The Mercenary's Valkyrie: Book One

Worlds Away

"She watched the gap between ship and shore grow to a huge gulf. Perhaps this was a little like dying, the departed no longer visible to the others, yet both still existed, only in different worlds."

—

I do not know how many slithers or spans drifted away as I beat up a storm against the oak door. It was not for a lack of food or beverage laid out in repulsively decadent display or the reliable slow rock of the floor beneath me to the waves. I simply needed that immortal to return. Demand answers from the cryptic hag and set about terms for my release. She had the relic, was that surely not enough?

I would sooner see a blade than have anything further to do with her regaining immortal power.

I could not pace about the space like a frantic caged animal—no I was still immobile from the damned immortal blades which had ripped into my legs like nothing more than soft butter. I was positive my life was yet again at the hands of the Valkyrie and her relentless power. It was positively out of my system now... my only comforting thought lay in that she would have that energy, that life blood once again.

I thumped the back of my head against the door I was pressed to. My legs splayed out before me as useless as I felt. One move and agony would rip through me once more.

I grit my teeth and hit my head into the door once again, biting away the self-loathing. What would she think of me now? Slumped against the door, feeling sorry for myself? Challenging the Captain who had no immortal energy at her disposal and coming away as a captive.... she would be so disappointed.

A Valkyrie does not falter in battle. She never did. The realisation hit me like the damandium daggers all over again. Each moment was focused, calculated and lethal. She used every slither and wasted so many on myself every time I let emotion run away. Or I could not wield the power I was destined to control. How many times had she kept me alive? Just kept me breathing... and for what. A mortal without enough skill and focus to disarm an immortal with no power—a mortal to let said immortal take hold of the blades and a relic of the destroyed god himself. The consequences still could not even be calculated.

I grit my teeth as I felt unfamiliar salt enter my eyes. I did not bother with wiping them away. Instead I broke away from the door and dragged myself towards the small table that housed a cask of wine. It may have been port, it may have been ale or a Bear clan's piss—at this point I did not give a flying shit.

I swiped it off ignoring a glass as it crashed to the floor and shattered into the wood. I tore the cork away and gulped several times before coming up for air.
Perhaps I would get lucky and it was poisoned or sedated.... oblivion did not seem overly unappealing.

I had always seen myself as a force of will and strength. Ha. I wiped my mouth and let the humourless laugh sit in the silence. We were nothing but thieves and liars lucky to be alive. Nothing more. The sparkling eyes of onlookers knew nothing. Maybe a mundane life in contrast made us look glamourised. But when things really got difficult we just ran, we just bluffed or cheated our way out. I drank deeply again before the thought enraged me too much and I launched it across the room into the door.

It exploded in a fountain of red velvets and green shards. I smirked thinking of the chaos I had made for the moronic furred animals outside. It was all I was good for, creating messes for others to pick up.

I rolled my head to the side and decided I had bared enough of the wooden floor on my ass. I clawed my arms up upon the soft plush bed and was glad to know the wine was numbing the pain as well as blurring the surroundings.... could be poison after all I thought happily.