Blader followed Loqé through the streets of the settlement as she looked for the barracks he had been assigned to. After several minutes of walking, the noise of so many people being in the same place still pounding his ears, Loqé finally found the correct barracks, all of them long and low with only one story, and walked up to it.

Barrack 232 was posted over the door and Loqé touched the sensor. The door slid quietly back into its socket and the Valkyrie stepped inside, gesturing for Blader to follow her.

They walked into a small entryway, with one einherjar standing there with a screen floating before him. To the left was a door with the female rune, and to the right, a door with the male rune.

"Name and number," he ordered.

"Blader Thrym, 97118," Blader told him, showing his tags.

The einherjar ran the number through his database and nodded. "All right." He gestured to the right door. "Through you go, Bunk 3. You are free to leave, Valkyrie."

Loqé nodded and glanced at Blader. "See you around," she said quietly, and turned and left the barracks.

Blader palmed the sensor and stepped through the door as it opened. A long room stretched away from him, filled with a row of bunkbeds, small, square trunks sitting at the bottom of the beds. Everything was identical, except for the numbers posted beside the bunks.

The third bunk was the top bunk of the second set of bunkbeds. Over a small table holding a washbasin, a pair of hooks hung beside the numbers for swords and shields, the standard equipment of the einherjar recruits. His father had told him that training in spears, bows, and axes were minimal until after the Reenactment.

Hanging up his weapons, Blader headed to the foot of the beds to see two square trunks, half the size of a normal trunk, one labelled with a three and the other with a four. He opened the one labelled three and deposited his pack inside before closing it and gazing around the space. Inside the trunk were several pairs of dull grey training tunics and the official recruit uniform, the same dull grey but with a more rigid design.

There were twelve bunkbeds total, twenty-four spaces available. At the far end were two small bathrooms, and against the wall opposite the bunks were several long benches. Near the last bunkbed was a shut door marked with the rune for assembly.

The door opened behind Blader and another recruit walked in. Tall and muscled with thick, floppy black hair that hung in his dark wild eyes, he was a couple inches taller than Blader but had a more wiry build. He nodded to Blader as he stopped Bunk 4.

Noticing Blader's weapons, he glanced over at him. "Three, I take it?"

Blader nodded. "Blader Thrym."

"Wolfsted Kyll," the recruit said, offering Blader a grin. "Looks like we're bunkmates."

Blader furrowed his brow, waiting for Wolfsted to say something about him being Aetlun Thrym's grandson. But he didn't, just hung up his weapons and tucked his pack away before turning back to Blader.

"How long do you think we have until assignments?" Wolfsted asked.

Blader shrugged. "I have no idea. They didn't inform me of that."

Wolfsted snorted, tossing his forelock out of his eyes as he sank onto the bottom bunk. He frowned as he tested out the mattress. "Where you from, Thrym?"

"Njordesden. You?"

Wolfsted glanced up. "Wait, Njordesden? The place that never sends recruits?"

Blader gave a grin. "Well, first time in eight years."

"Nice." Wolfsted rose. "I'm from Aldri."

"That's by the border, right? Up north?"

Wolfsted nodded. "Yep, near Jotunheim. I may be wrong, but the name Thrym sounds mighty familiar. Why is that?" He looked up at Blader through his black hair before brushing it out of his eyes. "Vidar's foot, I'll have to cut this off before the drill master makes me shave my head clean." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a knife, which he flipped open. "Hey, Thrym, do me a favor?"

"Sure." Blader strode over and took the knife from Wolfsted as the recruit sat back down on the bed. "Where do you want it cut?"

Wolfsted demonstrated with his finger. "Right below here." He held his finger at the mark as Blader brought his knife up and began to cut through the strands of hair. There was silence as the little pieces of black hair drifted to the ground. When Blader finished and snapped the knife shut, handing it back to Wolfsted, the recruit stood and shook his hair out. "Better, thank you." He bent to wipe the strands of hair into his hand.

"No problem," Blader said.

The door opened and Sodull and Erik entered. They grinned at Blader. "We've got one and two!" Erik called. "Coincidence, huh?"

"Some," Blader called back.

"Who's your bunkmate?" Sodull asked, tossing his pack onto the lower bunk.

Wolfsted furrowed his brow. "I'm Wolfsted Kyll. You guys from Njordesden, too?"

Erik snorted. "No, Drottning. Erik Kjoll."

"Sodull Trautt."

Sodull and Erik stored their packs and hung up their weapons as more boys entered the sleeping quarters until all twenty-four bunks had been claimed. The jumbled noise of the room was overwhelming as names and cities were tossed around. Blader knew it would take a while to have the names of the boys memorized, at least their last names.

The door they had entered through opened and everyone turned toward it as the einherjar who had signed them in clapped his hands for attention. "Listen up, recruits!" he shouted. "Go through the assembly door to receive your assignments."

Then he was gone, heading towards the girls' side to give them the announcement.

Blader, Wolfsted, Sodull, and Erik joined the crowd as they filed through the door into the assembly room. The room ran the length of the barracks and had several windows along its far side, looking out into a street that another door led out into. There were benches scattered throughout the space, all facing toward the wall separating the room from the sleeping quarters. In the exact center of the space was a huge stone fireplace and hearth, swept clean of ashes. There were several logs in the fireplace but a fire hadn't been lit yet.

Beside the fireplace, leaning on the thick oaken mantle, was an older einherjar, dressed in official uniform. He watched as the boys filed in and gestured for them to stand before the rows of benches on their side of the room just as the door on the opposite end of the space opened and the female recruits came in.

Skalfi gave Sodull, Erik, and Blader an acknowledgement wave as she went to stand in the front. Beside her was a tall blonde girl with her hair braided and fastened around her head, her appearance the complete opposite of Skalfi's, what with her short dark hair that was slightly messy at this point of the day.

"All right, recruits!" the einherjar in the center shouted. "Stand still and listen up, for I'll only say this once. I'm Drill Master Sigmund Utan, but you will refer to me as Master Utan.

"Tomorrow starts the first course of your training, the Ragnarok phase. You'll be honing your abilities to fight with your sword and shield, in duels and in a group setting. You will be taught basic skills with a bow, a spear, and an axe, as well as how to ride horseback. You will need to know survival skills, and our history, both Old and Reborn.

"I've heard some recruits here don't think history is important to survival. I disagree. Your first course of training is all about history, for the Reenactment is about the days of past and the trials of the Old Cosmos, the trials that ended up destroying it. If you don't know how our world ended the first time around, you'll fail to protect it now. And we can't have that. You'll know who ended up taking this history seriously when only a portion of you come out of the Reenactment alive."

The einherjar paused as the recruits glanced around at each other. Blader, however, kept his gaze on the drill master. He knew the risks of the Reenactment. He had known before enlisting that there was a good possibility of death.

"That's right. You can die before even reaching an actual battle as einherjar. The Reenactment is designed to kill you. That's always been its purpose. Before the worlds were destroyed the first time, einherjar had to die, in battle, honorably, in order to join the ranks. Since that's not how things are done anymore, we had to devise a new way to test your mettle. Hence the Reenactment. The whole purpose is to see how you act when your life and the lives of your comrades are in danger, wherever that danger comes from.

"So pay attention in your history classes – they may just save your sorry hides. For the next two months, you will be training to save your life during the Reenactment. If – and only if – you survive the trials will you be accepted as a true einherjar. You must have honor to pass the test, so I advise you get some if you don't already have it. The Reenactment is designed to kill those without the honor, wits, and courage to survive. You won't make it out if you're a scumbag."

Sodull raised his hand into the air, Erik shooting him a panicked look as the drill master whipped his gaze around to look at him. "What in Odin's name, recruit?"

"If the Reenactment is designed to kill the unworthy," Sodull began. Blader had almost thought he was going to say something jokingly, but his tone was deadly serious and so was his expression. "Then how come Dyr Gunar made it through?"

Silence fell on the room as everyone looked from Sodull to Utan, holding their breaths as they waited for an answer.

Utan considered Sodull's question for a minute. "We don't know, recruit. For interrupting, you will be sentenced to cleaning the dining hall after dinner. Name."

"Sodull Trautt." He didn't even look like he regretted asking as Erik and Blader shot glances at him. Even Wolfsted looked thoughtful and many of the other recruits had similar expressions. Utan just continued with his speech.

"Tomorrow morning, you rise at five. At five thirty, you will be in this room. First you have running laps, fully armored and equipped. Then you'll report to the dining hall for breakfast. After that, you will have history, dueling, lunch, survival training, group maneuvers, horseback, weapons, general workout and cooldown, and finally dinner and a small social period in the assembly room before lights out at ten. Any violation of this schedule or the rules of conduct will result in a punishment such as inquisitive Recruit Trautt received, or worse. Sanctions are taken out of your own time, recruits. Let me repeat that, to make sure everyone understands. Your punishments are served out during your own time. That means you miss one of your vital training sessions. This is the difference between life and death. So don't step out of line, or it could be your life." He paused. "Fall into line behind me; we're heading to the mess hall."

The recruits of Barracks 232 followed Master Utan to the mess hall, where they filed over to the tables under their number and took their seats. Sodull, Erik, Wolfsted, and Blader managed to sit together at one of the long tables, Skalfi and the blonde girl joining them.

"Hey," Skalfi greeted, sliding onto the bench. "This is my bunkmate."

"I'm Vandrilla Merki," the bunkmate said with a blinding smile. "But that's such a long name to call out on the battlefield, so just call me Vandri."

Skalfi cut her eyes at her. "On the battlefield, you'd be Merki."

Vandrilla, or Vandri, ignored her.

The boys all introduced themselves as the tables started to be called up to receive their dinner. "So, Vandri," Wolfsted began. "Where you from?"

"Hraustliga," Vandri said, naming the capital city of Midgard. "You?"

"Aldri," he replied, his voice suddenly sounding a little defensive. Aldrians weren't always considered the most respectable people of Midgard, what with their closeness to the jotuns.

"The border?" Vandri said, her eyes widening slightly in a way that made her look curious. "I've never met one of the bounty hunter people before."

"Well," Wolfsted said, his voice back to normal. "We're a rare kind, we are."

Skalfi rolled her eyes as Vandri glanced at Blader. "You said your name is Thrym?"

"That is my name, yes," Blader said.

"Any relation to Aetlun Thrym?"

Wolfsted's mutter of "So that's why it sounded familiar!" went unnoticed as Blader nodded. But before he could say anything, Sodull spoke up.

"He's his grandson."

"Really?" Vandri asked with a smile. "A legacy! Same with me; being a legacy, I mean. Second generation, my mother served. What generation are you?"

"Fifth."

Before Vandri could respond to that, their table was called. Skalfi's "Thank the gods" was ignored by the group as they trooped up to get their food.

The meal consisted of vegetables, roast venison, and a slab of thick bread, alongside a cup of water. Everyone got the same thing, the same amount. It tasted good though, and was filling.

No one spoke during the meal, and by the time they had finished, they were being told to rise and head back to their barracks. Sodull was held back, per his assignment, as the rest of 232 marched out of the hall along with the other units.

The recruits entered the barracks through the assembly room and made small groups throughout the room. Erik, Wolfsted, Blader, Skalfi, and Vandri assembled by the fireplace.

Conversation focused on their homes, about Aldri's location on the Jotunheim border, Drottning's harbor and experience with vikingr, Hraustliga's prestige and reputation as the mortal king's home, Njordesden's lack of einherjar. Blader was irked that Thor's Bridge was the main thing his comrades focused on in asking about Njordesden, not the area's farming community. Njordesden had the best farming land in Midgard, and the issue with the Valkyries there was the only thing they wanted to talk about.

It only took a couple minutes for everyone but Vandri to see Blader's irritation with their line of questioning. Skalfi was the first to attempt a change of subject, quickly backed up by Wolfsted. Erik falling silent, Vandri was the only one who pressed the issue.

"My mother says Headmaster Eirnn has no business leading a branch of Valkyrie," she said, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "She's reckless, and can be irrational. After the terrible way she handled the Dyr Gunar case, you'd think Orindi – the Valkyrie order's leader, mind you – would have removed her from command. But at least she gets the worst branch to lead." Vandri gave a sigh.

Blader didn't like Eirnn, but he didn't like Vandri's criticism of the Valkyries. Perhaps he himself hadn't had the best experience with them, but Loqé was a Njordesden Valkyrie, and he had a great deal of respect for her, especially after seeing her fight the wolves. He doubted Vandri could fight a wolf.

"The Njordesden Valkyries deserve more respect than that," he said quietly, his voice cold. "I've seen them in action; they saved my life. I've seen one fight wolves; she saved my sister. Maybe Eirnn doesn't have the best reputation, but the Valkyries of Njordesden still dedicate their entire lives to serving the Nine Worlds."

Vandri just gave Blader an astonished look as Skalfi brought her hand up to her mouth, covering her sudden grin. Erik looked thoughtful as Wolfsted nodded. "They didn't cause the bombing at that bridge. I don't see what the big deal is. They did their job, didn't they?"

"I think so," Skalfi said, her voice gaining a scathing note. "It seems that sometimes people are slandered, although they did nothing to earn that reputation, and it causes undue harm to them and those associated with them. Others should consider that before speaking and watch their tongues when it comes to speaking ill of people."

Vandri tossed her head, annoyed. "You don't have to get so worked up over it. They do have a reputation."

"Doesn't mean it's true," Skalfi replied dryly. Blader glanced at her. Unlike Wolfsted, Skalfi seemed to be taking this personally.

Wolfsted nodded. "As someone from the border, let me say Skalfi here is correct. Lots of lies are spun about Aldrians just because of where we live, and I'm sure that's true of everywhere else."

Erik nodded. "I agree with Wolfsted, but I'd like to ask you a question. I'm not just trying to change the subject, so hear me out. What do you think the answer to Sodull's earlier question is?"

"About Dyr Gunar?" Skalfi checked. Erik nodded.

"Perhaps it was a fluke," Vandri said. "A mistake."

"Maybe he changed," Wolfsted shrugged. "People are always changing."

Blader shook his head. "I don't know. I think that's the same type of question as why did Loki live in Asgard? Sometimes things just happen. We don't get answers from those at the top."

Wolfsted pointed at Blader. "I like that one. That's a good one. I'd love an answer to that question about Loki, though."

"Ask whoever teaches us history," Skalfi said. "I'd like to know the answer to that one about Gunar. If anyone finds out, tell me."

Erik nodded. "It just makes you think, you know? We're about to risk our lives in this Reenactment and it could be faulty." He shrugged. "I'm glad Sodull thought to ask the question, at least."

There was a brief silence. All around them, the other einherjar were talking and laughing, beginning to form their own little groups. A fire had been lit and the flames were crackling cheerily.

"The wolves," Blader said. "How many of you have seen a sudden increase in their attacks?"

Everyone but Vandri raised their hands. "They came up to the walls, I heard," Skalfi said. "They were sniffing around the harbor, too. Killed a drunk fisherman who had fallen asleep in his boat." Erik nodded.

"The night before I left," Wolfsted said. "There was a sizable pack that raced through Aldri. Took a team of Valkyries and hunters to chase them off."

"They attacked the farms in Njordesden," Blader told them. "What day did these attacks occur?"

"Last Freyjadagr evening," Wolfsted said, and Skalfi and Erik nodded.

Blader felt a chill run down his spine. "Same day in Njordesden."

Vandri frowned. "I don't know about wolves around Hraustliga because I had already shipped out for Vigrid. I was with the first batch of recruits to arrive."

"So you had to camp out for a week?" Wolfsted asked. "Not fun."

Vandri gave him a condescending look. "We'll be doing it for the rest of our careers, Wolfsted. We might as well get used to it."

Wolfsted frowned. "I'm from Aldri. I've been camping since I was a kid. Doesn't make it any more fun, so don't talk down to me like I somehow don't know what I'm talking about."

The conversation didn't get a chance to continue, which was probably for the best, for a bell sounded and the recruits were send to prepare for bed. As Blader climbed up onto his bunk, shortly before the lights all went out at ten o'clock sharp, he couldn't help thinking, No wonder Vidar was sent to investigate. But that was all he thought about on the subject of the wolves, for before falling asleep, he wondered what his family had done that day and if they were missing him.

/**/

What did you think? Of the other einherjar, of the routine for the following months? What were your impressions of Vandri, of Wolfsted? And your thoughts on the wolves?

Sorry again for being late! This whole week was off. Hopefully I can get back on track for next week. Here's hoping!

Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed! Remember to vote and comment!

Skylar Wittenborn