Over the next two weeks, Blader spent all day, every day training for his assessment. He ran several miles a day, running through the pastures and the woods surrounding the Thrym farm, jumping over the stream and the multiple downed logs in his way. The solitude of the path he generally chose to run gave him plenty of time to think.

The cows chose to ignore Blader as he ran past them at a steady pace. He had been slowly building up his endurance and his speed over the course of his runs, but they also were now the only time in his day that he had to mull over things, as he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow every night.

One of the many things that he found rising to his mind was the Thor's Bridge incident, and those he had seen die that day while the Valkyries seemed to have taken their time stopping the homicidal group from killing innocents.

The screams...the explosions....

Blader launched himself over a log and landed in stride, picking up his pace.

The blood in the street....

Hilda and Blader had been on the Transriot with the rest of the kids in their classes, returning back to Njordesden Education after a joint field trip. Blader had been sitting with Jorid when the Transriot had shuddered to a stop.

Then there had been the explosion.

Screams rose up as shrapnel whistled through the air. The Transriot, caught in the blast wave, was thrown onto its side, sending its occupants crashing out of their seats, slamming into each other as debris flew through the open windows.

Blader's ears were ringing and he couldn't tell which way was up or whether there were still explosions going on. All he could think about was Hilda. "Hilda!" he screamed. "Where are you?"

No answer.

Blader wished Ivan was there, wished so badly that his brother's class had come on the trip. Ivan would know what to do in this moment. He would tell Blader what to do. He would find Hilda.

But Ivan wasn't there. Blader had to tell himself what to do.

Coughing, Blader pulled himself up, gripping onto the seat in order to do so. He used the sides of the other seats to stand on as he stared around the transport, looking for any sign of his sister. She had been sitting towards the front, he remembered. He had to go up to the front.

Another explosion shook the Transriot and Blader lost his footing, falling between the seats and landing on a couple kids beneath him. They whimpered as they felt his weight but he just resolutely pulled himself back up and decided to crawl towards the front.

And he did.

Yelling came from outside, words such as "warriors," "Valhalla," and "death" striking Blader's ears. But he wasn't listening to them. All of his attention was on finding Hilda.

"Hilda! Hilda, where are you?"

"Blader?"

Hilda's voice was only a couple feet ahead of him and down. Blader hurried forward, crawling as fast as possible, until he reached the set of seats she was in between. Her eyes were wide, frozen in fear as he looked down at her.

"Blader?" she whispered, her voice filled with pain. Two of her friends looked up at him, their eyes so afraid. "Is that you?"

"Yes," Blader answered, relief flooding him. He tried to think of what to do next, now that he had found his sister. Again, he wished for Ivan's clear head and good ideas.

"Blader!"

The voice came from behind him and Blader turned to see Jorid on his hands and knees, shaking but looking determined. "We need to get out of here," he said, his voice small. Jorid Racarl was scared, but not scared enough to lose his wits. "These people...they're going from transport to transport, killing the survivors. They've just started on the one in front of us."

Blader's eyes widened and he glanced around. "What now?"

"I don't know," Jorid whispered. "What do we do?"

Everyone was looking to Blader now. Everyone thought he could do something about this atrocity. Everyone thought he had some sort of power to stop their impending deaths.

The truth? Blader didn't.

But he had to do something. Ivan would, if he was here. But what?

"Stay down!" he hissed. "Everyone, get down in between the seats." He gestured to the row that had become the bottom of the Transriot. "It will provide some sense of cover."

"How are we going to stop them?" Jorid asked.

Ivan would know the answer, Blader thought. He started to crawl to the front of the Transriot. "Hide, Jorid."

Jorid glanced down between the seats, his face white, then shook his head. "I'm coming with you."

Together, the two boys reached the front of the Transriot, watched by everyone beneath them. Blader rooted around the driver's compartment, ignoring the broken glass that stabbed into his hands, as Jorid pulled the unconscious driver over to one of the seats and shoved him in. Finally, Blader found what he was looking for.

A stun baton.

Back in the days when the wolves used to be more daring, Transriot drivers had various weapons with which to defend themselves and their passengers. The lessening of wolf attacks had led to a reduction in the firepower carried, but each driver was still allowed to carry a wolf-grade stun baton in case of emergencies.

Blader seized the weapon and he and Jorid retreated to hide in the alcove created by the upper row of seats. He held the weapon, pointing the activated tip away from him as the passengers of the Transriot held their breath, waiting for the bombers to enter.

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as Blader felt drops of sweat trickle down his face. It started to dawn on him that the attackers would kill him once they came through the door. Even if he managed to stun the first one in, the second would kill him.

This revelation almost seemed to come from the far distance. Blader would have thought he'd be scared, retreating away to hide, but he didn't move. Neither did Jorid.

Cries filled the air and Blader glanced up through the window above his head. Through the gap, he saw a winged horse pass overhead, its dark wings signifying a Valkyrie mount.

More screams, more cries.

It was a long while later before someone entered the Transriot, garbed in the swan white of a Valkyrie. The woman, about mid-forties with a touch of silver in the braids above her ears, held out a hand to Blader.

"Come, child, you are safe now."

Lowering his stun baton, Blader gestured Jorid forward. "I don't leave until I have Hilda," he told her.

The woman frowned, clearly not used to being disobeyed by a young boy. "I will ensure you have Hilda back, young one, if you come with me now."

Would Ivan do this? Blader wondered. Would he leave without Hilda?

Blader didn't have much of a choice. He had always been taught to respect the Valkyries, the peacekeepers of the Nine Worlds, and so he stepped forward, leaving the Transriot.

The air was filled with smoke from the explosions, and sprays of blood stained the pavement. Crumpled bodies were spread across the bridge amid the debris, broken and twisted at odd angles that Blader found hard to reconcile to how humans were supposed to look. Glassy stares regarded the sky above, mouths hung agape, and burns rippled across skin. Some of the debris looked so out of place it took many times of passing the irregular shaped objects, dripping with blood, for Blader to realize they were chunks of human flesh.

Behind him, Jorid gasped as the Valkyrie turned them over to another one before climbing into the Transriot. The second Valkyrie firmly grasped the two boys' arms and led them away from the transport.

"My sister –" Blader attempted to protest, but the woman didn't seem to care. She just led them over to where other survivors were huddled, blankets over their shoulders and blood decorating their faces.

Blankets were wrapped around Blader's and Jorid's shoulders and the boys were told to sit and remain until they were called for. Reluctantly, Blader sat, still gripping the stun baton tightly. No one had tried to take it from him.

No one said a word to the two of them. Everyone was too shocked to notice them. A Valkyrie with a medic's rune implanted in her forehead dropped to her knees beside the boys and began to dab at their faces, removing the stun baton from Blader's hands. Until now, Blader hadn't noticed the cut over his ear, crusted now with dried blood, or the scrapes on his hands from the broken glass in the driver's compartment. They stung as the medic carefully cleaned away the blood before murmuring the runic incantations that would assist in the healing.

Blader was transfixed by the soft glow of the rune in her forehead as she summoned her magic.

Hours passed and the sun set as Blader continued to sit there. Every Valkyrie that passed by he asked about Hilda, asking where his sister was. No one seemed to have an answer for him, no one seemed to care. It wasn't until the sun had completely set, darkness surrounding the aura cast by the bridge's lights, that a Valkyrie came and took Blader, leading him out of the sectioned off area of carnage on the bridge. His parents stood there, in a row with many other people, their faces stricken. His mother had obviously been crying and his father looked like he was ready to murder the Valkyrie standing there beside them, an expression rarely seen on his calm, serious features.

"Blader!" Gunil screamed as soon as she saw him. She darted forward, his father right behind her, and dropped to her knees, hugging him to her so hard Blader couldn't breathe.

His father stared down at his son like he had just come back from the dead, his eyes wide. Then he whirled upon the Valkyrie. "Where's my daughter? Where's Hilda?"

"They won't tell me!" Blader cried, breaking away from his mother's embrace. "I keep asking and no one will tell me!"

"Your daughter's name?" the Valkyrie inquired.

"Hilda Thrym," Karl snarled. "You bring me my daughter or I will –"

The Valkyrie turned and left before Blader's father could finish his threat. It took about half an hour for the Valkyrie to return, with Hilda in tow. The little girl was crying, a blanket hanging from her shoulders, and bruises colored the side of her face. There was blood in her hair, and her fingers were bandaged.

"Hilda!" Gunil shrieked, racing forward to grab her daughter. "Oh, Hilda, my darling, you're safe, you're safe."

The Valkyrie looked to Karl. "Is that all?"

Karl's eyes were dark with anger. "Yes," he forced through gritted teeth. "That is all."

The shade under the trees was pleasant as Blader reached the stream. He vaulted over one of the narrower areas along its banks and kept running.

The opinions of Njordesden toward the Valkyries had changed after Thor's Bridge. The Valkyries had arrived much later than normal response time had predicted, and when it was leaked that the Valkyries had known about the threat of the "Valhallans," the name of the bomber group, long before the bridge attack, there had been outrage. The Valkyries' cool manner when dealing with the families of those injured or killing in the bombing had alienated many as well. It contributed towards much of Blader's own reserve towards Valkyries, although he didn't blame Loqé for the attack. She was too young to have had any part in it.

But the Valkyrie order took the blame for the attack in Njordesden, recruitment for the einherjar dropped, and the local branch suffered a major hit, both in public support and in the eyes of the other regions. Blader didn't remember the last time Njordesden had sent an einherjar to the Reenactment. Definitely not since Thor's Bridge, eight years ago.

Blader was the first in a long time.

[----]

Another part of Blader's new routine included him learning how to use a sword and shield. His father had a pair, from his time in the einherjar before his discharge, and Blader got permission to borrow them to practice with. On weekends, when Ivan had some free time, the two would spar together, Ivan using an old sword and shield that had belonged to their grandfather.

They would fight down under the trees, where they weren't clearly visible from the house. Even though everyone in the Thrym household was well aware of Blader's training, he didn't like to remind them of it.

Ivan was very supportive of Blader's decision and their sparring sessions were simply examples of that. The brothers both learned to wield the weapons handed down to them from their father and grandfather, and would fight for hours on Soldagr, the day of rebirth. By the end of the day, they would be drenched in sweat and appreciative of a dip in the deeper pools of the stream before heading back to the house. They also practiced hand to hand combat, and their mother began to complain of the bruises they came home with from all the kicks and punches.

Besides his running and sparring, Blader did numerous other exercises to get himself in top shape for the assessment. He also ran through drills with his sword alone, testing out different maneuvers. It was during one of these practice bouts that he saw Jorid walking into the clearing.

"Well, well, well," he said. "The sayings are true, then. Blader Thrym is going to be an einherjar."

Blader lowered his sword and turned, tugging at his light tunic. It was dripping in sweat, glued to his skin, and his dark hair stuck to his forehead. Drawing a hand across his face, he wiped the moisture off his forehead and narrowed his eyes at Jorid.

"Why are you here?"

"Haven't seen you in a while," Jorid answered. The bruising on his skin from Blader's punch was almost completely gone. Other than that, his friend looked like the same, with the exception of a fresh scar on his forearm, joining the others that had gathered there over the past three months.

Blader stood, waiting.

"So, you've really enlisted?" Jorid asked. His brow was furrowed, as if he had a hard time understanding this. "You're really einherjar now?"

Blader nodded. "Yes, I've really enlisted."

"What made you do it?" Jorid queried, and he actually looked confused, like he couldn't understand why Blader would join the einherjar.

The threat of being expelled having been kept quiet, no one else knew the real reason that had driven him to consider becoming einherjar. So far, Blader hadn't had to come up with a reason for why he had enlisted. But now it looked like he'd have to.

"It was time for me to take action," Blader said. "The einherjar is a good path for me."

Jorid looked skeptical. "Yeah, right, like Thor's Bridge didn't offer enough possibility of death." He tilted his head. "How could you even speak to a Valkyrie after living through that?"

Blader sighed. "Not all of them are to blame, Jorid."

Jorid shook his head. "Tell that to my mother. Or, that's what I would say, if she had made it off that bridge."

Blader didn't respond. Jorid's anger against the Valkyries had always been larger than his, and he couldn't blame the kid. His mother had been one of the victims, blown apart by a bomb, her body destroyed and lost forever, nothing left to mourn. Nothing could fix that, no therapy or counseling or any other fireshock treatment.

It had been one of the reasons Blader had put up with Jorid's scheming for so long. Not only had they been friends, a long time ago, but his mother had been violently killed. Blader had always cut him a lot of slack because of that.

Until he had been pushed too far.

Jorid seemed to know that he had shattered something, that last day at school. It was almost as if he was trying to make amends, but didn't know how.

Blader didn't want his amends, he just wanted to practice again.

"I've got more work to do," Blader said. "Thanks for saying hello, Jorid."

Jorid, with a shrug, turned to go and stopped dead. Blader looked up to see Loqé walking towards them.

She wore a dull grey tunic, belted over black leggings tucked into her silver boots. Her hair was parted into a side braid that swung gently as she walked towards the two, her expression set. "Blader Thrym," she called. "Your little sister told me I could find you out here."

Jorid's features shifted into one of outrage. "You," he hissed. "You're responsible for my mother's death."

Loqé stopped, her muscles tensing. "On behalf of the Valkyrie, I apologize." Although the words come slowly, they were firm. She'd had to say them before, perhaps many times.

Spitting on her boots, Jorid turned and stalked off, not sparing a glance back. Blader and Loqé both watched him go before the Valkyrie turned back to him, shifting so she could wipe the tops of her boots off in the grass.

"Your assessment has been scheduled for this coming Baldordagr," Loqé told him, naming the day before Soldagr. "I will expect you to report to my office at eight in the morning, sharp."

Blader nodded. "I will be there, Recruiter Loqé."

"There's no need to use my title in an informal setting. Loqé is fine." She glanced down at the sword in Blader's hand. "How's the training coming along?"

"Fairly well," Blader said. "Been practicing with this."

"Oh, you have?" Loqé said. "Let's see how good you are." The Valkyrie drew her sword and immediately flew at Blader, the blade raised. He brought up his sword just in time to block hers, taking a step back.

Loqé continued to press her attack, whirling as her sword clashed against his. Blader ducked, narrowly avoiding her blade and he swung at her legs. The Valkyrie flipped backwards, letting go of her sword with one hand to balance on the palm of her other hand for a split second before propelling herself up into the air and completing the flip.

Blader's jaw dropped.

He had known vaguely about the mythical powers of the Valkyries, but he had never seen them in action before. As Loqé landed in a crouch, sword stuck out behind her, her eyes bored into Blader. Blader centered his sword at his waist, waiting for Loqé's next attack.

The Valkyrie rose, her sword out to the side. "Come on," she said, lifting an eyebrow almost mockingly. "Attack me."

Blader furrowed his brow but Loqé's eyes only narrowed, glinting with something akin to judgement. "Blader, you have to learn offense as well as defense. Come at me."

Blader moved towards the Valkyrie, bringing his sword up in an overhead swing. Loqé blocked it, knocking his sword down. He whipped his sword back and then forced it forward, making the Valkyrie twist sideways to avoid it , bringing her blade around to smack it away. With a twist, she made the sword fly out of his hands.

Blader stepped back, holding his hands up as Loqé pointed the tip of her sword at him for a moment before lowering it. Silently, she watched him, her expression conflicted, as he went to pick up his sword. "I can help you," she said suddenly. "Train, I mean. Until your assessment, I can work with you on your fighting skills. You're the first recruit since Thor's Bridge, you know. Can't have you embarrass the Njordesden Valkyries any further than...well, you know."

"Aren't you busy?" Blader asked.

Loqé shrugged. "Recruitment isn't what it used to be, so no."

"Okay, then," Blader said, giving Loqé a grin, which she seemed hesitant to return. The corner of her mouth twitched up, her eyes seemed to smile, but it was almost as if she fought the smile and tamped it down.

"I've got to return to the office," she said. "See you tomorrow morning?"

Blader nodded. "See you in the morning."

As Loqé strode away, sheathing her sword, Blader glanced down at his own sword before looking up at the Valkyrie's retreating back.

He didn't like Valkyries. But perhaps he could get used to this one.

/**/

So, that's what happened on Thor's Bridge. What did you think of that? Of the Valkyries, of the bit of backstory you got for Jorid?

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading; remember to leave a vote and comment to let me know what you thought of it!

Skylar Wittenborn