Blader sat at a table alone in the mess tent, a plate of hot food sitting before him, his fingers clenched around a cup of water. His boot tapped on the ground as he watched the entrance, waiting for his friends to join him.

Magni had told him he would call Wolfsted, Skalfi, Sodull, and Vandri there each in turn, to tell them of their new assignment, as well as introduce them to Sig. The remaining six members of the Mjolnir Squad would be handpicked by Magni and Blader would first see his completely assembled team in Domstall, the largest military base on Midgard and their destination.

Fingering his metal tags, the surface cool beneath his skin, Blader thought of his promotion. He was now a skjoldr and a commander, all in one day. He'd only been serving for a year and he'd already been promoted, along with his friends, and was given a commanding position.

I'm a part of the same squad as my father was. I'm the leader, same as he was. And Grandfather helped think this whole thing up?

It's like...othalan. It's handed down to me as a legacy, an inheritance, of sorts.

Othalan referred to a familial inheritance. Einherjar legacies, passed down from generation to generation, were othalan, in a sense. The word, however, had fallen out of usage some time ago, and now only was used to represent commitments or failures, passed down through the descendants.

Reaching down, Blader tapped the file sitting on the bench beside him, partially tucked under his leg. Magni had allowed him to take his father's file to peruse, as he "should know the accomplishments of the original Mjolnir Squad" if he were going to be commanding the second iteration of the elite team.

"Is that what Magni spoke to you about?"

Wolfsted's accented voice broke through Blader's ponderings and he looked up to see his friend slide onto the bench across from him, a plate of food in hand. But like Blader, he ignored the food and leaned forward, eyes pinned on his friend. "Magni said you were our commander, Blader. He spoke to you about Mjolnir?"

Blader nodded. "He did. I agreed. You?"

Wolfsted looked offended. "Of course! It's not many days you get to join a squad designed to take out the opposition's leaders. Also, I believe I am the first Aldrian to reach skjoldr rank, too. Not completely sure on that one, though."

"What do you mean, first Aldrian to reach skjoldr rank?" Blader asked, furrowing his brow. "It's second rank, all it takes is surviving long enough as a skera."

Wolfsted grimaced. "Aldrians don't like the einherjar, to put it simply. Most don't join up to begin with. I was the only one in our class from Aldri, remember?"

"That's right," Blader frowned. "I never thought about it before. You're the only one here."

"My father reckons it's because of Aldri's historical basis," Wolfsted said with a slight shrug. "We were established as an outlaw town in the beginning, so of course none of them were einherjar. And their children were raised with a dislike to the main government. The theory is that the distrust was just passed down, although the majority of us don't have outlaw status, even just as legacies."

He dug into his food and Blader did the same, still glancing at the entrance occasionally for any sign of the rest of his friends. The food was hot and delicious after the battle earlier, working to combat his hunger.

Skalfi arrived, dumping her plate next to Blader and sitting down quietly. "Mjolnir, huh?" she said, glancing over at him.

Blader nodded. "You in?"

"Yes," Skalfi said, although she looked like she had reservations about it. "It may have been just me, but Magni didn't seem pleased I accepted."

"Well, I am," Blader said, fighting the rising anger inside him at the slight against Skalfi, and she gave him a slight grin.

"Still," Skalfi said, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork. "It's odd."

"You'll prove him wrong," Blader said quietly. "I know you will."

Wolfsted set his fork down, glancing from Blader to Skalfi and raising his eyebrows. "I see I'm the second shield again," he commented. "What are you talking about?"

Blader waved his hand dismissively as Skalfi shot a glare at Wolfsted. "Stop with the second shield remarks, Kyll. They're becoming annoying."

Wolfsted grinned at her. "And they're becoming true, too, Vekja!" He gestured to Blader. "See, he doesn't deny it!"

"What? No," Blader said, startled. "I'm just choosing to ignore you."

Wolfsted raised his hands defensively. "Deny it all you want, but we all know I'm right."

This time, both Blader and Skalfi glared at the Aldrian. Ever since the Reenactment a year ago, he had been making comments about the two of them having feelings for each other, which Skalfi hated and which irked Blader. Fortunately, he had yet to say anything in front of Sodull or Vandri, which was the only courtesy he showed them in that department.

"Wolfsted, you're not the second shield," Blader told him. "Will you please stop insisting you are?"

"Please," Skalfi said.

Wolfsted looked from one to the other. "All right, all right. But I warn you, someday, I will get the opportunity to tell you 'I told you so,' and I greatly look forward to that day."

"And what makes you think that?" Skalfi challenged. "Your Aldrian sixth sense?"

Wolfsted didn't get the chance to respond, for then Sodull walked up to the table, stepping over the bench and sitting down next to Wolfsted. "Commander," he greeted Blader, lifting an eyebrow, before gesturing to Wolfsted and Skalfi. "Am I to assume you two are my teammates in this venture?"

"Yes," Skalfi answered.

"You bet," Wolfsted nodded.

"Good," Sodull said, looking serious. "I was fairly certain Blader would have put in a good word for you but Magni didn't say who he had requested, just said I was a top candidate."

"You were," Blader told him. "Magni told me he wanted you on the squad before I said anything."

"So now we ship out to Domstall?" Sodull asked, looking at Blader. "We prepare to take out Tros and Racarl, right?"

Blader nodded. "We serve under Magni's command but have more liberty than if we remained in the ranks of the einherjar. From what he told me, we'll be given certain missions to carry out, most likely related to the eventual assassination of the sorcerers."

"You're the perfect person to lead this team," Sodull commented, cutting up his piece of meat and taking a bite.

"Why?" Blader queried, glancing up at his friend. Because my father was the previous commander? Because my grandfather apparently came up with the idea for it?

Sodull gestured with his fork as he finished chewing and swallowed. "Because you know Racarl. You were in the same class with him at school, right?"

"Oh, right," Blader said. "Yes, I was."

"It's a day for classmates," Wolfsted commented. "You and Racarl, Vandri and that Teisl Andask.... We'll get them. Sorcery loses to good old swordplay in the end."

"Not necessarily," Skalfi pointed out. "A sword doesn't just trump magic. It's about being clever, about outthinking the thinker. You got to be smarter, not just faster. There's a reason these sorcerers last as long as they do; it's not due to lack of brains, such as in some warriors."

Sodull nodded as Wolfsted gave Skalfi an injured look. "That's how the gods caught Loki, in the days of past."

Blader listened to his friends' conversation, quietly eating his meal. He had never told them that he hadn't just known Jorid Racarl casually from school, but had been best friends with him ever since they were young, before he really remembered much else. Jorid had always been there, somewhere in his memory, tagging along with him and Ivan, proposing outlandish schemes, getting small revenge on anyone who antagonized Hilda on the schoolyard. And he had been there at Thor's Bridge in the overturned Transriot, face pale but determined as he stood beside Blader, ready to defend their classmates from certain death.

Perhaps he should have told the others that he knew Jorid much better than they thought, but he didn't see the point. Before, they had been just fighting his armies, finding his handiwork as they arrived a few steps behind Jorid at the scenes where he had used magic to collapse a building, kill a herd of cattle and leave their corpses wet with blood, or where his magic took lives, leaving orphans and newly made widowers. They hadn't actually had a confrontation with either him or his master, Domar Tros, yet. They always seemed to be one step ahead of the einherjar.

But now, it looked like they would be chasing the head of the snake instead of following its tail.

"Hey," Vandri said, interrupting Blader's thoughts as she walked up to their table. "Did Magni talk to you –?"

"About Mjolnir?" the others chorused, grinning.

"Yes, he did," Sodull confirmed as Vandri sat next to him. "All of us joined. You?"

"Yes, of course," Vandri said. "He told me we ship out to Domstall tomorrow?"

Blader nodded. "Yes, where we will meet the rest of our teammates."

"I hope they're good," Wolfsted said.

"I don't think Magni would choose any less than good," Sodull said, lifting an eyebrow at him. He sighed. "If Erik was still here, he'd be with us."

The others fell silent, thinking of Erik, their fallen comrade, Sodull's best friend. He had died in the Reenactment, giving his life to save Vandri. But the trials being faulty, Erik's honor and willingness to die for a friend meant nothing when it came to his life, and he died within the Reenactment. Posthumously, he had been elevated to the rank of skera, as a testament to his bravery.

Erik Kjoll had been one of the bravest einherjar Blader had ever had the honor of serving with.

"Well, here's to taking out Racarl and Tros," Wolfsted said eventually, lifting his cup of water. Blader, Sodull, Skalfi, and Vandri all lifted their own cups and knocked them against each other's, echoing the vow as water sloshed down the sides of the cups.

"To taking out the sorcerers!"

The einherjar took large gulps of their water, exchanging grim smiles as they set down the cups and finished their meal. Tomorrow they shipped out to Domstall to complete some training and meet the rest of their team.

From there, they would be hunting down Domar Tros and Jorid Racarl.

[----]

That night, Blader waited with bated breath until he heard steady breathing coming from his bunkmates until he sat up, throwing aside his blankets, and quietly headed over for the corner where a small crate held a couple of candles and their washbowl, his father's file gripped tightly in his hand.

Kneeling down by the crate, Blader picked up the matches and lit the candles, blinking as the sputtering flame lit up the dark tent. He glanced over his shoulder at the still forms of Wolfsted and Sodull, lying under their blankets, and felt a pang at seeing the empty space by the far wall, where Bjarni Holsston had bunked before he had died in battle, several days before. He may not have been the closest of friends with the other three, but he had been a good-natured kid, always ready with some sort of humorous quip until the rekkr blast had ripped apart his chest and left him bloody and with a blank stare.

Blader turned back to the candlelight, settling the file on the edge of the crate and flipping it open carefully. Karl Thrym's grim face stared up at him again and Blader felt another pang, this time for his family. How long had it been since he had seen them? It felt like ages; it had been almost a year. He had been granted leave after completing final training at Vigrid, right before his assignment to Magni's forces, which had been focused on the mid-level world of Svartalfheim.

I wonder how everyone is doing? I'm missing so much of their lives.

It was harvest time again – Ivan and Karl would be busy gathering in the crops, Hilda most likely taking Blader's position helping them. Freyja would be aiding Gunil in the kitchen, enjoying the last remaining days before her second year of primary school started up. Hilda would be entering her last year of secondary school and her internship with the local weaver would be taking up all the free time not dedicated to chores and schoolwork. His parents would be happy to just have another good harvest and be ready to face the winter.

And Ivan...Ivan would be just going through the routine, gathering in the harvest like he would be doing it for the rest of his life, which was very likely. He had given up his best chance at a better life so Blader could finish school, since their father had needed more help on the farm and needed one of the boys to help him full time, since they couldn't afford a hired laborer. Ivan might even be stuck on the farm for the rest of his life, for Blader was sure Karl and Gunil would leave him the farm. Blader had the einherjar, Hilda was doing well in her weaving internship, and Freyja – well, Freyja didn't seem to be the type of girl to stay on the farm. She loved the flowers, but the crops...not so much.

Blader flipped through the file, looking for the records of the Mjolnir Squad. It took a couple minutes before he found the first page detailing his father's selection for the squad by Magni.

Karl Thrym is a good, honorable einherjar, a handwritten note said. Like father, like son. He's the best possible choice to lead the Mjolnir Squad.

A list of the eleven original einherjar and the Valkyrie liaison took up the second page. Blader was prepared to skip through to the battle reports, but a name near the top of the page caught his attention.

Next to Karl Thrym's name, which was marked as commander, was the name for the Valkyrie liaison. Blader's eyes widened as he read the single name.

Eirnn.

Eirnn. She was the head of the Valkyries stationed at Njordesden, a hard woman who most people of the town resented. On top of that, she was Loqé's aunt – her sister, Saga, had Fallen, breaking her oath to Asgard when she fell in love with Dyr Gunar, the terrorist. He was Loqé's father.

Eirnn was the Valkyrie assigned to the original Mjolnir Squad?

"Blader, what are you doing?"

Wolfsted's voice broke the quiet and Blader started, knocking the file off the crate. Twisting, he glanced at the Aldrian, who was propped up on his elbow, looking at him.

"Thinking," Blader said evasively, not wanting to mention his father's file.

"Can you think with the light off, then?" Wolfsted requested, glowering at him.

"Don't you trust us, Blader?" Sodull asked suddenly, sitting up. Like Wolfsted, he did not seem to have just woken up. "I hope you do, since you chose us to be on Mjolnir with you." He nodded toward the file on the floor. "We both know you're not just thinking. What's in the file?"

Blader picked up the file, tapping the papers back into shape. He glanced at Sodull and Wolfsted, who were both still watching him, and sighed. "I do trust you two. But this file was my father's – he was the original commander of Mjolnir. I just wanted to review it."

"Your father was the first commander?" Sodull asked. "He was Mjolnir?"

Blader nodded.

"Huh," Sodull said, looking reflective. "I never knew that. To be honest, I never knew who was on the original squad, period."

"Me, neither," Wolfsted added. "Other than Blader's father, though, it's probably just random names that don't mean anything. What are the odds we'd know someone else on the squad, or at least know of someone else?"

Blader thought of Eirnn's name and smiled grimly to himself. He knew two out of twelve names. "I didn't even know until after the Reenactment," he said with a shrug. "I'd heard stories about the Mjolnir Squad before then, but didn't find out about my father until later. And I only found out today he had been the commander."

"Hurry up with your reviewing," Wolfsted requested, drawing his blankets back over himself. "We've got a lot of traveling to do tomorrow and I'd like to be rested for it."

Sodull nodded and laid back down as Blader opened the folder and headed back to the page naming the members of the squad. Wolfsted was probably right about the previous members of the squad, but he would scan the names anyway. It couldn't hurt to know.

Kelda Framan...Vinber Dotturson...Saell Hardraed...Myrkva Stundi...Vaskr Lesa...Selja Gipt...Miskun Nari...Jokull Gladr...Othorjadom Vekja...Skor Hemingr....Wait. What?

Blader traced the names back with his finger until he found the name he had recognized. He couldn't believe it. Turns out he knew three of the twelve names.

Othorjadom Vekja, Son.

Skalfi's father had been part of the Mjolnir Squad.