Young Aaric Alvidson has always been an adventurous boy. He preferred running around playing war with the other boys in his village or go exploring the woods nearby rather than sit and follow his father's instructions to read and write. It wasn't because he didn't want to, he just found it hard to focus on something so boring.

For example, right now his father was in a deep discussion with one of the newcomers. Aaric didn't care to understand what they were talking about and the longer he sat listening to them drone on and on, the more bored he got until he couldn't sit properly in his chair without fidgeting every few seconds.

He felt an itch to move- explore, do literally anything than stay here.

It was easy to slip away from the table and out of the house. No one paid him much mind, not after they had a few drinks in them. The village was empty save for the usual patrolmen going about their nightly routine. He hid from them in the shadows and when he reached the western gate it was nothing for him to wiggle under the wall by a groove in the ground.

Aaric relaxed when he reached the docks without getting spotted. The boy strolled to the end, humming a random tune and didn't hesitate to jump down onto the icy river. He thought it was kind of fun that he could walk on water, sort of, though, his father didn't share his enthusiasm. He guessed it was because they needed the fish swimming beneath the ice. Sometimes, if he looked hard and long enough, Aaric could see something moving down there.

He giggled as he slid across the ice. A soft gasp left his lips when he slipped, landing hard on his side. He sat up with a groan and moved his aching arm. It didn't feel broken, from what he could tell.

The pain was quickly forgotten. A faint orange glow appeared from below the ice, catching the boy's attention. Aaric hovered his face above the ice, trying to get a better look at the mystery thing. He wondered if it could be a fish made out of gold and maybe if he caught, he'll make the whole village rich again!

The strange light glowed brighter and to his surprise, it diverged into two.

Two gold fish! And they were swimming up, closer and closer to the surface but the light was getting... smaller?

His confusion swelled when he felt the ice underneath the palm of his hands grow warm.

The surface of the frozen river cracked, making him jump, and then it began to bubble, like water being cooked.

The two glowing lights were not golden fishes.

They were a pair of frightening orange eyes that paralyzed Aaric with horror.

A sunken in nose followed by gnarly rotting teeth till the entirety of the draugr's head emerged from the melted surface.

The monster opened its jaw impossibly wide and screamed.

The doors to the barn creaked open loudly.

"It's fine. It's just me," Edith said as she slipped through the doors, careful to not drop the cup of mead and plate of food in her hands. "I brought you food." She sat across from Leif and placed the meal down in front of him.

Leif went straight for the mead, downing it in one go. "Ah. Thank you, Edith. It's been awhile since I've had my last drink."

She watched him eat, shoving the food into his mouth. He was acting like he has been starving. Have they not been feeding him enough?

"You shouldn't have to eat out here like an animal." She couldn't hide the anger in her voice and she didn't want to.

Leif shrugged, "I am a thrall now, which makes me lesser than an animal."

"That's not right. It's barbaric."

"And the people back in Wessex, do they not practice slavery, too?"

"It is not the same," she said, ignoring the incredulous look on his face. "Slaves are bondservants and they receive payment for their duty. God says to treat them fairly, as well."

"Sounds like a load of shit."

Edith scoffed and shook her head. "You do not understand. That is why your people treat you with such cruelty. They know no better."

"Is that why you've come here, then?" Leif set down the empty plate and sat back against a stack of hay. "To teach us? To save us from our 'barbaric' ways?"

"Is it not barbaric to slaughter an entire village?" she practically yelled. Anger roiled inside her gut and she knows her face must be red but she didn't care. "To murder innocent people? To throw babes on the road and rip people to pieces!" She gasped as memories of that night flashed through her mind. She forced them away but the damage was already done.

In times like these, Edith focuses on something trivial, like how her hands can't stop shaking. She clenches them hard into fists until she could feel the sting of her nails digging into the palm of her hands.

The barn is thankfully silent and it gives her a moment to control her breathing; to calm her mind.

"How did you survive?" Leif asks softly.

"I was lucky."

"God was with me. He protected me." She inhaled deeply and wiped the sweat from her face. "They came at night. I though they were animals at first. They howled and growled like one and they were covered in fur but underneath... they were but men. My parents got us to the church. We thought we were safe. They weren't coming in." She paused, remembering the feeling of being squished between all those bodies. "We didn't know that we were actually trapped."

"They lit the church on fire. My father, he broke a window and threw me outside." She pushed up her sleeve to reveal a long jagged scar. "I remember him telling me to run and I did. I didn't know where I was going. I just ran. Until I saw him... and he saw me."

"He looked like a bear. He charged at me like one." A sudden calmness settled over her. "I didn't run. Maybe, I was too afraid to move but I didn't feel scared. I don't know why but he stopped and we stared at each other and then he was gone. I hid in the pig's pen till morning, covered myself up with shit so they wouldn't see me. I only came out when the soldiers arrived. I was taken in by the nunnery after that. They changed my name to Edith, after the saint. They told me I was alive because God made it so."

Leif hummed thoughtfully and said, "I don't know about your god but there might be another reason you survived that night."

Edith narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"The men you described that attacked your town, they sound like Berserkir; Beserkers, warrior-shamans."

"What are they?"

"They are animals."

Edith frowned at him, wondering if he were playing another joke on her. "That is not possible."

"Yet it is. They can be as strong as a bear or as fast as a wolf and you are lucky you covered yourself in pig shit or else they would have sniffed you out."

Edith frowned because that, that somehow made sense. "If they are animals, why didn't the man attack me?"

"Because you stood your ground." Leif laughed and she found it strange that he could find any humor in this. "I have a lot more respect for you. You are a tough one, you know that? It is a shame you have devoted yourself to your god. You would have made a fine follower of Prudr. She values strength and courage."

"Wait, Leif, hold on. You are not making any sense."

Leif sighed, over dramatically in her opinion.

"The warrior belonged to the bear-shirts. He made a bluff charge at you like any bear." He smirked, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "And you called his bluff. A little girl. I would've loved to have seen that."

Edith went quiet, digesting the new information given to her. So it wasn't just any normal Dane. The warriors who attacked her village belonged to an animalistic pagan group. That narrowed the search down, some, but she still needed more to go on.

"Where would one find these 'beserkers'?"

Leif gave her a strange look, "No one can say for certain. They tend to roam around in a pack and like a pack they do not stay in one place for too long... Edith, are you trying to find them?"

"Yes," she answered with no hesitation. Her blunt honesty rendered Leif speechless.

"Why?" he finally asked.

"It is my purpose."

"To die?" Leif sat up, the worry in his eyes making Edith uncomfortable. "Don't you know what they will do to someone like you? Why in Thor's hammer would you ever-"

"God had a purpose for taking my parents away." She gripped her cross necklace tightly. "He wanted to show me how far the faithless have fallen so I can help them. 'Forgive them, for they know not what they do'. They are not my enemies. They have just been in the darkness for too long."

Leif's face softened. "Is that what you truly believe?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Otherwise, what would have been the point of it all?"

He didn't answer and Edith didn't know if she wanted him to.

A commotion outside drew both their attention away. It sounded like people yelling.

"What could it be?" she muttered to herself.

'Edith, be careful," Leif said when she got to her feet and headed to the door. She poked her head outside and was met instantly by the sounds of screaming and people scrambling in all directions. Someone, a guard it appeared, ran past with a torch shouting at the top of his lungs:

"Draugrs! Draugrs!"

Her heart skipped a beat. She has only seen them one time but once was enough. She ducked back inside before anyone could see her.

"Draugrs are attacking the village," she reported, her voice shaking.

Leif cursed in an unknown language. "Edith, listen to me. You have to go back to the jarl's house."

"But you are still chained!" She rushed to his side and grappled at the chains. "I will not leave you to die."

He snatched her wrists, causing her to wince. "You don't have a choice! The jarl's house is the only safe place for you now. Now go. Go!" He pushed her away but she was reluctant to leave. She could not abandon him.

"It will be alright," he said, as if sensing her internal conflict. "I will be fine. Go."

Edith's chest tightened.

She took a step back.

"I will be back for you."

Leif didn't say anything. He only nodded.

It took every ounce of herself to leave that barn.

She hoped it wouldn't be her biggest mistake.

"Forty men?"

"Aye, and all seasoned warriors. Your draugr problem won't be an issue any longer."

Alvid sat back in his chair and asked with a wave of his hand, "All this in exchange for housing?"

Olaf smiled tightly, "We don't yet have the resources to get us through this winter. It is all I ask, and any work you may need done know you have our hand."

"How long do you plan on staying?"

"After the winter or sooner."

The jarl eyed Olaf, studying him most likely. He must be thinking if he can trust him or not. Olaf isn't worried; he has spoken only the truth, albeit there are a few information he has withheld from the jarl. It was none that he felt Alvid needed to know about. For now.

Alvid sipped from his drink and when he set it down, all trace of hospitality was gone from his face.

"What are you really doing here, Olaf Tryggvason; Lord of War, The Briton's Foe, one who bleeds the sea red."

Olaf stilled. "You know me."

"I know of you. Stories mostly, of your conquests. You commandeered an army of thousands and defeated all who dared challenge you. You are the man whom lesser men feared and whom the gods favored..." Alvid gave a sideways glance to the missionaries sitting quietly together, "... or whom they used to favor."

"Whatever you have heard, that part of my life is over. I am no longer that man."

"Because you follow their god now?" Alvid's eyes hardened. "I don't believe that."

Olaf's face remained perfectly blank as he silently forced himself to relax his fingers wrapped around the cup. He was sure if he did not, he would break it.

"It does not matter what you believe," he replied calmly.

"It does when the Olaf Tryggvason comes into my home, eats my food and drinks my mead." Alvid waved his hand. "Come next morning an army is waiting outside my door, ready to kill all that I love."

"That won't happen."

Alvid's lips thinned into a straight line. "When a Lord of War arrives, there will be war."

"Why not kill me now?" Olaf asked and lounged back in his chair, suddenly tired of this conversation. If there was going to be a fight, he'd rather get it over with.

Alas, it seems the jarl had other plans for him.

"The last thing I want to do is kill you. Olaf Tryggvason alive and here in Midgard will benefit us... and you as well. But first-" He raised a hand in prompt of Olaf's perplexed look, "- You must tell me the truth." He leaned forward, never once breaking eye contact. "Why have you really returned?"

Olaf contemplated whether telling him the truth or not. He was wary of those who were not his friends but, he was a stranger in these lands and he was in need of an ally. At least Alvid claimed he did not want him dead. Not yet, anyways. If that time ever comes, Olaf would find a way around it.

"I have come to fulfill my destiny. I am to unite this land and its people under the true god."

Alvid gave him a funny look. "Is that all? I am surprised. I thought a warrior such as yourself would desire something more than that. I assume your destiny also says you will be the one ruling Midgard under your 'god'."

"Under my rule, I can change Midgard into something better. No longer shall we be divided, depending only on raids to sustain us. When I am king, I will see this land become independent and powerful like all the other kingdoms across the seas."

"It's a bold dream," Alvid commented, "But I cannot see what is wrong with how things are now. We have been living this way for generations, and it has never failed our ancestors."

Olaf swiped his hand through the air. "That is the past. I am talking about the future. There will come a day when the coins in our pouches won't have been stolen from another man's sweat. We will make our own fortune, from our own hands. I swear, I will see that day come to pass."

"Then there is only one man who stands between you and your future," Alvid said, his face grim. "Haakon Sigurdsson. He is the current reigning Jarl among all the jarls in the land. You must get rid of him first if you want to rule."

"Is that not the same man you claim gave you a deal for food?" Olaf asked with a frown.

"For an outrageous price," Alvid spat. "My village has always been self-sustainable but with our current state it seems Haakon finally has an advantage over us to get us into debt with him. And as if that weren't enough, he demands for my daughter to warm his bed."

Alvid cursed the bastard while Olaf was left mildly confused.

"Why not trade from the other villages?"

"It would be a waste of my time," Alvid sighed. "Haakon controls most of the trade, except for the fish market of course. The other jarls will turn me away under fear of Haakon's punishment. None will help me... unless they fear someone greater than Haakon."

Olaf grew skeptical. "You think they will go against Haakon because they fear me?"

Alvid nodded astutely. "When words comes telling Olaf Tryggvason has returned to conquer Midgard, most will side with you. The people of Midgard grow tired of Haakon and his ways. I personally know a few jarls who would be glad to get rid of him."

Olaf hummed, stroking his beard. "Say I defeat Haakon. What after? I am not foolish to think the other jarls will submit to my rule that easily."

"I cannot speak for the others, but know you have my allegiance. If your dream comes to pass, I intend for my people to profit from it."

"As you will," Olaf assured. "As Christians."

Something flickered in Alvid's eyes, too quick to decipher. He brought the cup to his lips but stopped and chuckled. "I think that is the only thing Haakon has in his favor. He is devoted to our gods."

Olaf smiled but it did not reach his eyes.

"There is only one true God."

Alvid's eyes snapped onto Olaf and finally Olaf could see a spark of hesitance in them.

"They are all faithful to the gods. They will not accept you and they will not listen to a single word you have to say."

Thrud was right. They are all faithful to the old gods.

But the old gods are the past and must be erased to make way for the future.

Before Alvid could reply, the doors to the entrance of the longhouse burst wide open and a few guards hurried inside. Olaf and his men shot to their feet but the guards did not attack. Instead they went directly to the jarl and told of draugrs at the gates. By the way they were acting, Olaf would have assumed this was the first time they have seen the undead.

Even he got a chill, remembering the horrible glares of the dead. There was something about draugr that coaxed fear into fearless men's hearts and he knew it wasn't something natural.

"They're attacking from the river. They've never done that before!" Alvid said as they rushed outside the longhouse.

Olaf didn't like the sound of that. "Have they ever gotten into the village?"

"No, never. We've always managed to hold them back."

As they made their way across the village, a familiar voice caught Olaf's attention and then a woman was grabbing a hold of him. It was Edith and she was babbling about draugrs and keys.

"Not now, Edith! Get back inside the jarl's house. You will be safe there," he ordered and was already off running to the gate, hoping the nun listened to him and gotten to safety.

They reached the wall and he followed Alvid up a plank structure where on top the archers stood shooting arrows below. From where he stood, Olaf could see the entire expanse of the frozen river and just at the shore, draugrs. The godless creatures emerged from melted pockets in the ice, shooting off into a sprint to the wall. They were shot down quickly and the few who did reach the wall didn't last for long.

The last draugr fell, and there was a collective breath of relief.

"That was the last of them, lord," Biorr informed.

Alvid nodded, "Good. At sunrise I want them all burned."

A sudden hush fell over each man.

They all stared at the river.

Olaf's heart sank but he gripped the handle of his sword nevertheless.

One by one, a little orange glow appeared underneath the ice, until the entire river was lit up.

"By the gods..." Alvid whispered in horror.

No - Olaf thought as the first few draugrs clambered up out of the ice.

The gods have abandoned them.

A lone horse galloped through the thick dark woods, each stride kicking snow up into the air.

Its rider looked towards the heavens.

Way up high, the dark branches of trees whizzed by against the pale grey sky, its tree limbs blurring together as if the völva herself were weaving them into a basket.

It as has been a long time since she has traveled through the forests of Midgard but she did not lose her way.

The sky began to darken when she finally caught sight of something hanging from the tree branches. She tugged on the reins and circled around the tree, trying to get a better look.

Barely visible, a string of tiny bones hung, swaying slightly in the frosty wind.

It was a warning for most.

She nudged the horse forward but let it stay in a steady trot. The women who lived here like their solitude. Foolish mortals who strayed too close may find themselves wandering the forest forever.

The further they went, the more she spotted bones littered among the trees.

A soft growl came from her right. She whipped her head to catch a glimpse of something disappearing behind a tree. Crunching snow sounded from her left but there was nothing there when she looked.

The horse snorted and shifted nervously in place.

Without a word, she got down from the horse and slowly scanned her surroundings. There was only trees and trees- She stopped and swept her sight back on a man who stood out in the open. He was so still she had almost mistook him for another tree.

Another! To the right made themselves known. She counted more than ten strangers circled her, possibly more behind where she did not bother to look. Some let out soft huffed barks and some crawled closer to her on their hands and knees, appearing more like an animal draped under all that fur.

The horse neighed frantically and lifted its fore legs off the ground. She placed a firm hand on its neck and instantly the horse relaxed. It knew no harm would come to it with her around.

She took a step forward, eyeing them, waiting for them to make a move. A gruff snort was her only warning.

A beast of a man charged at her, his mouth stretched wide open making short grunting huffs. His eyes, wide and wild, reflected nothing but madness.

She stood her ground and yelled in a loud commanding voice, "Stop!"

The man froze a hair's breadth away from her, shaking like he had been doused in cold water. She startled him out of an attack but the desperate craze was seeping back into his eyes and she knew it was only a matter of time before she lost him to the animal inside.

She bent her head down, making sure to keep eye contact and said in a low voice, "Move aside, cub."

That only served to rile him up more and it seemed like he was going to maul her. She would have thought him brave if his mind was not under the effects of the henbane. She recognized the magic brew from the smell on his breath.

"Let her pass."

The man looked behind him, giving her a view of the person who had spoken.

"Vala," she said when she saw the shaman- a woman with long dark hair wearing a skeletal headdress, black powder smeared down her face that made the whites in her eyes pop out. She carried at her side a twisting wooden walking stick; her wand, her power, her distaff.

"Follow me," was the seeress curt response and she turned around and simply walked away, leaving bare footprints on the fresh snow.

The animal-like people let her follow after Vala without trouble. She led her horse by the reigns, glancing back once to see they have disappeared.

"I did not know the völva kept berserkirs and the úlfheðnar for company," she commented when she caught up to the seeress.

"We require only their protection against the draugrs."

She raised a knowing brow at the seeress. "The völva do not need protection."

"It is better to lose a few 'hounds' than one sister," Vala replied coldly.

"You are using them," the horse rider accused, an edge of anger in her voice.

"We do what we must to survive, and they are not without reward. Henbane is what they desire most and we have plenty to give..." Vala stopped and looked up at her. "But you have not come here to discuss business trades of the völva. You want to see her; the Deer Mother. You have questions you believe only she can answer."

"How did you know?" She paused and shook her head. "No, nevermind. Of course you already know."

They left the forest and arrived at the encampment of the völva. Her horse was taken to the stables while she followed Vala through the grounds. Throughout the camp, only women, young or old, could be seen going about their mysterious tasks. They passed by a group surrounding a fire pit, chanting to their goddess Freya while draining a goat's blood into a bowl. A little girl sat squatting next to them sucking on a shriveled up chicken's foot.

Vala ended up taking her to the other side of the camp. There, there was a steep path that led up the side of a mountain. If one were to fall, it would be instant death for way down below rested tide pools surrounded by jagged rocks. Even if one survived the fall and the rocks, the tide would sweep in and drown the unlucky fellow, giving the crabs and the fish a hearty feast.

"The Deer Mother will be waiting for you in a cave at the top." Vala handed her a torch. "You will get your answers up there."

The seeress made to leave but she quickly called her name.

"Vala, have you- have you seen her?" Her heart was hammering inside her chest but she had to know. She had to know if she was okay. Even though she was the one who left.

Vala's face softened, "I'm sorry, Thrud. Nobody has seen her in years. I tried to look for her in my visions but I can only see fog. She is either hiding or... or she is gone."

Her heart clenched but she smothered the worry down. She was here on a mission and she needn't be distracted by personal problems. She part ways with the seeress and began her travel up the mountain.

The air grew colder the further up she went. Once, on a particularly steep slope, she stepped forward and her foot slipped. She inhaled sharply and she shot her hand out, gripping onto a curve in the wall. She regained her balance and watched as snow and some rocks fell down, down, down... It was too dark and she too far up to see or hear it hit the bottom. She chuckled breathlessly, gathered her wits and trudged the rest of the way up.

At the top, the path ended onto a wide flat platform. Ahead, the entrance of an enormous cave was carved into the side of the mountain in the shape of a triangle, fire torches lit on both sides.

There was no snow on the ground.

Mystified, she bent down and touched the floor.

Cold, like it should be, and yet it is like this place has gone untouched by the winter surrounding them.

Finished with her observation, she straightened back up and headed to the cave. She halted just before the entrance and stuck her torch out. The darkness was impenetrable. She could not see anything. There could be something right in front of her and she would be none the wiser.

She tightened her grip on the torch and entered the cave, the darkness swallowing her from sight.

Down a tunnel she went, deeper and deeper until only her footsteps could be heard in the silence. She was beginning to wonder how far down she had to go when she caught sight of a glowing orange light. She approached it and found herself stepping out into a spacious cavern. The light that she had seen came from torch sticks placed in a circle in the center of the room and in the middle of the circle of light rested a pile of dirt. Though there was no danger present, she kept herself on guard as she wandered closer to get a better look.

One step forward- crunch!

She froze and lifted her boot off the ground.

Teeth. Hundreds of tiny, human, teeth. Sprinkled in the shape of a circle surrounding the pile of dirt. It's been awhile since she's brushed up on her knowledge on magic but it was safe to assume this was some type of barrier. To contain or repel, she had no clue.

A sudden draft of wind swept through the cavern, followed by low whispering that made her swat at her ears. The torches blew out one by one, including her own, and she was left standing in darkness for only a second before the ceiling cracked wide open. Mystical blue light poured into the cave followed by humongous tree roots that curled onto the floor, worming their way inside the heap of dirt. A low guttural moan sounded from underneath.

She watched as the dirt moved as a naked old woman revealed herself, crawling out of the dirt like some draugr. Her skin was dried and wrinkled and her tits sagged flat to her stomach and she was completely hairless save for a few white strands sticking against her balding head.

The area around her eyes were two sunken holes and from them flashed two glowing blue orbs.

The witch opened her mouth and spoke but her voice sounded wrong, like there was multiple people talking at once.

"Prudr, daughter of Thor, ally of the Stone Trolls. We have all been waiting for you."

Prudr tensed upon hearing her true name but she hid her surprise with a curious raised brow.

She slowly circled the witch, examining her closely. Behind, tree roots supported her up by her spine, digging inside her skin. Spiderweb like roots spread at the back of her neck, pulsating a blueish glow.

"You're not the Deer Mother," she commented idly.

"We only occupy her body."

Prudr hummed and came to a stop before the witch. "How do you know me?" she asked, her hand creeping behind her back to brush against the handle of her war hammer.

"We know everything about you, little butterfly."

Prudr flinched. "Don't call me that."

The possessed witch tilted her head and what could be mistaken for melancholy passed her face.

"Butterflies are so easy to crush," she whispered. "He will crush you, too."

Her hammer was out before she even realized what she was doing. "Who are you! What do you want?" she growled between clenched teeth.

The witch's glowing orbs narrowed into slits and when she spoke it sounded like she was talking to somebody else. "Ah, ill-tempered, just like her father."

Anger flared hot in her belly.

"I am nothing like my father." Prudr gripped her hammer tighter, a drop of sweat rolling down her face. "I won't ask again. Who are you. What do you want."

"We have only come to see you with our own eyes. The last piece of the puzzle." The witch reached out for her, as if fascinated by her presence. "Your return has set in motion things you cannot begin to understand... Speak now, child. Ask us what you will from the Deer Mother."

Prudr hesitated. She didn't know if she could trust their word but she decided she didn't come all this way for nothing.

"The serpent," she said finally and licked her chapped lips. "He is awake."

"Smelt your father's blood running through your veins."

"There's draugrs everywhere." Prudr tried to keep her breathing under control but it felt like something was squeezing her chest. "The dead are not staying dead."

"Not enough room down there anymore."

"And this winter!" Prudr laughed but it sounded odd in her ears. She shook her head, her eyes wide and her bottom lip quivering slightly. "We are in the middle of summer!"

"Ask us what you already know to be true, child. Ask us now!" the witch bellowed, a gush of wind blowing through the cave.

"Ragnarök!" Prudr exclaimed. "Is this Ragnarök? Is this the end?"

The wind died down and all was left still and silent.

"Yes."

Prudr felt sick to her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat.

"My mother! Is she-"

"She is alive."

A wave of relief washed over her. Prudr leaned on her hammer and closed her eyes. "Then it is true. I have come back home to my own destruction. Maybe it was fate all along."

"It is only fate to those who've never gotten off the stage."

Prudr squinted at the witch. "How would you know. Only the Norns-" Her eyes widened and suddenly it clicked. Prudr straightened, finally realizing who exactly she was talking to.

She could've sworn she saw a glimpse of a smile pass the witch's face.

"Go now, child. Your friends need you. Hel has come to claim them." The witch's body began to deteriorate, pieces of her flesh becoming ash. "If you fail to stop her now she will have Midgard by dawn."

Prudr's hear stopped. "Olaf," she whispered and turned on her heels and dashed for the exit. She barely heard the last sigh of the witch before she was running through the tunnel and out the cave. Outside a blast of wind hit her in the face along with little droplets of rain. As she ran across the platform, the light sprinkling turned into a sudden and fierce downpour.

Down the mountain she went, almost slipping many a times in her rush. The wind howled like a caged beast and with its might threw her against the wall! She held on for dear life when she felt it pushing her the other way in the direction of the stair's edge. The rocks cut into her fingers, spilling blood but she gritted her teeth through the pain and cast her eyes toward the heavens.

A thunderstorm unlike any she has ever seen greeted her. It's fury -she could not help but feel- directed all at her.

He demands you return home! The witch's voice said in her mind.

"No!" Prudr screamed at the sky.

A bolt of lightning struck the side of the mountain, breaking off boulders. The thunder that came after shook the ground. It was a clear warning. But she refused to give in. She refused to be scared of him.

"I am not my brothers. I am not afraid of you!" she yelled over the storm. "You do not own me and you cannot control me!"

She was huffing for air by the time she ended her speech. Despite her threat, the storm continued and she hid her face in the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping to wait it out, although that wasn't the best idea since Olaf and the others were in trouble. She could not, will not, let them die. Not to draugrs and not to Hel herself. It was her duty to protect them; protect them all.

It was something her father had once sworn to do.

Anger sparked in her chest and in her defiance she cried, "You will not stop me! Strike me down if you must but you will never defeat me." The rain relentlessly hit her face to a point she couldn't tell whether her cheeks were wet with it or wet with her tears.

Prudr threw her hand up. "Do it, you coward! Strike me down!" She waited but only thunder boomed in response. She screamed in rage. "Do it!"

A gasp tore from her lips. Lightning struck the mountain, too fast to count how many times. She covered her head as rocks fell over her.

Prudr didn't move until she could no longer hear the thunderous booms or feel the droplets of rain on her skin. She peeked her head out from underneath her arms. The storm had vanished as quickly as it came.

Exhaustion swept over and she slid down onto her knees. She let out a choked sob and smashed her head against the wall and screamed. In fury, pain or sorrow, she did not know.

How did this happen? When did things go wrong?

When did they start hating each other?

Prudr could have stayed there, lose herself to her misery but the thought of Olaf made her rise. Her friend was in trouble. Hel was going to kill him and kill everyone in the village.

She will not let that happen.

"Thor lights up the sky. Something must have angered him greatly to draw upon his wrath," Vala said on her arrival back into camp. Prudr ignored her, heading straight to her horse. "What did 'they' tell you?"

Prudr paused and squinted at Vala. "You knew?"

"The Deer Mother sacrificed her body and her life to serve the Norns. The least you can do is tell me what they told you."

"Ragnarök is upon us." Prudr untied the horse. "Hel walks the earth, and she is going to slaughter an entire village if I don't stop her."

"Then take the úlfheðnar and the berserkirs with you. They will help you."

Prudr gave her an odd look. "You would give them away so easily?"

Vala snatched her arm in a tight grip. "If Hel is not stopped now, we will fall next."

Prudr nodded and the völva released her. She led the horse outside the camp and was greeted by a group of wildmen. A man shrouded in wolf fur approached her alone.

"I am Gundulf. The witch promised us more henbane to fight with you. Once the battle is over we will take what we want and leave."

"Fine," Prudr spat and mounted her horse. "Go to Fiskr. Help the men there."

"Where are you going?" he asked when she maneuvered her horse in the other direction.

Prudr raised a brow and smiled slyly, slipping a troll necklace out from underneath her shirt.

"I'm going to bring a friend."