“Dear Journal,
I find myself in good company, her name is Alice. Her last name Verdandi, is in fact taken from her late husband “Sigurd Verdandi”. Despite having lost my memory from the berserkergang, I find myself in good spirits. Alice has agreed that keeping a journal should help job my memory at some point. Until then, I have agreed to become her apprentice and companion to further myself as Valkyrie. She has also dubbed me the name “Vorkera”, something she says is a shortened version of my demeanor combined with my name, “Voracious, Tenacious, Careful” and then “Sera”. My Valkyrie nickname has also been dubbed Vera the same. I have always found multiple names to be strange, but Verdandi informs me that Odin himself has over two-hundred.”
Hugs and Kisses,
Sera
—
Towards evening, Sweiza is treated to Strife’s living room. It is in fact converted to a study of sorts with books all over. There is a small coffee table in the center with one large red chair next to it. A fireplace is adjacent on the wall with multiple book shelves around it. Sweiza remembers this is the same scene she saw sometime earlier in the morning. Sweiza is treated to a number of books, something Strife feels is among her most valued items. One book in particular has Sweiza’s attention; it has a stylized looking cover. She can’t figure out where the urge comes from, but she pushes the desire to steal it out of her mind. However, before she can set it down on the table, Strife tells her it is obvious the girl wants it and therefor she can keep it. Sweiza informs her that she wants to keep it as a journal, it might help her with her memories - Strife agrees.
Hours pass. Sweiza is delighted at some of the tales that she reads. However, as evening passes and the fire dies down, Sweiza finds herself longing for sleep. She excuses herself from Strife’s graces, but as she ascends the stairs, she finally stops.
“Alice?”
Strife looks over from her chair. “Hmm?”
“Where is the bathroom, I don’t remember seeing one.”
A smile creeps up on Strife’s face. “It’s under the stairwell dear.”
Something approaching a puzzled blank expression adorns Sweiza’s face. She looks over the banister and sees the door.
Once downstairs again, the door is open and Sweiza is confused at what she sees. There is a small (and quite confining) tub in the lower end of the stairwell, and a combination sink/toilet on the higher end with a medicine cabinet attached to the wall. She turns back towards Strife.
“How did this get in here? It’s so cramped!”
Strife’s eyes and head roll away from the girl in amusement. She stifles a laugh.
“This house was my parent’s idea. I merely inherited it.”
Sweiza’s mouth drops slightly, “Where are they now?”
Strife looks back to her, more of a somber expression, “They perished during the war.”
Sweiza looks over at her and is about to say something. Strife interrupts her.
“Sera, perhaps it would be better for young curious girls to get some sleep rather than haunt her dreams with ghosts of the past.”
Sweiza simply nods in surprize, choosing not to address the issue. She nods into a bow once, and then walks upstairs.
—
Later in the evening as Sweiza has completed writing in her ‘journal’, she has it under the bed. Through the window, the moon of Mylaka casts its dull glow across the bedroom. Sweiza has the covers over her, and feels the cold of the night air against her face. Events of the day fill her mind, including a number of the books she has read. Even if she never gets her memory back, with Strife’s library at her disposal, she can most certainly keep herself amused, if not informed.
Sweiza’s thoughts are interrupted as she hears something behind her. She turns around (still in bed) and sees Strife standing over her. Her odd style of dress with corset is gone, and she is in something akin to a nightie, something similar to what Sweiza has worn most of the day. Sweiza has the sudden thought she will have to ask about clothing for herself, if not boring some of Strife’s in the meantime. To her surprise, Strife pulls the covers up and she is in the small bed with her.
Sweiza’s eyebrows shoot up and she gives a confused frown. Strife shakes her head at the girl.
“Valkyrie eat, sleep, bathe and companion together.”
Sweiza just stairs at her. This is a bit much.
Strife’s expression changes. “No secrets between Valkyrie helps build comaraderie on the battlefield. You’ll get used to it.”
Sweiza says nothing.
Her expression changes. She remembers the man on the vanity.
“The man on the vanity.”
Strife’s head shifts slightly in that direction and then it comes back with her eyes on Sweiza.
“His name is Sigurd. He is my late husband.”
Sweiza is about to say something more, but Strife’s finger comes up to the girl’s mouth.
“Young girls should reserve their energy for dreaming instead of asking all kinds of questions. Good night Sera.”
Strife rolls in position in the opposite direction. Sweiza is left to stare at the back of her head. Sweiza wears a confused expression. She is about to say something but dismisses it as something better to follow through with tomorrow. She turns around with her back to Strife. She looks up once out the window at the eerie dull glow of Mylaka. She looks down at the floor, but then nothing as the land of sleep takes her.
---
Sweiza bolts up in a cold sweat with hear heart pounding and her lungs gasping for air. She looks around quickly at her surroundings. Nothing unfamiliar. However, her heart won’t stop pounding and her body longs for air.
She is up out of bed and pulls open the window to let cold air in.
At this point Mylaka has her attention. It has moved in the sky some distance from where she last remembers it earlier in the night. By her reckoning six hours should have passed. The lake in the distance catches her attention as the light from Mylaka shines off of it. There are definitive waves rippling across the surface. She finally comes to attention to the wind and finally sets herself down to her knees and leans through the window. This is nice. She wishes she could stay like this for awhile, but her body still aches from whatever it is that hit her a few days before. She is still alert, but her breathing and hearbeat have turned to something more managable. She lowers the window and leave sit open just enough to let air in. Surely Strife wouldn’t mind. Back to bed.
However, Strife isn’t there. Sweiza stops to think about it for a second. She dismisses it and then heads back to bed. However, sleep refuses to take her. That constant lingering thought that something is wrong.
She is out of bed and hurries downstairs, at least as carefully as she can make herself in the dark. A window in the hallway does help illuminate a little bit of the stares due to one of the Avalan moons, but a actual lantern would be nice. She makes a note to get a lantern or ask Strife about using one.
Downstairs in the kitchen she sees nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps Strife went out for a walk? She checks the door adjacent from the stairs leading outside; it is locked. She wiggles the door for good measure, it doesn’t go anywhere. She repeats the same procedure to the back door in the living room. Locked with nothing out of the ordinary. She checks the stairwell bathroom; nothing is out of place.
She can only assume Strife headed out for a walk or something has happened. Both of which she will not be able to conclude until at least morning; by her reckoning still a few hours off. With that in mind she heads back up the stairs and to bed. Hopefully some ill foreboding or nasty thing wasn’t lurking in the shadows waiting for her. She shakes her head at the thought and tosses the covers over her head. Her feet stick outside the covers. In her mind it can grab her for all she cares, but assuming it is in her head, she doesn’t want to see it coming; having cold air on her feet is also a nice feeling to get to sleep quicker.
Sleep does just that.
—
The crow of a rooster. A deep breath and an involuntary action of the hands tightening. Sweiza’s eyes shutter open. The mid-morning sun shines through the window. How long was she asleep? She should have checked the clock. Wait, where is the clock in this houes? She looks over at the vanity. There is no clock there. Was there one in the study or the kitchen? She has to use the bathroom.
Down the stairs and about facing to meet the stairwell, she sees the grandfather clock. She shakes her head.
Relief.
Closing the bathroom door, she looks towards the kitchen table and then the study. She freezes.
An image of Strife in her armor appears in front of her. She looks down and her arms are tightened into fists. Except they are hairy. The next thing she feels is the sword hitting her neck, but nothing happens.
Sweiza snaps back to reality. She doesn’t remember seeing Strife in armor. The harry arms. Was that the berserkergang? Strife had mentioned it; Sweiza has heard of it. Does Sweiza have the bear in her? No way, not possible. She tries to behave herself… or is it from memory loss and she is actually naughty at heart? She shakes the thought. She is a guest in this house and wants to behave herself.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She looks towards the study. She looks back and forth. She calls for Strife. There is no answer.
Hunger hits her.
She looks up towards the cupboards. She doesn’t remember seeing a refridgerator. They tend to be spendy and not many people in Maria had them. She shakes the thought, food is top priority. She hurries to the cupboard and starts looking through the contents. Mostly unedible ingredients that need to be combined to make anything. She stops to think. Ah, cereal. She grabs it and pulls out a bowl. Powdered milk one shelf below. Perfect. She looks over to the bathroom and then to the sink. She remembers Strife has at least running water. The thought of eating at the study occurs to Sweiza, she dismisses it, again she is a guest in a person’s house. She can’t believe she thinks of so many naughty ways to take advantage of someone’s hospitality; just what is wrong with her?
Sitting in her chair from last night, she looks down at her bowl and closes her eyes and claps her hands together. The first thought is to be thankful to the ‘Goddess of Fertility’ for blessing the village. While cereal isn’t the most savory of foods, it is sustenance and will do in a pinch.
Food finally in her belly she looks up at the ceiling. Just how long will Strife be gone? She goes to put her bowl and spoon in the sink and promptly cleans it and leaves it in the adjoining sink and tray to dry. No sense in being a ‘naughty’ house guest.
She tries to think back to last night. She woke up abruptly; was what she saw earlier the nightmare she had? Perhaps Strife left? In Maria Village it is considered a token gesture to leave a note on the door incase a person leaves abruptly for whatever reason. She does just that.
A note is on the door.
Reaching up for it, she reads it as follows:
“Vera -
A vassal from a nearby village has dispatched and brought to my attention several livestock attacks in neighboring villages. As my late parents had ties to this area as a noble family, it is my duty to check up on it. I assume it is as simple as a wolf or some creature similarly there of, and is outside the scope of being a Valkyrie. As I do not know what your skill level is due to your memory loss, I have chosen to take this journey alone. I should be no longer than a few days. However, should I not return within a week, it may be a good idea to check up on me ‘cautiously’. Should it turn out to be a supernatural creature, I may very well need your assistance. Keywords being cautiously.
Please enjoy the comforts of my domicile until at that point in which I return. Return everything where you find it. My books are also my most cherished possessions, please be kind to them.
To the left of the door find what I assume to be your rucksack with your things. It was near a makeshift bed at Southerly Village.
I now depart with haste,
- Alyssa Verdandi”
“Alyssa?” She mouths the name to herself. Perhaps it is one of the different names Alice finds in fashion.
She looks down and to the left of the door while curling the letter up. She sees the rucksack. The letter is stuck into one of the side pockets. Funny though, she doesn’t remember the rucksack belonging to her. It also has a patch on it that says “Sweiza”. The name sounds familiar, but is not a particularly savory name, it sounds almost boisterous and eccentric. She shrugs and walks off.
Her first order of business is getting some actual clothing so she isn’t seen unprepared.
—
In the bedroom Sweiza has her eyes on the vanity and the different clothing. Pants and a shirt is the order, nothing special. Three things weigh in on Sera’s mind as she throws on some socks. “How long will Strife be?”, “Should I go to the study, check out Maria Village or rummage through that rucksack to jog my memory?”, but more importantly, “Why can’t I remember anything?”
She decides to check out the rucksack first. She definitely knows what the different stuff is. Various things such as seasoning for wild game hunting, a compact bow and set of arrows for such a thing, a small set of chakrams for defense, a knife, a dagger, machete, several pouches, a tent attached to the underside of it, a small tarp, some kind of firestarter, a compact and expandable fishing pole, several pencils and a glowing orb. The dagger, glowing orb and pencils catch her attention.
Whoever owns this rucksack is some kind of free spirit, an adventurer that likes to explore and hunt in the outdoors. She cannot quite figure out the glowing blue orb. She decides to leave it until she knows for sure what it is. It could be enchanted and dangerous for all she knows. She take the rucksack and detours upstairs to put her ‘journal’ in it and then slide the whole works under the bed. A goofy smile is on her face and she quickly runs down the stairs. She feels free.
Wait. That’s not a good thing. She needs to be more responsible. But the freedom~!
Her next order of business is clear. Checking out Maria Village would satiate that urge to feel ‘free’. Is she imagining it, or is it jogging part of her memory?
Checking out the front door, she sees that in fact there is an attached and enclosed porch to the house. She sees a few knick knacks, but nothing of interest.
She checks out the walkway. It is a dirt path. The buildings look to be extremely rustic being composed of mostly wood. There is a definite pattern and design to the houses, but they lack paint. Most of the wood looks worn. Her memory perks and she knows where she wants to be, the center plaza where there is a fountain.
She finds it.
This is the central market place. There are a few stalls up, but she realizes she has no money. The idea hits her. Something about five hundred marks that Strife had given her. Yet she doesn’t remember it being given to her. She reaches into her pocket, but finds the money isn’t there. For that matter, there should be a set of tarot cards on her person in her other pocket. She doesn’t see it.
She walks here and there, to and from different locations looking around. She hopes she doesn’t attract any unwanted attention, but it seems as if most people are just going about there business.
There is one large store along the main path. There is a main street of sorts with a tavern. There is some kind of dance hall and grain storage area. She also sees the town hall. The rest of the buildings appear to be owned by the populace. They are nothing special to look at; some are larger than others, while others still are small.
After about thirty minutes of walking, she finds herself at the end of the village near a small lake. A rather long dock flows from the shoreline to almost the center of the lake. She reckons the lake is about half a mile across. This is an excellent fishing spot.
Rather than take mainstreet, she walks through some back footpaths. She finds herself lost. After scouring the village again, some of it looks familiar to her, but most of it looks of a different design than she is expecting. At the opposite end of the village opposite the lake, she finds herself around a familiar tree. That tree looks different somehow. Almost younger. She can’t place her finger on it. Her priority after that shifts as she spends most of the morning trying to find Strife’s house again. At last she does.
After finding her way back inside, she leans up against the door and lets herself slide down to the floor. Her feet are sore and her body is tired. Hopefully Strife won’t mind that Sweiza wore her clothing and a set of boots. The boots are soon off next to the door and Sweiza heads for the chair in the study. She intends to read up on the world and maybe gain some new skills while she tries to jog her memory. However, fatigue and sleep soon over take her and the book in her hand drops to the floor.
—
Some hours later, Sweiza finally comes to. Her back hurts. She sat funny in the chair. She goes to yawn. She feels something heavy on her body. Her arms are covered in metal, as is the rest of her body. Strife had said something about behing a Valkyrie. It must be Valkyrie armor. Sweiza wishes it would go away. To her surprise and more importantly convenience, it does.
She goes to stand up with the lack of weight on her. However, she realizes she is standing naked. She lets out a cry at the sight. Strife will not be happy Sweiza lost her clothing. She needs to find it!
The clothing suddenly reappears. Sweiza looks down again in surprise and confusion.
Curiosity and a sudden impulse hits her. She walks up to the study’s table and picks up the book Strife was reading the night before. “Grimoire Furia”, it is a strange title, “Grim Fury?” she thinks to herself. She attempts to tell it to go away, nothing happens. She tries to feel it in her body as an emotion to make it go away. It doesn’t work. She then wishes it would go away to prove a point. It does. She shakes a bit from it. She attempts to ‘bring’ it back, but it doesn’t. Anxiety hits. Strife will not be happy. It should come back the same as it does with the clothing. Again she wishes it would come back, but it doesn’t.
She stands there looking down at the table again. Grief suddenly hits her. This is too much. She’ll deal with this later. She turns around and runs up the stairs escaping the study. She finds herself to the bedroom, jumps into bed with her face burried in the pillow and covers her head with covers.
This day she will hide from, at least for awhile longer.
—
She wakes up, rather she feels her eyes shutter open and she is paralyzed to the bed. She attempts to move to break free of it, but it feels as if ropes are binding her. She shifts to her side. The moon Lokul hangs in the window. She hears a distant howl. She looks away from the moon to the front of the bed. She sees herself staring back at her.
“What is it you desire?”
Confusion sweeps Sweiza. Her sight switches to the red and black haired wolf standing at the foot of the bed. Its eyes glow red as a red aura surrounds it.
The last thing she hears the wolf growling and then a distant howl. She feels sleep suddenly take her and she passes out.
—
Sweiza’s eyes bolt open and she pulls herslef to an immediate sitting position. She looks around the bedroom. It is night. How long had she been out?
She makes her way back to the downstairs. Strife isn’t back.
She helps herself to whatever food she can muster. Strife keeps a number of canned and dry goods, but nothing that is readily edible. Does it all have to be made?
She is forced to try her hand at making bread. It doesn’t go so well. Flour, yeast, powdered milk and water mixed together. She knows enough to put it in the oven. She pulls it out several times taste testing it, but she feels something is missing from it. She forces herself to eat it anyway. Perhaps next time she will refrain from cooking. She then remembers that Strife has a study. Perhaps there is a book on cooking or recipes. That actually seems like a good idea.
She puts the dishes in the sink and cleans them, then hurries to the study. She starts reading through the different titles of books, hoping to find the one she is looking for.
What she finds confuses her. Multiple books as part of a series with the word ‘tome’ in them, one such set is called ‘World Tome’ She checks other titles, such things as ‘arcana’, ‘mythics’, and ‘grimore’ all appear in various titles. Her sight passes by two particular books, “The Elder Edda” and “The Prose Edda”. The latter two books she is familiar with, they were required reading back in school. “The Prose Edda” in particular, is written by a one “Snorri Sturluson”, and shows various ways to write poetry as well as containing different poems and legends concerning the gods (Odin among them) that created the world.
Her eyesight and body take her through different titles; most having to do with enchangements, magic or some kind of sorcery. Just what kind of person is Strife anyway?
At the bookshelf closest to the kitchen and a side exit, she finds the book titles change drastically. Everything from daily living, handwork around the house, how to fix things and then how to cook. That is the one she wants. She looks up once, remembering the grimoire book from earlier. If Strife is a Valkyrie as she says she is, she would know more on how to get the book back. In the meantime she starts looking through the book for the proper way to cook bread. She does find it. She shakes her head and curses her luck at the ingredients she had forgotten. She does have a few days to get it right before Strife returns; perhaps she can surprise her with a loaf of proper bread.
—
Checking through more of the books, Sweiza gets the idea that she might be able to impress Strife with her knowledge on some of them. The one titled ‘FUTHARK - Ruins Arcana’ gets her attention, it is the first one she will memorize. No sooner does she have it off the shelf, when a particular book catches her attention. It has no title. She pulls it from the shelf. It as no title on the cover. She flips it open. It is hand written. She switches to the first page. It reads ‘Alyssa Verdandi’. She checks through it. A number of entries with dates, all hand written. It is a diary.
This is too good to be true!
Sweiza shakes the thought and immediately puts it back on the shelf. She turns around briskly and shuffles back to the red chair. She attempts to read up on Futhar ruins, but her curiosity always comes back to the diary. Two hours pass and she can no longer contain herself. She sets the book on Futhark down and shuffles her way back to the shelf. She looks around for good measure to make sure no one is watching her. Maybe she can figure out some things about Strife and will be able to impress her further. Bah! That is just an excuse. She really wants to know what Strife is like.
And so her nosiness gets the better of her. May Strife show leniency when she finds out!