. If they are not among the chosen, the Victorious Fallen, they go on to another plane of existence. The chosen are stuck in a purgatory, forced to repeat the same thing day in and day out, for eternity, until Ragnarok. They enjoy it at first, they drink and they fight and they celebrate their power, their strength, their glory.
“And then, quietly at night, they begin to realize we have tricked them. They are not surrounded by their loved ones, and they have games and feasts yet are starving for something that actually matters to them. They weep, every one. Every insurmountable warrior you’ve ever known who has died gloriously on the battlefield; imagine him weeping into his pillow at night, wishing the valkyries had never chosen him to go to Valhalla. They begged us to send them back, to make them cease to exist at all, to send them wherever their families went.
“We were powerless to fulfill those requests. Once chosen for Valhalla, you remain there until Ragnarok. And the weight, the pressure of that role, crushed me. The crying kept me awake at night, tore at my mind, until eventually I told Odin I could no longer do it. I refused to send one more poor, misled viking warrior to Valhalla knowing he’d end up crying into his pillow at night.
“As you can imagine, Odin didn’t take that well. Since he couldn’t compel me to do his bidding, he punished me. Knowing that taking away both my sword and my armor would turn me into a being who didn’t care at all, Odin stripped me of my armor but allowed me to keep my sword.” 
I held up my weapon and presented it handle first so they might examine it. 
“It is a Valkyrian blade; I promise you have never seen its equal. It will not dull, it will not rust, it will not fade or tarnish. Go ahead, you can hold it.” 
Søren was the first to grab the pommel and examine it closer. His face betrayed no emotion, but his green eyes glowed as they took in the detailed carving on the blade and the exquisite handle and cross guard.
“Deprived of my armor, Odin banished me to Midgard. Unable to move on, unable to be complete or whole or even truly happy without my spirit, and stuck to live through every age of man and occasionally do Odin’s bidding.”
Søren had passed my blade to Björn, and Leif was still listening with rapt attention. “So, that’s how you ended up here?”
I rubbed a palm over my forehead. “Yes, basically. Odin banished me here to suffer.” It seemed as if this was plenty of truth to tell him for now. I wasn’t sure the fact that I’d already lived through these ages of man, and then had time rewound like a watch and ended up here for a second time, was really important to share at this point.
“It’s a very intriguing story,” Søren began slowly, “and also completely insane. What kind of idiots do you take us for?” The hard edge to his tone did not surprise me, even though my heart sunk just a little to hear it.
“Søren… you said you have instincts about people. Are those instincts telling you I’m lying, or is that only your human brain warring against how you feel?”
He frowned, then shook his head as if to clear it. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. What I know is that the things you say are impossible. I asked you to tell us the truth as a show of trust, and this is what you tell us. Fairy stories. Gods and valkyries and magic. I should have known better.” The disgust on his face hurt, but I wasn’t surprised.
“Did you forget I promised to prove it? If I were to prove myself, I expect you to keep my secret. I require your word, on your honor, that you will not tell another soul.”
Søren sniffed. “What, a fancy sword? It is nice, I admit it. I haven’t ever seen anything as fine as that blade. That doesn’t mean it’s magical.”
He was starting to piss me off. “Look, you wanted my truth, and I told you. I will show you something even you can’t deny, but I demand your promise not to reveal me to anyone else. Give me your word, or take me at mine. Trust goes both ways.”
Björn’s eyes were serious as he handed my sword to Leif. “I give you my word, Brenna, I will not betray your trust.”
Leif nodded. “Yes, me too, you have my word.”
All three of us turned to look at Søren, who stared at me for an interminable moment. Finally, he said, “If you show me something incredible, irrefutable proof that these stories you’ve relayed are true, I promise not to reveal your secrets to anyone else.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my skull, but I accepted that was probably the best I’d get from him.
Reaching into the sack at my feet, I retrieved the breastplate of my armor. When I pulled it out, Björn’s eyes grew as big as saucers, and Leif gasped audibly. Søren raised a brow, but didn’t say a word.
“Is that the armor Odin took from you? How did you get it?”
“Loki brought it to me,” I confessed, almost afraid to admit that out loud in case Odin was watching. “The third night I was here, he appeared and I stashed it in the barn. Björn, you remember how the day we plowed the oat field I suddenly had so much more strength, more resilience? This is why. I wore my armor for a while, slipped out while you were all asleep. I’ve done it every night since. It’s also what has helped me heal Signe’s ankle. I was never one of the Valkyrian healers, but I have a small amount of energy I can direct, share, to help someone heal themselves. That’s why she’s improved so rapidly.”
Björn and Leif both stepped closer to examine the breastplate, their reflections distorted in the gleaming metal.
“It’s very pretty, but I’d hardly consider that irrefutable proof, Brenna.” Søren’s tone was deeply sarcastic. “If this is the best you’ve got, I suggest you pack up your things and head off now.”
“Listen, I’ve had enough of your shit,” I snapped, wheeling on Søren with a surge of anger. “Just stay here.” I carried the breastplate to the other side of the ship, where they wouldn’t see me whip off my dress and attach the metal piece over my bare breasts. Once it was in place, I braced for my wings to emerge, then drew in a deep breath and stepped into view.
11 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comentarios


bottom of page