But what the hell, I'm a freaking writer!
“The people have forgotten us,” demanded Ares as he walked to the back of the garden.
“They have no need for us anymore. Our people believe us to be dead and gone,” insisted Phobos. “Yet, there are mortals who still believe in Gods. They are panicking because they feel some great war is about to begin. I have summoned you because their panic gives life to me and it makes me wonder, father.”
“We are dead, Phobos.”
“We are not dead, we have simply been forgotten and left for dead for centuries. What if we can make new followers and bring people back to us, would it not be worth more than anything we have seen? I feel alive again, and I feel the need to thrive.”
Ares looked down at his dark trousers and picked up a small bug. “I know exactly what to do.”
“Wake up, my child. You are needed for the great Ragnarok, go now.” Hertha grabbed her torch and flung it around. “Who’s there? Come out!”
“What are you doing? Why do you have a torch near your head? Go back to sleep, Hertha, and give me that torch. The men will be needing it when they go for their next hunt. We have a few more hours before the sky brightens up,” moaned Erica as she pulled the thick elk’s skin, over her shoulders.
“Nei, someone called out to me. The voice said I was needed for the Ragnarok.”
“The Ragnarok, and a twig of a girl,” snorted Erica. “I’m sure you are hearing things, Hertha. What can a skinny girl like yourself do in the great battle? You my dear, are letting all of the elders get to you with their Odin talk.”
“I am not and I am not that skinny. What about our ma’s vision? She said we were destined to be special. Do you not recall it? I know what I heard. I heard it in my own ears. I could feel his cold breath on my neck.”
“Go back to sleep, Hertha.”
Hertha shook her head and put on a large pair of trousers. “I know what I heard. I’m not going to bed, I’m going for a walk.”
As the sun came up in the morning sky Hertha was able to take in an unbridled look at the land. The snow was ankle deep and the branches were covered with a heavy sheet of icy snow. The white blanket was so heavy that it bent the branches of the trees, causing them to brush against the ground. While the branches were cracking loudly underneath the heavy snow, animals were trying to escape with their very lives.
“Go to the river,” whispered a voice from the wind.
Hertha turned around and looked for the owner of the voice. “Who’s there? Say it again.”
“Go to the river, and stick your hand in the icy waters until your fingers start to burn,” demanded the voice.
“Why should I? Why would I do such a stupid thing? You wish to mangle my hand,” snorted Hertha.
The wind blew violently forcing Hertha’s braid to unravel and fall below her shoulders like a river of gold. Hertha held her cloak tighter against her body and held her head down. “Who are you?”
“I am your protector, your leader,” whispered the wind.
“Are you Thor? Are you sending me into battle, Mighty Thor?”
The voice was quiet for a few seconds. “Just go, Hertha. We are depending on you.”
Hertha moved faster through the thick snow until she came upon the river. “Nei, it’s frozen. I can’t do anything. It’s hard as a rock.”
A large boulder started to roll from the mountain beside the river. Hertha ran behind a large tree as the rock hit the icy river just adjacent to her body. “Go now, swim to the bottom of the rock and there you will find it.”
Hertha placed her cloak on the ground and mumbled a silent prayer. “Gods save me now.” She rushed down into the icy river. As she was swimming downward the waters started to harden. “I’m going to die.” She pushed forward until she made it to the rock. By the time she made it, the water was quickly turning back to ice. Near the ground she saw something shiny shimmering. With her strength fading, she swam deeper until she was on top of the long shiny metal. “It’s a sword.” She grabbed the sword and began her journey to the top of the river. With each movement she could feel her life slipping away. The sword was cutting away at the ice until finally she was near the top. Her body floated to the bank and her eyes closed.
“I see you have found my gift,” smiled a tall man wearing a white shirt with dark trousers. “Hertha, you will die today, but you will also be reborn. You will no longer be just Hertha. You are now be Hertha the Great Valkyrie and this sword will be your protector, it is called ULFBERHT.”
Okay So I know Valkyries are only in Celtic mythology and they answer to Odin. However, I thought it would be neat to cross mythology beliefs. To be honest this is what gets me in trouble with my work. I have odd names and I write about a mixture of things. However, it feels really good when I can let my imagination run and just write. I need to create right now, and there is no telling what the creation will be at the end of the day. Maybe this is what the reviewer was talking about when he gave me a 1 for The Alien Recruitment. If I recall it right! He said I need to make my mind up. Well I have made my mind up, and I want to write about whatever makes me feel happy inside. I write for me and if that makes me horrible, unworthy, or anal, I will happily wear that hat. This is about me trying to clot my pain in the only healthy way I know. Give me feedback, and let me know what you think about Valkyrie.