Valkyrie (Kate O'Hearn) - By Kate O'Hearn Page 0,3
ceremony without us!’
Valhalla had been dressed for the ceremony in the most beautiful flowers that grew in Asgard. The high walls had been scrubbed, the spires that rose high into the air all flew the flag of the Valkyries and the weapons adorning the doors had been cleaned and polished. All the grounds surrounding the hall had been groomed. There wasn’t a thing out of place.
Outside the Great Hall, the slain warriors stopped fighting and gathered together along either side of the entrance to greet Freya. As she approached, they all bowed their heads.
‘See, they’re not so bad,’ Maya whispered as she smiled radiantly at the gathered warriors.
Freya wasn’t convinced. ‘Just you wait. The moment we’re inside, they’ll go back to slaughtering each other in the name of amusement.’
Maya sighed. ‘That is the afterlife they have chosen. Why must you condemn them for that?’
‘Because it’s foolish.’
‘It is their choice,’ Maya insisted.
Their mother appeared at the entrance. ‘You’re late,’ she chastised. ‘Everyone is waiting.’
Her mother was much like Maya. Tall, elegant and beautiful. ‘Yes she does,’ she admitted. She embraced Freya warmly.
‘You are my youngest child and I am proud to welcome you into the sisterhood of the Valkyries. Come, my daughter, come and take your rightful place among us.’
Freya stood directly behind her mother, while Maya took position behind her. As they approached the wide doors of Valhalla, Maya donned her winged helmet and then placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m right behind you, Freya. Always.’
Grateful for her sister’s presence, Freya reached up and gave Orus a stroke on the chest. ‘Well, this is it.’
‘Good luck,’ the raven whispered. ‘You’ll do fine.’
As her mother led her into Valhalla, Freya felt the eyes of Asgard resting upon her. Lining the aisle leading up to Odin were all the other Valkyries. They were dressed in their full armour and wearing their winged helmets. Their wings were open in salute as they raised their swords high in the air.
Freya knew them all by name, but there were none among them that she could call friend. She was the youngest and the last in the long line of Valkyries. But this wasn’t what made her different. For reasons no one understood, Freya was the first Valkyrie born with solid black feathers, as opposed to the white or grey wings of the other Valkyries. This difference made her stand out and was the subject of much talk and rumour. At times, she felt almost as if they resented her and didn’t trust her. Her mother had always said that her father was a powerful warrior of dark hair and piercing black eyes. She had been told that he remained in Asgard and was one of the warriors fighting outside Valhalla. But her mother had never pointed him out.
When she was younger she would walk among the warriors and wonder if she could find him. But as time passed and she saw how brutal they could be, she lost interest. Besides, she reasoned, he could have come forward to find her. He knew her mother – surely if he wanted to meet her he could. So if he wasn’t interested, why should she waste her time trying to find him?
The blasting of horns pulled Freya from her thoughts. Everyone in the huge hall stood to attention. As Freya followed her mother down the long aisle, she walked past her three sisters at the front. Their swords were held high, their armour shone and their extended wings glistened as they all smiled proudly at her.
Finally, Odin appeared with his family on a tall dais at the front of the hall and took a position to receive her. Following close at his heels were Odin’s two pet wolves, Geri and Freki. At Odin’s command, they sat and panted softly.
Freya’s mother bowed before the leader of Asgard, stepped to the left and knelt down. Freya followed suit and knelt before Odin. Her sister bowed and then knelt on Freya’s right.
‘Rise!’ commanded Odin.
Freya rose and stood before the imposing leader. She felt awed in his presence. Odin was a terrifying sight in his full, well-used battle armour. His wild red hair spilled out from under his large horned helmet and his red beard grew long and thick, down to his waist. His left eye socket was covered with a gold patch. It was rumoured that he had sacrificed his eye in pursuit of wisdom, but Freya didn’t know if