The office was cold. Blader wished he had his jacket with him, anything to drape over his shoulders and hug close around himself. Every time he was forced to sit in the principal's office, it felt like the cold of Niflheim had been breathed into it, just for him.

Hunching his shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest, Blader sighed dejectedly. No matter what punishment the principal imposed on him, no matter how painful it was when his mother begged him to do better, he always seemed to end up back in this hell of an office. It was all so...inevitable.

Blader hated that word. He hated it with every fiber of his being – but there was nothing he could do about it.

He wasn't even a bad kid. He didn't purposefully do things to get himself in detention or suspended. They just seemed to happen around him and he just got caught up in the aftermath.

But that wasn't any sort of excuse.

"Blader Thrym," the secretary called, looking up from her screen. "Principal Sigrif will see you now."

Reluctantly, Blader stood and marched towards the principal's door. Just before he would have walked into it, the secretary palmed the access button and the door flickered, becoming transparent and insubstantial just long enough for him to walk through before growing solid and opaque again. Once on the other side, he stopped.

Principal Sigrif sat behind his massive desk, looking up at Blader with hard eyes. Only two screens floated before the principal today. One he could tell was his file; he'd seen it up before the principal enough times to know what it looked like by heart, even when viewing it from behind. The other screen, however, wasn't one Blader recognized.

"Thrym," Sigrif said, his deep voice lacking the underlying threat it always carried on talking to Blader. "Have a seat."

Blader resisted the urge to drag his feet as he approached the desk. Perching on the edge of one of the dark, wooden chairs, he rested his hands on his thighs and looked up at the principal. He could see his picture on his floating file, his brown eyes staring out from his angular face. The clean shaven skin in the image was a contrast to the stubble crossing his cheeks now. Blader ran his hand through his dark hair, tousling it further, as he waited for the principal to speak.

"Today was...." Sigrif paused, shaking his head as he held the teenager's gaze. "Loki unacceptable, Thrym."

Loki. Of course. To Sigrif, everything I do is loki.

Ever since the Rebirth, the High King had turned the name "Loki" into an adjective, describing something bad. The High King hadn't been terribly fond of the original being holding that name, and for good reason.

"I know," Blader replied.

Sigrif tapped his keyboard and another screen opened before him. Touching it with his finger, he spun it slowly towards Blader.

It was the footage from one of the school's many cameras.

Blader braced himself as the video began to play.

[----]

2 hours ago

The hallway was bustling with students traveling from one class to another, but Blader knew how best to navigate through the crowds. People gave him the right of way when they noticed it was him walking past them. They tried to keep their motions subtle, but Blader saw the way they tilted their shoulders to make it easier for him to pass, the way they edged just enough away where he wouldn't have to brush against them. They didn't want to be associated with him in any way, even if that association was only bumping into him in the hallway.

The twenty minute slot of time in between Blader's mathematics class and his The Gods: Then and Now class was the worst time of his day. It wasn't long enough to start on his homework, but it was too long to head straight to his next class. So he would wander in the general direction of his next class...and sometimes, things would happen.

Loki things.

"Blader," the guy said, leaning against the wall in the corner, the one empty spot in the hallway. Straight red hair that flopped into his dark blue eyes, with a hawk nose in a thin face, Jorid Racarl was the real loki bad kid in Njordesden Education. Except he never bore any of the responsibility for his schemes.

"No, Jorid," Blader snapped, turning to continue towards his next class. "Whatever it is, I want no part of it."

Jorid shoved off from the wall and quickened his pace to walk beside Blader. "As you wish."

"Go away, Jorid," Blader warned, his voice low and slightly threatening. "Not today." It was too close to the end of the school year, so close to graduation. Blader couldn't risk getting into trouble again; Sigrif had given him a stern warning the last time something had happened, three months ago. Fortunately, Jorid had found some new occupation outside of school and he hadn't had the time to bother Blader like he had before.

"Since when do you run the school?" Jorid retorted. "I don't have to go anywhere, Blader."

Blader grunted, resisting the urge to stop and confront the slightly smaller Jorid face to face. He knew that was what the kid wanted. So he kept walking, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

"I know you're not due to be in class yet," Jorid said, a bit tauntingly. "And I know you'll be in the principal's office again by the end of the day, Blader. It's inevitable. So stop trying to act all injured all of a sudden. It's not going to work."

Blader spun, facing Jorid as annoyance flew across his face. He knew the scrawny kid had won. Not this time, he promised himself. Not this time. He'll pay. I swear it. I don't care why he's acting like a jerk. He has no need to ruin my life just because he's been through hell.

"What do you want, Jorid? Huh? Huh? What do you want?"

The chatter in the hallway ceased as everyone turned towards Blader's raised voice. Jorid twisted his lips into a smirk. He had the boy right where he wanted him and Blader knew it.

"Blader, Blader, Blader," Jorid said, softly. "I want you to listen to me."

Blader stood still for a second, then shook his head. "No, Jorid. No. You won't trick me this time around. You won't. You can't."

"I will," Jorid said, still smirking. "And you know it."

Blader was so angry, he didn't think. He just swung.

Jorid saw it coming. He always did. He simply stepped to the side.

"You can't hit me, Blader. You never could."

But instead of backing off, as he normally did when he missed a punch, Blader moved forward and struck out with his left. His fist smashed into the side of Jorid's face, sending the smaller kid flying across the corridor into the wall.

A gasp rippled through the surrounding crowd. Blader just stared at the dazed Jorid lying on the crowd as he assumed a fighting stance, waiting for the teenager to stand up and say something.

But he didn't. He just looked up at Blader, a slightly astonished look on his face. Then he grinned.

"Blader Thrym?"

The voice came from behind Blader and he tensed. Whenever Ms. Fregya had something to say to him, it was never good.

"You're coming with me to the principal's office. Now."

[----]

The video feed shut off and Sigrif swiped the screen off to the side where it vanished. For a moment, there was silence as the principal just studied Blader. Then he sighed, lifting an eyebrow at the teenager.

"Assaulting another student," he stated. "That is a serious offense, Thrym."

Blader nodded. The fact that Sigrif hadn't preceded "serious" with "loki" just made the words weigh that much heavier on him. "I know."

"There's not much I can do," Sigrif said, his tone almost apologetic. "You have quite a number of offenses against you, Thrym, and I did tell you the last time that you had one more chance. Between assaulting Jorid Racarl today, locking the teachers out of the lounge on your last offense three months ago –"

Which was actually the result of Jorid locking me in the lounge and I was only able to get out via the window.

"– the whole incident concerning the power outage at the beginning of the school year, which I do realize wasn't entirely your fault, Thrym, but still –"

You can bet your paycheck it wasn't my fault.

"– you have quite the list of misdemeanors at this school," Sigrif finished. "I can't accept this, even with your history of...difficulties."

Blader's first reaction was to bristle at Sigrif's reference to his fireshock. That hasn't been a problem for years! Then the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach twisted into a substantial knot as he realized what was coming.

"I'm going to have to expel you from Njordesden Education."

Expel.

The word punched Blader in the gut the way he had socked Jorid in the face. Being expelled was bad. It was loki bad. He wouldn't be able to finish his education, and the mark of getting expelled would always be on his record. But it would also mar his family's honor as well as his own.

I'm going to have to tell my mother about this.

Blader felt his fingers tightening into fists as he pressed the soles of his boots against the elegant wooden floorboards of the office. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

"I know being expelled is not what you want, Thrym," Sigrif said. "I know you don't want that on your record. So I'm going to give you a second chance."

Blader looked at the principal with wide, eager eyes. "Yes! Thank you, sir, thank you for not –"

Sigrif held up his hand, his eyes pitying. It was a look Blader had grown used to receiving for the past eight years, but he still hated to see it given to him. "You may not thank me, Thrym, once you hear what the second chance is."

Blader sat back in his seat, furrowing his brow. "Sir?"

Sigrif touched the second, strange screen that he had pulled up alongside Blader's file. Turning the screen around, he nudged it in his direction. Blader reached out a hand to guide the floating screen to a stop in front of him before studying its contents.

Njordesden's Valkyrie has yet to recruit an einherjar in the eight years since Thor's Bridge.

Blader's heart almost stopped as he saw those words. The einherjar...that was Sigrif's second option? The einherjar?

"Enlisting?" Blader stammered. "That's...that's my second chance?"

Sigrif pressed his lips together, silent as he held Blader's quizzical gaze. "I'm afraid so, Thrym. You can either enlist in the einherjar, or be expelled."

Blader sat there in stunned silence. The einherjar. Enlisting in the einherjar, the Reborn Cosmos' military, meant the Reenactment. The trials that thinned the herd of new recruits to ensure only the best made it officially into the einherjar. His principal wanted him to enlist and go through that? He eyed the screen again.

As always, the Reenactment will subject the recruits to many tests drawn from the days of past in order to determine if they are of honor and worthy to serve the Reborn Cosmos.

"Your choice," Sigrif added. "I'll give you a day to decide. You may go now."

Wordlessly, Blader rose from the chair. He almost felt like he should say something to Sigrif, but "thank you" didn't exactly seem in order here. So he just left the office, walking out into the hallway and turning left to head for the exit, only stopping at his locker to grab his jacket.

Blader didn't even glance up to look for clouds as he normally did; he just headed for the Transriot stop. He broke into a run, moving as quickly as possible with his screencase bouncing against his back.

The stop wasn't crowded, being a good couple minutes before the rest of the school let out. Blader stood at the metal bar, placing the palm of his hand against the top so it could read his heat signature. It was the only stop which had the bar, due to the school's policy about keeping track of their exiting students. Adjusting his jacket, which he had thrown on haphazardly, he waited for the Transriot.

Only a couple other people stood at the stop, their hands also touching the bar. It wasn't long before the Transriot pulled in to the stop, the long, hovering vehicle's doors opening for its passengers.

Blader followed the others into the Transriot, touching his palm against the sensor by the door. It flashed green as he stepped aboard, taking his seat by the open window.

The transport moved smoothly out from the stop. Blader stared out as they flew through the town of Njordesden, watching the buildings, streets, and peoples move past. He saw the old state hall, the merchants' buildings, and the warriors' court. The open marketplace was closing up, this time of day, with the venders packing up their stalls.

Blader pursed his lips. The Reenactment. That was his only choice, enlisting in the einherjar, the military, in order to avoid being expelled. In order to save his honor.

Could he do it?

The Transriot pulled into the stop nearest his house and Blader hopped out, waving a thank you to the driver. Steeling his nerves, he strode down the path towards his family's farm. The horses grazing in the pasture barely noticed him as he jogged down towards the house, a knot forming in his stomach.

I'll have to tell Mama.

/**/

So there you have it, the first chapter of Einherjar! What do you think of Blader, and the choice handed to him?

Hope you enjoyed it, and please vote and comment!

Skylar Wittenborn