I am.
This is the place before birth and after death. This is where names dissolve.
Imagine all the worries we carry. Washed away as we realize how insignificant our mortal selves are. Our battles, our desires, only relevant when we are trapped in our cage of flesh. How silly am I? When confronted by the white of unity.
Resisting the path only leads to wild roaming in the darkened forest of doubt.
And yet.
Who first walked to lead the way?
Who first trampled the often treaded path?
A fraction of my identity returns.
I am Kilda.
Falling. Out of the white. Out of the warmth. Away from my mother and father who are in me and with me. This is where I end up.
The room is dark. A green glow fills the space without surrendering its source.
Who pulled me here?
The pool of water before me grows ripples as a cloaked shape descends.
“Kilda…” a whisper teases.
My eyes lock onto the mythical figure before me. The air ripples around her, like it bends to her will. Surely this is a goddess. Surely this is who I hope to be. The peak we all climb toward.
“Wrong,” she says, like she can read my mind. “Though I appreciate the compliment.”
“Who… who are you?”
The black cloak unfurls, revealing the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even Eidunn cannot be compared to this unnatural being. My mouth gapes at her surreal demeanor. She hovers over the water, moving with the grace of a cat or an eagle. A combination of the two.
She throws her head back in laughter, making her loose-fitting dress swirl around her. The body beneath is sublime. Freya would feel intimidated. Challenged. She isn’t tall like elegant Thyra or slender like gorgeous Eidunn. She is exquisite. Femininity expressed with perfect proportions. She points her finger at me.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you, Kilda.”
“You… you know who I am?”
“How could I not? You have stolen what is mine. Of course I was curious.”
“Stolen? Stolen what?”
What is she talking about? The necklace? The hammer? The… Of course.
“Think, girl,” she whispers right in my ear, even if she is standing before me.
“You’re… You’re the Queen!”
My stomach sinks. Everything falls into place. The ring. The hammer. All of it.
The Queen giggles like an innocent little girl. The sound echoes across the chamber, coming at me from all angles.
“Ah, she has a brain to go with her foolhardy courage. That’s something, at least.”
This is the woman who forced my Ari to steal. Forced him to transform. All the pain she has caused. The death. The burning of Opdal. Sigurd…
