The battle was won, but not the war. Eskand soldiers pressed on to the fertile lands despite being unable to siege the walls of the Parrench city. Many a man ran past here paying her no mind as she stood there, stalwart in position. It wasn’t that she couldn’t move, rather she did not want to. Embers whisked past her face whilst she drank it all in. She had lost her brothers, almost died to the hand of a warrior queen, and laid waste to mean a Parrench soldier, even one feral knight. Finally taking the vivid scene around her she pressed on in a slow stroll towards the villages they had now taken for their own. 

Now within the camp and the great hall they managed to muster together she sought out those she came with on ship. Hrothgar, Kol, and Vali were whom came to mind first, perhaps even Hildr if she desired to. Flashbacks of the great feast and her search for Hrothgar from the night before the raid felt eerily similar to how she felt now. A knock was heard on the oak wood door before she let herself in. “Jarl Hrothgar, it’s good to see you still live.”

“Hah,” barked the king of kings. “I guess I take a demotion for Mother’s favour, huh?” He clasped her hand and clapped her on the shoulder. “It is good to see you well, Ulfhild, good indeed.” He released her and shook his head tightly, brushing over towards the tactical map in his great tent and motioning for her to follow. “Too many were eager for their seats at the Visitor’s table, and they earned them, like your brothers, I hear.” He bowed his head momentarily in congratulations and condolence. “I cannot deny them their reward, but I wish they’d stayed around a bit longer. We could have used them.” 

Gathered there were others: eminent figures, most of them: heroes, legends, the mighty. He gave them a moment to address her should they have so wished.

Kol stood among the many figures who had covered themselves in glory. He had finally healed from his many wounds and knew talks were to come. Now he is out of his war gear and into his more lighty wears, pelts, hides, and his large cloak, as many either took to similar fashions or made themselves more regal. Yet when Hrothgar made notice of Ulfhild, a smile came upon Kol’s face to see one of his own had made it through the battle. He was able to see another of his closer friends back from the fight, as when given the moment, Kol made his way to her and said with a booming voice, [color=crimson]”Ulfhild!”[/color]. Kol took the much smaller woman into his embrace; he held it for a moment before he let go and placed his hand upon her shoulder as he continued, [color=crimson]”I’m joyed to see you’ve made it here well”[/color]. Kol knew of her family, of her brothers who have met their end, and Kol knew of her pain, yet he could not mend it through words, it was not something easy to mend. Yet he would wish not to dwell on it, as hopefully through his actions and his friendship he may lighten the burden.

Festivities were all around her, celebrating the recent victory with cups and horns of ale. The heartwarming sight was being viewed by someone who had refused to take off their armor yet, scoffing. “You’re still the same, aren’t you, old friend?” Hildr would take off her helmet, now clearly showing her golden blond hair. Her expression showed a conflicted smile. “And then this is little Ulfhild? It’s been a couple years so my face would probably not be that familiar.” 

“Ah, yes!” announced Hrothgar, “this is she, though it has been some time since we could rightly call her ‘little’.” Many people here were eager to celebrate as if they’d won a victory. In truth, he knew, it was not. The king of kings cleared his throat and raised his hands. “My friends,” he began, his voice quiet but cutting right through what noise remained. “Soon, there will be much talk of strategy, and even tactics. We have made landfall in Parrence and these weak people of the Greenlands were unable to repel us, despite their great advantage in numbers and resources. First, though, let us remember the lives of our brothers and sisters well-lived, who have gone to Gestur’s table. Most especially, those among the Aeresvaktr who were our closest friends and allies: To Olaf, Hrolf, and Horik! Skoll!”

They toasted the dead, and Hrothgar played his part, spilling some mead out on the ground for them. “But now, we must speak of other joyous matters.” He nodded and took another sip from his ale horn. “Ulfhild, of whatever little village you’re from.” He paused and smiled cheekily. “I have discussed this matter with my friend Kol of Sturmreef and he has vouched for you skills.” Momentarily, he met the underking’s eyes. “Step forward with him and be received into the group of Ten. May you live our virtues, stand firm in and out of battle, and die, someday with honour.” He unsheathed his sword for the ceremony.

Kol saw a face he has missed for far too long, as Kol went and gave Hildr a hug as he laughed. Yet the festivities continued as they talked, toasted the dead, and talked of new things. One of the newest comes from the conversations Kol held with Hrothgar, Kol believed Ulfhild was something of a special talent who might do well with the position among the Aeresvaktr. As when Kol looked towards Ulfhild, he gave her a nod and smile. Kol stood up and went to stand next to Ulfhild as he looked to her and said, [color=crimson]”Ready?”[/color]

“If only you had sister’s blessing, then you truly would have been unstoppable” Ulfhild said in jest, although she did wonder if she should ask him on how to combat a Queen seeing as he was a King. There were perhaps better times for that conversation. His hand was rough, but surprisingly gentle. Years of war and training left his palms scarred once, twice, thrice over with callouses. “It’s good to see you as well in good health and spirits” she acquiesced to following him toward the map. She paused for a moment, a tinge of sadness coursing through her at the thought of her lost brethren. “Alas, they achieved what they sought and did it valiantly” his words were surprisingly tender, “I do too, but we shall see them in due time once again.” 

Lifting her head she was greeted by the embrace of what could have been a bear not long for hibernation given the size and stature of the man. Her arms were pinned to her side and as warm as the embrace was, her bones could hardly muster his grip. “You as well, I thought I lost you once you made way for the forest.” Gathering new air in her lungs she was greeted by yet another, “The years matter not, this little wolf had been following you since the start of battle. Seemed the Parrench did not want me to intervene” accepting that both the King and Hildr would always see her as she once was. 

Ulfhild grabbed the nearest horn she could find and toasted to the memory of not just her kin, but those of the Aeresvaktr, for even the most legendary heroes must ascend someday. She took a swig of her mead before choking on it thereafter. Her eyes shot at Kol as her cheeks became flush. “Me?” She pointed at herself, seeing the other nod. It seemed as though her dream of being in league with Thorunn was becoming more of a reality than not. She ditched her horn and stepped forward to receive her invitation to the group of ten. “Ready” she said triumphantly. 

Hrothgar’s sword settled upon first her left shoulder and then her right and he spoke the sacred words. His expression beatific and his hand steady, he drew the tip of the sword across her bare skin where he found it and drew a trickle of blood. “Let this represent the blood you will shed in service of your king and your gods. Let it be the enemy’s in great measure, and yours only as needed.” He cleaned the sword and sheathed it. “Arise, Ulfhild of Ulven: Tenth among the Aeresvaktr, and drink of this cup.” He held a great horn towards her, which was richly embellished in silver and gold and inscribed with ancient runes. “Into it, a drop of blood: the iron of your loyalty, the fire of your soul.” His gaze was intense. “Drink now!” he commanded, and others echoed his call.

Had the initiation not already been an out of body experience it would be now with the imbibing of the Ornskyr contained inside the mead. Swallowing it down she could feel a euphoric feel wash over her. Her physical body only slightly tethering her to the physical world. She could see those of the ten that fell in this battle behind her King welcoming her in and those before them behind them. Only the throbbing of the site of her fresh wound pulled her back. Ulfhild lowered her head, becoming whole again, brushing any extra from the sides of her mouth with a smile. She let out a howl solidifying the moment that would bring her and everyone she knew great honor.

“Good!” called Hrothgar, with a backslapping hug. He took the horn from her. “I embrace you.” He enfolded her in his arms and planted a small kiss on each cheek. “You go now as my hand and with my protection.” There was time yet for feasting, drink, and laughter, but soon enough began the planning. Kol, Vali, and some others were dispatched to Meldheim with the King’s official words on the battle, a Kressian named Dietrich was sent as part of an embassy, and the other two new members of the Aeresvaktr were to be inducted, welcomed by Kol, as only kings were granted that privilege. Thorunn was to return, shortly, to Hegelich for her coronation, and the remaining Aeresvaktr split between the five armies that would divide to pillage the Parrench countryside. Amid it all, the essential question was put to Ulfhild: where would she be going?

As much as she’d like to go home, she had to finish what she started.