"Blader!"

Freyja's ecstatic shout reached Blader's ears as he carefully guided Vaka down to the ground before the house, following Loqé's lead. The little girl clapped her hands excitedly, her eyes wide, as Loqé and Blader dismounted from Haraun and Vaka.

"They're so pretty," Freyja breathed as Hilda came out of the garden, followed by Gunil.

"How did you do?" Hilda asked in a low voice.

"I passed," Blader said. "I'm officially a recruit."

Hilda pressed her lips together, nodding. "Good." Her voice was unnaturally small but she put on a brave face.

"I ship out tomorrow morning," Blader said. "For Vigrid."

Freyja cocked her head. "Vigrid?"

"Asgard," Hilda told her. "It's in Asgard."

Freyja's eyes lit up. "Asgard? You're going there?" Then she suddenly seemed to remember why Blader was going there and her face fell. "As einherjar?"

Blader nodded and turned to Loqé. "Is it okay if Freyja sits on one of the horses?" he asked in a low tone. He could tell Freyja was about to cry and wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. Today was going to be hard enough as it was.

Loqé nodded, looking very uncomfortable. "Yes, she can sit on Haraun."

"Freyja," Blader called. "Do you want to sit on Haraun, the Valkyrie's horse?" He glanced up at his mother for permission and she nodded quickly. She, too, saw Freyja was close to tears over Blader leaving.

"Okay," Freyja said, hurrying over to Blader, who lifted her up and placed her in Haraun's saddle. The horse stretched her wings out as Freyja gripped her mane, looking happier as well as a little nervous.

"You're welcome to stay, Valkyrie," Gunil said to Loqé.

"Thank you, but I have some business I must attend to before tomorrow," Loqé said. There was a look in her eyes, a longing, like she wanted to stay with all her heart but knew she couldn't.

"We won't hold you then," Blader said, reaching up and gently pulling Freyja off Haraun's back. "Anything specific, besides my weapons, that I should pack?"

Loqé pursed her lips. "Mostly necessities. Clothes and whatnot." She swung up onto Haraun's back. "I'll see you tomorrow." Glancing over at Vaka, she whistled. "Vaka, follow!"

The two horses sprang into the air, their wings reaching out as they left the earth behind. Freyja breathed out in wonder as she watched them fly away, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

"I suppose you'd better pack, Blader," Gunil said. "Hilda, Freyja, back to the garden. Those seeds won't plant themselves."

"I forgot," Freyja said, still staring up into the sky. "I forgot I had a flower I'd picked for the Valkyrie, for her to put in her hair."

"Tell you what, Freyja," Blader said, kneeling down in front of her. "I'll take the flower to her tomorrow, okay?"

Freyja nodded, another tear coursing down her cheek as she offered him the blue flower. "Okay. Tell her she has to put it in her hair."

"I will," Blader said, attempting a smile but finding it harder than he had expected, what with Freyja's stoic effort to hold back her tears. "I promise."

[----]

It didn't take Blader long for him to pack his necessary belongings and set them beside his sword and shield at the end of his bed. Then he headed outside, wanting to clear his head before helping Hilda with the chores.

Fjorsen came quickly when he whistled for the horse, and seemed curious as to why Blader was bringing him into the barn so soon, and without Sig. He wasn't as high strung today, and Blader quickly saddled and bridled him, leading him out of the barn and mounting up.

"Okay, boy," he murmured. "Let's go for a ride."

Galloping over the pastureland, the wind in his hair, Blader felt some of the tension that had been accumulating since returning home leave his muscles. He passed by the herd of cattle, which looked up at him strangely as he flew by them.

Blader and Fjorsen looped around the Thrym farm, purposely avoiding the creek and the wolf carcasses. He knew no one would come to move them until Manidagr, until after the day of rebirth.

By the time Blader returned to the barn, Hilda was saddling Sig to go round up the cattle. She looked surprised to see him cantering up to the barn. "I wondered where Fjorsen was," she said.

"Just took him for a ride," Blader said, patting the horse's shoulder. "Ready to get the cattle?"

Hilda nodded, slipping the bit in between Sig's teeth. "Blader? I'm sorry about what I said, yesterday."

"I know," Blader said quietly.

"You go to Vigrid," she said, closing her eyes as she forced the words out. "And you go through the Reenactment, and you survive. And come home."

Blader nodded. "I will, Hilda."

She looked up at him. "Good." She turned back to Sig. "Good."

[----]

Dinner was a mostly silent affair. Gunil had made Blader's favorite dish of baked fish and onions but he could hardly taste it.

Karl and Ivan had both congratulated Blader on hearing of his success. "I'm proud of you, son," Karl had told him. "You will make your grandfather proud."

As supper ended, Blader helped with the cleanup, drying the dishes as Hilda washed them. "Blader, you don't have to help," Gunil said, looking over from where she was packaging up the food for later.

"I want to," Blader responded.

When the chores were completed, Blader headed into the living room where Ivan and Karl were halfheartedly watching the news.

"Today, a legacy continues as Blader Thrym, the grandson of legendary einherjar General Aetlun Thrym, is accepted as an einherjar recruit."

"That's not local, is it?" Blader asked.

Ivan glanced over at him. "No, that's national. The local news didn't have anything nice to say about you."

Blader snorted. "I figured."

Karl looked up at him. "You ready for Vigrid?"

Blader nodded. "I'm all packed. I'll be out of here by five in the morning."

"The Transriots don't run that early," Ivan pointed out. "We can take the horses into Njordesden. I'll go with you."

"Thanks," Blader said. "Papa, what can I expect at Vigrid?"

Karl looked thoughtful. "Vigrid is a warrior's settlement, outside the walls of Asgard's city. You'll be put through some training exercises to prepare you for the Reenactment. You'll also be able to meet all the other einherjar recruits."

The rest of the evening passed in alternation between silence and talk of other subjects. The plowing and seeding was going well; the garden was near finished; all of the stock was healthy. Classes were almost finished and Blader felt a fleeting sense of regret that he didn't get to graduate as he should have done. But he was surprised to find himself glad he had been guided onto the path of the einherjar. Fighting came more naturally to him than he had thought it would, and he was proud to be carrying on a legacy that most likely would never have been fulfilled had he not chosen it.

This is the right path. I chose correctly.

Blader knew he should turn in early, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the family gathering, simply talking and viewing a show that most of them ignored. Freyja was allowed to stay up later than normal. No one wanted to break the group, for fear they may never have it again.

Finally, Blader stood. "I'm going to turn in, so I can get my early start tomorrow. I love you all, and I will...." The words stuck in his throat and he swallowed. "And I will make you all proud."

"We know," Gunil said softly. "You have always made us proud, Blader Aetlun Thrym, and you will continue to do so, we know that."

"You'll do it," Hilda said. "Just like you've always done. You'll beat the Reenactment, you'll be einherjar."

"You will not die," Freyja pronounced, her voice trembling. "You can't die, Blader, because you have to come home to see the flowers this summer. They'll be pretty."

"I know you're going to be einherjar," Ivan said. "It's in your blood. I saw you fight those wolves. You've got whatever Grandfather had, to make him that good."

"Ivan is right," Karl said. "There are warriors and then there are true einherjar, and you are true einherjar. We believe in you, son."

Rada, lying on her little bed near the wall where she was resting, thumped her tail against the floor as if in agreement with the family.

"Thank you," Blader said, a lump in his throat. "Thank you all. I'll – I'll miss you, and I love you, and I will see you again. So I say goodbye, but only for now. Because I'll see you again." He looked at Freyja. "And the flowers."

Freyja managed a smile, even though she was crying.

[----]

Sleep eluded Blader that night, so he spent long hours alternating between staring at the ceiling or closing his eyes in the hope that sleep would sudden appear. What little sleep he had was fitful and clouded with dreams.

In one, Jorid was taunting him over dying in the Reenactment. "I knew you couldn't do it, I just knew it. You never had it in you to be einherjar, Blader, and we all knew it. Sigrif was just messing with you, that damn Valkyrie was just messing with you, everyone was. We all knew you were going to die."

Then, after more staring at the ceiling and turning over, sleep brought another dream; but this time it was Freyja, standing in the flower fields, holding a bouquet in her hands.

"I told you to come home," she sobbed. "Why didn't you ever come home?"

Blader tried to tell her he was there, tried to speak to her, but the words wouldn't come. It was like he was a ghost.

One by one, Freyja pulled flowers from the bouquet and crumpled them in her hands, the wilted petals and stems falling to the ground and causing spots of blackness to form in the field, the nearby flowers decaying from their touch.

Blader tried to scream her name, tried to make Freyja stop, but the words wouldn't come and she kept destroying the flowers, tossing the crushed heads further and further away from her, spreading the decay until she was completely surrounded by it, her blonde hair the only spot of color in the field.

He woke up sweating after that dream, bolt upright, and it took a while before his heart rate settled down enough for him to lie down again.

The last fit of sleeping brought the third dream. The wolf carcasses near the creek had opened their eyes, blood staining their pupils. "Blader Thrym," they intoned in perfect synchronicity, their voices grating and unnatural as blood gushed out of their mouths. "We wish you the best of luck in the Reenactment. We hope we destroy you. We hope you die painfully. We hope you aren't jealous in giving up your blood for us to drink."

When the clock finally dinged softly, Blader had never felt more relieved. He and Ivan rose, made their beds, and dressed, preparing for the early ride. They then headed out of their room and walked into the kitchen, following the path of soft light emanating through the doorway.

Gunil glanced up at her two sons as they entered, giving them a small smile. "Morning," she said. "I have breakfast for you."

Blader sniffed, his brow wrinkling. "Do I smell bacon?"

"Yes," Gunil said. "I thought we would have some as a treat today, before you go."

Ivan looked hopeful. "Do I get some?"

Gunil shook her head, then smiled when he looked dejected. "I'm joking, Ivan. Of course you can have some."

Blader and Ivan wolfed down the bacon, along with the scrambled eggs and cups of black coffee. Just as they were finishing up, they heard the sound of the front door closing. A moment later, Karl came into the kitchen.

"Fjorsen and Sig are ready," he said. "You two need to get a move on to reach Njordesden in time."

Gunil embraced Blader as he stood. "Take care of yourself, Blader," she said softly. "I love you."

"Love you, too, Mama," Blader responded. His father then gave him a hug and his voice was low when he spoke.

"I'm proud of you."

Stepping out of the kitchen, Blader headed to his room and grabbed his pack and weapons, carefully wrapping Freyja's flower in a clean handkerchief and tucking it into his pocket. He headed back into the living room and took a deep breath, his gaze falling on the portrait of his grandfather.

I'll make you proud, he promised the dead general.

"Wait," Hilda called, coming out of her room with Freyja in tow. The little girl rubbed at her eyes sleepily as Hilda gave Blader a hug. "See you soon," she whispered. "Make sure we see you soon."

"I will," he said, then turned to Freyja. Kneeling down, he gave his youngest sister a hug. "I'll be back to see the flowers before you know it," he told her.

Freyja looked solemn, as solemn as she could when she also looked very tired. "Tell the Valkyrie to put the flower in her hair," she said firmly, as if that was the most important thing in the world.

"I will," he said, giving her a smile. If it was important to her, then it would be his topmost priority. He rose, looking around at the rest of his family. "Goodbye."

"We'll miss you," Hilda called as Blader opened the door.

Blader looked back. "I'll be back, I promise."

Karl and Ivan headed out with Blader to the barn, where the two brothers led their horses outside and mounted up. Blader was surprised, for a moment, to see the horses equipped with wolf-gear, but then remembered the darkness around them. The thicker saddles, designed to protect the horses from an attack as best as possible, as well as the sheaths for swords and stun batons, were rarely used anymore but the Thryms had two leftover from the wolf age.

Blader swung up onto Fjorsen and Ivan onto Sig and, after bidding farewell to Karl, rode off into the early morning, cantering along the path into Njordesden.