"I will join the einherjar."

Blader's words dropped off into silence as he stood in Sigrif's office. The principal just looked at him for a moment, his expression unreadable except for the shadow of concern in his eyes.

"Are you sure this is your final decision?" he asked, watching Blader closely.

"I'm sure."

Sigrif turned to his screen, tapping a few keys before looking back at Blader. "I have already written a reference letter for you. You may collect it from my secretary. Take it to the einherjar recruitment office and present it to the recruiter Valkyrie stationed there."

Blader nodded. "Thank you, sir, for this opportunity."

Sigrif stood up and came around from behind his desk. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Thrym. You had potential. At least this way you can find your path without being hindered by the shame of having been expelled. There will be no mention of this to anyone, no known record. I notified your parents myself so even my secretary isn't aware of this."

Blader walked out of the inner office, collected his letter from the secretary, and strode out into the hall. Purposefully, he stopped by his locker, ignoring the morning crowd waiting for their classes to begin, and cleaned everything out of the locker, slipping the few things within into his screen case folder before turning to leave.

The hallway was filled with people, but they weren't bustling back and forth to class like he had first thought, no longer laughing and shouting over the noise of the crowd. No, they were all simply standing there, lined up on either side of the corridor so a clear path led to the door.

Everyone's eyes were locked on Blader.

Word must have spread fast; exactly what word, Blader didn't know. And he didn't feel like waiting around to see.

I'm done with this place, for good or for ill.

Walking firmly through the hallway, Blader ignored everyone's silent gazes, holding his head high. Njordesden hadn't had an einherjar enlist in eight years, and to have a classmate leave school to do so? Especially one of those who had been present that fateful day at Thor's Bridge? A truly monumental moment.

About halfway towards the exit stood Jorid, the skin near his eye a beautiful shade of blue and black. Blader resisted the urge to grin at the kid's injury, despite their once-friendship.

"So you'd thought you'd become a soldier, did you now?" Jorid stated, his eyes hard.

Blader didn't answer, just continued walking. But when he saw Hilda, standing closest to the door, his step faltered, just the smallest bit.

Hilda was giving him a look, a mix of sadness, uncertainty, and fear. Her whole stance was full of tension, and she pressed up against the wall by the door, hands behind her back.

"Blader," she said, her voice low. "Are you really going to enlist?"

Blader stopped, looking down at Hilda. "Yes," he said. "I am."

Hilda didn't say anything as Blader walked out of the school, just watched him leave with that expression still upon her face. But he didn't look back as he headed for the Transriot.

[----]

Blader felt strange as the Transriot pulled up at the stop closest to the einherjar recruitment office. It didn't feel real, leaving the school in the early morning to come into the city of Njordesden. It just didn't feel right.

Jumping off the Transriot, Blader headed down the walkway towards the recruitment office. It was clear to see how Njordesden thought of their local Valkyrie by the placement of her office: tucked away under the second platform in the corner of the low section, the worst area in the city. After riots had destroyed the first building, burning it to the ground, and the governor had reclaimed the land "for the community," the office had been reassigned down here. It was the only Valkyrie facility the governor had any authority over and he had not been afraid to use his power to relocate the recruitment office.

Spray-painted runes littered the outside of the office building, spelling out slurs and taunts against the Valkyrie order. A jotun skull, spears jutting through the eye cavities, had been drawn out in intricate detail over the doorway in vibrant red paint.

Blader was almost tempted to leave, but he took a deep breath and tapped the door sensor. For a moment, he just stood there, glancing around him. A couple figures hulked in the darkness nearby and Blader drew himself up to his full height. At six foot three and with well-muscled arms, legs, and chest from his years of farming, he wasn't someone to mess with.

Still, people could be desperate. And they certainly hated the Valkyries enough to do something foolish.

The door slid open, revealing a young woman several inches shorter than Blader. Her brown hair was drawn back into a rather neat braid falling halfway down her back, several flyaway strands framing her face. Steel grey eyes studied him suspiciously as a calloused hand moved to the sword on her belt.

Dressed in a close-fitting, single piece, shimmery grey tunic, her black leggings were tucked into half cut silver boots. Her short sword hung from one side of her belt, a single blade axe on the other. A small leather shield hung from her shoulders.

"Yes?" she queried, eyes narrowed as if Blader was a target she needed to kill or at least maim seriously.

"My name is Blader Thrym," he said. "I'm here to enlist with the einherjar." He pulled his letter out of his pocket. "I have a reference letter from Principal Sigrif of Njordesden Education?"

The girl, the Valkyrie, stepped aside, gesturing for Blader to enter. He did, glancing around as he did so.

The office was small and a bit rundown. A desk sat in the corner, clean and empty of papers or trinkets. Only a small monitor perched there, looking out of place in the dim lighting. A painting of Yggdrasil occupied the wall across from her desk and in the back of the office, there was a small machine beside a closed door leading into another room.

The Valkyrie slid around him and took her seat behind the desk, glancing up at him suspiciously. A dusty name plate on her desk caught Blader's eye as he turned to face her. Loqé was engraved on the plate, silver letters against the dull bronze background.

"You're Loqé?" he asked, taking a seat in the old chair before her desk.

The Valkyrie pursed her lips, looking momentarily annoyed. "It's pronounced La-kay," she said, emphasizing the last syllable. "Not Lo-key. But my title is Recruiter."

An important distinction, Blader thought, wondering why anyone would ever give their child any name closely resembling that of the infamous Loki. "I'm sorry, Recruiter Loqé," he said, switching his pronunciation to the correct one. "I meant no disrespect."

Loqé tilted her head in acknowledgement. "So, Blader Thrym, you're here to enlist in the einherjar?"

Blader nodded. "Yes, I am."

"This is not a trick?"

"No, of course not."

"Okay, then." Loqé fumbled around in a drawer for a moment, riffling through papers, before pulling out a folder. She still didn't look like she believed him completely and he noticed one of her hands was still on her belt. "Before I have you fill out the forms, I need you to read this and understand it." She pushed the folder in front of him. "It's part of the process. I have to ensure you know what you're signing up for."

Blader opened the folder, looking at the rules and regulations of the Reenactment. By enlisting, he vowed to serve in the einherjar for at least ten years on whatever assignments he was given. After that, he could reapply for another five years at a time. After initial training and preparation, supervised by the Valkyrie overseeing his enlistment – Loqé, in his case – he would report to the plain of Vigrid to receive further training and participate in the Reenactment, in which there was a great possibility of death.

"You understand everything that is written there?" Loqé asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," Blader answered. "I understand I will serve for at least ten years and will prove my worthiness as an einherjar by participating in the Reenactment."

Loqé nodded, satisfied. "All right, good. Here are the forms, Blader Thrym." She flicked a screen up into the air and shoved it towards him. "If you could just fill them out, I will prepare a probationary file for you."

The office was quiet for about half an hour as Blader went through the forms, filling in all the questions. Loqé worked on another screen, ever so often casting a scrutinizing glance Blader's way. The suspicion in her eyes had lessened but wasn't entirely gone.

When Blader finished and clicked submit, Loqé reviewed the forms on her screen and nodded. "All right, thank you, Blader Thrym. Your papers will be processed, and I will get back to you on when your assessment is scheduled." Loqé stood up from her desk and headed to a machine in the back of her office. "Just allow me a second to engrave your tag."

Blader rose and looked around the office. His gaze was caught by the large painting hanging on the wall across from her desk. The picture portrayed Yggdrasil, the World Tree that connected the Nine Worlds, reborn from the fire of Ragnarok. Spreading out from the tree was Jotunheim, Midgard, and Asgard, represented by the mountains in the former, the rivers and plains of the other, and the walls of the gods' city for the latter. Crossing his arms, Blader let his eyes drift over the painting, noticing the image of the High King, standing before Yggdrasil with one foot on Jotunheim and one on Asgard, balancing over Midgard. The other worlds were not represented in the painting.

"High King Baldor," Loqé murmured behind him, her eyes also on the painting. "The bridge of peace between enemies."

Blader looked back at the Valkyrie, who had a grave expression on her face as she regarded the image. Then she tilted her head at him and handed him a thin metal plate, engraved with B. Thrym, 97118, and the rune signifying the einherjar coupled with the one for probation.

"Your probation tag," she stated. "Once you pass your test, you will be issued your Ragnarok tag."

The chain the tag was attached to was thin, made up of tiny square links. Blader slipped the chain over his head, tucking the tag under the neckline of his tunic.

"While you are waiting to be called back," Loqé told him. "You should prepare for the assessment. I have a file of various exercises and a routine you can adopt to ready yourself." She handed him a thin file.

"You still use paper," Blader remarked in surprise as he took the file, flipping through the contents. Loqé shrugged, her cheeks reddening slightly.

"Njordesden isn't exactly fond of Valkyries," Loqé said, turning away from the painting. There was a note of resentment in her voice. "We don't have recruits come through here anymore."

"Because of what happened at Thor's Bridge."

Loqé glanced back at him, her expression hardening. "That wasn't our fault."

Blader folded his arms. "People did die, though."

Loqé's eyes were ice. "That was not the fault of the Valkyries. We were trying to prevent the deaths."

Blader met her eyes. "You can understand why others would be wary of you, however."

The Valkyrie didn't seem to want to admit he had a point, he could tell by her eyes. There was silence, then she turned away. "You are dismissed, Blader Thrym. I will be checking up on your progress, and will notify you when your assessment is scheduled."

Blader left the office, walking back to the Transriot stop. As he rode back to his farm, all he could think about was the coming days of preparation. The tag he now wore spoke of finality, his name engraved there permanently.

You are einherjar. You will always be einherjar. You will either become one of us or die. Your life belongs to the High King now.

Blader rubbed the tag with his finger through the fabric of his tunic as the Transriot halted at his stop. He stepped off the transport and began the walk back to the farm. Steeling himself for the reception he would receive from his family, he turned onto his family's property and started for the house.

The rag shepherds raced up to him, barking excitedly and wagging their tails. Blader couldn't help but grin as he scratched their ears, wading through the pack. But his smile faded as he saw his mother standing on the front step, staring out at him.

"You did it," she stated as he walked up to her.

Blader nodded. "Yes, I did."

Her eyes wandered to the chain around his neck, knowing the tag was there despite not being able to see it. "The einherjar own you now, don't they?"

"Yes, I suppose they do."

"Are you sure about this, Blader?" His mother's voice cracked. "You could die, doing all the crazy things the High King would have you do."

"I know," Blader said. "And I'm sure. I couldn't let them expel me, I had to make a choice. At least I chose enlistment. At least I had the last word there."

"Who has the last word when you return home in pieces?" his mother whispered. "We wouldn't have thought any less of you, Blader. You are our son. There is nothing you can do to make me think less of you."

"Perhaps not," Blader shrugged, knowing his father might have. "But I would have. And I couldn't let my deeds mar the Thrym's honor. This way, I add to it, instead of detracting from it. And...." His voice trailed off. Stopping Thor's Bridge from happening again was harder to express to his mother than it had been to tell Ivan.

"I suppose the Valkyrie gave you a regimen to follow?" Gunil asked, her tone icy on the word Valkyrie. Loqé was certainly right about the reception Valkyries received in Njordesden. But it was a fair reaction, after the killings on Thor's Bridge.

Blader himself harbored reserve to the Valkyries due to that.

"She did," Blader nodded. "Should I start on my chores?"

Gunil Thrym shook her head. "No. Start on your training for your einherjar assessment. I want to see you back here again after your ridiculous initiation is over." She turned and headed back inside just as Freyja came around from the garden, clutching several weeds in her dirty hands. The blue flowers stemming from the weeds hadn't seemed to notice their impending death yet, and still were bright and lively, their colors cheerful. Particles of dirt fell from the root balls of the weeds as she moved, and the smudge of dirt on her nose made her sorrowful expression sort of comical, but Blader didn't laugh.

"You're going to be a soldier?" she asked tearfully.

Blader hurried up to Freyja and gently grasped her arms, looking down at her. "Yes, Freyja, I am," he answered in his best calm voice. "But everything's going to be okay."

Freyja stared up at him, tears tracing their way down her cheeks. "But you're going to die!"

"I am not going to die," Blader promised her. "Papa fought, and he didn't die. I'm going to survive, and I'll come back and see you again."

Freyja dropped the weeds and flung herself at Blader, wrapping her arms around him. As she sobbed, he returned her hug and glanced down to see her stepping on the flowers, the blossoms suddenly realizing their lifeline had been pulled and death was imminent. Although still full of color, their heads were crushed under Freyja's foot.

/**/

Blader's officially einherjar now! (Well...he's officially enlisted, anyway.)

What did you think? Of the Valkyries, of the mentions of Thor's Bridge (whatever that is...:), of the coming assessment? Also, what do you think of the characters so far, of the Thrym family?

Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed! Leave a vote or comment! Also, if you have any constructive criticism for what I can improve in the writing of Einherjar, please let me know!

Skylar Wittenborn