Chapter Restructured & Expanded: 09-02-2023.
Ao3 Tags
[My Magnum Opus] [Mysterious Plot] [Multiple Universes Colliding] [Dark-Fantasy/Mystery/Romance] [Psychological Horror] [Blood and Injury] [Permanent Injuries] [Disability] [Mediaeval Elements] [Armour & Knights] [Horses] [Old English] [Middle English] [Modern French] [Norse Myth/Legends] [Anglo Saxon Myth/Legends] [Roman Myth/Legends] [Christian Elements] [French & English Aristocracy] [Italian Influences] [Historical & Mythological Influences] [Magic] [Cosmicism] [Death & Rebirth] [Time Distortion] [Isekai] [Manga & Anime Fusion] [Foreshadowing] [F/F] [Slow Relationship Development] [Unhealthy Relationships] [Character Development] [Morally-Grey Protagonist] [Sexual Tension] [Asexuality Spectrum] [Mental Health Issues] [Moral Conflict] [Amnesia] [Slow Burn] [Long Story] [Adding More Tags] [Rating May Change]
Before you begin, here is some required context:
Terminologies
Arcewælcyrge (singular) Arcewælcyrgan (plural) — the Old English translation for Arch-valkyrie/Arch-sorceress. Valkyries (governed by Freya/Frig, not to be confused with her brother, Freyr/Ing) are the choosers of the slain from the Norse/Germanic pantheon. These Goddesses ride horses and wolves within the skies above battlefields. The Norse (including today's Germanic Pagans) believe that if you are to die with a weapon in hand, you shall go to Valhalla/Wælhael, the mead hall of the Gods. It is also believed that the Northern Lights are the reflections of their armour.
Wælhael — the Old English translation for Valhalla. It is essentially a waiting room for the Fate/Twilight of the Gods (Ragnarök). Note — There is no translation for Valhalla nor Ragnarök as they don't seem to appear in Anglo Saxon Heathenism. The closest translations I can offer is "Wælhael" and "Wyrd þæs of Godu" (Fate of the Gods).
Wyrd — of fate/destiny controlled by three norns/elves. You have seen the inspiration of Wyrd without realising it. The symbolism of three witches derives from Wyrd. In Scots-English this word eventually evolved into the word "weird".
Ánhere (singular) Ánhergas (plural) — the Old English translation for Einheri (singular) and Einherjar (plural). Án/ein means "one" whilst here/heri means "army". These are the chosen slain of Wælcyrgan/Valkyries and as the name suggests, are formidable. In Germanic belief they await Ragnorok in Wælhael/Valhalla which is under Wodan/Odin's rule).
Grimmsyll (mostly) — one of Yggdrasil's many Old English translations I chose. This great ash tree has several names in Cyne Wælcyrge and you will discover why much later.
Dates
The dating system you see in Cyne Wælcyrge is based upon the Anglo Saxon system. Some months have been altered whilst most days have been adjusted. This is because they directly reference Gods. You will find out why the Gods have been removed much later into the story.
Days of the Week
Note — During the Anglo Saxon centuries, a new day started at sunset, not sunrise.
Monandæg (Moon's Day) remains Monday
Tiwesdæg (Tiw's Day) to Wigesdæg/Wigday (Warrior's Day)
Wodnesdæg (Wodan's Day) to Hidesdæg/Hideday (Worker's Day)
Ðunresdæg (Ðunor's Day) to Moldedæg/Moldeday (Earth/Earl Day)
Frigedæg (Frige's Day) to Mynetdæg/Mynetday (Coin Day)
Sæternesdæg (Saturn's Day) to Bæþdæg/Bathday (Bath Day) - Norse
Sunnandæg (Sun's Day) remains Sunday
You may recognise these Gods through their Norse names: Mani, Tyr, Odin, Thor, Frigg and Sól.
The reason Saturn (Sætern) is randomly here is due to dozens of Roman Gods being worshipped alongside Brythonic (Ancient British) ones during the Roman Invasion. Many of these Brythonic Gods have Roman equivalents. Some examples include: Andraste = Britannia, Ambisagrus = Jupiter, Camulos (corrupted into Satan by Christians) = Mars.
Mars is an odd one out because there are hundreds of Gaelic War Gods. It got to the point that the Romans got culture shock by how integrated war was in Pretani (Britain's name in Latinised Brythonic). What perhaps makes this more ironic is that Pretani might mean "People of Forms". This may reference woad (blue war paint) or tattooing (seen as a divine protection bestowed upon warriors during battle). The Romans took this name and gave the British Isles Britannia's name (the Goddess of Victory and War).
Today she is still the personification of Britain (including the United Kingdom) and is on the Pound Sterling, the oldest currency in the world (around 1,246 years old). She is also sometimes compared to Queen Victoria (for victory and empire) and Queen Boudica (for rallying against the Romans).
Months of the Year
Note — The Anglo Saxon year starts in December.
Winter
December - Ærra Geola (Preceding Yuletide) (Anglo Saxon)
January — Æftera Geola (After Yuletide) (Anglo Saxon)
February — Sōlmōnaþ (Month of Cakes/Rainfall/Mud) (Anglo Saxon)
Spring
March — Sawanmōnaþ (Month of Sowing) (Goa, Norse)
April — Gastesmōnaþ (Month of Spirits) (Fake)
May — Thrimilce (Month of Three Milkings) (Anglo Saxon)
Summer
June — Ærraliða (Before-Mild) (Anglo Saxon)
July — Æfteraliða (After-Mild) (Anglo Saxon)
August — Weodmōnaþ (Plant Month) (Anglo Saxon)
Autumn
September — Hāligmōnaþ (Holy Month) (Anglo Saxon)
October — Winterfylleth (Winter's Full Moon) (Anglo Saxon)
November — Blōtmōnaþ (Month of Sacrifices) (Anglo Saxon)
All of these Anglo Saxon months you see here have been taken directly from Saint Bede's notes. He was an English mediaeval monk who archived a great deal of Anglo Saxon writings and culture.
Here concludes your abrupt history lesson.
Story Theme I: Sakuzyo — Heaven's War and Downfall
XI • CM Bæþdæg of Sōlmōnaþ
(The 11th Night of Cake Month, Bath Day, 900)
The warrior felt nothing but an overwhelming chill.
It coiled around her like a wanton lover; close but far away as well.
What is happening? She didn't know; the black stars littering her sight refusing to clear her confusion. Furthermore, the sting—no, the agony—of her wounds vanquished any concise answers.
All she had were incontestable questions.
Where is she? What is she doing sitting upright against this rubble? Who is she? Why is her only memory of an explosion? …Is she dying?
Unaware of her surroundings in the desolate desert, she may have been spooked by encroaching fog.
Alas… for the warrior only paid heed to the taste of iron now.
Blood?
It dribbled down the corner of her lips, staining down her jaw.
Why?
The fixation of her wounds abruptly changed. Now her mind returned to the explosion. Had it taken place moments ago? Had it harmed her? She hadn't the faintest clue…
Hair tied loose, coal strands rested against jagged and worn armour. Within the dull sunlight, rays reflected upon the metal alike a mirror. These were sollerets, spaulders and gauntlets. This protective metal was ignored; or mayhaps it merely went unnoticed?
Adrenaline within the warrior's body dispersed, smashing her into a harsh realisation. A spear is pinning her against the rubble she's propped against.
It deeply impaled her stomach, making her suck in a breath. Yet, she breathed? H-how has this happened?! She touched along the gaping wound, only feeling colder. The spear she only noticed a moment later, clutching at it hazily. Sight blurred as she absorbed its detail. The blade had flawlessly ripped through her leather tunic. Blood gushed from the wound freely, making her further lightheaded.
Cold. She's so cold!
It feels like her blood is freezing, making her breath become tighter. Spluttering, her ashen features twisted in pain.
To not know oneself when dying; is this that sensation she's experiencing?
Roughly swallowing, she tasted further iron and winced.
Next she caught sight of a bloody broadsword. Its tip is cracked; a chasm following the column of the blade, making it useless. For whatever reason, she had the relentless urge to reach for it. But remain where she is, she did. Her sight unfocused as she stared at it.
This weapon; did it belong to her? As if that is enough, her hesitation broke. For a moment, Kuga Natsuki prepared herself, straining for it.
Flesh protested, screaming into her very nerve-endings. She gagged, wheezed and choked; fingertips barely brushing the hilt.
Why did she want this blade?
It's broken.
Long ago it had been cast aside. Yet even so, there she is, prising it between her fingers.
Grasping the spear—no, the naginata—she stilled. Gasping harshly, she cursed. What is she even doing?! I-it… it wasn't like she could swing the thing! Gritting her teeth, she hissed through them.
Really… to die like this…?
LĒOHT GAEST II: CYNE WÆLCYRGE I — FIRENE PEUMA
(Luminary Ghost II: Royal Valkyrie I — Torment's Origin)
ACT I
Þá Ġedrēfnesse of Frwirædea
(The Confusion of Uncertain Minds)
CHAPTER I
Āwæc-nian (Revival)
Staring down at the woman, Shizuru Viola glided her black-booted foot away from the advancing blood.
What did she have here?
The gored and dirtied woman appeared like she had been thrown into a dungeon. Her armour's ripped; the metal dented.
'What in the Gods' names has happened to her?' She thought, though this question isn't important. After all, they were in the Black Valley besides the Sprites' Forest.
This is the forgotten realm of souls. A place so wretched it has destroyed all surrounding life. Here, there's only endless sands.
Resting a palm against her rapier's hilt, Viola leaned closer towards the warrior. Her trained eye studied the dead woman.
What battle had she belonged to? Her scarlet gaze fixed with curiosity, eyes latching to the strange polearm plunged inside this woman. A sliver of the blade is visible. What is that? It looks Zipangese, but that country is thousands of miles away!
This woman had been outright gutted. Had she been standing? From her position, it seemed to be the case. Though the sand has been disturbed.
Viola frowned faintly. 'Has this woman experienced the Black Valley?' She wondered, standing straight. Taking another step back, she avoided the advancing bloodpool.
Expertly done, she eased beside the warrior.
No. It isn't possible, surely? A human experiencing the Black Valley before death is rare indeed. Let alone… Her gaze scoped the broadsword held tightly. Two weapons were extraordinary. Could this be what she has been searching for?
"...Are you Ánhere?" She murmured, pressing an index and middle finger to the woman's throat. There was no response. Her confusion rose, lowering her digits to the warrior's chest. How strange. Surely this woman is Ánhere? She would have awakened otherwise. "Are you a lost soul from elsewhere?"
Perhaps she is a wandering HiME who has accidentally found Wælheall?
'No, those rifts have long since been sealed.'
Sliding her fingers against the woman's chestplate, she sighed.
Tugging at a chain necklace, Viola prised out a violet crystal from beneath her frilled shirt. It shone a dazzling emerald within this desolate place. If this soul isn't responding, she shall force it to communicate. From the essence of the throat, conversing will be applied.
Gently wiping an index finger across the pale woman's lips, the skin was immediately stained with blood. Rubbing it against her thumb, Viola pitted her gaze once more upon the woman. Pricking the crystal into her thumb, a glittering glow illuminated the crystal, particles flowing towards the warrior.
Patiently Viola watched the scene; the green transforming into a crimson. A realisation crept within her eyes, her mouth opening a hint. This wasn't a wandering soul at all! It really is a HiME who had been slain! A HiME cursed with undeath, their only hope to be found by a Wælcyrge!
"Ánhere, are you valid?" She questioned the corpse, the red particles seemingly flickering. An excitement almost betrayed her, before she refocused. "Ánh—"
"Ugh." The woman muttered, sagging forward. Her weight grounded against the spear, but Natsuki didn't seem to notice. She's unaware of her surroundings, let alone the woman beside her. Staring down at her grave wound, confusion gradually dug inside her. What? She's alive?
Dark stars lifted from her gaze, gradually clearing her vision. Upon this, her expression twisted, wondering why she felt… nothing?
"Ánhere?"
Jumping, Natsuki's attention bolted to the brunette woman beside her. Who's this?! She startled, she abruptly became angry. She couldn't explain why she felt so. Glaring outright at the woman.
Why does she seem amused?!
"Y-you…" The word uselessly sloshed around Natsuki's tongue, making her groan. "W-who are you…?" Her throat is raw; it protests from being used. Why is that? Why could she even speak, nevermind breathe?
"That is not important." The woman spoke, watching her carefully.
The red particles enveloped Natsuki. Before she could comprehend it, she fell unconscious. Into the brunette's arms she went, a strange warmth filling her.
What is existence?
…Did she belong anywhere?
XVI • CM Moldedæg of Sōlmōnaþ
(The 16th Night of Cake Month, Earl Day, 900)
Natsuki's eyes snapped open.
The first thing to hit her is the confusion.
Lying flat on her back and in absurd discomfort, she found herself surrounded by warmth. An array of thick blankets were covering her form. They protected her from the cold within this unfamiliar room—a spacious but sparse room.
In bafflement she looked around this chamber.
Above her were wooden beams which supported a tall ceiling. In the bed she lay in, the curtains were thin and transparent. This was enough to focus through the curtains and further scope her environment.
"I see that you are awake."
A lightly accented voice spoke, catching Natsuki off guard. Relentlessly Natsuki attempted to find the person, eventually doing so. Behind the curtain in the far corner, a figure stood. By stature she hazard a guess it's a woman who's beside an armchair.
Wearily her gaze remained fixated upon her, watching her every move. Natsuki attempted to speak, but nothing escaped her. Why? She helplessly stared at the unknown woman who sat herself down in the armchair.
"It would appear—" The woman spoke, crossing her leg. "—that you were somewhat lost."
There's also a long piece of clothing slung against the chair. Is it a jacket?
Lost?" Natsuki sure felt it.
She has absolutely no memories to speak of! Nevermind could she comprehend these current events. Natsuki could understand what the woman said, but for how long would this last? It's like she's on autopilot—driving on instinct.
…Not to mention, Natsuki is suspicious of this woman. Is she a threat? 'Who is she?' What were her intentions? 'Where is she?!'
For a long while they both remained quiet.
Through the curtain the two stared at one another, almost sizing each other up. After a further moment, the woman stood, venturing towards Natsuki.
"I found you northwards in the Black Valley, a realm the living tend to avoid." The woman explained vaguely, pushing past the curtains. She eased closer to the cautious Natsuki, keeping a polite distance.
Yet, the face Natsuki saw made her breathless.
She—oh, wow. This woman is slender and has a sharp face. Tawny tresses enveloped her face, the strands curling along the ends. B-but… those eyes are what pulled Natsuki inwards. They are scarlet; deadly yet oddly warm. Natsuki stared into them, unable to fathom them.
Are those natural? Amnesia or not, these eyes are peculiar. S-she—Natsuki's heart raced, not entirely sure why.
"The Black Valley?" She managed to force it out.
"I would suggest you do not move." The scarlet-eyed mystery dodged the subject. "You were heavily wounded and lost a large amount of blood."
That… that makes sense, Natsuki mulled, not noticing her question had been ignored.
After all, Natsuki is far too captivated by this woman.
Her clothing is outlandish—foreign. But if she can remember nothing then—this makes no sense!
She wore an argent ruffled shirt with the collar partially undone. Unable to help herself, Natsuki's eyes pulled downward.
There's the faintest hint of a deadly scar peeping out from the shirt. Is… is that along her heart?
"Y-your trousers." She pointed out, only now noticing the white fabric stained by crimson. "There's… blood on them?"
The woman seemed surprised, but only for a moment. She meticulously stood, her harnesses and sheathed rapier rattling upon this action.
Is it blood? Surely not, right?
"I carried you." She smiled.
Natsuki's heart skipped a beat. "You did?" Hang on though—"Wait, I don't understand. I was injured. Shouldn't I be feeling something?" There is a faintly cool sensation against her stomach. What is that?
Apprehensively, Natsuki looked beneath the covers and froze.
Bandages had been wrapped entirely around her torso.
It's a little too much, but at least it kept her modesty? However, against her abdomen are the clear signs of injury. A large blemish of crimson oozed within candlelight.
"W-what happened?" She stared down at the covered injury.
"You were impaled. You are lucky I found you when I did."
The woman pressed a palm gently to Natsuki's forehead, pausing.
This warrior is surprisingly reserved, considering she had been dead a few hours ago. Though… Viola reminded herself, she has never dealt with a miracle such as this. Who knows what else is possible?
"W-who… who are you?" Natsuki warily asked, cautious viridian eyes studying her. Pushing the hand away, she continued. "I don't remember anything, I can't even remember getting injured?"
Viola retreated her hand, the floorboards underneath her creaking. "I am Shi—"
"—zuru, I have the things you wanted." A light tapping sounded at the door.
The woman—Shizuru—paused mid-sentence. She passed Natsuki an apologetic glance, twisting on her heel. "Yes, come in, Mai." She headed for the door to open it.
"Is she awake?" A redhead spoke under the doorway, handing the woman a basin full of water. She glanced towards the bedridden Natsuki, a grin plastering her face once seeing her. "Hey there."
"…Hi?" Natsuki arched her brow, watching the redhead oddly. She lifted a hand in regard, her focus soon reattaching to Shizuru.
Shizuru utters her goodbyes to the newcomer, the redhead retreating from the room. "Now then…" Shizuru murmured, placing the basin against the nightstand. "Might I know your name?"
'My name?—' "—Natsuki." She muttered suddenly, freezing once she realised what she had said. 'Is that my name?' She had the strangest thought—had she just remembered her name on the spot?
"Na-tsuki." The brunette rolled the syllables upon her tongue, testing them. Observing Natsuki, Shizuru tilted her head slightly. "Do you know the meaning of your name?"
The meaning of her name? It's supposed to have one? Natsuki stared at her.
Shizuru mulled upon the look she received, brushing her fingers to her lips. Odd. Perhaps in Natsuki's previous life, her name hadn't been given meaning like hers? "My name means quiet stop."
Perhaps if it has no meaning, perhaps they could give Natsuki one? Ah, no matter, Shizuru decided. That's a topic for another time. Instead, she knelt before the bed, taking a cloth which hung from the water basin. "May I?" She asked, gesturing to the waterlogged fabric.
Quiet stop, huh? Natsuki's train of thought is broken by the next question. The cloth? "L-let me." She gruffly mumbled, trying to grab the cloth from Shizuru.
The brunette merely watched her attentively, finding the demure demeanour rather charming. 'She is certainly something.' Shizuru held her calm expression, having the cloth taken from her.
"Where is this place?" Natsuki slid the fabric along her jaw.
For a while now Natsuki has been trying to read Shizuru. Alas, she could not. Frustration quickly started grinding within her mind. What is her motive? Natsuki honestly didn't know whether she could trust her yet.
Why should she, even?
"This is Guadeloupe Palace. It is a small royal province within the Kingdom of Windbloom. It is Earl Day, the sixteenth night of Cake Month, 900. Our ruler is Queen Mashiro Blan de Windbloom."
"Okay, so…" Natsuki sluggishly absorbed the flood of information, her face scrunching up. What a weird date. "I know nothing. I feel like I just dropped onto the planet." She was given a knowing smile which baffled her further. What's the smile for?
"You shall be fine. All that remains important is your recovery. I will explain everything when necessary."
But… ugh. Natsuki covered the cloth over her eyes. It's not like she had any other choice. The Worst thing is, she's already starting to feel restless. Shuffling her legs unconsciously, she tried getting at least some movement going. "So what happens now?" She took the cloth from her face, offering it back unsurely, sighing.
"Recovery. I shall be leaving for a time, so you should rest." Shizuru rose, folding the cloth as she did so. Placing it inside the basin, she then took hold of it. "Once I return you can eat."
With a click of the door, Natsuki was left in silence. She stared up at the ceiling of her bed, lost in thought. This Shizuru… She had rescued her, correct? But why? She had been found in the… Black Valley, yes?
Hells if she knows!
Natsuki had the urge to find out for herself. But she couldn't exactly go waltzing around, could she? Besides, as this Shizuru had stated, she had been wounded. Even if she could stand, where would she go? By its name, this is assumedly a palace. A Queen lived here, so this meant heavy security. If she slipped up, it could be her throat on the line. Or… would it? Why is she assuming this is hostile territory?
Frustration builds up inside her and a growl emitted from her chest. Pushing the blankets from herself, she gave herself a better lookover. The bandages were neatly lining her form, suggesting a steady but caring hand had wrapped them.
Has Shizuru done this?
Touching along the wound, it felt more alike to a harsh bruise. Curiosity caught her, and she added a tad weight into the touch. Regretting it, she flinched; pain spiking up her form jaggedly. Hissing, she bolted her hand away, dropping it to the mattress.
What is even happening?! Clueless! She's clueless! That's all she is!
Giving up, she eventually decided to take the woman's word. Uncomfortable even so, she relaxed, closing her eyes.
For a long while she's unable to sleep.
For the past half hour or so, the room's temperature has dropped.
Her hands are freezing!
But.. why? She examined them absentmindedly, looking upon the blotches of her palms. The skin is much paler than usual, and the tips of her fingers were red. Why? Scrunching her hands into fists, she watched her knuckles whiten.
"Tomoe has returned from the expedition. Should I tell her about this person?" A familiar voice muffled from the other side of the door.
Footsteps were heard above creaking floorboards, making Natsuki stiffen.
"No. It would be best that she meets her personally."
Shizuru and the redhead? That's Natsuki's only guess. She strained to hear more but this got cut short and the door opened.
"I will make arrangements later this evening. Thank you, Mai." Shizuru said, Mai on the other side of the doorway.
"Of course. I'll see you later, Shizuru."
The door gets shut firmly.
The slender woman approached Natsuki with a tray in hand.
Setting her sights upon a bowl atop it, Natsuki wonders what it is. That's food, isn't it? It certainly smelled good—
"Did you manage to sleep?" Shizuru asked, placing the tray onto the side table. She lowered closer to the injured woman, bracing her.
"N-not really." Being eased into a sitting position, Natsuki took a slow breath. The wound stung, but nowhere near enough to unsettle her. Again, why is that?
'I was impaled, wasn't I?!'
With her pillow being adjusted by Shizuru, she watched her. She needs to understand who Shizuru is.
"You have many questions, but so do I. Neither of us know what is happening. So shall we work together in order to piece this puzzle together?" Shizuru asked of her, guiding the tray down before Natsuki.
"Ah…" Natsuki was silenced. She looked down to the broth which had been presented before her. "Thank you."
"Take your time." The woman smiled, the action not reaching her eyes.
Arc I's Theme: Amberian Dawn — Sunrise (Re-recording)
A/N: This is the rewrite for one of my first ever fanfics, The Valkyrie Saga. Back in 2009 I decided to give writing a try. Somehow I still love the Mai-Series to bits, so in late 2015 I thought, why not rewrite this? If you're a masochist, you can read The Valkyrie Saga in my Abandoned Concepts. Please be aware that it's full of cringe.
February 2023: It's been such a long road that Cyne Wælcyrge has become my magnum opus. It's nowhere near completion and I honestly don't want it to finish. I can't even estimate how close the finale might be.
Either way, if this is the first time you're reading Cyne Wælcyrge, I recommend you read Paradoxe first. This will help cushion you into the concept that Lēoht Gaest is part of the Solstice Series. As of 2023, there are currently six realms (universes) within it: Wyrmgærd, Forodríce, Wælheal, Maelstrom and Gástgærd. Each realm translates to a series' universe. For example, Lēoht Gaest's is Gástgærd.
As you read, you will slowly start piecing things together in the Solstice Series. Due to this, you won't get the full picture from reading just Cyne Wælcyrge.
Adding further to this, Lēoht Gaest takes heavy elements from Norse (Mediaeval Scandinavia), Anglo Saxon (the Heptarchy Kingdoms of England), Frankish (Kingdom of France), Roman (Empire) and Slavic culture.
Here is a list of literature I am using for reference:
Beowulf (Old English Poem/Story)
Le Morte d'Arthur (Middle English Novel)
The Canterbury Tales (Middle English Poems/Stories)
The Prose Edda (The Norse Sagas)
The Anglo Saxon Chronicle (The History of Britain)
The Wanderer (Old English Elegy)
The Seafarer (Old English Elegy)
Deor (Old English Poem)
Hávamál (Norse Poem)
Saint Bede (Mediaeval Historian/Monk)