A rumble brought an end to Ragna’s sleep. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes.

What’s going on?

Stretching her back, she stood up from her bed and turned her head towards the noise’s source.

A man was pushing buttons on a stove. Dark leather that would tear the moment he moved his muscles wrapped around his body from neck to toe. He towered over the scenery like a dragon, and ink-black barbarian hair decorated his pointy face like a lion’s mane.

It took her a second until she realized who that person was.

“Daddy?”

In front of her was her father, cooking breakfast.

Ragna’s eyes widened. She jumped out of her bed and ran towards him.

“What are you doing?” She pushed him from the stove away. “Mom forbid you to cook ever again. It took months till Sven’s hair grew back to its original length.”

Ragna hit her father’s head with a wooden spoon and put a pink apron on. She snickered. The cloth’s soft fabric tickled her skin.

“I’m sorry.” Drake lowered his head.

“As you should.” Ragna swung her spoon like a ruler. “Now, what do you want for breakfast? How about scrambled eggs.” She bit into the knuckle of her index finger. “Or maybe…?”

“Scrambled eggs sound good.”

Next to her father sat the receptionist, wearing a loose cinnabar shirt with frills on the arms.

“No.” Ragna puffed and hit him with her spoon. “This is quality father-daughter-bonding-time. Old geezers aren’t allowed.”

Sulking, the receptionist danced away to his reception desk.

“I’m sorry,“ her father said a second time. “I should bring food to the table. Yet I have to depend on you. I’m a total failure.“

“My stomach and our insurance require me to cook.” Again, Ragna tapped her father’s head with the wooden spoon of doom.

He sat on the chair the receptionist had left free and sighed. “You’re just like your mother.“

Ragna smiled. She leaned behind her father and hugged him. Shadows covered his eyes, and her arms wrapped around her father’s chest.

“Isn’t it natural for a daughter to become like her mother?” Her lips whispered into his ears. “Mom was an amazing woman. She was strong, beautiful, and intelligent. And married to an equally amazing, if slightly stupid husband.”

Her embrace tightened. Tears ran down her cheeks, wetting her father’s broad shoulders.

“She’s everything I want to be. Even if she’s gone, I’ve to become a Valkyrie like her. I promise I will fight for our happy ending as she did. We will get our lives back. And we will make those who made us suffer pay. I promise.” She pressed her chin against his shoulder blade. “I promise.”

Her hand ran through her father’s body. Like smoke, he dispersed.

She was alone.

Ragna cracked her neck and put on her clothes.

No matter what happened, she would move on. She was on a mission – neither god-sent nor for her kingdom. But one for her family, for their happiness, and for justice itself.

She opened the door and entered the world outside the room.

The waves ascended from the ocean. Rising and falling, they played an eternal rhythm of sound and water. Against the grey bark of a single tree that had emerged from the ocean’s depths, the sea stirred.

Ragna was floating in the water, yet her body was dry. Not a drop touched her.

She stared into the sky, but the tree’s branches expanded beyond her view.

Each of them led into another world. Some of those were familiar. Others, eldritch locations beyond her capability to understand. One branch connected to this world through a door. Spider webs – and the Void – covered the portal that led to a world she neither could nor should enter.

The voice that vibrated through the sky into Ragna’s mind said it didn’t matter.

That door didn’t relate to her story. It only existed for the sake of this universe’s principles: to prevent self-immolation because of reactionary instability by mingling a cross point between opposite realities.

Ragna just accepted their words. She couldn’t hope to understand them in the first place.

Sven was balancing over the tree’s roots.

Ranga smiled.

It felt like ages when they had last seen each other.

Sven reached for her and pulled her out of the water into his embrace. All strength in Ragna’s body vanished. Her fingers caressed a face that lacked any features but a smile.

So wonderfully cold.

She closed her eyes, and he kissed her eyelid. Once, twice, a third time.

Gently, with just enough force.

Ragna’s heart thudded every time, and his lips moved to the other one. Ragna opened her jacket.

Layers of Sven’s body plunged into the ocean. As if a butcher had sliced off his flesh, they fell until only his bone’s white foundation remained. He let go of her and rattled into the ocean.

Ragna looked after him.

Should she follow?

In the distance sang a voice. It called Ragna to the rocks. The sea crashed against them, and their edges cut through the water like a knife.

For a second, Ragna glanced in the other direction.

Should she follow?

“Which way is it?” A voice thundered in her mind like thunder, and her instincts trusted it. She did not need to think about this: They were her ally.

“Is one right and the other wrong? That is for you to decide. Will one lead to ruin? Will one lead to happiness? The answer is yours. If you seek salvation in a false dichotomy, so be it. But move forward.”

The water trembled, and the blue transformed into a shadow, large enough to swallow her whole.

But it never would.

From the sea emerged the shadow. Leaving behind a trail of cascades, it flew to the horizon. Before Ragna could grasp their form, it had vanished from her eyes. But she knew the words were theirs. “Salvation, damnation, absolution, retribution, none and all. Choose the path your heart desires. Do not rest at the crossroads. Progress towards the which you seek.”

֎

Moans brought an end to Ragna’s sleep, and she opened her eyes. “What the…?”

Who was that? Was that Altera? What was she doing?

It would be a brisk of privacy, but curiosity got the better of Ragna, and her eyes wandered around.

Peeking should be fine since Altera would have barricaded herself in the bathroom if she wished for privacy.

An ice construct had grown from the ceiling that resembled the Perbo-rune. Altera had frozen her feet to the formation and extended her wings. Wearing a tank top and shorts, Altera lifted her body and was doing crunches. On her right shoulder, she bore a black six-pointed cross overlaid on top of the scheme of a flower – three petals up, three petals down.

Ragna leaned closer.

Was that a tattoo? If she remembered correctly, Altera had a second one on the back of her left hand: two wings spread from a lance that impaled a rhombus.

She had never thought about it, but Altera didn’t seem to be the type to have tattoos. Perhaps it proved that she didn’t know much about her. She still couldn’t figure out her Fylgja. Altera could sprout wings and fly, but how did it connect to the ice? Not that she knew much about Fylgja.

Only about one percent of Midgard’s population would ever find the trigger to activate them. When would she find hers? Statistically, children of parents who had discovered their Fylgja had an increased likelihood of finding theirs. But no luck so far.

The ice on Altera’s feet melted, and she descended to the ground, displaying her body in a full profile.

Had Ragna a glass in her hand, she would have dropped it.

How unfair. How could anyone compete with that? Altera wasn’t a regular beauty. Her looks bordered on the supernatural. If one told her she was a changeling, she would believe it.

Ragna closed her eyes and turned around.

Altera had been conscious about either of them undressing in front of the other. Whatever brain cell of Altera didn’t function, she didn’t need Altera to notice how she had checked her out.

Whenever Altera used to have that stick far up her ass, Ragna would imagine her in underwear to undermine her authority. Her guts told her that the trick wouldn’t work anymore.

֎

“My whole body hurts.”

Ragna stretched her body. Everything cracked. Her neck sounded like she had broken a bone in two.

Uhh…That’s going to hunt her.

“I wouldn’t have thought I would miss my bed.” Ragna yawned. She took a sip out of her coffee cup and grimaced.

Twice, it tastes like cigarette butts.

“The real world won’t pamper you,” Altera’s eyes wandered through the train station. Even though it was in the city’s outskirts, many people waited for the Bifrost to arrive. “So, don’t make a fuss and get over it. Consider yourself lucky that the authorities keep your involvement and prison break hush.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ragna shrugged and waved dismissively with her hand. “I wouldn’t be so tired if you weren’t so loud. How long did you work out?”

“No idea.” Altera shrugged. “I woke up around four and didn’t look at the time when I had finished.”

Ragna looked at Altera with big eyes.

Seriously? At four? That’s less than two hours of sleep. She wasn’t human. There was no way Altera had a human body. Either that or her brain was in shambles.

“How are you even alive?”

Altera turned her back towards Ragna. “I’m just like that. There are times I don’t need to sleep at all.”

“How come you don’t have a six-pack with all that work out?”

Altera faced her again. “I’m doing a combination of cardio workout and Barre. That, plus the nutrition plan my instructors had given me, allows me to gain strength without muscle definition.”

“Was that your idea?”

“My instructor thought it would hinder my career if I looked muscular.”

Ragna lowered her eyelids.

Ah, that was right. Whether Valkyries should have a six-pack and muscles divided public opinion. As idols, Valkyries had to conform to society’s beauty ideals, find niches of alternative beauty, or become pop-cultural stereotypes. Especially the current generation of Captains contained a vast assortment of clichés.

Still, it was a small price to pay as one in exchange could fight for the sake of Midgard’s citizens and defeat evil. Though, whenever some of the more popular female Valkyries appeared on television, she occasionally couldn’t look into a mirror for days. The desire that everyone was blind would creep into her mind.

“Can I ask you something? What does your Fylgja do?”

“I thought I had told you.” Altera tilted her head. “Brynhildr allows me to grow wings and boosts my physical attributes.

“Nothing else?”

“Fylgja are manifestations of our selves through the manipulation of Mana particles our soul produces. I have these abilities because that’s who I am.”

“I see.” Ragna sighed.

Altera seemed to deny the existence of her cryokinesis. Pressing her further about the issue would probably result in Altera telling her that it was none of her business.

“Wait a minute.” Altera raised her voice. “How did you know about my abs? Did you peep?”

Ragna clicked her tongue.

Why did she have to mention it?

“It’s just a workout. That’s a normal thing to do. And it’s normal to look. What do you think would happen? That I get off of that?”

“It’s not normal.” Altera’s face became red. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who can’t look at a half-naked person.” Ragna took another sip.

One day, a shrink should look inside Altera’s head.

“M…My actions were logical. It’s you who has no shame. Stripping before another person.”

“Yeah…” Ragna sneered. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you were staring at me.”

“What has that to do with anything? It’s only natural. Like looking at a train wreck.”

“You’re calling me the train wreck?”

And thus, the two bickered until the Bifrost arrived.

---------------------

Changeling – A infant who was kidnapped by fairies and replaced with a fairy child. A common motive in literature and fairy tales.

Barre – A workout form used by models and female Valkyries that combines Pilates, yoga, and ballet. It supposedly allows to build strength without gaining a visible muscle definition. Its effectiveness is often debated.