Einherjar

16

The sun began to rise only to see all the new recruits marching towards Yggdrasil. Dressed in a new, clean, dull grey training tunic, Blader walked in between Wolfsted and Sodull, Erik on the other side of Sodull, swords and shields hanging on their backs. Skalfi and Vandri were two rows ahead of them.

No one spoke. The morning was cool, the grass damp with dew. A light breeze blew as the sky began to lighten with the approach of the sun. The Reenactment was about to begin.

Breakfast that morning had been quick but substantial, the recruits allowed a helping of seconds for the first time since arriving. Finding food wasn't guaranteed once the Reenactment started. Nothing was guaranteed, come to think of it.

Master Utan called for a halt as Blader's unit reached the edge of the root basin. All the units stood in a line, staring up at Yggdrasil as it towered before them. For most of the recruits, this was the first time they had been this close to the Reborn Tree, the only exceptions being Wolfsted, Skalfi, and Blader. But their awe was tempered by tension as the first unit was called forward to descend into the root basin and approach the trunk of the tree.

Blader took slow breaths to keep himself calm and collected, his eyes trained on Yggdrasil. It wouldn't be long before his unit was called to enter the Reenactment and he would be in survival mode. He started to wonder what trials he would face, once inside, and then squashed those thoughts. He needed to focus and be ready for anything.

We are forced to endure trials from the days of past.

His father's words rang in his mind as the second unit was called down into the basin. Wolfsted shifted, once, and Sodull clenched and unclenched his fists. Blader took another breath.

Every single Reenactment ends the same way. Ragnarok.

Ragnarok holds an irrevocable place in the memory of the days of past, and as such, the gods felt it should be engraved on our hearts with the heat of fire and the strength of ice. So Ragnarok is the crown of the Reenactment, ensuring all einherjar have to endure it in order to serve. It is the finale of the trials. All surviving warriors end up on the plain of Vigrid and have to live through the carnage of the end of the first world, in order to understand.

"Unit 232! Move out!"

Automatically, Blader started forward with the rest of his unit as Utan's words broke the silence, the recruits descending the slope into the root basin and walking toward the root nest. Passing underneath the roots that arced over their heads, they approached the trunk of Yggdrasil, the wide, scarred tree seeming to stretch for miles in each direction.

Master Utan led them into a small clearing among the roots, hidden from outside eyes by the closeness of the root growth. Once they were all inside, he pivoted to face them.

"This is the end of the line, recruits. The Reenactment starts now, for you. Listen to all the seer has to tell you and live and die honorably." With that, he gave them a curt nod and strode out of the clearing.

There was uncomfortable silence after he left as the recruits waited for something to happen. It felt like a lifetime but was only about a minute before a soft voice spoke. "Good morning, recruits."

A woman stepped out of the roots on the other side of the clearing. Her face was wrinkled, her hair was wavy and black, streaked with grey, and her dark green eyes appeared old, like she'd seen many more years than her face seemed to suggest. She was clothed in a long, white dress that touched the ground, covering her feet. A dark cloak was draped over her shoulders.

Blader's eyes widened. She must be one of the seers of Yggdrasil, who were charged with trying to read the future. They were the ones who oversaw the Reenactment, both protecting it from outside interference and summoning the rekkr to populate the representation of the days of past. They were in charge of testing the recruits for honor, courage, and strength.