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Gudrun, the proud Valkyrie

The Valkyrie whirled above the battlefield. The screams of men bellowed below and steel rang upon steel, piercing flesh. Crowds of northern warriors continued pouring out from the longboats on the riverbank. The previous Winter was harsh and the warriors were hungry and thus – very, very angry. The Southerners were unlucky this time, they failed to notice the approaching threat, failed to hide the cattle in the forests, failed to hide their goods and failed to hide themselves. The valkyrie Gudrun even pitied them somewhat. Especially the hay-haired girl running from the bearded northerner.

As she watched the girl run amidst the burning homes, Gurdun suddenly imagined herself in her place. But she was running not from a screaming warrior in the middle of a burning village, but from a laughing youth with wide open arms in a blossoming meadow. Finally, he reaches her, throws her on the ground, and covers her with kisses…

A piercing scream brought her back to reality. The northerner finally reached his trophy and was now about to do what warriors usually do with girls during raids. Gudrun spread her enormous wings and flew to the other side of the village. This was her first battle, and the things that seemed so ordinary and plain to hardy warriors still struck a chord with her.

The valkyrie needed a distraction, and quickly. She grasped her huge sword and dived in where she saw the Southerners pressing a youngster from the northern clans against a wall. The effect of surprise, coupled with the wind, spurred by Gudrun’s wings during her landing, caused two of the peasants to fall from their feet. The third continued to stand, but so great was his shock that he was unable to even lift his club, which served as his weapon. With a single stroke of her sword, the man was beheaded and with two more – the remainder lay dead. It was strange to her, for she did not recall practicing, and yet her hands wielded the sword with ease. She barely even remembered much before this battle. Only…

Cold. Hunger. Cold burns from the outside. Hunger burns from within. Someone weeps. A man? A woman? She could not tell. Frost made her brows heavy, bones like icicles crackling from every move. One more step and they will break. And then – silence. Darkness. And in the darkness voices are born. The voices call to the light, sing, chant, pull…towards the sky. Wings behind the back. A sword in her hand. A battle below. These – were hers. Those – enemies. Protect hers; kill enemies.

Gudrun the valkyrie whirled above the battlefield. She dived down to give work to her sword and then headed back up into the clouds. She could see two other winged warrioresses catching the wind with ease. And below – the wingless warriors were casually looting a village.

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