As she awoke, she sensed a gentle tug on her soul, beckoning her from a distant place.

"It was a feeling she thought she had lost forever, not since her Father had fallen in battle."

As she prepared to answer the call, she made a concerted effort to gather herself. Confusion clouded her mind as she struggled to recollect the circumstances. Her last recollection was riding alongside her siblings into the heat of battle. Yet, the memories seemed disjointed and elusive, causing her head to throb with increasing intensity.

She couldn't recall the names or faces of her siblings. Still, she felt a profound certainty that these hazy memories were more tangible than her own awakening, more concrete than the bloodstains on her hands and clothes, and more vivid than the air filling her lungs.

She sensed a profound feeling of dislocation as if she were a traveler out of sync with her own timeline. There was an unsettling awareness that fate had surged far beyond what she had ever imagined possible and that she was now at risk. It wasn't a conscious realization but rather a gnawing sensation deep within her, a pervasive sense of hopelessness. She knew she had to take action, to fight once more, but this time, she had to do it alone. There was an unshakable certainty that she was truly alone, in a distant realm, marooned in a period fraught with hostility.

She tried to gather her bearings, but nothing was familiar; she was surrounded by a blanket of wildflowers in a meadow. The sun painted golden streaks across the sky as it descended towards the horizon. She closed her eyes, listening to the symphony of nature surrounding her - the chirping of crickets, the rustling of leaves, and the distant call of a lone bird. At that moment, again, she felt a deep sense of urgency wash over her, a feeling of not being exactly where she was meant to be, where she needed to be.

Because she was needed, if she knew anything, it was that. The pull at her soul was becoming more apparent and substantial. She knew what she had to do now. She understood her calling, the same one she always had, the only one she would ever have. She stood up, dusted herself, opened her wings, and allowed the pull to guide her. She was going to face her fate.

She was going to figure out what was going on, start anew in this strange, new reality, welcome destiny, and if it was to be her doom, she would fight. She would fight again as her proud heritage demanded, the only way she knew how.

With a rustle of feathers, she took flight. Soaring high above the trees, the wind whispered through her ears, almost as if talking to her, as she glided effortlessly through the sky. The world stretched below her in an intricate patchwork of greens and browns, the sun painting the landscape in warm hues. She felt the thrill of freedom, each beat of her wings carrying her further away from the worries and troubles that plagued her on the ground.

She could see what looked like roads, but they were different from those she knew; they seemed to be made from a single stone, a single stone that stretched for leagues on end, connecting to more 'single-stone' roads. Oh! There were trees on the side of these roads, too, but singular trees, not like a forest, were connected by a type of rope she had never seen before, and as dusk came, these trees lit up. Just how much seidr would that need? And what kind of seidrmadr could afford the expense of energy?

She flew over farms and houses, even towns. She saw carts that could move without any kind of animal pulling them, and she understood that this was a new reality—a new world. Maybe... but those thoughts were not needed right now. Right now, she had a mission, and the pull on her soul was becoming greater as she traveled the sky. She was getting closer.

She went onwards and onwards until she reached what looked like a big meeting hall. There, many different types of horseless carts were placed in a roofless stable, also paved with the same kind of 'single-stone' the roads were made of. She saw people going in and out of the carts and of the meeting hall.

The Hall itself was alight, its wooden boards full of strange runes that she had never seen before, runes that clearly were not of power, yet somehow were alight and glowed in the 'dark' of night; she thought that this Hall must be a significant place, where the great peoples of these lands gathered, since daylight was inside it, how could they have that? Who could create such a thing? It was more preposterous since she could not feel a trace of 'Seidr" inside it.

But that was unimportant; what mattered was that her fate awaited her inside the big meeting hall.

As she flew near it, she could hear screams and yells and felt the excitement of people, the excitement of battle. Maybe there was a duel going on? That tracked; she would not be feeling such a strong pull otherwise.

She went into a never-before-seen development; in front of her eyes, more than a hundred souls were gathered, enthralled by what was happening inside an elevated stage that was encircled by what looked like a set of three ropes around it, four corners holding the ropes in place, two large men fighting inside it, with a third one that must have been a judge of some sort, probably so that the proceedings would remain honorable, or maybe even discern the right moment in which first blood was spilled?

Nobody noticed her; of course, they wouldn't; she was not here encased in mortal coil; she was not here as a warrior, nor even as a woman, so how could these mortal men and women notice her? So she went closer and hovered over the stage, her wings flapping gently, just enough to remain on top of the warriors.

Two more men were on the stage, each protecting a corner of it. They were probably the sponsors of the two fighting inside it.

As she tried to understand what she witnessed, the bald, large man dressed in all-black leather grabbed the blonde youth. He tossed him against one of the corners of the contraption they were fighting inside. The man in black appeared to be a master of war since he threw the youngling with ease, gaining her approval. This was probably a dispute of vengeance; she would wager her feathers that the clan that the two older men in black were part of had attacked the clan of the younglings since why would the orange and white clan send cubs to fight at a meeting hall against seasoned warriors? If not, only because they had lost a war and lost the older men in the process?

It was obvious that the orange and white clan was fighting for reparations or even for their right to remain a clan. This was turning out to be very interesting for her.

As she was musing on the reasons for this clearly unfair fight, the bald man in black grabbed the youngling. He wedged him on top of the corner he had been slammed into, again demonstrating his superior strength and the sorry state of the cub in orange. The man in black then proceeded to climb in front of the youngster, grabbed him by the head and waist, and in a move of never before in her life seen strength, stood up on the topmost rope while holding the youngling upside down; it looked as if the man on top was standing on the shoulders of the man below, with the only difference that the youngling was not standing at all, his legs were upside down. In contrast, his head rested on the man in black' shoulders.

They stood like that for what seemed like minutes until the man in black allowed himself to fall backward, delivering the youngling's body into the center of the stage with a resounding BAM.

That must have been it; the young representative of the orange clan must be dead after that vicious display of strength by the man of the black-clad clan, if not dead, at least crippled or injured beyond repair. The man in black stood up and immediately proceeded to fall on top of the boy as if to restrain him; then, the judge or lord went to his knees and started hitting the floor of the stage, one time, two times, when the unbelievable happened.

The boy warrior threw his hand in the air, the lord stopped hitting the ground, and the man in black grabbed his head and looked around in disbelief while the crowd exploded in cheers!

Was this youth blessed by an unknown deity? She could feel no seidr nor any divine meddling in the boy. Was he the reason she was here?

The young man stood up, if only barely, while the man in black was already running, using the ropes as a slingshot so he could savagely ram the young one. But the young one noticed this in time for him to duck below the man's arm. The man kept running, using the ropes on the other side to avoid losing momentum and catapulted back to the boy, who was doomed now.

The boy jumped high into the air, extending his arms as if wings, and delivered a kick with both feet into the man in black's chest, sending him reeling in pain into the floor of the stage.

She was ecstatic. She had never witnessed a will to live so strong. It made more sense now why the orange clan had sent this prime warrior. Had he been away during the war? Was he not allowed to participate? Or was it a ploy from the black clan to wait until he was away from land and family to attack?

She was starting to feel angry toward the black-clad man, even though she was not supposed to feel anything for anyone on a battlefield. She wanted the young man to at least escape with his life. The man in black was clearly the superior fighter anyway, so he would do nicely for her purpose instead.

The youth started walking to the corner, where the other, far larger, far stronger-looking youngster stood, his hand extended towards the battered warrior.

The young warrior then jumped elegantly, extending his length, desperately trying to reach his clanmate's extended hand. Was this a new custom? She thought as the giant of a man jumped over the ropes, over his fellow clansman, and started towards the man clad in black, who was still face down, nursing his chest; the new giant warrior grabbed the bald man by the scruff of his neck and lifted him, turned him to face each other, took him by the neck lifting him as high as the reach of his arm only to then slam him against the floor of the stage, with such force that made the two men outside the ropes jump afterward.

It was a champion, a beast, maybe even a berserker! It was then that she remembered.

She remembered another warrior, one foretold in her time, a peerless existence that ravaged the battlefields, decimating armies and kingdoms alike; it reminded her of 'her' Arngrim.

Arngrim, she would call him that now, was slamming the powerless body of the man clad in black back onto the floor, having already taken care of the other clansman. He then looked back to what now, after paying closer attention to their faces, looked like his relative while grinning.

Arngrim placed his foot on the man's chest, like a great hunter would put himself on top of a well-earned kill in a hunt or a warrior would humiliate the defeated on a battlefield. She loved how everything was proceeding. She, just like the crowd, found herself clapping and cheering. She moved to a corner of the Hall. She watched how the judge/lord returned to his knees and slammed his palm against the floor three times, only to stand up and raise Arngrim's hand to the air, signaling him as the winner. Glory to his clan! She found herself yelling.

The battered youth went over and stood next to Arngrim, raising his hand. Another man, who looked like a banner bearer or a high-status servant, placed ornate belts on both youths' waists. They had clearly won their honor back and spoils of war to boot.

But the others from the Black Clan were not dead; they stood up and left. What was going on?

She followed a group of youngsters who were also clad in orange and white since they must be clansmen and women from the warrior's clan. She found them reunited with the young warriors at the back of the Hall, where they talked for a bit until they separated. Arngrim stayed behind with a red-headed woman while the battered youngster went into one of those horseless carts along with an Amazonian woman who reminded her of her sisters.

The pull on her soul grew in intensity, forcing her to leave her Anrgrim behind and follow the horseless cart.

She flew along the cart back to what looked like the clan's lands. It was a big farming land with dozens of horses, dozens of houses, and big buildings whose functions she did not know.

Suddenly, the night turned into a day for a second or two, and thunder resounded all over; how could it be? She knew 'he' was dead, so how could someone else produce such light and thunder?

She followed the battered warrior through the night. He ran towards the forest, stopping only to talk to what looked like a rectangular piece of metal, from which voices came out in answer. She still could not feel any seidr at all. What was this sorcery?

Inside the forest, she saw the warrior fight with a stick that fired molten slugs of metal against two warriors that were almost twice his size, killing one and crippling another.

But she already knew how everything would play out. Her purpose became apparent, and her memories slowly came back. She just needed to wait as she saw her Arngrim dispatch the second goliath using another of those 'fire sticks.'

She saw the large man remove the even larger attacker; she saw his desperate attempts to nurse his fellow clansman's wounds, but she knew it was useless.

As the young warrior's life ended, so did her duty begin anew.

She stood over the young man, her body glowing with luminescence, energy pouring forth from her eyes and mouth as she entered a trance as old as the world itself. Her clothes transformed into armor, without a trace of blood or dirt, in a ritual not witnessed for ages. A silver sword and a golden shield materialized in her hands. The feathers on her wings gleamed ethereally as they began to descend onto the lifeless body of the young man. She spoke the ancient oath, defying Heaven, Hel, and Destiny because that was her calling - to eternally defy fate, to grant mortal men a second chance. She sang:

“Hojotoho! Heiaha! Heiaha!”

"Thus I salute thee, Oh Fallen"

"Heiaha! Heiaha!"

"Thus I salute thee, Oh slain."

"Rise again, ye mighty warrior."