"Blader, wake up." Wolfsted's voice was quiet as he shook Blader's shoulder. He rolled over, glancing up at the Aldrian. The cave was dark and quiet and he could barely make out Wolfsted's face. "It's time for your watch."

Sitting up, Blader nodded to Wolfsted. "Keep an ear out for predators and jotuns," Wolfsted advised. "And make sure your weapons are close at hand. Wake Skalfi in a couple hours." With that, Wolfsted rose and walked quietly off to where he had spread his reindeer fur, a couple feet away from Blader's.

Blader gently grabbed his shield and sword, careful not to make any noise, moved towards the entrance to the cave, and rested with his back against the rock wall. The night was clear, the moon full as it bathed the mountain slope in silvery light.

In the distance, he could hear the howl of wolves, the sound no less eerie for how faraway it sounded. Nearby there sounded the soft hoot of an owl and the skittering of small creatures dashing across the rocks. The night was quiet but nevertheless filled with life.

Blader's mind drifted as he watched the area outside the cave, wondering about his family back home. How had Hilda done on her exams? Had she secured an apprenticeship with Njordesden's weaver? Was Freyja excited for her own chance to start school in the fall? Was Ivan teaching Freyja how to round up the cattle so she could help Hilda? Blader bet Freyja loved riding Sig, the gentler horse, as Hilda would be on Fjorsen now. Freyja probably thought she was like Loqé, with the wind whipping her hair back as she got to ride across the fields.

The house must smell good from all the flower wreaths Hilda would have made by now, the smell of summer. Blader wondered if she was continuing to teach Freyja how to braid the flowers, like the little girl was always clamoring for. Freyja simply loved flowers. She probably had Hilda teach her how to make a flower crown so she could wear it in her hair.

And his parents. Were they looking forward to a good harvest? Were the crops coming in nicely? It had looked like it was going to be a good year; Blader hoped it was.

He wondered if his family was still missing him.

That's a ridiculous question, he chided himself. Of course they're missing me; I'm their son and their brother. Life just goes on, that's all.

I miss them, but life goes on.

What of Loqé? Were the other Valkyries still shunning her? What was she even doing in Asgard while the Reenactment was going on? Blader had never thought to ask. Perhaps she was there in case he died, so his family could receive back the body and the weapons. His father would want the sword and shield back; he had, after all, called them legacies.

And then Blader's mind wandered to his friend. What was Jorid doing, now that he had graduated? His father was a blacksmith, but Jorid didn't seem like the kind to follow in his father's footsteps. Although he had a talent at working the forge and fashioning implements, Jorid had never been interested in forging and fixing farm tools, which was the majority of what his father crafted. He probably was working with his father, though, considering he'd never taken on an apprenticeship to learn a separate trade.

Blader and Jorid, often with Hilda tagging along, would stop by the Racarl Forge to watch Jorid's father, Tveir Racarl, at work. On one of those visits, Racarl had been in the middle of forging a sword. Jorid, knowing about the project, had proudly led Blader and Hilda there after school.

"See, this is what I would do," Jorid had said to Blader, watching the steel glow hot in the fire. The orange light reflected in his eyes, giving him an eerie look. "I'd make weapons, and chains. But Njordesden really don't need weapons or chains." His face curled into a snarl.

"Doesn't," Tveir had grunted, startling the three of them. "We don't send you to school to speak wrong, Jorid. Your mother wants you to say 'doesn't.'"

One of the things that had changed about Jorid after Thor's Bridge is that he never spoke incorrectly again.

Blader adjusted his position. He hoped Sodull, Erik, and Vandri were all right. There had been no sign of them since the seer had spoken with the recruits. Hopefully I will see them again soon.

Skalfi shifted, her tunic making a slight sound as it brushed against the wolf skin. After a quick glance in her direction, Blader glanced back out of the cave's mouth, watching and waiting.

I hope the wolves haven't attacked again.

Blader allowed his mind to turn towards the subject of the wolf attacks on Midgard. Who was behind the coordinated assaults? Was it indeed someone involved in the Dyr Gunar plot? Or not? He recalled what the gods had said in their meeting, about the wolves symbolizing chaos and their suspicions about who was behind the attack. And then something else struck him, something the gods had mentioned but had not discussed by Wolfsted, Blader, or Skalfi. It had almost seemed...out of place, now that Blader looked back on it.

"What about the Reenactment?" Magni asked. "It is to be held soon."

"That will proceed as planned," Vidar said. "Baldor told me he is going to speak with the seers about extra precautions."

Precautions against what?

Sodull's voice rang in Blader's ears. "If the Reenactment is designed to kill the unworthy, then how come Dyr Gunar made it through?"

Could the Reenactment truly be faulty? Or was it simply like everyone said, that people just changed, that they were honorable at the time of the trials and turned against Asgard afterwards?

The Transriot driver who had transported Blader and Loqé to the border had spoken of chaos, and how it would always be there. He had said the gods would cause the downfall of the Reborn Cosmos, blaming them for the first fall.

That was Loki's doing.

But Loki had been considered a god, had he not? At least, he had dwelt among them, as Odin's sworn brother, no less. And he had brought about Ragnarok.

There is such a thing as learning from past mistakes. The High King seems to be eager to avoid repeating those mistakes.

Blader considered such things for a long time before he found himself nodding off. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he rose out of his sitting position, stretching his limbs to chase away the cramps, and walked over to Skalfi, crouching down beside her.

But just as he was putting his hand on her shoulder to wake her, a crashing noise from outside the cave startled him into falling back. Whirling towards the mouth of the cave, all Blader saw was the soft moonlight obscured by a clatter of falling rocks and dust.

Wolfsted and Skalfi bolted into upright positions, Wolfsted grabbing his sword and Skalfi gripping her dagger, and they both stared at the entrance along with Blader. The rocks continued to fall, the dust entering the cave and causing the recruits to choke, eyes stinging.

Between the thundering of the falling rocks, the sudden cut off of what little light there was, and the dust, Blader, Skalfi, and Wolfsted were frozen, unable to react, see, or hear. It wasn't until the noise stopped and the dust died down that Wolfsted found his voice. "Rockslide. This isn't good."

"We're trapped?" Skalfi asked. Blader heard her shifting but he couldn't see her.

"Perhaps," Wolfsted said uncertainly. "When I scouted out the cave earlier, I noticed a narrow tunnel in the back. That might lead somewhere."

"Is there any way we could move the rocks blocking the mouth?" Blader queried. Wolfsted was quiet for a minute before answering.

"Maybe. We could try, see if there's a way to create a new exit." But Blader could tell from Wolfsted's voice that it was a very low possibility. "I doubt it, though."

"We can at least try," Skalfi said, a note of desperation in her voice. "We have no light or anything for traveling through tunnels, no way to see."

Blader cocked his head. "Skalfi, you have your flint, right?"

"Right, but –"

"And your fishing spear?"

"Yes."

"If we find some fabric we don't need, we can make a torch and see if we can find an exit," Blader suggested. "In case we can't clear the mouth of the cave."

"That could work, for a bit," Wolfsted agreed. "But what fabric?"

"My pack," Skalfi said suddenly. "There's nothing much in it but some lichen, my flint, and my canteen. We can move those to Blader's pack, if there's room, and cut my pack up to use for the torches."

"Let's gather up all our belongings," Wolfsted instructed. "Then we get a small fire started to examine the rockslide."

Working quickly in the dark, Blader, Wolfsted, and Skalfi grabbed their skins, rolling them up into manageable bundles. The straps were cut off of Skalfi's pack and secured around the wolf skins, the largest of the furs, and while Skalfi cut up the rest of her pack, Blader placed her store of lichen in with his own, her canteen going next to his. The flint rocks went in her belt pouch. Wolfsted used a strip he had cut from his reindeer skin to secure the fur into a bundle and using a longer strip, he tied all three together so as to be worn by Skalfi as a pack in place of her old one.

After they had gone over all their belongings, Skalfi took a strip of fabric and frayed the edges with her dagger enough to catch the sparks when she struck her flint. It took a few attempts but the cloth caught fire and the three recruits examined the rocks blocking the cave mouth to see if there was any chance of escape via the entrance.

"I don't like the look of this," Wolfsted grumbled as he crouched down. The little bit of light from the fire flickering on the cloth barely lit up the rocks, but after the pitch darkness they had been in, it seemed to improve the visual conditions immensely. "I don't think we should try this. Or could, for that matter." He touched one of the rocks and then stood up, gesturing for the other two to step back. When they had, Wolfsted shoved at the rocks and then jumped back. Nothing happened except for the sound of falling pebbles.

"Start at the top?" Skalfi suggested.

Wolfsted shot her a withering look. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Blader walked back over to the cave in and studied the rocks. "I don't see light or anything between the cracks. Just darkness."

"Always a bad sign," Wolfsted agreed. "The moon was bright enough that we'd see something. But I think we're stuck." For emphasis, he pushed at the rocks at the top of the mouth and the only result was pebbles dropping down into the cave again.

"The tunnel it is, then," Blader said grimly, and they grabbed their packs and weapons.

Wolfsted decided to lead the way, holding Skalfi's fishing spear with the lit cloth strip dangling over it. Due to the pack being woven from tough fabric, the fire burned through it more slowly, allowing them more time with the one strip of cloth.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," Blader responded.

"Ready," Skalfi echoed.

"Here goes," Wolfsted said, and stepped forward into the narrow tunnel, Skalfi and Blader following.