Chooser Of The Slain Chapter 1: Birthright, a rwby fanfic

…

It began with light.

It floated amidst an endless void of White, a new and pure existence. It slowly formed a consciousness; a heart, a mind, a soul, and, eventually… a body. Thoughts began to dance around in its imagination, like flickering flames given shape – these were memories given to it by one who stood Outside The Tree. Seeds that would grow into knowledge, if given enough care and attention.

It learned the essence of its existence. It understood that it was a creature of light, created for a purpose.

And slowly… painfully… it became aware of itself.

Its body solidified all at once, a painful separation of inside from outside by a barrier of flesh. It cried out, cold, lonesome, longing for the connection that had been severed. It longed for the White.

A hand appeared from Outside The Tree. Reaching. Grasping it. Pulling. With it came the final separation, the full knowledge that it was no longer able to remain in the heavenly womb. It… she… had to fulfill her purpose. She had to take her rightful place in the fabric of destiny.

A voice called out to her, murky, muddied, as a single word reached her innermost being. A word that echoed through her very soul. A word that gave meaning to her existence.

Valkyrie.

…
…

"She is stable, Lord Odin."

"Excellent. Have the Dwarves begin forging her weapon and armor at once; I would see our newest Valkyrie prepared for battle as soon as possible."

"She will need time to adjust to her new body, my lord… time to understand her duties, as well as to meet her sisters."

"I am well aware of the limitations of a newborn soul, Lady Frigg. I do not ask for the impossible."

"That is good to hear, I think. Though… I do not understand why this worked; Ymir prophesied that there could only ever be four Battle Maidens, did he not? What about-"

"Lady Frigg… unless my memory is failing me, which it is not… I do believe I forbade any discussion on that topic."

"M-M-My apologies, All-Father."

"Carry out your orders, Lady Frigg. I will consult with Ymir on this matter. And raise your head – the Valkyrie Queen cannot be seen as subservient to anyone, even me."

"Y-Yes, my lord."

…

For the first portion of her existence, the new Valkyrie simply had all necessary knowledge planted directly into her mind. All the names and faces, all details surrounding her duties and who she was, where she existed, and to whom she would one day swear loyalty – all were put in place quickly and carefully. Understanding this information, however, would occur much more slowly.

Fundamental knowledge was also the most important: she was the youngest of Lord Odin's four Valkyries, immortal warriors tasked with choosing the souls of fallen heroes to reside in Valhalla, in order to await Ragnarok, the coming war at the end of days. Valhalla, the hall of heroes, lay in the heavenly realm of Asgard, which was the highest of the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Asgard was the home of the Aesir, godly beings who ruled over the other realms and those who lived within them. There also lived the Vanir, beings similar to Aesir but considered less powerful – the one marked difference being that Aesir are born directly from the World Tree, while Vanir are created through the power of the Aesir.

It was a lot to take in, but it would all make sense in time.

She, along with her sisters, were all technically Vanir, born of Frigg the Warrior Goddess. Their duty would take them to Midgard, considered second only to Asgard itself in terms of importance.

But first she would be Named… and then she would be Tested.

…

Lady Frigg stood before her, fully armored yet holding no weapon. She was small of stature, and her pale hair flowed out from beneath her winged helm in a loose braid. Two tufts of hair stuck out from beneath the helmet on each side of her head, looking for all the world like the ears of a sheep. While her appearance may have been less than intimidating, no one dared consider the Valkyrie Queen anything worthy of mockery; her mighty armor sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow, heavy about the chest and arms yet lighter about the waist, ending in a divided skirt over her legs. A mighty pair of snow white wings upon her back completed the image, giving the woman a greater presence than any other on Asgard.

They stood in the center of a vast, grassy plain. All around them stood noble figures, powerful gods and goddesses, eager to witness her Naming. Faces she knew, yet did not know. Names that had yet to become familiar.

Mighty Thora grinned from ear to ear, holding aloft the great war-hammer Maghnild as though ready to summon her lightning at a moments notice. Next to her stood her bosom friend Heimdalla, the Guardian of the Bifrost, wearing her iconic mask in the form of a human skull. Stalwart Foresti stood beside them, with one artificial arm and leg each carved from the nigh-unbreakable bark of the Ironwood tree and animated by secret magicks. Noble Freyja, beautiful and sharp as a sword blade, looked on dispassionately through a pair of thin glasses.

And above all stood the All-Father himself; Lord Odin, silver hair gleaming in the sunlight, watching with his one eye. A wide leather eye-patch covered the hole where the other should have been. He wore no armor this day, but none present were foolish enough to think him defenseless. One does not lightly take up the crown of Asgard.

Lord Odin raised his cane, then stamped it down on the ground… and the new Valkyrie was engulfed in a powerful wind. Light and energy flew onto her from all directions, guided by the hand of the All-Father, as each piece took its place upon her naked body. Thus did she receive her divine protection.

Much like Lady Frigg, her armor sat heavy upon her chest and shoulders. A winged helmet adorned her head, and an equally reinforced pair of boots and gauntlets completed the set. Also like Lady Frigg, a pure white divided skirt adorned her legs. In her hands appeared a war scythe, twice as long as she was tall, ornamented with numerous runes and letters that served as the signature of the Dwarves who crafted it. Upon closer inspection, every part of her armor bore these same runes. Unlike the rainbow armor of Lady Frigg, however, the new Valkyrie's armor was the crimson red of an evening sky.

Yet there was more to it than simply a vivid color – a new strength flooded her limbs, power welling up in her chest, ready and willing to burst forth in the glory of combat. Her very soul was aflame.

"Hail, Rangrid," declared Lady Frigg, "Valkyrie of the Twilight!"

"HAIL!" answered the crowd of onlookers.

Another young woman appeared next to Rangrid, this one bearing armor similar to her own but a brilliant, sparkling white, almost like a field of fresh fallen snow, with accent pieces of a sapphire blue. Her hair shone an even brighter white than her armor, if such a thing were possible, yet her eyes were hard and cold as ice. In her hands rested a long, thin-bladed sword that glittered like diamonds.

"Hail, Gondul… Valkyrie of Midday!"

"HAIL!"

A third young woman appeared, this one seemingly adorned with darkness itself – her armor appeared blacker than black, as though it absorbed all light that touched it, sucking it into a void from which there could be no escape. Her hair shimmered like ebony, eyes flickering like amber torches, and in her hands rested a double-edged blade of black, shorter than Gondul's yet no less devastating.

"Hail, Hrist… Valkyrie of Midnight!"

"HAIL!"

At last came the fourth young woman, this one taller than all who came before her and bedecked in golden armor that almost seemed aflame in itself. Her mane of golden hair shone with equal brightness, and her lilac eyes danced above a permanent grin. She held no weapon, but Rangrid noted her unusually heavy gauntlets.

"Hail, Herja… Valkyrie of the Dawn!"

"HAIL!"

Lord Odin stepped forward and lifted his cane, this time pointing it skyward. Rangrid, along with her sisters, obeyed the silent command and lifted their own weapons towards the same point (Herja simply pointed one fist upward). No one spoke in the brief moment before the All-Father gave his blessing:

"I name you all… Battle Maidens," said Lord Odin. "Go forth, and choose well the souls of the fallen."

"Yes, Lord Odin,"the four Valkyries replied in unison.

Rangrid's armor seemed to hum with energy, for the words of the All-Father were powerful in and of themselves. Naming them as Battle Maidens was not merely for show; it was in that moment that he bestowed upon them all the power they yet needed.

Now, and not a moment sooner, were they truly ready for war.

She knew all of this would happen beforehand, as the knowledge had been placed there intentionally, yet only now did she understand what it meant. Such would be the case for all of the information in her head, it would seem. Would everything come so slowly? How vexing.

As Rangrid stood waiting for some form of instruction for what to do next, a few of the gathered Aesir came forward to exchange pleasantries with the newly named Battle Maidens.

"I do hope you are not as much trouble as your sisters, child," said Lady Heimdalla. Her deep blue robes and black hair reminded Rangrid of the night sky. Her mask hid her eyes, but all of Asgard knew that she was the Guardian of the entire realm for a good reason; nothing escaped her gaze.

"Don't you worry about a thing, kiddo! If you need any pointers, I'm your gal… especially if it involves breaking legs," said Lady Thora, wearing an impish grin. With her ginger hair and flamboyant pink and white outfit, the goddess of thunder certainly stood out among the Aesir. And not always for the reasons she intended.

As Lady Heimdalla pulled Thora away by the ear (which looked painful), Rangrid saw her sisters chatting with the other gods of Asgard before they dispersed. They all seemed more familiar with each other than with Rangrid, and she felt a pang in her chest as she looked upon them. It would be the first of many, many more; in time she would come to understand it as loneliness.

Did all the Vanir suffer these pains in their first years? This longing to return to the embrace of the World Tree?

Or was she simply weak…?

"Now I would see your strength, Battle Maidens," declared Lady Frigg after the audience had left. She lifted her hands and finally produced a weapon of her own – a mighty spear, long of shaft and wide of blade, which itself appeared capable of rending the very heavens in two. "Let the Testing begin. Herja… you are first."

"Yes!" Two armored fists slammed into each other as the golden Valkyrie took a fighting stance, teeth gleaming from a smile that never faded once.

Rangrid stood back with Hrist and Gondul, all of them watching eagerly as Lady Frigg began Herja's Testing.

And it didn't take long before Rangrid deduced the nature of her oldest sister's combat style: she was a brawler, using her body itself as a weapon in place of any separate instrument of war. Fists darted out in rapid succession, yet not as random as they first appeared. Her legs quickly and efficiently moved into new stances to deal with the changes in her opponent's countermeasures.

Lady Frigg, on the other hand, did almost nothing to counterattack for the first portion of the Testing, choosing instead to block each blow with the shaft of her spear. Rangrid saw what she was doing, and waited for the inevitable strike once the Valkyrie Queen was satisfied.

And when it came, Rangrid tried and failed to follow it; Lady Frigg's attack was completed in less than a heartbeat.

Herja was blown back several dozen feet, stunned by the attack but undamaged. A massive gash in the ground was the only visible indication Lady Frigg had done anything at all. That, and a strange ringing in the air.

"Well done, Herja," said the Valkyrie Queen. "With only a little more focus and a lot more time, you may well have broken my guard. Few among the Vanir can boast such an achievement, especially without a weapon."

Rather than respond, Herja looked over her undamaged armor with an expression of surprise. Rangrid was also curious; the information buried in her mind was not enough to explain that.

"Our armor is crafted from Vanirium, the metal of the gods." Lady Frigg tapped her spear against her chest-plate, producing a musical note that seemed to make the air itself sing. That explained the ringing, anyway. "Only the Dwarves know the secret of its construction, but for now know this; while you wear it, nothing can harm you."

Hrist said, "Even our own weapons? Can Vanirium withstand itself?"

"You have witnessed the answer this very moment, young Hrist," replied the Valkyrie Queen. "Were it not the case, my assault would surely have destroyed the body of Herja… and delayed the Testing."

Rangrid nodded. Denizens of Asgard were immortal in a few ways, but that did not make them invincible; were their bodies destroyed in battle, their spirits would return to the heart of Yggdrasil in order to recover. In a sense, their existence was tied to the World Tree itself. They would endure as long as the universe.

"Hrist, you are next," said Lady Frigg. Herja withdrew to join her sisters as the Valkyrie of Midnight lifted her blade and took her position.

Rangrid watched as the pair began their fight… and just as quickly lost track of their movements. Hrist's armor dulled her senses, causing her to lose track of the Valkyrie even though they were moving slower than during Herja's fight. Rangrid focused, straining her eyes until she could follow them, and even then it was difficult; Hrist attacked in wide, sweeping motions that were intended to bypass her opponent's defenses rather than break them. She was very difficult to follow.

Still, Lady Frigg seemed unaffected. After a short time, the Valkyrie Queen unleashed a similar attack to what hit Herja. Hrist lifted her sword to try and block the attack, but she was too slow and the blade was blown out of her hands, spiraling into the sky.

"Well done, Hrist," said Lady Frigg with a smile. "It has been long since any warrior has forced me to adapt my defenses so… frequently. You possess a strong sense for striking at your enemy's weak points, as well as avoiding any critical hits against your own person. You will do well, I think."

Hrist sighed, then summoned her fallen blade back to her hands. "Thank you, Lady Frigg. Though I was hoping I could at least parry that attack of yours… it would seem I need more training."

"Knowing your limitations is the first step to overcoming them, young one. That is the very purpose of the Testing. Now then… Gondul, step forward."

Rangrid watched as the Valkyrie in white took her place on the field of battle. Hrist joined her sisters after a moment, as she and Herja exchanged a few quiet words, none of them harsh. Rangrid eyed them briefly before turning her attention back to the Testing.

For the first few moments, neither combatant moved. Gondul held her blade directly in front of her, watching Lady Frigg with her ice cold gaze. Looking for an opportunity. Waiting.

Rangrid could almost hear her own heartbeat in the silence. How long would they-

Gondul struck without warning, thrusting her blade directly forward in a lightning-fast attack. Rangrid was startled as she realized what her sister was doing; she had aimed directly at Lady Frigg's unprotected face! Even though the Valkyrie Queen dodged out of the way, Gondul's blade still left a thin red line across her cheek. Herja and Hrist gave startled cries from next to her as Rangrid began to grow nervous.

In fact, everything went still after that attack. Even the air itself seemed to be waiting.

Lady Frigg did not counter with her spear like with Hrist and Herja. Instead she slowly reached up and ran a finger along the cut, gazing calmly at the sight of her own blood.

"Impressive," she said. Her voice carried an unusual and unsettling rumble just beneath the surface. "Only Hod has done such a thing to me, and only after we danced for an entire fortnight. Now that was a glorious fight…"

Rangrid shuddered at the woman's tone of voice. Hod was the only member of the Aesir who was blind. Both of his eyes had been ripped out of his head.

And everyone on Asgard knew how it had happened.

"Your ability to pierce through your opponent's defense is remarkable, Gondul," Lady Frigg's voice gradually lost its icy edge, but none present would forget it. "However… I would suggest you work on keeping your wits about you. This is simply a Testing, and not a true battle. Be mindful in the future."

"Y-Y-Yes, Lady Frigg." Gondul bowed timidly, her nerve shattered.

Lady Frigg pressed a hand to her face, called forth a small light, and pulled her hand away to reveal a fully healed countenance. Small wounds like that were easy to repair, even for the weakest of the Aesir, yet the damage to her dignity may well never be healed… and they all knew it. Her smile had not returned.

"And last, we have Rangrid. Step forward, child."

A small whine escaped her lips as Rangrid took her position before the Valkyrie Queen herself. Her war scythe seemed unwieldy in her grip, and it almost felt like her armor was twice as heavy as a moment ago. She couldn't stop her hands from trembling as she faced her opponent. Where did all that fire go from before? All that courage?

Herja could do nothing against Lady Frigg's unstoppable power. Hrist could not hope to break her guard. Gondul had stirred the beast within, against all manner of sense.

What chance did Rangrid have?

"If you are already fearful," rumbled the Valkyrie Queen, frowning deeply, "…then you are lost."

In the blink of an eye, Lady Frigg attacked. Her spear flew forward, parried Rangrid's weapon like it wasn't even there, and plunged full into the young Valkyrie's face.

She didn't even have time to feel
any pain before the White
overtook her
senses

… …
…

"-you are already fearful," said the Valkyrie Queen, frowning deeply, "…then you are lost."

What…?

In the blink of an eye, Lady Frigg attacked – yet Rangrid's weapon knocked the blow aside this time, barely nudging it off course enough to avoid being impaled by it. In her surprise she cried out, falling to one side and rolling as she lost her feet.

A sweeping attack was the last thing she registered as the Valkyrie Queen's weapon flew around, slicing clean through Rangrid's neck. She felt a brief sense of vertigo as she watched the world, along with her body, fall away beneath her.

Once again, the White
quickly came in,
flooding her
senses

… …
…

"-you are already fearful," said the Valkyrie Queen, frowning deeply, "…then you are lost."

Anticipating the timing, Rangrid managed to successfully parry the attack this time, knocking the divine spear off course far enough to avoid the heaviest part of the blow. Like before, Lady Frigg swung to the side next but she blocked that too, the weapon only knocking her backwards this time. She gritted her teeth as she landed on her back, ready for another killing blow…

But it never came. She looked up to find Lady Frigg staring at her. Neither combatant moved for a few moments.

After a pause that seemed to last years, the Valkyrie Queen straightened herself and cleared her throat, "Child… you have a very long way to go. Were you any ordinary Vanir, I would consider you hopeless."

Rangrid stood to her feet, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"However… Lord Odin has Named you a Battle Maiden. Nothing I can say will change that. Be grateful that combat is not your foremost priority."

Biting back a sob, the youngest Valkyrie nodded. Hrist, Herja and Gondul were soon at her side, all worrying over her. Rangrid barely noticed them as she looked at Lady Frigg, stinging at the loss but grateful to be whole. Thoughts of her repeated deaths lingered in her mind… and something about them bothered her.

Did they even happen…?

Lady Frigg sent her spear away as she dismissed them. "That is all for today, my Valkyries. There is still more you need to know, but for now take some time, rest… and get to know one another." Her gaze lingered on Rangrid a moment longer before she turned and flew away.

"…"

Rangrid wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes as her mind whirled with thoughts, only a few of them optimistic. She worried about her complete lack of combat prowess. She wondered if her sisters would think her a burden. But more than anything else… she had a burning desire to know exactly what had happened back there.

All of the information locked away in her mind suggested that what she'd done was impossible. Rangrid knew, for a fact, that if an immortal was 'killed' in battle, they would awaken in the heart of the World Tree a moment later, wait for their body to be rebuilt (a process that depended entirely on how much damage it had taken), then emerge once again without a mark to show for it. Some wounds, such as the eyes of Hod or the arm and leg of Foresti, were destined to never heal, regardless of how long they spent in the heart of Yggdrasil. But no matter how large or small the wounds, all were meant to linger for a time.

Rangrid had skipped that part. Not only that, she'd been sent back to a moment before her body had been destroyed. How… was such a thing possible? It could have been merely a vision, but that didn't account for her remembering exactly how each death felt. She made up her mind to ask the All-Father about it sometime soon-

"Who's up for a game?"

Herja's blunt question broke into Rangrid's thoughts like an unruly crow amidst a flock of songbirds. "A… game?" said Rangrid.

"I thought we were supposed to rest, Yang?" said Hrist.

"'Yang'…? I thought your name was-"

"My ~proper~ name is Herja," said the golden Valkyrie, "…but between the four of us, I prefer Yang. It's one of the mortal words for 'golden,' and I happen to like it."

Gondul rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing loudly. "Rangrid, before you came along Lady Frigg suggested we create personal names for ourselves. It was meant to help us bond… or something. These two won't use the name I suggested for myself, though."

"Because 'Eidlweiss' sounds even more flowery than Gondul," Yang pointed out. "Just Weiss is easier to remember."

"Maybe for a dunce. One of these days I'll be sure to ask why the All-Father held back so much of your intelligence…"

"Pbtbtbtbtbt…" Yang eloquently replied.

Hrist put a comforting hand on Rangrid's shoulder, "Don't worry about those two, they've been like this since Weiss was created, but they're as close as any sisters can be. And, uh… you can call me Blaik."

Rangrid nodded, unable to really say much of anything in a situation like this. Still, it felt… right. "It's nice to meet you all," she bowed politely.

"Hmm…" Yang crossed her arms for a moment. "Your hair looked black at first, but now I see it's really a deep red… light gray eyes, almost like silver… Yup, we'll call you Ruby."

Rangrid balked. Well… that was fast.

"Hey! Give her a chance to pick her own name!" Weiss cried.

"What? It totally fits and you know it! I mean, look at her… how can you see that armor and not think of rubies?" Yang rebuffed.

"You could at least go with something nicer, like Rubia…"

That name did sound better, and Rangrid started to voice her opinion-

"Yeah, nicer… kinda like how 'Idle-Wise' is supposed to be nicer, right?"

"Eidlweiss! And we're talking about Rubia right now!"

"I still think 'Ruby' is better."

"It's almost exactly the same! What is your problem?!"

"If it's the same, why are you trying to change it?"

"Because between the two of us, I'm the only one with a brain! Because you're the kind of dolt who would try to name a cat, 'Cat!'"

Blaik cut in here, one eyebrow raised high, "Is that why you tried to call me 'Shadowcat' at first…?"

Yang held both hands flat, gesturing between them, "This is this, and that is that."

"That's… I don't… what are you… I can't even… … … WHAT?" Weiss flailed for a moment.

Rangrid… or Rubia, which actually sounded better in her head… giggled at their antics. Soon those giggles turned into full-blown laughter, the kind that spreads to anyone nearby whether they like it or not – and before long, all four Battle Maidens were falling over themselves with laughter, tears in their eyes.

Yet beneath this new sense of warmth and belonging, a cold sliver of fear was still embedded in Rubia's soul. Fear that she would be rejected. Fear that she would fail, and that this new family she'd gained would abandon her. She barely knew them, though they seemed intimately close to one another even now. They were already a family; she was the stranger, the newcomer.

How long could she last? How long… before it all fell apart?

As the laughter faded and the quiet of the realm descended once again, Rubia let a few extra tears flow; they blended together with the old ones. Her sisters were none the wiser.

…
…

"I happen to think Eidlweiss is a lovely name…"

"THANK you! At least somebody appreciates my taste."

"Eh… you don't taste that great."

"Wait, hold it, what do you mean by that?!"

"Blaaaaik! You said you wouldn't tell…!"

"Weiss, what is she talking about?! EXPLAIN!"

…

It wasn't long after their moment of bonding that Lady Frigg summoned Rubia for a more personal matter. Weiss, Blaik and Yang had already undergone this particular ceremony, and now it was time for the newest Battle Maiden to take her first steps on the long road ahead.

"I… … … I wish to apologize for the other day, child. I was out of line during your testing, I think."

Rubia blinked as the Valkyrie Queen lowered her gaze. "No, the fault was mine," she insisted. "I should not have been afraid. It was merely a Testing, yet I lost my nerve entirely."

Lady Frigg looked up, her eyes unwilling to meet Rubia's. "While that may be true, that does not excuse my attitude. When I sensed your fear after Gondul succeeded in scratching me, I took offense to it. I wanted to destroy your body, as an example to your sisters; I wanted to show them directly what happens when we return to the Tree."

Rubia remained silent.

A faint smile returned to the Valkyrie Queen's face. "Yet I could not. Somehow, beyond the scope of my understanding… you anticipated my attack. You may lack the instincts of your sisters, but you appear to have a tremendous amount of luck. I suspect you have hidden talents that may prove useful in other matters."

Rubia lowered her own gaze, her face growing hot. This would have been a good time to bring up the… event… but she had no idea how to go about doing so. Best to leave it for later.

All around them lay the vast, empty expanse of the blue skies of Midgard. Clouds drifted beneath their feet, lazily making their way from one coast to the other as they had done for centuries. No sound but the howling of the winds met their ears. No birds interrupted their solitude.

"Now then," said Lady Frigg. "It is time to choose your first Einherjar."

Rubia nodded, then closed her eyes and focused her energies. She and her sisters had been trained on how to do this during their creation, but this was her first opportunity to use it.

Lady Frigg spoke with a quiet, steady voice, "Our armor is attuned to our individual essences… which is why they all appear so different to one another. Expand your senses… seek out a soul that resonates with your own…"

Faint voices echoed in Rubia's head, seemingly from all directions at once. Men, women, children, all mingled together in a confused chorus of nonsense. Her brow furrowed as she focused on the loudest among them.

…don't understand, why should…

…dirty, rotten liar! I'm gonna…

…someone help! Help me, he's…

…all the things that could get to me, it had to be…

One voice drowned out the others, a dry, gravelly voice of a man at the end of his days. She locked onto it by means she could not explain. Without waiting, Rubia followed where her armor led, seeking the source. Flying north, into the vast mountains that split the land. Lady Frigg followed behind her, watching.

Rubia's crimson armor seemed to hum the closer she got to her quarry. It only stopped when she found him, though it was difficult to tell at first.

Before her lay a field of bodies, only some of them intact. Most had the look of bandits, ruffians, while others wore the armor of hired mercenaries. All were dead. In the distance, Rubia could see a line of shelters and tents. Even though this was her first time seeing one, she easily recognized it as a battlefield.

"Some things never change," Lady Frigg remarked while staring at the carnage.

Rubia landed, slowly looking about the area until she saw movement; one man stirred at the far end, closest to the shelters. He was not dressed like the others, and appeared to be alone on his side of the area. No details of face or build could be seen beneath his wounds, aside from a single streak of gray in his long black hair. Several broken weapons lay around him, while a pair of twin maces remained clutched in his hands. By all appearances, this man had fought off an entire army by himself. Impressive.

I must be dying, said the man's voice in her head. A Battle Maiden has come. But surely not for me…

"Ah, an excellent choice," Lady Frigg said quietly. "Now… do as I showed you."

Rubia nodded, then stretched out her energies again, this time reaching towards the dying man before her. She quickly felt his soul; it was rough, like a stone from a quarry, yet warm to the touch. Rubia called to it.

A light shone forth as his spirit emerged from his body, floating forward and shrinking, compressing, before reaching her hand in the form of a small crystal. It glowed with a pale, dusty gray light.

As she held it, thoughts and memories that were not her own flooded Rubia's mind; images of a woman with curly blonde hair, the man's wife, as they lived peacefully outside the city… scenes of his training with Mistral's military force… hunting wild boar as a young boy… the face of his mother…

Rubia blinked; the man's entire life was open to her. Everything he ever was and ever had been… now belonged to her.

Was this… a soul?

His voice came once again directly into her head; Odd… you're not what I expected of a goddess.

I am Rubia, she answered with her own thoughts. Valkyrie of the Twilight.

I see. I'm Rhodes. No offense, but you don't seem the soldier type.

None taken, but it matters not. I have chosen you as my first Einherjar, Sir Rhodes.

None of that 'sir' nonsense. I'm your first, eh…? That explains a lot. But I was taught the youngest Valkyrie was named Rangrid.

That is my proper name, yes. I'm surprised you know so much about me.

Been going to Temple since I was a lad. Everyone knows about the Battle Maidens, comin to take the best of us to Valhalla after we bite it. Still, I'm glad I ended up with you and not the firstborn.

Herja is not that bad, once you get used to her.

… … …No, I wasn't taking about-

"Congratulations Rangrid, Valkyrie of the Twilight," said Lady Frigg. She nodded her head respectfully, "…You have chosen your first Einherjar. He shall make a fine addition to the ranks of Valhalla, I think."

She quickly called forth a transportation circle, summoning them both back-

…
…

-to Asgard. Rubia blinked at the sudden shift.

"As you have witnessed, the soul of a mortal gives off a light when called into your possession. This light indicates whether or not the soul is worthy of a place in the Hall. A pure, clean light is ideal… but a soul marked by the shadows can never be welcomed." Lady Frigg's face turned dark at her final words.

"Shadows…?"

"You will see soon enough. Noble souls are few and far between on Midgard, but they still require guidance. I alone oversaw this task until now, but humanity has grown too vast for me to monitor on my own. Once you are ready, you and your sisters will guide the souls of Midgard while I keep my eyes on the other realms – Midgard now has as many souls as all the other worlds put together. It is a daunting task, but I believe in you all."

Rubia looked down at the crystal in her hand, so small yet… important. "I understand, Lady Frigg."

"I will summon the four of you again, and soon. There is a task the All-Father wishes you to perform before your duties begin in earnest." Lady Frigg nodded to the young Valkyrie, then flew away on the winds.

Rubia was left on her own once again, but her mind was on things other than respite.

Her questions about the occurrence at the Testing remained unanswered. Her concerns about her own worthiness as a Battle Maiden lay just beneath the surface, ready to emerge at a moment's notice and drown her in remorse. Lady Frigg was right; she was not skilled, only lucky.

Desperation could only carry her so far. She needed answers, and soon.

If it's all the same to you, said Rhodes directly into her head again, …I'd rather not sit around in some giant room and grow moss while waiting for the end of the world.

Rubia smiled at the man's informal tone, then called to his soul from the crystal. It flared for a moment before the man himself emerged, fully formed and whole, to stand before her. He looked around for a moment, dazed, then patted his chest and arms to ensure he was real.

"Okay, that felt strange." He spoke with the same voice as before, only it sounded more grating now that it was solid. "But it is good to have a body again. Thanks."

"You wish to remain with me?" said Rubia.

Rhodes looked around the area, scratching his chin. His armor covered only portions of his clothes, but it covered all the important parts, and Rubia could see how well-made it was now that he was in one piece. His twin maces dangled from his hips, ready and waiting to be drawn into battle once again. Every line on his face spoke of years on the road, of experience beyond anything Rubia herself might have had.

"Personally I prefer wandering by myself," he said with a half-smile. "But since that's not an option anymore… y'know, since I'm dead… then yeah. I wish to remain with you, Lady Valkyrie."

"Just… Rubia is fine."

"Nothing formal, then. Sounds good to me. And don't worry about keeping me in that crystal thing… it's not that bad, but I would like to come out and work my legs every now and again. Kinda cramped in there."

"I shall bear that in mind," said Rubia with a chuckle.

They made their way towards Valhalla on foot, Rhodes enjoying the freedom of movement and Rubia enjoying the company of a mortal for the first time. She was certain her sisters would like him. She also wondered what manner of warriors they had chosen for themselves.

…

… … … … …

…

Glenroy Stallion, simply called Roy, always enjoyed listening to crickets. They had a natural music that appealed to him more than any city-trained bard ever could. And they were always in tune, unlike some people he could name.

He listened to their concert as he worked, brushing the mane of Spook in slow, easy motions. She was the only mare to ever come back to the ranch a full three times, mostly on account of nobody ever getting her to behave; she only ever seemed to listen to Roy, and that was fine by him. Dad would disagree, but what else was new?

Roy loved horses. A heck of a lot more than he loved people, anyway.

At least horses could be trained; with enough patience and care, and with a lot of mutual trust between them, a rider and his horse could perform wondrous feats together. They were gentle animals if you treated them right, and gave no thought to how they could profit from your losses. They didn't argue over the slightest mistakes, didn't try to swindle you out of your hard-earned wages, and didn't deny you a meal if you missed cleaning one single stall after two days of hard riding.

Yes, Roy Stallion loved horses… though some people were okay.

Roy's mind returned to his visit with Bron a few nights ago. Now there was a guy you could get along with; Bron was one of Roy's oldest friends, and the only one who didn't walk away when Roy began working full-time at his family's ranch. He always said the smell never bothered him. And Roy believed him.

Bron was a man who loved being the center of attention, which was nice in that he allowed Roy to blend into the sidelines without fear. He was loud where Roy was quiet. And he loved a good fight, which is why he moved to Vale as soon as he was old enough to enlist. It was the perfect life for him.

But not for Roy. Let the rest of humanity fight their pointless wars… he'll stay on the sidelines, thank you very much.

"Are you the owner of these stables?"

A voice called from the door, and Roy turned to find a shrouded figure holding a small lantern. Judging by the shape under the cloak, it was a woman. And he didn't see anyone with her, which was more than a little unusual. He blinked as he realized he was staring… because her yellow eyes seemed to be glowing.

"Um… I'm n-not the owner, but my Dad is."

"I have need of somewhere to rest for the night," the woman spoke with a serious tone of voice, one that allowed no argument. "You will see to it, yes? I have money, if that is what you require."

"I, uh…" Whoever this woman was, she wasn't acting anything like the unruly customers Roy was used to. He never stumbled over his words like this. "I'll see if he… if we can… I mean, I'll be right back."

He was in and out of the house in far less time than he hoped. Enough time to gather a few blankets and inform Dad they would have a woman traveler staying the night… but not nearly enough time to gather his wits.

There was something… really unnerving about her gaze.

But also… intriguing.

By the time Roy returned to the stables, he found the woman standing with her back to the doorway. She and Spook were eyeing each other, but the mare didn't seem agitated. If anything, she seemed relaxed.

Roy breathed a sigh of relief. If Spook liked her, this woman must be alright.

After a brief exchange, the traveler let her cloak fall to the floor. What stood before the eyes of Roy Stallion was a beautiful woman dressed like a serving girl in the King's private chambers, every curve accentuated to a high degree and every piece of scarlet silk designed to draw the eye to forbidden places. Her black hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and those amber eyes still seemed to have an inner glow.

There was, however, more to see beyond the glimmer – parts of her body bore large, ragged scars, the outfit was worn and frayed in several places, and many of the curves beneath them rippled with hidden muscle. This was a woman who could take care of herself. He shuddered to think of how many men had learned that the hard way.

Her eyes flickered as she gave him a serpentine smile, "It has been dreadfully cold these last few nights."

Roy nodded, his mouth suddenly very dry. His head spun for a moment.

She sauntered up to him, looking beautiful, gorgeous, and far less threatening than a moment ago, as she pressed herself against Roy's body. He couldn't help but notice how… soft she was. That and her scent; sandalwood was not a cheap fragrance. He couldn't stop staring.

"What does a girl have to do…" she traced a finger along the front of Roy's shirt, "…to get a nice, handsome young man like you to… keep me company tonight?"

This had to be a dream. There was no way a woman like this could seriously be offering herself to Roy Stallion, son of a ranch owner. A nobody from nowhere. This woman was someone who could wrap barons and lords around her little finger, make princes weep and kings tear their robes… what chance did a ranch hand have with her?

But she was so small… so fragile… he couldn't call himself a man if he simply walked away when she was literally offering herself to him.

"You're doing a pretty good job so far," he said with a grin.

Her smile turned almost feral as she took the hint, leaning in and taking his head in both hands as she kissed him deeply, wrapping one leg around his hips. Roy only hesitated a moment longer, also wrapping his own hands around her as the pair fell backwards into the hay, losing themselves in the passion of the night.

Roy never noticed the glowing rune on Spook's head, just behind her ear. Even if he had, he would never have recognized it for what it was… the sigil of Helheim, written in lines of flame.

It vanished long before the sun came up.

…

… … … … …

…

"Gondul- …I mean, Weiss?"

"What is it, Rubia?"

"Heh… I do like that name. Anyway, I was wondering something…"

"Speak your mind, sister."

"Lord Odin created the four of us to… 'select' the souls of the fallen, correct?"

"I will assume there is a point to your questioning, so I urge you to get to it quickly. Yang will not wait long."

"Indeed. Well… if our duty is simply to choose who is worthy and who is not… and if no part of our duties include interfering in mortal affairs… and if we are truly immortal… then why are we so heavily armored?"

"That… is because of the coming battle of Ragnarok. I need not remind you what that is, do I?"

"No, sister… it is just… why not prepare us when the battle is near? Why now? What manner of threat would force us to take such measures so early?"

"…"

"What are they not telling us?"

"I think… … … that this is neither the time nor the place to linger on such things, dear sister. Simply trust in the All-Father; he has never led us astray."

…

Author's Note: Welcome to Asgard!

This AU is loosely inspired by the old Norse Mythology stories of Odin, Thor and Loki, but I took heavy inspiration from the Valkyrie Profile series of games for many of the setting and character details. All of the gods and goddesses are Remnant carry-overs, and hopefully you could figure out who's who from the descriptions I gave. Other name changes are simply due to the original names not quite fitting with the theme; can you really tell me there could be a guy named Bronz in a world like this?

[Temporary Note - I know a few of you have read my original version of Paradigm of the Rose here, and you might recognize Rubia's name but not how I'm portraying her. This is intentional. I'm currently in the process of renovating the overall story, and I'll be putting the rebooted version up both here and on AO3 once it's ready. Hope you stick around!]

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