At dawn, Lagertha walked through the holt, until she arrived at the fjord's edge, gazing off into the mountains. It is a sacred place. She bowed her head. As she closed her eyes, all else around her disappeared, save for the distant caw of ravens and the gentle murmurs of the trees.
Hail to Thee, Day, she said, as she began her prayer. She felt confused, not knowing what to do - where to turn, whom she should trust. She asked for strength, and for victory, of course, but also what she should do.
What is it you ask of me?