The clasps at the shoulders and sides clicked softly into place, the golden armor glistening and molding perfectly to her body, as if it had been uniquely crafted just for her.
“These vambraces are golden metal, like the corslet, but with supple leather on the inside, to allow freedom of movement as you wieldSólfalkrandFalkskjöldr.” Freyja handed Brynhildrthe pair of curved armored plates, each etched with falcon feathers and runes, like the corslet itself.
Yrsa fitted the first vambrace over Bryhildr’s forearm, threading the leather strap underneath and fastening it through the golden buckle.
Brynhildr secured the second vambrace herself, admiring the gleaming golden feathers, intricate runes, and glowing amber gems.
Pride warmed Freyja’s mellow voice as she offered Brynhildr the remaining pieces to complete the enchanted armor. “The amber leather is reinforced for strength, yet flexible enough to bend with you in battle. And the copper color of the rich hide not only complementsFalkhjarta, it captures your essence as the Sun Falcon Shieldmaiden.” With a radiant smile, Freyja presented the leggings, boots, and gloves, all in rich bronze hues of amber leather, intricately tooled with images of protective runes, radiant sunbursts, and falcons in flight.
Yrsa helped Brynhildr fasten the straps of the leather leggings whose markings glowed softly along her sleek thighs. The fitted boots were perfectly shaped to support and protect her feet. And when Brynhildr slid her shaking hands into the supple gloves, the chestnut leather, etched with falcon feathers and runes like the corslet itself, pulsed with potent fire.
Her Sun Falcon armor complete, Brynhildr sensed it come alive, wrapping her in divine strength, agility, and defense.
She unsheathedSólfalkrfrom the scabbard at her hip and raised theFalkskjöldrshield with her left hand. The golden corslet and copper leather hummed in harmony with the falcon weapons, the amber gems and runes glowing like the sun, pulsing with the rhythm of her heart.
Tentatively, she swungSólfalkrin a swooping arc. The blade sang as it cut through the salty air wafting into the chamber from the open window overlooking the fjord.Falkskjöldrmovedeffortlessly to shield an imagined strike, pivoting with her as if guided by falcon wings. She spun, testing the movement of the corslet and vambraces as she lunged forward, the boots gripping the pinewood floor, the leggings bending like living leather.
Energy flowed from the golden armor, rippling up her arms. Brynhildr deftly raised the falcon shield to block a simulated blow, countering with a swift, sleek strike of her sword. Every motion was seamless, the armor flowing fluidly with her body, amplifying her strength and speed. The runes along her thighs and gloves shimmered as she moved, glowing brighter with each coordinated sweep.
She halted, chest heaving and spirit soaring. The trinity of enchanted weapons—corslet, sword, and shield—was a divine extension of herself.
Freyja’s amber eyes glimmered, her luminous smile radiant as the sun. “My triad of gifts will enhance your heart, your soul, and your destiny. No mortal enemy may defeat you.From this day forward, you shall bear the nameSun Falcon. A shieldmaiden fated to ride with the Valkyries.”
Chapter 3
Born of Two Realms
A thrill rippled up Brynhildr’s spine.
Freyja has foreseen that I shall ride with the Valkyries! Yet…if my faðir gives me away as a prize to the champion of the tournament, how can I possibly fulfill my fate?
“Freyja, Goddess ofSeiðr, I am humbled by such generous gifts.” Brynhildr ran appreciative fingertips over the intricately etched falcon stretched across her golden corslet, gesturing to the magnificent sword sheathed at her hip and the falcon shield gripped tightly in her left hand. “I am honored to bear the nameSun Falcon… and awed that you have foreseen a Valkyrie’s destiny for me.”
She laid the shield against the wall and turned to face the glimmering goddess.
“But myfaðir,King Budli, has offered my hand in marriage to the winner of theSólhjartaTournament, to be held on the Summer Solstice two moons hence. If I am destined to become a Valkyrie, I must refuse to wed the champion.”
Freyja’s tone became sharp as steel. “Neverdefy a king’s decree—even if he is yourfaðir.” She strode toward the open window and gazed down at the sunlit fjord, long blonde locks flowing like molten gold to her slender waist. “Your refusal would dishonor, humiliate, and enrage King Budli—which would, in turn, draw Odin’s disfavor upon you.”
She turned back to look at Brynhildr, a mischievous glint in her amber eyes. “Rather than humiliate him,” she suggested, her tone coy and playful, “offer instead a thrilling challenge—one that will lift his honor high and wreathe him in glory.”
A triumphant smile illuminated Freyja’s radiant face. “Tell yourfaðirthat you will marry the champion… but only if he is a man without fear—one who can defeat you in single combat.”
Freyja glided toward Brynhildr. Long, luminous fingers traced her cheek and lifted her chin so she would meet the goddess’ golden gaze. “With the enchanted gifts I have just bestowed, no mortal man may defeat you. You shall be the champion of theSólhjartaTournament. Odin’s ravens, Huginn and Muninn, will carry word to theAllfatherof the invincible Sun Falcon Shielmaiden…” She smiled, her limpid voice soft as moonlight. “And you, dear Brynhildr, shall rise to ride with the Valkyries.”
Brynhildr’s fingers lingered on the hilt ofSólfalkr,tracing the falcon head etched into the glowing amber. Her appreciative eyes lingered on the glittering golden corslet molded to her body and the glorious falcon shield leaning against the wall. The triad of gifts Freyja had bestowed pulsed with power and promise, and a surge ofseiðrsparked through her veins. For the first time in her life, Brynhildr reveled in the full weight of her own strength—and the freedom it offered. No mortal man could claim her. No king—not even herfaðir—could alter her fate.
Curiosity burned within her, born of the goddess’ earlier words.
“From the shining fields of Fólkvangr,long I have watched you grow.Once a beloved babe, now a spirited shieldmaiden…”
Brynhildr lifted her gaze to Freyja, whose golden eyes glowed with otherworldly light. “Goddess ofSeiðr… why have you have watched me since I was a babe?”
Her heartfelt question hung heavy in the salty, sunlit air.
A wistful smile curved Freyja’s lips, and a shadow of sorrow dimmed her radiant face. Her whisper broke the solemn stillness.
“Because you are my dóttir.”
