Welcome to Valhalla

"You're dead..."

Charlotte woke up in a panic, gasping for air.

Her head turned frantically, looking for her enemy.

The air was slightly crisp and the sky was almost pure white from the clouds.

Was it...winter? That couldn't be right.

Charlotte slowly stood.

She looked at her clothes, which made her more confused than ever.

Strangely, her clothing looked freshly washed, and her purple praetor cape looked brand new. Her golden sword was sheathed and at her side.

She bore no wounds, scratches, or bruises, and she felt like she could run a mile.

Charlotte looked around to notice that she was standing in a beautiful courtyard, flooded with plants, flowers, and green grass, surrounded by a limestone wall with no exit.

How were there flowers and greenery in winter? Where was she?

A vast, eight-story townhouse, made of white limestone and grey marble rose to meet the sky.

Massive, double doors, made of wood, rimmed with iron, stood at the entrance.

The Daughter of Jupiter strode over to them, still on guard, her hand not far from her sword.

A large mahogany plage was embedded into the wall next to the doors, that included two translations. One was in some sort of ancient text (was it...Norse?), while the other was in English.

Welcome to the Grove of Glasir.

No soliciting. No loitering.

Hotel deliveries: please use the Niflheim entrance.

Charlotte's eye twitched which included a series of emotions: confusion, anger, fear.

She needed to get out of...whatever this place was. Her camp needed her, and somehow, a primordial, Erebus, was on the loose, trying to demolish everything she loved.

What was his problem with her anyway?

Before Charlotte could think of an answer for herself, the giant doors suddenly swung inward with a rumble and blindingly bright sunlight spilled out.

A strange doorman stood at the stoop, wearing white gloves, a dark green jacket, and a tall, black, top hat. The letters 'HV' were embroidered into his uniform.

Charlotte kept her grip on her sheathed sword tight, ready for an attack from the strange doorman; she could see past the harmless uniform. His face was covered in warts and pimples, his beard was long and tangled, his face and hands were covered in ash, and he carried a large, double bladed axe.

He wore a nametag that read: Hunding Saxony, Valued Team Member Since 749 C.E.

She stepped back slightly, ready to unsheathe her sword. "Who are you?" she demanded. "How did I get here?"

The strange doorman (Hunding Saxony?) rolled his eyes slightly as if he had been asked the question too many times before her. "You're dead," he stated.

Charlotte paused. "What?"

"D-E-A-D," he spelled out. "Dead."

The thoughts and memories flashed back in her mind.

She remembered Erebus' longbow and arrow materialize in his hand, aimed straight at her.

She remembered feeling helpless and weak as he pulled back the string.

She remembered the arrow of darkness snap out of the weapon, and feeling a flood of sharp pain overflow through her chest.

Charlotte rubbed her heart, remembering the intense pain.

"Yes, yes," Hunding yawned. "Now come with me."

Her feet were planted solidly on the ground. "Why?"

"You need to check in," he said simply. "This way to registration."