A dream: You find yourself on the march, with several dozen soldiers. They wear chain shirts and simple helms. Great-axes slung over their shoulders and swords at their sides, with round shield over their backs. They are moving, together all in the same direction. They don't speak to each other and yet they don't really seem to be trying to be quiet in their movements either. As you look around the group it seems more a nervous energy that silences their tongues. As you look down at yourself you seem to be dressed the same as them carrying the same equipment. No matter what your consciousness seems to want to do it seems as if this body will act on its own and you are simply to watch through this one's eyes. As you look across the group all seem geared the same, save one. The person is several paces ahead of you and seems to be leading this group in its march. She wears some kind of banded plate armor and carries a large mace. The band continues on its path in near silence for some time. As the sun begins to rise on the hills to the left of the group she leads them up the slope of that hill so that they find themselves in some kind of shade as they continue. Then she holds up her hand and the group comes to a halt. She raises and points the mace to the other side of the glen. Through the trees you can see another group of men. They seem to be moving in your direction. Silently as if a play rehearsed a thousand times your group begins to stand shoulder to shoulder with one another their shields pulled down in front of all of them. Axes held in the other hand readying to do combat. A wall of shields forms on your side with only the woman leader behind the group. Ready to give direction to your little band. The other group in turn moves in your direction and likewise forms a their own wall of shields and ax. You hold your ground halfway up this hill with the foe at the bottom slowly moving in your direction up the hill. Up and up they come then suddenly with a rush the group comes charging in your direction. You and the men hold and shield strikes shield and ax meets shields in an all too familiar, Crack. Both sides push and shove in an attempt to brake the line of the other. Neither side seems to be making much progress for several minutes until those who encroached on your group slowly retreat and you and yours holding your position allow them to fall back. You quickly reform filling any gap made by any wounded or those who have been exhausted. The enemy too reforms and their wall comes together once again 10 yards or so from you and yours. You look quickly over your shoulder and see the leader this woman on one knee behind your line, is she injured? You finding yourself on the edge of the shieldwall fall back to this figure. You begin to feel this sense of dread. If she is lost, all is lost. Her head is down and her arms seem limp at her side one hand still clutching at the mace. You quickly look her over, one side then the other and see no impact mark or damage to the armor that would mean she would be so injured, no blood on the armor. You crouch down slightly to get a better look at her. A hand quickly meets you on the shoulder. Stopping you. As the helmed head begins to rise you hear only a single word, uttered in just above a whisper, "Charge". First once then again you hear the words. Like a shot the figure looks up at you. Eyes like burning white coals stare back at you. The air begins to feel like lightning as you turn away and back toward the group you see over your shoulder as white light begins to form around her at first all around her enveloping her in a bright white light then beginning to coalesce , silvery wings of the brightest light form at her shoulders. She seems to jump into the air the wings of burning light unflapping seem to lift her in the air for a moment she seems to be reaching up into the air the mace held high above her head. The sunlight that begins to crest the hill reflects off her and with a booming voice unlike anything you have hear you hear the word once more. "Charge" she seems to glide forward a short ways, then like a bolt of lightning she smashes down into the formation of the enemy. Shields and men flying in all directions. You and yours seeing their formation broke follow her into the fray. When you arrive the figure stands in a gap between what is now two groups of the enemy forces. She quickly raises her mace into the air and a light as if from the sky falls down apon the two groups and men and shields alike are set alight. They break and scatter in all directions. With a second's time his figure now bolts across the field after them. Her feet do not touch the ground as the brilliant wings of light still allow her speed well beyond what you could imagine. She flys after them one by one striking them down. As the last of them fall to both her and you and your companions her feet once again touch the ground for the first time. As her feet land the brilliant light of the wings begin to fade into nothing. The surprise on the face of those around you is obvious. They all seem frozen for a moment not sure how to react. None move towards her and none away. A murmur seems to come from the group. You hear a whisper from someone standing next to you. "Valkyrie" the whisper comes. Then silence from the rest. This figure turns to face the group the bright burning light of her eyes that had met yours now fading into a softer light. A slight if not awkward smile spreads across the face. The warriors around you begin to shuffle and every man in turn begins to kneel. First the ones with gray starting to touch their hair, those with a greater respect for the tales of old. But every man in his turn follows. Kneeling to this unknown power, to this legend and saga turned flesh before them.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

You awake.