A sharp inhale before a gasp desperately clinging to fill lungs full of air. Brown eyes parting open in shock as the bearded warrior quickly sat up in a cold sweat. Gentle furs fluttered from the muscled, toned chest of the man as it pooled into the covered lap. Chest bared and exposed, runic tattoos of devotion circled the right bicep as well as other small markings kissed his skin. Small, raised scars, white from flesh stitching together and healing after a blade had stung and pierced flesh. Rising up and down in rapid motion as eyes blinked in a blur as memory filtered back to his last moments alive in battle for his Clan. The sound of a war cry, skin and weapon soaked in the blood of his enemies before taken by surprise. An axe buried into his back, before a blade ripped through his guts.
He had died but right now he felt no pain. No gaping wound in his stomach, no scar left behind. Was it just a dream?
Initial thoughts quickly dismissed such a foolish idea that something so vivid could be just a dream. The bed he woke in was not his own nor was this cabin. The weapons that decorated the wall were of the highest craftsmanship and delicacy he had never seen before in his life save for the sword that his King carried into battle.
Nude form pushed out from underneath the furs as calloused feet planted onto the floorboards. They were so warm and inviting, easy on his feet. A feeling never felt before and quickly noticed. Almost relaxing, just to touch a floor of a cabin. Could this be? Had he actually arrived in the renowned halls of Valhalla?
His muscles and body felt the best they had ever in years. No longer were there aches or sore marks and bruises from training and battle. The healthiest he had ever been in his life as he rose to his feet and basked in the warmth of the sun that glittered through the open windows. The fresh breeze tickling across the skin and body hair of the fallen warrior. His soft, flaccid member bouncing against his thigh with the first step as he looked around for clothing that suited him and with luck and ease, he spotted a hand-woven chair with simple trousers and a tunic shirt laying on top. Grabbing the pair of clothes, he slipped into them and grabbed the rough looking brown boots nearby and slipped them on over his feet.
"I thought Valhalla would be more... lively." He spoke to himself out loud. So far, he only heard the sweet sounds of a beautiful forest outside of the cabin. The birds singing, the soft calls of elk deeper and running water. A bountiful river rushing nearby. He would need to find someone, surely, he was not alone in this beautiful place unless this was Hel and all just a cruel joke before succumbing to the depths. His life had only been devoted to battle. He had no wife and sired many children through the raids and pillages he carried out on fishing villages and small inland towns. He was a follower of Odin. The Allfather who watched over them all and would take only the bravest warriors that fell in battle to be his sworn eternal warriors in the afterlife. In Valhalla.
Foregoing a weapon. They were too ornate for his taste. Feeling unworthy of even holding such a finely crafted blade he opened the wooden door and stepped out. The sunlight was shining brightly and caused him to raise a hand to shade his eyes until they adjusted to the sight, and it was breathtaking. Trees spanned as far as the eye could see. The greenest grass he had ever seen in his life. Poking just over the treetops was a Hall! He could see it just from where he was, and it was massive. Truly a sight to behold that he soaked in.
That is where his brothers must be. He took a step forward before stopping in his tracks. His sense registering the crack of a branch to his right before his own mind even recognized why he had come to a stop, and to see what just was nearby as his head turned and saw her.
Inhaling the sweet scent of the air, Inkari closed her eyes as her powerful wings beat, holding her slight form aloft. Mornings were one of her favorite times. It was often too early for the the warriors to be up. No ringing of steel on steel, the grunts of exertion or skin on skin as a punch connected. Those sounds were pleasant in their own right, but there was something about the calm solitude of the morning that soothed her soul. Air rippled through her feathers, across her face and danced with her silver blonde hair, carrying it on the currents. Soon, she would have to leave the freedom the skies offered, but for a moment or two longer, she was well and truly free. Ahead of her was a day of combat, something to work out the tension in her muscles that never seemed to really fade. She also had to go welcome the Viking she had ferried to Valhalla the day before. It was part of her sacred duty that she performed for Odin.
Closing her wings Inkari closed her glacial blue eyes and bent backwards, falling from the sky. Wind ripped past her, tugging at her hair and clothing. The free fall was exhilarating and as she neared the earth below her wings snapped open, catching her and stopping the sudden plummet. The smile that curled upon her lips was fierce, beautiful and full of joy. Inkari wasn't the most beautiful of her sisters, she was far too short, delicate even. Though muscles rippled beneath her alabaster skin, it wasn't as defined. There were other assets that she lacked, but she had never missed the fullness of breasts or the hourglass figure that some of sisters had. That was until Skarde had left her for Yrsa. She had been everything Inkari had not. The wound, hundreds of years old, still ached when she saw the pair together. That betrayal had turned her once warm, loving heart to ice.
Landing near the cabin she tucked her wings behind her back, fingers smoothing the leather of her outfit. Dressed for combat later, the well worn two toned leather was molded to her supple body. It moved with her like a second skin, something she'd need for combat. Her boots were soundless over the grass as she made her way from the forest's edge towards him. He had been a handsome man in death and was no less so here in Valhalla. While Inkari could observe such a fact, she felt nothing as she gazed at him. No flicker of lust or desire. Inclining her head slightly, she stalked towards him, her body swaying. One might have said it was seductive in its lithe cat-like gait, but there was pure power in her stroll. "Welcome, warrior." Her voice wasn't what one might have expected from a Valkyrie. Its cadence was soft with a hint of laughter that never seemed to leave. There was no smile on her lips, now other sign of welcome beyond the curt greeting. This was once one of her favorite tasks, but no longer. Odd what a few hundred years of a broken, bitter heart could twist.
"Follow me," a hand rose and beckoned him forward. He'd follow or not and in the end, it was of no concern to her. As they moved down the verdant glen she spoke. "As you have likely surmised, you are in Valhalla." She motioned to the beautiful landscape that surrounded them. "Here, you will do battle with your fellow warriors and my sisters in order to prepare for Ragnarok." While in comparison to the warrior Inkari was tiny, her legs moved them at a brisk pace. Ahead of them the practice rings came into view. There was everything a warrior could need or want in those fields. "Ahead are the practice fields." As they came closer they could see men and Valkyrie already joining together on the grass and sands. Walking past she nodded as people called out to her. Some were older warriors who had known her from before and her sisters. In-kaa-ri, the syllables were drawn out in various voices. "Now that you are here, there is no... order to what you need to do. Your time is your own."
While Hjalmer wasn't the most gifted scholar or the most well-read. His eyes and brain did not deceive him as he looked upon the woman who greeted him into the afterlife. A Valkyrie. Maidens of Odin that ushered chosen champions into Valhalla. Her voice was as he dreamt of and expected, angelic and otherworldly. Even with the cold stare she had given him and the almost angered look, her voice betrayed the appearance of ice with one of sunny warmth. "Did any of my brothers make it here?" He questioned the Valkyrie as he quickly strode to catch up with her walk. The battle he fought many died in, some good men that he fought alongside with, but he feared they did not make it. Perhaps waking up in the cabin alone only fed this paranoia. After all he hadn't even seen another champion of Odin just yet. The woman, the Valkyrie, did not give response to his question anyway and he had silently dropped it as she guided him to the practice field as they grew closer to the large hall of champions.
As they drew closer. The sight of inhabitants put his worried heart to rest as many were rubbing the morning dew from their eyes and yawning. Weapons and shield in hand. Some were wide awake and ready for the battle, to practice and hone their craft even further. Only something that a true champion would be able to accomplish with the eternal afterlife they had now been blessed with. Others were sluggish and slow, their hearts only half in the mock battle. "Tell me, Valkyrie, why are some of the men sluggish and...so devoid of joy. This is Valhalla! What we all have been fighting for in our lives." As it was beginning to set in. The more energy Hjalmer was beginning to feel course through his veins, through his blood. Even as his brown eyes scanned over the many faces of champions but he didn't recognize a single one.
A sinking feeling of despair dropped into the pit of his stomach as he double checked and tripled. "Where are my brothers?" They had fought just as honorably as he had. So where were they? Did Odin not find them fit enough? Perhaps they never fell and Hjalmer was simply the first to fall. That had to have been the reason why.
"Haha! Look you toothless wits, fresh meat!" A large oaf of a champion called out, having finally recognized the arrival of Inkari and Hjalmer. Weapons lowered and heads raised, all looking to him with various emotions. Some dead, some excited. Even more with a look of what almost looked like pity to him. Why would that be? The large oaf, Stygar, stepped forward and clasped a paw onto his shoulder and shook him. Hjalmer wasn't a small man by any means but this bear of a man must have giants blood in him.
"It has been some time since we had someone new join our ranks! What has it been Eivor? Thirty winters now?" Stygar turned his head to the man he was sparring with who also approached. Eivor, must have been a great warrior for his time as Hjalmer noticed the gray in his beard. Not too often he ever heard of a graybeard going into the afterlife or having the fight left in them to make it.
"It has been fifty winters now."
"Fifty? That cannot be! Time flies quickly up here but... you are here now pup!" Stygar grabbed Hjalmer and pulled him into a headlock and squeezed slightly, bolstering a happy laugh as he welcomed him in his own unique way into the afterlife.
"My name is Hjalmer, I am no pup." Squeezing out of the bears grip, he separated himself from the laughing oaf who clapped his large hand onto the back of Hjalmer in good jest.
"Tell me, how can it be that it has been fifty winters since the last Champion? I've known many warriors in my own life time, many better than me and none are here?" Hjalmer asked, the reality slowly beginning to sink in. All while Stygar and Eivor shook their heads with a simple no in response as he came to grip onto this reality.
"The Allfather is a prickly one. Only true champions earn their place within these gilded halls. Don't worry though pup, you won't have to worry about them. You made it, that is all that matters is it not? We all lost friends and brothers we thought would be here." Stygar looked back to the crowd of Champions that had seemingly almost lost interest and began to train once more. Though some were just standing around talking, not even bothering with their weapons or practice.
"I suggest you get the lay of the land and find peace with this, pup. There is plenty of time to meet with the others. Inkari can show you around, I am sure she would be more than happy too." Stygar gave a final pat onto the back of the new champion who had fallen silent. Brown eyes turning to the face of Stygar who had lost his smile and in place, was one of pity. Why did he carry that same look the others had before when he arrived? Something wasn't right about this place. Or maybe. This was just the cold reality.
The question had been heard, but in truth, she hadn't known and if she had, Inkari wasn't sure how to answer that question. The simple answer was likely not because not many made it to Valhalla. She and her sisters picked those who they felt deserved a place in their halls, who would serve Odin come Ragnarok and while many men had died on that battlefield where she had found him, none had called to her like he had. Sometimes Inkari thought it was cruel to make them pick, though she knew that was just the remnants of her broken heart speaking. She had been the one to find Skarde and before him she had become friends with the men she had brought to Valhalla. Laughed and shared in both battle and drink with them. That laughter had faded the day she had been cast aside and since then she hadn't been able to bring herself to be who she had once been. Inkari mourned for who she had been, but knew there was no going back. Just like it was unlikely he'd find his brothers here...
So there had been no answer.
As they had neared the pits his next question gave her pause. Turning to face him, she watched him with icy eyes. "Time weighs on each differently... And Valhalla was not perhaps what they had dreamed it to be." True, Inkari said this with a jaded heart, but it was still accurate. Not all were fit for Valhalla or had been here so long that the call of battle, women and mead no longer appealed as it once had. Not all, but some were just not made to do so day in and day out, no matter how their hugr had sung to her and her sisters.
His question came again and for a moment, the ice in her gaze thawed and she looked at him with a softness. "I doubt they made it here.." He was the only one to have come back, this she knew, but to break it to him without kindness, Inkari didn't have it in her. She hadn't always been a frosty bitch and there were times, like now it poked through. She turned from him as she heard Stygar call out. She offered the man a soft smile, her arms crossing. He was often on of those who welcomed the "pups". She snorted softly and shook her head, the silky white braids swaying side to side with the motion. "It would be my pleasure." The sarcasm was barely veiled in her tone. It all just reminded her of the past.
She motioned to him with a hand, turning from the pits. "Come," her small form prowling away. Between the pits and the great hall, there was little. The world here seemed wild, open. There were other men milling about and behind a crop of trees some could be seen farming. "Life here will be what you make of it, Hjalmer." His name was a soft caress as she looked over her shoulder at him. "There is no schedule, no expectations of you other than to be ready when the Allfather needs you come Ragnarok." The pair trailed down a steep hill and before them stretched the long hall.
Her steps were unhurried as she led him to the door, above the thatched roof, smoke curled and the scent of cooking meat hung in the air. Inside, was.. beautiful. The dark wood was illuminated by handing brazers and the massive fire pits. Huge kegs of mead rested to one side and even now, the hall was bustling. Men ate, unhurriedly while talking with one another while others worked on cooking. Leaning against the wall she nodded to those within. "This is where most gather at night.. Some will take meals here through the day others prefer to cook for themselves."
The weight of their words was more than Hjalmer showed on the surface. Odin only allowed the most devout and worthy warriors into his halls. So much so that it had been over fifty years since the last warrior had been brought to these lands. A blow to the gut of those friends he met along the way. Did they truly wish for Valhalla like he had? Or were they not devout enough, not fit for the warrior afterlife. These questions of those he fought beside. Bled beside. Now weighed heavily in his mind as did the noticeable glum faces of other legendary warriors who had no drive or passion for the sport of bloodletting anymore. The time of Ragnarok was unknown, but they always had to be prepared. Some of these men had been here, fighting for centuries. It only made sense that some would begin to lose that passion.
Following the blonde locks of the angelic warrior. He turned his eyes one last time to the training grounds before diverting them and following with full intent to the hall. "And we won't know when Ragnarok comes, do we?" He asked her but he already knew the answer to that question. He should ask if he would ever meet Odin. Having only met him in visions before, hushed whispers of the night and dreams. Always like Odin was watching over his shoulder, guiding him to this very moment and perhaps he had been. The Allfather surely saw something in him if he was the first to grace these halls after so many winters.
The reveal of the hall was breathtaking. Even with the sour news lingering on one's mind. He could not deny the beauty and grandeur of the Great Hall of Valhalla. It truly was everything he imagined, and those before him imagined. The tales of these walls were told to young men in hopes of one day gracing them.
"I will have many meals here in the time to come, but now I'm not hungry for the taste of boar. He spoke of you showing me the land, is there more to this place? When I woke, it was vast like the seas we sailed across to raid." He always had a small dream of building his own home, out of the wood he carved and marked. With his own two hands but that was a young dream. One he had before his calling to fight and raid. His Father enjoyed building things with his own two hands. Maybe he should pick up a craft with his... relative free time he was bound to have now.
"The songs spoke of Valkyrie's also being great warriors. Is this true? I would have suspected that it would be you and your sisters that trained us to move past mortal bounds." Hjalmer stayed by her side. Not straying off like some excited pup.
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