The Bird and The Wolf

FREYA

“Mothers will worry after their children, Gwylan dear,” Father said, as if trying to convince himself. “Raga has been doing marvelously with the Valkyrie for several seasons, like we knew she would. There’s no need to worry about a few sightings at the borders. If the beasts get any closer to the crops, the Council and the royal family will do something. Nothing like the sight of wings to make them tuck their tails and run.”

Father had a gleam in his eye like he usually did when remembering his own time wearing the armor of his people. He had served for many seasons, until Freya was born, and the attention she had needed had called him home permanently.

But it was Raga who seemed confident. “Don’t listen to the clucking of hens at the market, Mother,” she said.

Freya picked up on her sister’s mood and decided to change the subject. “I’m glad you’re home, Raga. Although, if you snore, I might serve you up to the mutts in the mountains myself,” Freya chirped with a devious smile.

“I don’t doubt you would, Freya! The fiercest of us all, and my inspiration every day.” Raga wrapped an armored arm around her much smaller sister’s shoulders and steered them both in the direction of the delicious smells of supper. Vegetable stew and herbs filled the air. “Let’s eat.”

Freya was hungry. She started toward the cupboards for bowls.

“Both of you!” Their mother’s finger pointed at her daughters. “You both smell of the woods and sweat. I don’t want your day’s filth stinking up our first meal together in a moon’s cycle. Go clean up.” She waved her hands to shoo the girls away from the kitchen.

After a stern nod from their father, and a smirk shared between Freya and Raga, they set off. The girls hurried up the curved stairway in the center of their home that was built into the gargantuan tree.

“Freya, help me with my armor and I’ll re-braid your hair,” Raga said as they got to their shared room at the top of the stairs. Raga started to take off her greaves and then the belt her weapons were attached to.

Freya undid the armor patch fastened between Raga’s wings, admiring the smooth feathers.

“How long will you be home before they send you out again?” Freya asked her sister after getting a wet washcloth for Raga to wipe the grime off her skin.

Raga let out a deep and tired sigh. She didn’t respond as she placed her armor and weapons in the chest at the foot of her bed. Raga’s shoulders slumped, and her wings dropped low. She placed a hand on her forehead and pushed her short white and red tipped hair back out of her face.

Freya worried that there was more going on at the border than Raga was willing to admit to their parents. Like, a lot more.

“Come here,” Raga gestured for Freya to sit on the stool on front of the wash basin. “I’ll tell you what’s really going on.”

Freya sat down, and Raga got to work on brushing out and neatly braiding Freya’s long platinum locks. “It’s more than just a few sightings. The rumors Mother has been hearing are true. Vargar are coming in too close. And there are more and more of them coming.”

Freya couldn’t see her sister’s face, but she could feel her sister’s hands were steady. Her voice was exhausted but full of strength.

“I can’t tell Mother and Father just yet, but I won’t be here for long. The Council has decided to send a large force to guard the borders as a show of strength. They hope that a big enough force will lead to the mutts backing off. But they want enough soldiers there in case anything goes wrong.”

“In case—”

“Freya, don’t worry. I know how to fight the mongrels, and this isn’t even a call to war. Just an extra precaution.”

Freya knew her sister needed her to be brave. “Sister, I have faith in you. I just don’t want to be alone again.”

Raga pulled Freya into a hug to comfort her. “You are never alone, Freya. Mother and Father love you and worry about you. There is no other Adaryn like you. That makes you unique. You’re so strong, and you’re such an amazing climber. You are incredible, and I want you to see yourself like we do.” Raga made sure Freya’s hair was secure in the long braid down her back.

“It’s your strength, the way you always keep going, that motivates me during my long hours of training and work with the Valkyrie. They love to hear stories of the mighty Freya and how nothing keeps her down. When everyone else was learning to fly, you learned to climb. You reached for the sky all the same. Don’t feel alone with our parents. Let them see the strength I see.”

Freya let out a breath. Raga always knew what to say to make her feel better. She never felt lonely when she was with her sister, but a bad feeling had settled in her gut like a heavy stone.

“Thank you, Raga. I always miss talking to you when you’re gone. I’m so sad you’re leaving early. When do you leave?”

“The day after next. I must return to the Valkyrie Nest by midday and strategize our defenses. Just let me be the one to tell Mother,” Raga nearly pleaded, as if Freya was one to gossip.

She placed a hand over her mouth and raised her eyebrows at Raga to signal her lips were sealed.

After a nod and a few seconds of silence, Raga stood and took Freya’s arm to head down the stairs to the tempting smells of dinner.

Freya tried not to hold her sister’s arm too tightly as they descended. She wanted to hold her tight enough that she could keep her sister from disappearing. Raga was her one true friend in this world, and she was leaving in two days.

At least Raga would have the company of her fellow Valkyrie when she left. They’d sleep out under the stars together and keep watch over the border.

Being lonely was Freya’s problem, not Raga’s.

Yet, this didn’t feel like the other deployments Raga had been sent on. This one seemed to have more threat behind it. Freya could feel something was wrong from the way Raga had talked about it, and the way they were being rushed back out. Usually they had a longer break.

Had something happened? It wasn’t unusual for Vargar to be spotted testing their limits at the borders. Every so often they would even manage to steal a few bundles from the Adaryn crops under the cover of night.

Still, their people hadn’t really been at war for most of Freya’s life. She’d heard the stories about centuries of war between them, but that was a long time ago. She only knew of two battles. One of them was right after she was born. Her father had fought in it, and the attack was another reason her father had asked for a discharge from his service. Plus, he always said family came first, and he had to come home to help their mother with their too small and frail nestling.

Freya wondered why the Vargar could be pushing their limits at the border now. Winter would be here in a few moons. She couldn’t imagine either side having the energy to fight in the cold. She’d heard the Vargar lived deep in the snowy mountains. Perhaps they were better suited to the cold than the Adaryn. Her people needed a lot of sleep in the colder seasons.

She’d never seen a Vargar, just drawings of them from old books. They were depicted as large four-legged beasts covered in fur, like a wolf but much larger. They could stand on their hind legs.

Perhaps their fur kept them warm in the mountains, Freya thought to herself.

At the family dining nook, Freya sat close with her loved ones, listening to Raga tell of her newest adventures. She kept her tone light. She’d beaten her commander, Alvyna, at sparring practice. Her flock of Valkyrie had found a large bush of wild berries and made their own berry-wine at the soldiers’ rookery on the border. As she mentioned the berry-wine, she leapt from the table and rushed to retrieve a water skin from the bag she’d left by the doorway.

“I managed to save some to bring home. I had to hide it from the girls. This batch was phenomenal!” Raga took a swig from the skin and passed it to their father who took a hesitant sniff.

“Smells strong! Is this what our mighty warriors do these days? A few swigs of this and the Vargar curs would be under our noses before the sun came up!” He jested before taking an appreciative swallow of wine and proceeding to pass it to Mother.

Without a word, she took the bag and a few large gulps before passing the skin full of wine on to Freya. “Could be stronger.”

Father looked surprised. He gave his mate a cheeky half-grin.

“What are you looking at, Lonan? The other ladies like to share wine whenever we meet. I’ve had the stuff they share with the Council.” She chuckled and her cheeks flushed pink. “But it’s not bad at all, Raga.”

“Well, Mother, I suppose I’ll have to bring back more if we find another batch of these berries. It’s very good stuff that got us through those long boring nights, that wine.”

Freya held the bag. She wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to feel left out.

“I’ve only tried a little before and wasn’t a huge fan.”

“Just try it,” Raga said.

Freya peered in to see the swirling crimson liquid inside. The wild berry scent filled her nostrils and she had to admit it was nice. But, after a sip, Freya wrinkled her nose at the bitter taste. “No, I still don’t like it. Thanks though.”

Her family chuckled and continued to pass the skin around the table in between bowls of hearty vegetable stew. The sound of their talk and laughter was a comfort to Freya. She relaxed back into her seat. She felt safe and warm, happily seated next to her sister.

A hush fell over the table. Freya realized she had tuned out and missed something important.