Freyja

A short story about Freyja, the Norse goddess in the moments after a lost battle.

Freyja collapsed amongst a field of yellow flowers, stained by the blood of her slain friends and enemies. In Valhalla they are all the same. Death has a way of uniting those used as pawns. Earthly disputes conjured by a malevolent leader under the guise as a noble god. The true shadow walker. The wind carried whispers of his arrival. Odin would be coming to collect.

Within her the remnants of battle thrust against her armour. An unrelenting ache. Her eyes scanned through every tragedy. She wondered if she were the same as Odin. Two gods of the same cloth. Readying her friends for slaughter. A war fought on behalf, the people paying the price.

Though she cut the cloth herself. She chose to join the plight of common folk. To join her love. “Only a good person would wonder if they were bad,” he would say. The sentiment only a memory now.

Golden tears rained from her soul as she looked to the sky for aid. Glowing rays beneath dark clouds burn to reach her, but Odin’s ravens haunt her instead.

And she is left with a new choice. Wait for Odin’s callous retribution or defy his will until she meets her love again.

Short story and artwork by Kelsey Cameron - @kelseyc_art