It was only as the sun was sinking that Blader reached the foot of one of the mountains of the range. The air was frigid, the wind cutting through Blader's grey tunic into his bones. With the sky's color fading, he'd need to find shelter and water, swiftly.

The mountains were covered with rocks, scraggly trees, and hardy plants. Blader climbed up off the ice wasteland, the earth under his feet feeling strange after all day on the cracked ice. After only a couple minutes of climbing, he found a small spring bubbling out of a hollow in the ground, sheltered by rocks on three of its sides. Crouching down, he scooped up a handful of the cold water and gulped it down. The water soothed his throat, parched after the day of walking and his fight, and he took several drinks before standing and looking for edible plants. He doubted he was going to be able to bring down a reindeer with only his sword, especially when there were no reindeer in sight.

Lichen growing on a nearby small tree attracted Blader's attention and he scraped it off, giving it a quick study for any bugs or other unwanted things, as well as determining it wasn't poisonous, before washing it in the spring and taking a bite. It was dry and coarse, but it was decent sustenance.

As he searched for a place to shelter, trying to stay close to the tiny spring, he continued to chew on the lichen. Before long, he had found another hollow, tucked between some rocks, which would provide adequate shelter from wolves or other rekkr searching for recruits. The sides were rock but the back of the hollow was earth, and if Blader set his shield up before the entrance, any movement of the object would wake him from sleep and alert him to the intruder.

Heading back to the stream, Blader drank more water to wash the lichen down and checked his vital signs. He was dehydrated from his long trek. After a glance up at the sun, Blader settled down by the stream and took long, slow drinks of water. He would wait until the light was almost gone before retiring to his hollow. After gently cleaning his wound, he pulled a pouch off his belt and unfolded it.

The pouches were standard einherjar equipment, made especially for times when one was stranded in the wilderness and needed to survive. It was waterproof and made to fold up easily so it could be attached to a belt for easy transport. However, with the exception of the pouch itself and the empty water canteen inside, the rest of the survival gear had been removed.

The trickling of the stream, the darkening sky, and the rustle of the wind were hauntingly beautiful, the starkness of survival. Having lived his entire life in Njordesden, Blader hadn't known what being on a cold mountain range was like, what it was like to have to scrounge for food from nature to survive. He'd grown up on a farm, where they grew their food over the summer, trading and selling the surplus to buy what they couldn't grow. They raised their own cows for beef, milk, and butter, and his mother's chickens had provided them with eggs and meat for stew. During the cold winters, they survived on the food they had carefully stored up in the autumn. None of the Thrym children had had to gather food or water from an unknown wilderness, or had to build shelter to stay the night in.

I wonder if this is what Aldri is like, Blader wondered, recalling Wolfsted's survival skills and his mention of Aldrians always camping. There were tales told about both Aldri and its inhabitants, tales of daring, cold, survival, and mead hall brawls. It was the wildest settlement in Midgard, went the claim, and its people were the toughest of all the humans. Just sitting by this stream, filling his canteen with water so he wouldn't always have to use his hand, Blader could believe those claims.

Aldri itself isn't like this, Blader amended. But their trips into Jotunheim could very well look like this.

He wondered if Wolfsted had ever had to live off of a meal of lichen before.

The sky was growing darker by the second and Blader needed to get into his shelter before the beasts of Jotunheim came out looking for food. He could already hear animal noises, although he couldn't see any creatures. Standing, he finished his handful of lichen, swallowing it down, before gulping down more water and rechecking his vital signs. He felt better, although he would definitely need to drink more water in the morning.

Blader walked the short distance to his hollow, crawling inside and twisting around to face the front. Placing his shield before the opening, he checked that it was secure between the rocks and placed his sword across his knees, ready for if anything tried to attack him.

Inside, the hollow was roomier than he had thought at first, with enough space for him not to have to sit curled up in a ball. After shifting into the most comfortable position he could find, Blader leaned his head back, feeling the solid earth against his back as he closed his eyes.

The noises of the mountain at night struck his ears as he attempted to rest. For a while he just stared at the back of his shield, feeling restless as he waited for an animal to find him and try to make a meal out of him. He'd never had to sleep outside before, not like this. Once, at Blader's and Ivan's pestering, their parents had let the two of them camp in front of the house on a summer night, only a couple yards from the door. At first, it had been fun, lying on blankets in the grass, the rag shepherds lying protectively nearby. But when the novelty had worn off and the brothers had fallen silent, sleeping under the vast, starry sky no longer seemed to be as enjoyable as they had thought it would be. In the morning, Gunil had asked them how their night was. Blader hadn't missed the weary, triumphant glances his parents had exchanged when the boys had confessed to not liking it.

And now here he was, eleven years later, sleeping outside again. And from what he'd heard, the Reenactment wouldn't be the last time he'd have to do this, as an einherjar.

Eventually, Blader dropped off into sleep, but it was fitful at best, his dreams always ending with some beast lunging for his throat and him waking up sweating and panting. Only one of his dreams differed, and that was the one that found him back on Thor's Bridge, waiting with the stun baton for the terrorists to board the Transriot. That, too, had ended with someone trying to kill Blader, but it had been one of the Valhallans, the energy knife blazing fire as it slashed at his throat.

Blader gave up on sleep as the sky was beginning to lighten slightly, showing the promise of dawn. Resolving to wait until it was sufficiently light enough out both to see and to ensure most of the night creatures had hidden, he shifted from side to side, moving his legs to try and ease some of the cramps, and keeping his eyes on the shield in front of him. His wound ached and he wished he could actually see the damage the jotun had done to his shoulder.

Slowly, gradually, morning crossed the mountains, the sun shedding light across the parts of the slope Blader could see through the gaps between his shield and the rocks. He heard the call of a bird and decided it was safe to leave.

Shoving his shield outward so that it clattered among the stones and let the morning light in, Blader crawled out of the hollow and stood up, his legs, arms, and back aching. He rose, stretching up and back to clear the pains from his limbs, his shoulder screaming in protest. The mountain air was fresh and cool, the chilliness pleasant after the stuffy air within the hollow.

After grabbing his weapons, Blader walked down the slope towards the spring, breathing in the morning air. He felt decidedly cheerful for being in the Reenactment. He couldn't help it. There was something about morning air that just made him feel good. Or it could simply be that he no longer had to be inside that hollow.

Blader knelt down beside the spring and refilled his canteen so he could drink, the cold water delicious and refreshing. He scraped up some more lichen, laboriously chewing on the tough plant before swallowing and washing it down with more water. He checked his vital signs. He was still dehydrated, but he felt good, despite the lack of sleep.

Glancing up the mountain slope, Blader tried to figure out his next step. Where should he go from here? He could head up the mountain, looking for some way to cross over the range to see what lay beyond the mountains. Perhaps that was best. There would be more cover, more sources for food and water on the mountains. He'd head up the mountain slope on a diagonal path, see if he could find another way to cross the range.

Blader drank some more water and ate more lichen before checking his wound again, washing it out with some of the cold water. Then he washed his face, the water splashing his skin and running down the back of his neck, sending shivers down his back.

Scraping off some more lichen from the nearby tree, Blader took the pouch and tucked the lichen into it, just in case he needed it later. He then filled the canteen and placed it back into his pouch alongside the lichen and slung it over one shoulder. His shield and sword went over the pack and he started his trek up the mountain.

Scraggy plants filled the slope, alternating with rocks across the hard ground. As the sun continued to ascend into the sky, Blader kept moving forward, stopping every now and then at other springs to drink some water from his cupped hands. No need in draining his water reserve if he didn't need to.

It was about midday when he saw the figure.

The person, a female if he could go by the hair, was about a hundred feet above him, crouching by the banks of a large stream, the largest one Blader had seen all day. She held a stick in her hands, hovering it above the surface of the stream, her back to him. Her body was perfectly still as she waited for something.

Blader slung his sword and shield down from his back quietly, unsure whether this was a rekkr or a recruit. After a moment of examination, he guessed she was einherjar, her tunic matching his.

Another moment brought a grin to his face. He knew this recruit.

The stick plunged into the water and Skalfi laughed triumphantly, withdrawing her makeshift spear to display the fish squirming on the end of it. Rising to her feet, she turned away from the stream and stopped dead when she noticed Blader.

"Hey," Blader said, feeling like his greeting was sort of an understatement.

"Blader!" Skalfi exclaimed, startled. Her hair had been drawn back into a short ponytail, a thin cut running down her face. "Hey!" She held up her spear, a smirk teasing at her lips. The end had been sharpened to a sharp point in order to stab the fish. "Just in time for a meal."

Blader laughed, crossing the distance towards her. "What, couldn't stomach the lichen?"

Skalfi gave him a cool glare. "First of all, unlike Wolfsted, I don't see the appeal in a 'wilderness diet.' Second, I'm from Drottning. Fishing is what we do. Well, that and repelling vikingr."

She picked up her sword and shield, lying on the ground near the stream, and gestured for Blader to follow her. They walked a little bit away from the stream, where Skalfi had a low fire going, the smoke leaving a slight, almost invisible trail through the air.

It took Skalfi minutes to scale and gut the fish, using her dagger. Blader found two more sticks thick enough to support the weight of the meat and Skalfi quickly sharpened their tips before skewering the two slices of fish and handing one of the sticks to Blader.

"This is your food," Blader tried to resist, but Skalfi just waved her hand.

"We can catch more if we need it. Besides, I've already eaten some of that lichen, it's not like this is my first meal in here."

As the fish cooked over the low flame, Skalfi glanced over at him. "So...how's it been?"

Blader shrugged, remembering the sight of the recruit's dead body. "Sigurd Nibel's dead. On the ice field." He nodded out down the slope.

Skalfi's eyes widened. "That soon? Do you know how?"

"I'm not sure. Probably frost jotun, as three attacked me yesterday."

"How'd you do?"

"Killed them." There was a beat of silence before Blader asked, "How about you?"

Skalfi frowned. "I've only had to fight a bear. Then again, it was a pretty big bear."

"Seen anyone?"

She shook her head. "No, only you." She pulled her fish off the fire, examined it, and then stuck it back over the hot coals. "So, what's your plan?"

"Get over the mountain range," Blader said with a shrug. "Honestly, I don't have much of one. Just keep moving, and keep breathing."

Skalfi laughed. "Same."

There was a slight awkwardness between the two friends. The last time Blader had spoken to Skalfi had been when she'd told him about her father, and the revelation had seemed to alter things slightly. He wasn't sure how to fix that, just knew that it was there. He thought Skalfi noticed it, as well.

"We can follow the river upstream," Skalfi said, gesturing back to the stream she had caught her fish in. "That way, we stay close to both a food and water source."

Blader nodded. "Good idea."

There was silence for a moment before Skalfi sighed and glanced across at him. "Please, don't think you have to have sympathy for me or anything," she said quickly, her words tumbling over each other. "I only told you about my father because I was just so...angry. At the High King's speech. That's it. I'm still the same Skalfi you knew before; I haven't changed just because you know some of my history. So please, don't treat me like everything's different."

Blader shook his head. "I won't, Skalfi."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

They pulled their pieces of fish off the fire and Skalfi inspected them before declaring them good to eat. For a long moment, they were both quiet as they bit into the hot meat, Blader sighing in satisfaction. This is so much better than lichen.

"Wolfsted must be loving being out here," Blader commented in between bites.

Skalfi snorted. "He's probably nowhere near here. The seers most likely dropped him into Vanaheim or somewhere else that's the total opposite of Jotunheim."

Blader laughed and did his best imitation of Wolfsted's voice, mimicking his accent to the best of his ability. "Flowers? Grass? No, no, no, this is all wrong! I need rocks! Ice! How do people live like this?"

Skalfi laughed, a grin stretching across her face. "You didn't hear him on one of the first runs we took around Asgard. He was complaining about the lack of rocks in our path. 'How do you run on firm ground like this, without having to constantly find new footholds? Where's the fun?' He did a great job making the rest of us feel inadequate."

The recruits finished their fish and prepared to continue their trek up the mountain. Blader put the fire out while Skalfi cleaned the tip of the stick she had used to spear the fish, as well as her dagger. Then they both swung their shields and swords over their backs and started upstream.

For most of the day they hiked, maintaining the silence that had fallen between them. Blader marveled at how noisy the mountain could be during the day. Birds called out to each other, little animals scurried somewhere, out of sight, and the wind rustled through what plants there were. It was warmer on the mountain itself than it had been on the ice field and when he brought that up to Skalfi, she just shrugged.

"I'm inclined to think this isn't an exact replica of the Old Cosmos, just a generalized idea. I mean, they can't exactly send us to Jotunheim and stick us in the middle of a snowstorm, can they? We'd just die, without a chance."

When the sun started to set, Blader and Skalfi stopped their trek and began to set up camp. Skalfi built a small fire, using some flint she'd found, and Blader started to scout around for a place to sleep that night. He found a cave nearby, with a small entrance, and stooped to look inside. After waiting for his eyes to adjust, he glanced around and didn't make out any creatures within. For safe measure, he tossed a rock inside and then jumped back. The rock skittered across the cave floor. Nothing came barreling outside to greet him, so he deemed it acceptable.

As Blader headed back towards Skalfi, who was perched by the stream bank with her spear poised for an attack, he placed his weapons and pack down. Glancing up at the slowly sinking sun, he sighed. Nothing had come out to attack them that day, which was, all around, a good thing.

Of course, that was when Blader heard the wolves start howling.

/**/

Day two of the Reenactment! Blader meets up with Skalfi and it looks like wolves are on the horizon. What did you think?

Also warning: don't eat lichen unless you know what you're doing. Blader knows what he's doing (let's hope). There are poisonous types of lichen. Side effects include poisoning. Just don't try it.

Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a vote and a comment!

Skylar Wittenborn