In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt Choose Your Adventure.
Write a story or post with an open ending, and let your readers invent the conclusion.
Eira was almost born with a sword in hand; it was as much a part of her as her hair or eyes. She would have felt as incomplete without it as without her sight or any other senses. It might have been difficult to explain but she was the fifth daughter of a man who had wanted a son; if not an heir, at least a son with whom he could share the love of battle and the desire to enter Valhalla among the great fallen when his time came. Even though the child was dedicated to Odin during the mother’s pregnancy, she was announced a girl on the night she was born. And while Bjorn Ingeson wouldn’t pretend she was one for fear of denying the gods’ decision to give him only female children, he treated her as one. All her sisters had learned to fight – they were vikings after all – but hers had arguably been the hardest and most gruelling training.
Eira had heard the call of the battle many times before; many times she’d hidden among the warriors to go to combat with them. Every time they had caught her and sent her back to her mother’s skirts. She was too young. Always too young. But what was the point of knowing how to fight if she couldn’t go. There was something divine about the fight. Every time she felt as if the god to whom she was dedicated hovered near her. She was destined to fight. Maybe she too one day would enter Valhalla. Unlikely as it was, she hoped to be deemed worthy of being brought to take part in the final battle of the world. Maybe like Brunehilde she would be called to serve as a Valkyrie.
Today, everything felt different, more intense. The colours were deeper, the sounds louder… She’d been standing in the yard, holding her sword preparing for a training when she heard the call, louder than ever before. It felt as if something was repeating her name until she answered. The breeze whispered her name. The ground resounded with the sound of Eira. Everything did. A battle was coming.
She knew it as certainly as she knew they would force her behind if she let them. So this time, instead of hiding within the caravan she stayed with her mother. When the horns announcing battle resounded she was with Helga. But soon as the men disappeared, she followed from as close and as far as she dared. She would make it to the battling ground and she would fight.
Image by Lady Symphonia