Daughter of the North:A Shieldmaiden's Fate

Chapter 1 - The Death of Freya

The rugged winter landscape of Scandinavia lay blanketed in pure, white snow, the biting wind

howling through the skeletal trees. The air felt heavy, as if the land itself mourned, mirroring the

sorrow within Eirik's longhouse.

Inside, the warm glow of the fire flickered against the wooden walls, but the comfort of the

flames were overshadowed by an atmosphere thick with grief. Family and close friends gathered,

their faces somber, eyes downcast. The sound of muffled cries and whispered prayers filled the

air, each word a tribute to the fading life of a beloved woman.

In the corner of the room, Freydis—a young girl of six years —sat beside her mother's bed, clutching a

small wooden toy in her small hands. Her wide, innocent eyes flickered between the healer's

frantic movements and her mother's pale face, confusion mingling with a growing sense of

dread. Freya, weak but still radiant, struggled to maintain her composure, her gaze locking onto

Freydis with a fierce love.

"Be strong, my little star," Freya whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Honor the warrior

spirit within you, and do not fear the trials that lie ahead. Remember, I will always be with you."

Eirik stood by the door, a fierce warrior reduced to a shell of himself, broken by grief. He

watched helplessly, torn between the weight of his duty as king and the heartbreaking reality of

being a father. His love for Freya consumed him, alongside the daunting responsibility of raising

their daughter alone.

As Freya took her last breath, the room fell into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the

crackling fire. Freydis felt a chill run through her, confusion mingling with the dawning

realization of loss. She didn't fully grasp the finality of death, but she sensed a great void open

within her, as if the warmth of her mother was fading into the cold air.

Eirik's face hardened, etched with sorrow and fierce determination. He knelt beside Freydis,

gathering her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she might slip away too. "I vow to

protect you," he murmured, his voice trembling. "And I will honor your mother's memory with

every breath I take. I will train you as a warrior, instilling in you the values of honor, courage,

and loyalty that she cherished."

As the weight of their grief settled around them, Eirik and Freydis found solace in each other, a

bond forged in love and loss, destined to face the trials of the world together.

As he spoke, the flickering flames cast a warm glow around them, a fragile sanctuary amidst the

storm of their grief. Eirik felt the weight of his promise press down on him, a mantle of

responsibility that he would bear for both himself and Freydis.

Outside, the wind howled louder, as if the gods themselves wept for their loss. A raven landed on

the roof, its dark feathers stark against the white snow, watching with knowing eyes. Eirik