Moving through the woods, it feels like I have been walking for hours, my feet working on their own, automatically stepping in the direction I am heading. My eyes look straight ahead and try to focus on my destination. I finally reach a clearing, and find that I am alone. The faint harmonies of the swift, gliding birds above fill my eardrums, although are never near to drowning out the sound of my pounding heart. Every cautious step my trembling body can manage is leading me ever closer to my destiny. I know that soon I will be where I have to be; my thoughtful planning will finally be put into action. Then, I see it, towering above me. Thick wooden planks crafted together to form a sturdy structure. It is a longship. The longship I will board.
Quickly I glance around at my surroundings, trying to ignore the overwhelming fear creeping up inside of me, I avoid the longship and keep it out of my vision as it is overpowering to see and makes me more nervous than I already am. Looking around, I notice that the floor around me is a purple blanket, and I wonder why I have never noticed that before. As I inhale the sweet scent of lavender, I remember the disastrous day it all changed. The fated night which led me to where I am now, and the dangers I will soon face...
Lavender. Once my favourite scent, but how possibly my most hated one. It brings bad memories with it, especially the ones which I would rather forget. And now as I breathe in the aroma, I remember when I used to sit on my mothers lap. I had nuzzled close to her perfumed apron as she told me the story of the famed, long hoped for 'End Battle', a story told to all children by their parents to bring hope not only to the child who is being told the story, but as well to the adult telling it. I was absorbed into this story until an enemy Viking longship invaded. The brutes entered my home, carelessly knocking over everything in sight, and seizing my mother. My father and brothers had gone out that night, hunting and training and so were unable to fight and protect us, meaning that the intruders has slaughtered my precious mother in mere seconds. Because of my age and size I had been able to hide underneath our narrow bed, but no matter how hard I squeezed my eyes shut or held my ears closed, I could still hear the blood curdling screams from my mother, the maniacal laughs coming from the murderous infiltrators, and most vividly, the image of my mother being in their grasp. In revenge, and because he blamed himself for not being there, my father arranged a longship assault to England, where he and both my brothers led the attack, but they were not victorious in their search, meaning my mothers vengeance was postponed, although his warriors never stopped fighting. Nothing was given to me except fathers golden locket which contains a picture of him, mother, my two brothers; Ragnor and Lokin, and me, all sat together.
I open that same locket now, mother and father with their arms around each other, my brothers smiling mischievously, and me grinning broadly in the centre. Looking at my mother, I remember the words she would tell me each night; 'Do good things, and things will be good for you', and I think about how she always did good, yet she still was brutally murdered. Thinking about this makes the rage bubble and boil inside of my body, spilling over, wanting to be let out. Hot tears travel down my face, blurring my vision until I angrily rub at my eyes, wiping tears liquid from my cheeks, and take a shaky, deep breath. It was time. As I step aboard the secure wooden planks of the colossal longship, my heart pounds deeply in my chest. The unknown looms ahead; soon I will get my revenge, and finish the task my brothers and father started. My father was a Jarl, a great leader, and I must replicate this, and be as great as my father once was, to make him proud, and keep his legacy. As the ship starts to move away from the land, I try hard not to think about the dangers, about how there are so many risks to take for the smallest chance that I will find my mother's killer. The ship sinking, the others finding that I am a female and being thrown off board, being killed in combat; these are all high risks, but I decide that I am willing to go forward, and push ahead, even with these threats in my way. My mother said if I do good then good will happen to me, and so I hope that she is not angry with me for doing what I plan to do. She never did condone violence, so her daughter going on a mission to kill would definitely not please her.
Whilst aboard this ship, I have to pretend to be a male warrior, but behind that facade, I am Brynhild Tougard; a warrior? Yes, but a terrified one, who does not know if she is ready to face everything ahead. I think of my name, and what it means; strong fighter under the protection of Thor. If only that was the truth. But for now I am Egon Aiken; a fiery soul who is particularly good with a sword.
I stand at the edge of the ship, looking at the waves and thinking of my family. I know that no matter how hard I try, anything I do will not bring back my parents. I may never find the merciless murderers that so ruthlessly took the life of my beloved mother. What I do know is that in the end, one way or another, I will leave this place, and head to the glorious Valhalla, and I can once again be reunited with my parents.
