The sun began to rise only to see all the new recruits marching towards Yggdrasil. Dressed in a new, clean, dull grey training tunic, Blader walked in between Wolfsted and Sodull, Erik on the other side of Sodull, swords and shields hanging on their backs. Skalfi and Vandri were two rows ahead of them.

No one spoke. The morning was cool, the grass damp with dew. A light breeze blew as the sky began to lighten with the approach of the sun. The Reenactment was about to begin.

Breakfast that morning had been quick but substantial, the recruits allowed a helping of seconds for the first time since arriving. Finding food wasn't guaranteed once the Reenactment started. Nothing was guaranteed, come to think of it.

Master Utan called for a halt as Blader's unit reached the edge of the root basin. All the units stood in a line, staring up at Yggdrasil as it towered before them. For most of the recruits, this was the first time they had been this close to the Reborn Tree, the only exceptions being Wolfsted, Skalfi, and Blader. But their awe was tempered by tension as the first unit was called forward to descend into the root basin and approach the trunk of the tree.

Blader took slow breaths to keep himself calm and collected, his eyes trained on Yggdrasil. It wouldn't be long before his unit was called to enter the Reenactment and he would be in survival mode. He started to wonder what trials he would face, once inside, and then squashed those thoughts. He needed to focus and be ready for anything.

We are forced to endure trials from the days of past.

His father's words rang in his mind as the second unit was called down into the basin. Wolfsted shifted, once, and Sodull clenched and unclenched his fists. Blader took another breath.

Every single Reenactment ends the same way. Ragnarok.

Ragnarok holds an irrevocable place in the memory of the days of past, and as such, the gods felt it should be engraved on our hearts with the heat of fire and the strength of ice. So Ragnarok is the crown of the Reenactment, ensuring all einherjar have to endure it in order to serve. It is the finale of the trials. All surviving warriors end up on the plain of Vigrid and have to live through the carnage of the end of the first world, in order to understand.

"Unit 232! Move out!"

Automatically, Blader started forward with the rest of his unit as Utan's words broke the silence, the recruits descending the slope into the root basin and walking toward the root nest. Passing underneath the roots that arced over their heads, they approached the trunk of Yggdrasil, the wide, scarred tree seeming to stretch for miles in each direction.

Master Utan led them into a small clearing among the roots, hidden from outside eyes by the closeness of the root growth. Once they were all inside, he pivoted to face them.

"This is the end of the line, recruits. The Reenactment starts now, for you. Listen to all the seer has to tell you and live and die honorably." With that, he gave them a curt nod and strode out of the clearing.

There was uncomfortable silence after he left as the recruits waited for something to happen. It felt like a lifetime but was only about a minute before a soft voice spoke. "Good morning, recruits."

A woman stepped out of the roots on the other side of the clearing. Her face was wrinkled, her hair was wavy and black, streaked with grey, and her dark green eyes appeared old, like she'd seen many more years than her face seemed to suggest. She was clothed in a long, white dress that touched the ground, covering her feet. A dark cloak was draped over her shoulders.

Blader's eyes widened. She must be one of the seers of Yggdrasil, who were charged with trying to read the future. They were the ones who oversaw the Reenactment, both protecting it from outside interference and summoning the rekkr to populate the representation of the days of past. They were in charge of testing the recruits for honor, courage, and strength.

"Today you will enter the Reenactment, to test your potential to be einherjar," the seer intoned, her voice low. "This ritual is based on our history, of the memories from the days of past, before Loki led the Old Cosmos into fire and ruin. The High King needs to see your ability to make it through such dangers that we have seen before in order to ensure your dedication to prevent them from happening again."

The seer walked forward, lifting her hands up as the light suddenly dimmed. "You all know our history," she said, a thick mist filling the clearing and surrounding the recruits. "Ginnungagap was first, filling the void between Muspelheim and Niflheim. The collision of fire and ice created life, leading to the Nine Worlds of the Old Cosmos, their reborn counterparts still with us today. The gods reigned over the Cosmos, Odin at their head, but they all knew the worlds were destined to perish in Ragnarok. There was no way to avoid it; so they prepared.

"Odin built up an army of einherjar, undead soldiers to stand beside him and fight in Ragnarok. And fight they did, until the worlds were lit ablaze and the World Tree, our Yggdrasil, fell. Silence covered our universe."

As the seer spoke, the mist took form, illustrating her words. It showed fire and ice colliding, showed the einherjar drawn from the battlefield by Valkyries, and displayed Odin sitting in Valhalla among his warriors. Then a quick, blurred image of Ragnarok, the plain of Vigrid covered in blood. With her last words, the fire rippling on the mist and surrounding the falling Yggdrasil went out in a puff of smoke and the mist dissipated.

"And then...the Cosmos was reborn, given a second start. Eight of the gods had been destined to lead this Cosmos forward, their new High King Baldor, son of Odin and former victim of Loki's wrath to guide them. Together with Nanna, his queen, his full brother Hod, his half-brothers Vidar and Vali, his nephews Magni and Modi, and his uncle, Honir, they established peace in the field of Vigrid, resolving to shepherd the Reborn Cosmos wisely and peacefully. The bane of us all, Loki, his memory would be prevented from rising in any shape or form through chaos. Baldor refused to repeat the mistakes of the days of past. Humans repopulated Midgard, jotuns emerged from the mountains of Jotunheim, the elves rose from Alfheim, the dwarves crawled out of Svartalfheim, and the gods ruled from Asgard. Helheim, Niflheim, and Muspelheim were left unvisited, all being hells of equal horror, and Vanaheim returned to its quietness with its inhabitants of witches and other such stranger-folk. Yggdrasil grew, albeit scarred by its previous death, and Vigrid was made into a memorial to the gods and the days of past, a sacred site of reflection and remembrance. It stands for our legacy.

"Today, you continue that legacy through your participation in the Reenactment. In order for Baldor to keep the established peace, he needs strong and honorable soldiers to continue the fight against chaos, whatever form it may take this time."

There was silence for a moment as the seer looked around at the recruits, her hands clasped in front of her. "When you enter the Reenactment, you will be alone, with only your sword and shield to protect you. Whether or not you ally with your fellow recruits is up to you, but always remember you are working towards the same goal. There is no set number of survivors: only the honorable and capable will leave the Reenactment alive. This is not just a test of your strength, but of your heart, your mind, your abilities, and your honor. There will be other kinds of trials to endure than just the ones involving battle. You will need to survive, to become better.

"You will be entering a representation of the Nine Worlds belonging to the days of past, meticulously constructed with runes. With the exception of your fellow recruits, all living beings will be rekkr. You will not all face the same trials, but you will all fight the final battle together, at least those of you who make it to the end.

"The lessons you learn within the Reenactment, the history you live through, you must always remember. Your survival within is a testament to your ability to serve peace as an einherjar. Never forget that.

"There are no inherent rules. What you do will determine your worthiness, so act wisely." The seer bowed her head. "Close your eyes. You will be placed into the sleep and when you wake up, you will be within the Reenactment and you may begin proving yourselves."

Obediently, all the recruits closed their eyes. Blader slowly felt himself go numb and his eyes refused to open. As the numbness spread throughout his body, Blader felt his feet leave the ground and his body tilt until he was lying horizontal in midair. Then he lost all sense of feeling and his mind went blank.

[----]

When Blader opened his eyes, he was hovering in the air, seemly upright, surrounding by thick white mist. He couldn't see anything, not even his own limbs. After a second of thought, he wasn't even sure if he was floating or standing on something solid. He might not even be actually upright, for all he knew. There was no sense of direction in the mist, no way to tell where he was.

Blader tried to reach for his weapons but found himself immobilized, unable to lift his arms or move his feet. The only thing he could do was look around, slowly moving his head from side to side to see nothing but more of the thick, white mist. It completely engulfed him.

Where am I? he wondered, running through the worlds in his mind. The only thing the white mist was reminding him of was Ginnungagap, which was nothing. It wasn't a world at all. Would they really put us in there? I don't remember any major events – outside of creation, of course – happening within Ginnungagap.

Perhaps I'm somewhere else. But I can't move. Is that natural? I was given the impression I'd be able to move as soon as I awoke. Well, I'm awake, but I can't move!

A flash of light caught Blader's eye and he turned his head, looking in confusion as he saw fire on his right side, burning through the mist. The heat lashed at him and smoke filled the air as the tongues began to dance, growing brighter and higher as it fed off the mist.

A blast of cold air from his left brought his attention to the solidification of the mist as it began to transform into ice crystals, their sharp surfaces beginning to fill the air, rising up from what appeared to be the ground. The two elements raged on either side of him, cold striking his left side while the heat licked at his right side, neither touching him as he still stood among the mist.

Fire and ice.

Blader was standing in the exact middle of the creation story.

He still couldn't move his arms or legs. The fire and the ice both grew stronger on either side of him until the mist enveloping his body was the only mist left to be found.

And this, Blader Thrym, is how the chaotic mess that is life began.

The words seemed to slither through the air, sounding otherworldly in the void. Three shadowy figures appeared, one creating a hole in the fire, the other in the ice, and the third rising from the mist right in front of him. All three outlines looked exactly the same, except for their locations.

Blader couldn't form the words to the question he wanted to ask. He tried, his tongue and jaws moving, but the sounds escaped him and he ended up not able to make a sound. It was like his mouth had suddenly forgotten how to speak.

Legends often endure fire and ice, creating impossible things. What shall be your legacy?

The one in the ice began to chant, the sound only coming from Blader's left. Descended from a fearsome general, raised a farmer.

The mist figure then took up the chant. Now a recruit, in the Reenactment.

The fire seemed to burn hotter as the third figure ended the chant. All who live are not honorable; not all those who die are heroes.

Three runes, all three chorused. Three predictions. Legacy, courage, and danger. Read it as you will.

The figures dissolved into their respective elements as Blader still remained frozen. Then a new voice began to speak, one that was ambiguous and sounded like it was coming from everywhere as everything went black.

A world filled with abundant lies. Whose life do you most prize?

And then Blader lost consciousness.

/**/

What did you think? Of the seer's talk, of Blader's experience in Ginnungagap?

I apologize for this being a day late. Hope you enjoyed it; please leave a comment and a vote! Thanks for reading!

Skylar Wittenborn