Tonight would be the first immersion of darkness they would have since summer had fully taken root, finally heralding the season's incipient decline. She could almost feel the shadows lengthening beyond that which had so long been denied them. Last night's twilight had fallen almost imperceptibly, but this eventide was already far duskier than its predecessor. 

There was already a chilling piquancy in the air.

Reaching down towards her feet, she plucked at a silvery dandelion ball wedged amidst the long grass, and blew at it gently. The white, tufted seedlings sailed instantly along the wind towards the blackening horizon.

The towering bank of clouds in the west seemed to reach towards the sky's zenith, further blotting out the heavens with its sooty mantle, where the stars were already blinking into view. There was no array of reds, golds, blues, and violets that banded across the sky this evening as ought to have accompanied the sun's disappearance. Just a wall of clouds and encroaching nightfall.

When Heida turned to leave the cattle where they were resting, she was met with empty silence, Brenna and the others having by now returned to the house no doubt. But as she approached the longhouse, Epona rushed out, furiously searching the grounds at Heida's back. When she discovered the hushed environs to be as vacant, save for the birds and livestock, as Heida herself had found them, her ire soon evaporated and dread discharged itself across her features.

"Where is Brenna, lass?" She grabbed hold of Heida's arms with whitened fingers, dark eyes angled up to Heida's face.

"I thought she had retired." Heida patted Epona's hand placatingly, silently rolling her eyes at the woman's propensity to obsess over her only child. She was a tenacious cynic who pestered and scolded her daughter incessantly and needlessly. "Perhaps she is with Renic."

However, this thought nowise becalmed her. She became, conversely, all the more agitated. "Considering that he and his demoniac brother too are absent," was her pithy response, "I cannot claim any relief from that possibility."

"And Aila? Where is she?" Usually their chief was the only one capable of assuaging Epona.

Epona bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest. "I never know where she disappears to of a nighttime." The falsehood slipped easily from her lips and her one eye twitched perceptibly.

What are you not telling me?! Where could Aila be? But Epona was a closed-mouth beldame of few words, and it was therefore useless to pry. The trees would talk long before Epona did. Very few people, save those that lived here, took the time to converse with her longer than was necessary. She was a frightening woman. Aila had told her that Epona had once been very pretty and her features not so twisted with acerbity and bile as it was now. 

Poor Brenna. "Let me search the woodland nearby," Heida offered, eager to mollify Epona and perhaps save her friend the trouble of being discovered by her overwrought mother. "I believe I know where to look."

Epona looked up at her hopefully. "You're a good girl, Heida. Thank you." She availed herself of another apprehensive look around before adding, "But do not tarry long; this is not the night to be out alone." She pointed up into the firmament at Heida's back.

Heida glanced around to see the moon rising full and heavy over the horizon. "Tis just Máni."

Epona's jaw tightened when she faced her again. "No," said she. "It is so much more than that. Go and find my daughter and get home immediately."

By Frigg, but the woman is confounding. Heida nevertheless nodded obediently and hurried off towards the jagged tree-line of conifers. In this light she thought they resembled teeth jutting out from the earth. The color was nearly gone from the forest. Only the moon illuminated their muted, crimson spires.

"I shall search the north fields!" she heard Epona shout from far away. Heida's legs had already widened the space between them with the exceptional speed that was wholly unique to her.

The woods were impossibly quiet and dark as she passed beneath the limbs of spruce and firs, treading gently over the fallen needles and leaves. Where had the crickets and night fowl gone? Usually they were wont to sing, and it was early yet.

But only one excoriating sound echoed morbidly through the quiet. Heida raised her widened glare to search out the boughs and canopy above. Her eyes instantly fixed on two massive ravens perched stoically beside one another from their heightened points of espial. One of them released another loud caw that was instantly mimicked by its compeer, as if in bespoken agreement.

Trespasser, they seemed to say.

She was instantly disturbed by their continued staring, their bodies frozen except for the two beady eyes that followed her progress. It was dark, and yet she saw them clearly, taking for granted that it was not natural for mortal eyes to dispel the shadows and adhere perfectly to every detail.

Heida continued walking, relieved that the ravens appeared unconcerned by her ever growing distance, loth as they were to move from their comfort. But her eyes nonetheless did not stray from them, lest they should take flight and give chase. Would that she had been watching where she was going instead.

"Oomph!" She collided with a barrier. At first she mistook it for a tree, but realized quickly — since her eyes were still shuttered from the impact — that boles were not made of leather.

When Heida had blinked her confusion away, she stood facing a very tall woman dressed in warrior's garb, her breastplate molded to her powerful torso, and her thick vambraces stretched across her forearms. She seemed to be wearing a long-sleeved, white tunic beneath her armor, a leather belt securing her broadsword to her hips. Although she was dressed in masculine attire, her trousers shoved into fur-lined boots and wrappings, the raiments were of excellent quality, and Heida thought her perhaps the most breathtaking woman she had ever encountered.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice husky with awe. No commoner could afford the gleaming weaponry this one possessed.

The lady set her shield to rest against her thigh, her wrist positioned casually atop it, as she cocked her head in silent consideration of Heida. "I might ask you the same question, child." Her lips pursed condescendingly, her eyes glacial.

"Heida," said she in reply the strange being's brusque retort. This must be a shield-maiden like Aila!

"Heida who?"

"I do not know." This was becoming one of the strangest colloquies of her life. "Nobody. I am the daughter of nobody." She had no kin. She was the child of no man.

"Nobodysdóttir?" The woman's laugh was mirthless. "You are more of a somebody than even the nobles who scorn you, Nobodysdóttir."

"What do you mean?" Her hurt lurched excitedly into her throat. "Do you know me?!"

"I know exactly who you are."

"Then who am I?" Heida took a step forward, scrutinizing every detail of the woman's lineaments.

They were winsome, and yet there was a chilling quality to the angles of her face — a hardness. She, therefore, durst not step closer, for she wouldn't put it past the stranger to cut her down; such was the misanthropic glint in her eyes.

"Brynja's daughter. You are Brynjasdóttir."

Confusion beclouded Heida's stare. "And who is she?"

The shield-maiden's smile abruptly cracked her jaw apart as she chuckled, the effect utterly devoid of warmth. "I am she."

"My mother," Heida breathed, moving closer. Her hands were suddenly trembling with the need to embrace the stranger regardless of their unfamiliarity.

"No," Brynja corrected succinctly and held up a hand as if to ward her off. "Your mother is Aila."

"I do not understand."

"I am no mother, girl." That strange humorless smirk dissipated as quickly as it had come. "I am that which brings death; not life."

But Heida could control her yearning no longer, no matter that the woman's words were stony, and abruptly closed the distance between then, wrapping her arms fiercely around her mother. She knew the truth of Brynja's words! She too was tall and her hair also the pale hue of moonlit silver. This is my mother!

However, steely hands instantly fastened to Heida's arms and wrenched them ruthlessly from around the waist she had enfolded them in. 

"Keep your distance, girl. I will not be so kind the next time."

That was kindness?! She staggered back stupidly, her mind seemingly dislocated from her body. The disappointment that thence stole into Heida's breast was sharp and as bitter as wormwood. "I have dreamt of meeting you my whole life." Her voice hitched. A single tear alighted from her lid and journeyed south where it pooled betwixt her cold lips. "I had never imagined how dissatisfying this moment would be; how cruel and forbidding you would be."

"I am sorry for it." Brynja's countenance revealed nothing. A face of lifeless iron that thereby swiftly contradicted her words.

"No you certainly are not. Why did you abandon me?"

"I thought that was obvious?"

Heida's brow furrowed.

"I have told you. I am no mother."

"And yet you still sought me out for a particular reason." Heida wiped her cheeks, steeling herself for more of the woman's abrupt and heartless revelations. "If not to know or love me, then what?"

How utterly compendious she had been in appraising Heida of that most treasured and long denied knowledge — now so veritable cheapened by the curt bestowal. But that was only one half of what she wished to know. Who was her father? Was he still alive? Did he know about her?!

"I did seek you out, yes." Brynja's eyes became suddenly narrowed as she lifted them into the trees whither the two ravens were still chattering softly amongst themselves. "But I risk the wrath of my maker in coming here." The anger radiated off Brynja as she once again regarded Heida. "Still and all, I came."

"Why?" Heida made no effort to stop the tears that brewed and fell without surcease, nor could she prevent the disillusionment and disgust from infusing her words. She had been dealt a fierce blow. She would rather have had Arnar kick her senseless again than hear what she had just heard.

"Never mind that yet. Why are you here?!"

Heida frowned. In the forest? "I am looking for Brenna."

"Howbeit, you seek another just as assiduously as your sister." At receiving no confirmation one way or the other, she craned her head back to study the stars as if perhaps measuring the time or looking for something in particular. "The Eater of Flesh."

"Roth?"

"Aye, that one."

"It seems they are all the family I have. I merely want to assure myself that they are all safe."

Perhaps they had gone home by now, but she doubted it. Roth and Renic were known to disappear on a whim and stay away for hours. That was their prerogative as full grown men. Brenna, however, was acting out of character.

"Leave here, Heida. Find a new home. Marry whomever you must, but go," Brynja said. Though she spake the words quietly, there was grave implication in her glare; a repository of meaning. When Heida shook her head, more in confusion than actual refusal, Brynja exhorted her again. "Please, you cannot stay here! This clan is cursed."

"No. I cannot leave!"

And that was all that was needed for Brynja to clench her jaw in frustration, the shadows on her face further hardening her demeanor as large, black wings promptly unfurled at her back. "But you live amongst monsters," said she.

Heida stared dumbly, eyes affixed to each stygian plume as the creatures's wings brushed the ground and flapped angrily before she tucked them back in. There was no mistaking now that Brynja was indeed an unearthly woman. To say that she lived amongst monsters was comically bizarre. "Apparently, I was whelped by one too."

However, talk of monsters, if indeed there were any, was not what interested or held Heida in thrall: her mother did. She finally knew a little more about herself and sought to know more. The gaping hole amidst the warps and wefts of her story were a little less snarled. Not as mysterious now. Or perhaps even more so, depending on how one thought to look at it. 

Whatever Brynja thought, the world was filled with monsters and she was, therefore, as safe here as any place. But she had only one mother; and who knew how long the woman would stay. And there were yet too many questions.

"You are either brave or foolhardy to stay." Brynja clucked her tongue scornfully. "Mayhap both." She shook her head, resigned. "Then take this, you little fool." She reached inside her breastplate and lifted something over her head before holding it out to Heida by the leather strap it dangled from.

"What is it?" The ornament was clearly some sort of amulet, for it had been hanging around Brynja's neck.

It was round as a shield, no bigger than a woman's palm, and within the circle were two ravens standing eye to eye inside a sun. The reverse was, at first, exactly the same, the ravens mirrored here as well, except that there was no sun but a moon surrounding them instead. And at the bottom of the amulet a strange little cross jutted from the disc. Enveloping both the sun and moon either side were identical, curious inscriptions, the runes beautifully carved:

Daughter of Sól bears the sun shield—

And walks between the worlds with light.

Death will speak to she that hearkens,

And warn against the teeth of night.

"That is your birthright — and the only bestowal I can ever offer you, daughter. That," she said, pointing to the amulet, "and your somatic endowments are all you will have from the woman who birthed you."

"Endowments?" Heida asked, yet distracted by the symbols, the periapt still clasped reverently in her hand.

Brynja, growing impatient, approached her and thereat took the liberty of putting it around Heida's neck without preamble. "Your speed, your strength, and agility. Even your senses are otherworldly, despite the mortal heart that warms your blood." They were almost eye to eye, like the ravens in the talisman, Brynja only slightly taller. "Those endowments."

As soon as the heavy, silver disc rested against her breast, she heard a strange, faint susurrus from within — unintelligible voices whispering their secrets into her inner ear. "What does this thing do?" Try as she might, she could not understand the murmurs.

"It will protect you...from them."

"Them?"

"The wolves!"

She rarely saw any wolves in the forest of late, but she said naught that might further vex this... woman? What was she? A valkyrie? Either way, she had so much she still wanted to ask her.

"One more thing. A warning. Since you will not take yourself elsewhere and make a new life far from here, I caution you to choose wisely." Brynja lifted her shield back up, her bicep barely straining with the effort. "I have conferred with the Norns, despite the Alfather's displeasure, but it was the very least I could do for you."

"I do not understand, Brynja."

"Your heart is divided; to your own detriment. On one hand rests a steady and dependable love, calm as a midsummer breeze." She then transferred her narrowed gaze to her other flattened palm, as if weighing Heida's future. "But on the other writhes a passion forceful enough to cleave the spirit — tempestuous, harrowing and wild. You may choose between that which will vouchsafe peace and warmth; or the all-consuming fervor with consequences enough to change the fabric of this world and the next."

Heida was riveted, but too overwhelmed to speak.

"Which one shall it be?" Brynja held out both her fists and, opening the right, she said, "Summer?" The fingers of the left were then hesitantly unlocked, presage thick in the air. "Or Winter?"

"I do not..."

"I caution you, the latter will mean you must forfeit a part of yourself as I have done. Does the reward outweigh the price?"

The ravens gave a series of peremptory, harrowing squawks that instantly disturbed Brynja.

"Choose wisely!" She said again, backing away.

"Wait! Who is my father?!"

"I have interfered far too much and have paid dearly for it." She watched the identical birds swoop down threateningly before they disappeared into the night. "He is displeased," she said with a sigh.

Who is? "Please! My father's name!"

"We are all Odin's children, in the end."

"Do not leave me! I want to know who my kin are! I still have so many questions!" Though this being's callous treatment of her was such that her tears were senseless and wasteful, Heida could not help the bereavement that lashed at her breast.

"Do not mourn what you never had in me, girl; you already know your kin..." Her black, giant wings once again stretched out, but this time the power they wielded, as they thrashed furiously at the ground, propelled her into the air like an arrow. "Farewell, Heida." And then she too was gone; like the ravens before her.

Gods! Brenna has been right all along! "Brenna!" She started from her bemusement. I must find her!

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