The Nephilim & The Maiden

H e l h e i m

They say when you die and the Valkyries do not take you to Odin that you go to Helheim. Hel and her blood stained wolf, Garmr, meet you at the gates of her realm and lead you to her hall, Elvidner, where you are welcomed with horns of mead. Unlike in Valhalla, where every day is a massive battle in which everyone must fight until the last man stands in preparation of Ragnarok, in Helheim it's life after life. Every one does the same tasks they did in life, except now in this realm. If you farmed in life on Midgard, you farmed in afterlife on Helheim. If you were a raider in life, you are one in death.

It was supposed to be a relatively peaceful existence, so long as you were not wicked in life. In which case, you were doomed to the place called Nastrond. The great hall is made from giant woven serpent spines, all of their skulls facing downward with venom slowly dripping from their fangs onto all of the wicked who are trapped there. The venom makes it's ways from the halls and creates a river of venom surrounding Nastrond so no one could escape. The dripping venom was the least of the oath-breakers, adulterers and murders worries, however. Every day, Nidhoggr, the great dragon, would eat the corpses of the wicked. Doomed to this torture for all time.

An existence in Helheim would be peaceful, that is until Loki, Hel's father, comes to collect the dead. To take them across the river Gjoll to fight against the Gods in Ragnarok.

When my eyes closed on the battlefield that day, I did not find myself in Valhalla. Nor did I find myself in Helheim, nor Nastrond though I knew I would never be cursed to go there, nor any of the other realms.

Instead, everything was was dark. There was no sound, no feeling, just cold darkness. Had everyone been wrong? How could that be? Everyone knew the stories of the Gods and the many realms. And not just here in Denmark, but in Sweden and Norway and Finland. All of our peoples stories are the same so how is it I am in this cold, dark abyss alone?

Did the Gods even exist?

The darkness seemed to go on forever until a twinge of warmth struck me. At first, the warmth was so minimal but it quickly started to spread across my belly. The darkness that surrounded me seemed to lighten and the colors I would normally see dance before my eyes when I closed them again started their sporadic and chaotic dance.

The warmth I felt started to turn into an almost searing heat. Then the pain hit.

My hands clutched onto my stomach and the moment they did, it made the pain infinitely worse. My eyes shot open and I sat up, yelping in pain. I looked down at my torso and saw dirty bandages wrapped around my stomach and chest. Brownish-green mud was seeping through the bandages that were stained with dried blood.

My body started to shake uncontrollably and before I could even think, I collapsed. I closed my eyes tightly while the throbbing ache in my belly spread across my whole body.

"Little one?"

My breath caught in my lungs. Ivar.

"Briet?" Ivar called again when I didn't answer.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and was immediately caught in his icy blue ones. He was sitting hunched over at a table with a rather large horn of mead. His shoulders were tensed and raised almost up to his ears while his one brace clad leg was stretched out to the side. The room was dark, save for the light coming from the crackling fire in the hearth and the few candles that were scattered about. Even in this dim light I could see the dark, puffy circles under his eyes from my spot.

I felt my brows knit together in confusion. Where exactly was I? I looked around at my surroundings and instantly recognized this place as Ivar's room in the great hall of Kattegat. Had Ivar and Harald won?