Through the still waters of the Mirrored Sea, she glimpsed him on the deck of hisÚlfalkrship. The blue grey fur of hisBlárúlfrwolfskin cloak shimmered in the pale winter sun. Lapis lazuli beads were braided into his glorious blond hair and golden beard. As she watched him with mournful yearning, theouroborosburned asseiðrpoured from her Sun Falcon soul into her beloved Sea Wolf.
As if he sensed her eyes upon him and her spirit flooding his, he gazed out at the western sea where the setting sun streaked the wintry sky.
Sigurd… how I long for your touch, your taste… your body merging with mine. We are bound by breath, body, and blood, our fates eternally entwined. And yet… if I am destined to ride as a Valkyrie, and you must avenge your faðir, how can our future be interwoven in the web of wyrd? I pray the Norns shall reveal the path that leads me back to you. For each day that we are apart is a torment I can no longer bear.
As she gazed into the blue depths of the Mirrored Sea, the vision of an ongoing battle unfolded before her eyes.
Black braids beaded with bones, swan cloaks unfurled like Odin’s ravens, theKaunTriad swept down from smoke-filled skies. Amidst clashing steel and axes shattering shields, they pressed the blades of their gleaming spears to the sword arms of brutal warriors drenched in blood.
In the center of the carnage, a bearskin-clad king fell, his fiery soul engulfed in flames as the Valkyries claimed him for Odin.
The enemy king who had slain him grinned in garish triumph as the Bear King’s banner fell beside his bloodied body. When the blond brute blew an enormous horn, his victorious army quickly stripped the dead, taking armor, armbands, shields, and swords. The invading warriors hauled the seized treasure to their awaiting ships and departed with raucous shouts of victory.
Spears clutched in skeletal hands, shrieks piercing the twilit sky, theKaunTriad disappeared in black feathered swan cloaks upon their black winged steeds.
On the blood-soaked battlefield strewn with mangled bodies, one of the vanquished warriors produced a bloodied crown, taken from their slain Bear King. While others watched,desperate hope alight in their devastated eyes, the warrior reverently placed the bronze circlet upon the shaggy brown head of another bearskin-clad berserker, hunched over the fallen king.
As rallying cheers erupted among the beleaguered men, the newly crowned king rose from his knees. Upon the chest plate of his gleaming chainmail armor, a golden sunburst etched with runes and embellished with amber glinted in the gloaming.
Brynhildr’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in recognition.
The newly crowned king was Agnar—the Bear of Bjarkhölm—clad in theSólvörnarmor herfaðirhad presented him in the final championship of the Sólhjarta Tournament.
The blood brother who had sworn the sacred oath with Sigurd beneath her private tower.
While she reeled with this astounding revelation, she glimpsed Agnar turn to a warrior at his side and bark an urgent command. The man nodded, gathered his crew, and quickly loaded supplies onto his ship.
Throughseiðr,Brynhildr understood.
Agnar has summoned Sigurd.
She remembered their blood oath at dawn, sworn on the edge of the cliff at Hrafnfjall. “Should the Bear of Bjarkhölm summon, the Sea Wolf of Sjóborg shall come.”
As she gazed into the Mirrored Sea, interpreting warfare tactics that Skögul had taught her, Brynhildr foresaw another imminent battle.
The blond king—Hjálmgunnar,herseiðrwhispered—would soon return to conquer Bjarkhölm.
And Sigurd would come to Agnar’s aid.
I must foresee the future. But to do so, I need to invoke the Norns.
Freyja had told Brynhildr that asdóttirof the Goddess ofSeiðr, she had inherited divine knowledge which surpassed that of all the other Valkyries. Brynhildr would wield that sublime power now.
Rising from her knees at the edge of the Mirrored Sea, she brushed pebbles from the front of her gown. Falcon heart hammering in her Valkyrie breast, Brynhildr dashed up the path to her stone cottage at the top of the cliff.
She closed the shutters on her window and tossed another log onto the fire. With an iron poker, she stoked the banked embers, coaxing them into flames. From the clusters of herbs on her cluttered shelves, she retrieved three juniper berries and tossed them into the hearth.
They snapped and crackled, releasing a crisp piney scent that flooded her with fond memories of Yrsa. As she envisioned the beloved blue face of her mentor, tears welled in her eyes.You would be proud of me, Yrsa. My seiðr has become incredibly strong.
Amongst the brightly colored vials and stoppered jars, she selected three sparkling gemstones, one to represent each of the three Valkyrie Triads.
Amber, for the firesight of Kaun. Emerald, for the forest-seeing herbs of Algiz. And lapis lazuli, for Laguz visions through the Mirrored Sea.
Brynhildr set the glittering gems in a triangle on the wooden floor in front of her fragrant stone hearth. She lit three candles and arranged them around the triad of glittering stones.
A trio of herbs to invoke the three Norns. Henbane, its potent poison enabling firesight. Mugwort, for the herbal protection of Algiz. And Angelica, for the spirit journey of Laguz.
She placed the three herbs—one tiny black henbane seed, one white blossom of angelica, and one green leaf of driedmugwort—into a silver chalice of mead. The runes and gems of her sacred goblet glistened in the incandescent light.
