Floki raised the axe, and I smiled one last time, whispered my final prayer, and closed my eyes. I wasn't afraid. I suppose it's good that I wasn't afraid, as the last thing my Lord would have wanted was for me to be afraid. I am fortunate in that my Lord is forgiving, he took me into his arms as I ascended to the gates of heaven, he smiled at me, and he welcomed me in, despite how I had betrayed him for so long.

I wonder, sometimes, if I was a good man. I have no doubt that I did my best to be one, but no good man leaves his son to a jealous "father" and wounded mother. No good man impregnates a woman with no thought, then abandons her. Could it be that the Lord was mistaken? Did he see a good man where there was no good man to see?

These questions are ridiculous, He couldn't have made a mistake, he is perfect in every way possible, surely if I were so bad, he would have cast me into hell, the place I would have gone had I died sooner.

I asked Him, as he was lifting me up to heaven, about Odin and Thor, Freyja and Freyr.

"But are they real?" I had asked, "What of their followers? Where will they go? Are they cast into the eternal flame like the Bible says, or did we make a mistake? Were we wrong?"

He hadn't answered, but had simply smiled knowingly.

In short, I do not know if Ragnar and I will meet again, but I have seen Gyda here. She smiles at me and plays in the fields, Thyri by her side. I suppose this is because of how young they both were, Thyri being younger than even me, and Gyda younger still. I knew my Lord could not turn them away. I still get confused though, when I hear others speak of this place, some, like Thyri, call it "Hel." Others say "Elysium." Or "Aaru". Others mention names, Hela, Hades, Pluto, Osirus, I do not recognize most of these names.

There are those who congratulate me though, on finding my way to heaven. They tell me that Jesus spared me, something I already knew.

I look back sometimes, on the Northmen. I remember my dear friend Ragnar, who had carried me up that mountain just to give me a proper burial. Who had told me he loved me and accepted me as born again, even when the rest of the village had turned against me.

I remember Lagertha, who was strong even when she had lost her unborn infant, who burned her daughters' body with dignity, and who had done her best to establish a settlement in a foreign territory even when the locals hated her.

I remember Aslaug, who cared about nothing more than her children, who comforted Ivar through the night, who appeared weaker than Lagertha but was in reality, just as powerful.

I remember Bjorn, who had hated me for years, but grown to love me, the brave son of Ragnar Lothbrok

And I remember Floki, who had disliked me from the beginning but hated me by the end, who had his loyal wife Helga, who was a trickster but also a darker force, who had swung his axe and killed me with one blow, and who I have forgiven.

So I have one request. If you see this, do not mourn me. I may have died yes, but I gained much knowledge, and I'm better now. My faith has been restored and I have never been happier. I lived so well and died so peacefully, I have no complaining to do.

And to my beautiful baby boy, Alfred. They will try to tell you I don't exist, and for a while, you will believe it. In fact, you may always believe it. That's okay. But when you begin to walk and feel a breeze over your shoulder, do not fret my boy, it's only me. When you are reading and see someone out of the corner of your eye, I'm just there watching over you. When you marry, you better believe that I will be there, next to you, smiling at my baby boy. You are barely out of the womb, yet I'm more proud of you than any father could ever be, and while you may grow up without seeing me, you won't grow up without me.

I have to go, even in heaven, I get tired. Goodnight.