I'm working on Hertha's lineage.
Valkyrie
Valkyrie
The
sky was darkened with shiny beads of light, racing towards the ground. With
each collision, the little fat rain circlets chimed into the wind.
“The people have forgotten
us,” insisted Ares as he walked to the back of the garden and rested his hands
on a small wet glistening pillar.
“No, that’s not it. The people have no need for us. They have not forgotten us,
they have shrines with our likeness centered in their gardens. Our people
believe us to be dead and gone because they are defeated,” explained Phobos as
he took a small circlet into captivity. “Yet, there are mortals who still
believe in Gods. Those mortals are panicking because they feel a great war is
about to open up and pour chaos onto their grounds. Some are worried about
never being able to join their brothers in the great Valhalla. Our people are
silent. I have summoned you here because their panic gives life to me and it
makes me wonder, father. We can be great again. We can silence the other Gods
by taking their believers. We need only one follower who can perform magical
works by way of us, and bring back the Greek Gods.”
“We are dead, Phobos, are we not? Zeus wanted all of the Gods forgotten and buried.
He wanted us to stay out of the human’s problems.”
“Zeus, is weak. He gave his power up to protect the mount. Are we to waste away
because he is no longer great? Ares, you still have the power over war. You can
become the new leader over Mount Olympus. We are not dead, we are not weak, and
we did not give up who we are to be forgotten by these mindless people. 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. Are you with me, father?”
Ares looked down at his dark trousers and picked up a small bug. “Yes, and I
know exactly what to do.”
Scandinavia Eve
of Mischief
The sky was almost fully darkened by
a vast shade of darkness as Aase ran behind a tall swollen tree. With small
branches cracking around her in every direction, Aase froze once again. There she
stood, holding her relics in her hands while Vikings circled her domain. She
closed her eyes and prayed the Gods would bless the darkness to come with
haste. After finishing up her prayer, she opened her eyes to cold blue orbs
beaming up at her lips. “Get away from me, Hafling.”
The blue orbs grew
larger as the Viking came closer and pressed his hand against her breast. “I
like tall ones.”
“Do you?” Aase plunged
her knee into his ribs until he hit the ground with a loud thud. “Do you like
tall lasses now?” Before she was able to deliver another blow a large hand
grabbed her by the hair and pushed her against the tree.
“Do it! Show this
sackless whore what we do to bitches.”
Aase felt her face
being scraped against the tree’s bark. Before she was able to take a breath,
she felt her dress being ripped from behind. The tall warrior grunted and pumped
her hips over and over, Aase slowly felt her legs give way. She tried to brace
herself once more, but she was caught off balance by the stirring of a hot
liquid bursting into her body. After it was over, she pulled her dress together
and rubbed the bark out of her eyes.
The small man
walked up to Aase and grabbed a handful of her golden hair. “Don’t you want to
know, whose barn you carry?”
Aase tried to pull
away, but he wouldn’t let her. He motioned for his servant to come into sight. “Meet
my slave!”
Aase felt sick
once again. She had been raped by someone who wasn’t even a Viking. She looked
at the stranger and noticed his dark flowing hair. He frowned as she threw up
near the Viking.
“You vile
creature, you allowed someone to rape a Laird’s daughter. Odin will kill you
for this.”
“Worry about your
womb,” grunted the Viking as he knocked her head into the tree.
A few hours later
Aase woke up to a group of women standing around her. “Who did this to you?”
“I don’t know. It
happened very fast,” lied Aase as she tried to cover herself.
“We have to tell
father. Surely he will make him marry you,” demanded her sister.
“Nei, there is no
need. I killed him.”
“Aase, what if you’re
pregnant?”
“I’ll think about that
when the time comes.”
Scandinavia Present Day
“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!”
“Go back to sleep, you sackless gurl. The men will be needing that torch soon.
You better figure out how you plan to replace it before they figure out it is
missing. We have a few more hours before the sky brightens up,” snapped 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, like yourself,” snorted Erica. “You are
hearing things. What can a skinny twig of a gurl like yourself, do in the great
battle? You my dear, are letting all of the elders get to you with their Odin
talk.”
“We all have a place in saving our people’s future. My slenderness makes me
quicker than most. What about our ma’s vision? She said we were destined to be
special. Do you not recall it? Besides, I know what I heard. I heard it in my
own ears. I could even feel his cold breath on my neck,” whispered Hertha as
she ran her fingers across the side of neck.
“Aase, this is your doing,” insisted Erica as she frowned. “Our Aase said a lot
of things, and none of them made any sense.”
Hertha shook her head and put on a long dress with a thick brown cloak. “I know
what I heard, and I believe her. She was always right and she knew about the
Gods. I’m not sleepy anymore, 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.”
“Find what?”
“Go!”
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.
“Now that you have found my gift, we must talk.” The tall man bent down and
brushed his long dark cloak against Hertha’s face. “Hertha, hear me now. Listen
not with your trained eyes, but with your heart. You are needed for a great
cause. The Ragnarok will soon be upon us, and only the best of feigra manna,
will make it to great Valhalla. I need a guardian like yourself. I will give
you the gift of life and you will vow to serve us always.”
“Anything you say, Great Thor,” whispered Hertha weakly.
Ares held his cloak together and
smiled. “You have been chosen to die a great death for your people, but you
will 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.”
A wave of confusion washed across
Hertha’s face as she slowly placed her hand around the sword's uniquely shaped
hilt. The sword was longer than her arm with oddly shaped letters running down
the fuller. With shaking arms, Hertha tried to hold the sword upwards in the
air, but the blade was too heavy to maintain.
Ares took hold of
the sword, and smiled. "Be patient, we are not finished yet.” Ares grabbed
Hertha by the face and looked into her eyes. Before her head hit the ground, he
was off once again.
The snow started
falling once again, covering both Hertha and the sword. The coldest prompted
Hertha to open her eyes once again. “Thor, give me strength,” demanded Hertha.
She grabbed the sword and thrust it into the cold frozen ground. “Nei, I can do
this.” She pulled herself up by pressing her weight on top of the hilt. After
she made it to her feet she looked around. Her eyes were now focused. She no
longer had problems with seeing objects far away from her. She grabbed the
sword and flung it in the air. “By the Gods, I am great.”
Erica reached
down for the wooden knob sticking out from the door as Hertha was nearing the
entrance. “Are you mad, gurl? I was about to send the men for you. If you don’t
want to be treated like a barn, you need to act your age.”
“I’m going to
fight in the next battle,” insisted Hertha as she pulled her wet clothes off
and placed them in a corner.
“Not this
again—we have talked about this. You are not fighting. You are not a warrior.
You need to gain the attention of one of the Lord’s sons. He has plenty and you
can gain honor.”
Hertha looked at
Erica sternly. “The Lord’s sons are all sackless.”
“You can be
beaten for that,” grunted an older man holding a stein in his hand.
Hertha laughed
and stepped into a pair of trousers.
“What are you
doing, gurl?” Erica grabbed a dress and pressed it against Hertha’s chest. “Are
you looking for a fight?”
Hertha pushed the
dress back in Erica’s arms. “You wear it. I will not wear another dress. Why
must I feel a draft drifting up my arse every moment of the day? I can’t fight
with a dress. They have on trousers and thick cloaks. They have warm boots. I
want warm boots too.”
Erica smiled
nervously as the men started to gather around. “For the love of Odin. Just go
before you can’t go.”
With a big grin
springing across Hertha’s face, she reached for the door. Before she could open
it, a large arm landed on her shoulder. “Let me go.”
“Take off those
trousers,” hissed a tall man with his hair hanging below his chin.
“Let go of me.”
As the words came tumbling out of Hertha’s mouth, the man struck her across the
cheek. Hertha reached up and grabbed the man’s beard. She continued to pull him
closer until he grabbed her by the shoulder. She placed one leg firmly behind
her and grabbed him once again with both hands on his chin. “I said, let me
go.”
The man
reached down and placed his hand on Hertha’s hip causing her sword to fall to
the ground. Before she could grab the sword the man picked it up and held it to
the light. Hertha frowned deeply and reached for the warrior’s arm. “Give me
that, it isn’t yours.”
“It isn’t
yours either. Who did you take this sword from? You’re a thieving little, twit.
I’ll show you.”
Ares looked down
and shook his head. “Phobos, this is your idea. You might want to help your
little warrior.”
Phobos smiled as
he looked down at the warrior. “Done.”
The warrior
grabbed his head and looked around the room. “Where am I? “Who are you?”
Hertha grabbed
the sword as the men stood around looking confused. “I have to go.”
Erica looked at
the door. “I’ll come with you.”
Hertha pushed the
door open and grabbed a nearby torch. “You better hurry, I feel a storm brewing
our way.”
“Quickly, come
this way,” whispered a tall man with brown wavy curls flowing down his back.
Erica pushed
Hertha towards the side of the building. “Who are you?”
“The gods have
sent me to escort you to safety.” Phobos pulled Hertha near his chest as other
Viking warriors were coming from the inn. “Come now.”
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