Destined Souls Read online

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Epilogue

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Isabel Ednah McFarland. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Runes Universe remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Isabel Ednah McFarland, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Destined Souls

  Melissa Haag

  A special thanks to Ednah Walters for letting me live in the Runes world, if even just for a bit.

  Author’s note

  Since this story occurs during the earlier crusades, I’ve used some names and terms appropriate to the times. They are not misspellings. Thanks!

  Destined Souls

  Being a reaper is lonely business. As one of the first Valkyrie, Thora knows that loneliness better than most. The devastation of the Crusades has left her heart sore and weary of her long existence, until one soldier’s story lights a fire she thought lost and gives her new purpose to keep reaping for Odin’s army.

  One

  Battles were fought and won, or lost, according to the whim of destiny. I never cared about the outcome, only the souls I reaped.

  However, I was growing sick of the crusades. Hot wind blew the sands while the life-giving Nile shimmered in the distance. The heat only increased the rotted scent of death. Moans and pleas from the dying filled the air. Wasted lives. Yes, it benefited Odin and Hel, but what about humanity? Did they not deserve a lifetime without war?

  “What is this? The fifth? The sixth Crusade?” I mumbled to myself as I walked the bloodied dunes.

  Dying men looked up at me, likely seeing a fabled Valkyrie image of Norse legend. Tall with long blonde hair, I enraptured mortal men, even on death’s bed. It was that very reason Odin had chosen me so long ago and why I successfully recruited so many.

  Untying the scroll, I studied the parchment. Aud, my raven companion shifted her weight on my shoulder as she too considered the list. There were many names on it. I looked out over the body-strewn sands. Even with Aud circling above to help, I would spend more time than I wanted here.

  I sighed and glanced at Aud.

  “Let us begin,” I said. She took flight, soaring high.

  Rolling the list back up, I headed toward where she circled and knelt by my first reaping. A large, red hole marked the front of the dying man’s tabard. He gasped and struggled for air.

  “Shh,” I whispered to him, not bothering to ask his name. He didn’t have the breath to spare to answer, and Aud was never wrong. As a raven, she saw death and always knew which soul needed to be reaped next.

  “I am here to give you a gift, if you choose. Immortality in the service of Odin.”

  Blood bubbled from the man’s mouth as he gasped his agreement. Taking out my artavus, a magical runic blade given to me by the All Father, himself, I began etching a healing rune.

  A whisper of movement to my right caught my attention. Not far from me, a survivor walked among the bodies. I watched him bend and use his knife to end the life of a wounded man. It wasn’t done in compassion, but with the intent of finishing any enemy he found.

  I stood and went to him. As a reaper, I didn’t have a side in their battles. However, those I runed needed time to heal and turn. I couldn’t have him stabbing one of my charges.

  The man didn’t see me or feel when I etched a rune on him, making him forget his task. He straightened from searching through the dead soldier’s clothing, looked around at the fallen men, then wandered away toward the Nile.

  Satisfied, I looked up at Aud once more.

  “Where is our next man?” I asked softly.

  She cawed, circled, and landed on a man not far from me. I went and knelt beside him. When I touched his cheek, he opened his eyes. He was not as near death as the first.

  “What is your name?” I asked.

  “Heinricus,” he said.

  I checked the list of names and found several men called Heinricus there. It didn’t matter which one he was. The names would disappear from the parchment once the soul was reaped or the individual etched with his first healing rune. I glanced at Aud, letting her know to start her search for the next. She dipped her head and, with a squawk, took flight again.

  Several yards from where I knelt, a young man startled at the sudden sound. His eyes opened, and he tracked Aud as she soared overhead. Awe relaxed the lines of pain from his handsome, pale face. The red that stained his tabard near the bottom gave reason for the pain and reason to fear Aud. Most men saw the black bird as a sign of ill-omen, which was true, in a way. One form of their existence was ending and another beginning. This man, however, did not wear fear on his face. Just awe.

  He looked away from the raven, and his gaze drifted to me. He’d removed his helm so his face lay exposed to the burning sun. However, the heat didn’t seem to bother him. A fine coat of pale sand dusted his dark hair, which ruffled in the heated breeze as he stared at me.

  With invisibility runes engaged, he shouldn’t have been able to see me. Yet, perhaps he did have cause to. His soft brown eyes carried the glazed sheen of impending death.

  The man smiled slightly at me.

  Heinricus coughed, and I looked down at him once more.

  “I am here to give you a gift, if you choose. Immortality in the service of Odin,” I said, leaning closer to speak to him.

  He gazed at me appreciatively, but denied my offer for Immortality. It happened more often than accepting. He didn’t want to continue without his wife and children, who he’d left behind when setting out on this crusade. I tried explaining that, as an Immortal, he would be able to go home to them. As a soul, he may never see them again, because only the strong and the worthy were claimed by Odin. They would never know his fate and still live their lives without him.

  My explanation didn’t change the man’s answer. He understood too well, as an Immortal, his loved ones would die and he would not. He saw what I had not. The long, lonely future of an Immortal. So, I waited beside him until he breathed his last and welcomed his soul into the keeping of Odin’s army.

  Using my artavus, I opened a portal to Asgard and guided the new soul through. Odin’s realm was a relief after the desert, but I didn’t linger. Once the soul was settled, I opened a portal to return.

  As soon as I stepped out onto the hot dunes, the same dying man’s eyes locked on me again. Something in his brown gaze stirred a deep sense of pity, and I looked out over the red sea of fallen men.

  Grimnirs, in their long dark cloaks, walked among them, too. I hoped one would come soon for this one and end his suffering.

  Aud cawed, calling my attention, and I walked away to find the next name on my list. However, even as I offered the new man immortality, my eyes kept going back to the dark-haired man without a helm. He hadn’t moved. Had his soul already been collected?

  Ignoring Aud’s caw signaling the next, I wandered back to the man and found him still watching my raven above.

  A Grimnir moved toward us.

  “Thora,” he said with a nod. “I’ve come for him.”

  I wasn’t surprised the Grimnir knew my name. I’d been reaping for almost two thousand years. Longer than most of the Grimnirs here.

  I stepped away from the man. However, the long haired Grimnir didn’t go to the wounded man. He strode to his neighbor.

  “What about this one?” I asked, motioning toward
the man who watched us both.

  The Grimnir glanced at the Mortal but shook his head.

  “He isn’t on our list to be reaped.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked. We could both see the man was dying.

  The Grimnir shrugged, reaped his assigned soul, and created a portal to Hel. A cool breeze blew across the desert sand. The cold from the Goddess’ realm. I rather enjoyed the reprieve, even if I was annoyed with the Grimnir.

  “Novice,” I said with a shake of my head.

  When I looked back at the man, his eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. Trying not to care, I turned away.

  I didn’t like the Grimnirs or the role they were playing in building Hel’s army. Yet, I could acknowledge that we shared a common goal. We eased the suffering of dying souls and guided them to their final resting places. Grimnirs took the old, the infirm, and the corrupt, while we Valkyrie took the warriors, the righteous and worthy fighters. The dying man was a warrior. That he wasn’t on my list likely meant he was corrupt. I needed to find an older Grimnir to straighten this out.

  However, when I looked around, I didn’t see any faces I recognized.

  Aud landed on my shoulder and cawed at me, a reminder and a reprimand.

  “Yes, I know I must reap. Where is the next?”

  We worked together for a lengthy time before I passed the man again. The color of his skin had reddened, and this time, when Aud cawed her warning, he was slow to open his eyes. He coughed and opened and closed his mouth as if searching for moisture in its depths. Dust and the sun were working together to make him suffer.

  Moving to a group of deceased men, I bent down and searched under the tabard for a flask or skin of liquid. The first and second had nothing remaining in theirs. The third’s skin sloshed when I shook it. Breaking the leather bindings, I stood with the water skin.

  “Robbing the dead, Thora?” someone asked from behind me.

  I turned and saw a familiar Grimnir.

  “I wouldn’t need to if you would do your task, Rhys,” I said, already walking away from him. I could hear the former Valkyrie follow me. He wasn’t that old, but he might be more helpful than the prior Hel spawn.

  I stopped at the fallen soldier, squatted down, and gently brushed his whiskered cheek.

  “Open your lips,” I said softly. His eyes and lips remained closed.

  “You shouldn’t interfere,” Rhys said.

  “I’m not. If he’s marked for death, death will have him. I only mean to ease his passing,” I said.

  I unstoppered the flask and dribbled water onto the dying man’s dry, cracked lips. He responded by opening his mouth slightly.

  “What if he’s meant to die from lack of water?” Rhys asked from behind me. I didn’t need to turn to see if he frowned. I could hear it in his words. He of all Grimnirs had no right to question me. After all, interfering with the fates was the very reason he was cast from Asgard.

  “Then the Norns will appear any moment. Best run and hide Grimnir. I hear you Celts were good at that.”

  He growled behind me.

  “Take his soul, and he won’t need water. Why prolong his suffering?”

  I stopped what I was doing and pivoted to look up at him.

  “Me? He’s not on my list.”

  Rhys frowned. “He’s not on ours either.”

  I looked down at the man. His chest barely rose and fell with his breathing. That he wasn’t on either list meant he wouldn’t die. But how was that possible?

  “Walk away and don’t look back, Valkyrie,” Rhys said. “This stinks of Norn manipulation.”

  I nodded, but finished dribbling water between the man’s lips before I set the skin on the man’s chest and moved toward the circling Aud.

  Two

  There was no satisfaction in seeing an empty scroll. Once, long ago, pride would have filled me at the number of men I’d recruited or souls escorted. Now, I just wanted to get the latest Immortals settled into their new roles and leave this place of senseless death.

  The men listened as I explained their responsibilities in supporting the Valkyrie and Odin’s work. They stood together, thankfully understanding their Mortal differences and beliefs no longer mattered. When I finished with a promise to see them again the following day, they parted ways, two groups setting out to return to the remnants of their armies.

  I stood among the dead, invisibility runes engaged, and knew that I should create a portal to my home on Earth. Yet, I couldn’t leave without checking on the dying man.

  Turning, I wove my way through the scattered bodies until I found him. He lay as he had before, but now his hand covered the empty water skin. He’d drunk it dry. I didn’t hesitate to find him another one from nearby bodies.

  When I gently removed the used skin, he opened his eyes. The way he looked at me tugged at my insides. I brushed back his hair, a gesture of comfort. But for who?

  “What is your name?” I asked.

  “Giso,” he said with a dry cough.

  I placed the new skin in his hand. He used his other hand to unstop the skin and brought it to his lips. I watch the effort he used to lift his head enough to drink deeply. He set his head back with a groan.

  “Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes.

  My gaze swept his body. The armor hid much, making it difficult to see his fatal injury. When I focused back on his face, I found him looking at me again.

  “What is your name?” he asked.

  “Thora.”

  “I’ve watched you. Are you here for me?” His rich brown eyes held mine. There was no plea in their depths, just acceptance.

  “I am not,” I said, heavy with regret. “Did you have family with you?” I wondered if, perhaps, he would be rescued by one of them.

  “I am alone.”

  Surrounded by his fellow man, he still felt alone. It was a sentiment I well understood.

  “I like your bird,” he said, looking up toward the darkening sky. “I watch her fly and wonder what it would feel like to soar so free.”

  Aud shifted on my shoulder, and I followed his gaze to see what he watched. Nothing. My raven pecked and plucked at my hair.

  “I need to leave you now.”

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked. The ashen hue around his lips suggested he would not.

  “Perhaps. Only the fates know that.”

  “Farewell, Thora,” he said, closing his eyes.

  I stood and created a portal to my coastal home on the cold, rugged shores of Hålogaland. Stepping through, I let the familiar sight of the fjord and islands wash over me. The cool breeze welcomed me after the heat of the desert. Damp salty air kissed my skin, and I breathed deeply as Aud took flight.

  After becoming Valkyrie, I had returned to Asgard after each reaping. The realm of wealth and beauty had easily beguiled me. Yet, as time passed, an ache had grown within me. I had stopped seeing the beauty of the gods and goddesses and started dreaming of the salt and seashore from where I’d come. Returning to my place of birth had posed little problem. Those I’d loved had long passed into the next realms, and I would see them again come Ragnarök. However, knowing that didn’t stop me from missing them. That ache of loneliness had grown with each passing decade, until a hole existed within me. It wasn’t filled with bitterness or regret. It was a void of nothing, a missing piece of myself.

  I watched the windswept waters and thought of Giso among the fallen.

  “I am alone,” I whispered to the sea, echoing his words.

  Disease, famine, war, and—for the lucky few—age, could steal the life Mortals clung to. Yet, Giso had not seemed to cling. Why? Where did he call home? Where was his family? Why was he alone? Was that why he had marched on a crusade in a long line of bloody crusades?

  A seagull flew over the waters, drawing my attention. I recalled the way he’d wistfully gazed at the sky. What more did he wonder about when he looked up?

  I turned away from the shore and walked to my home. Aud a
lready perched on the roof, watching my approach. The long house where I’d been born had long since decayed, and a new, smaller log structure stood in its place. The wards I’d etched into the timbers kept the curious and dishonest away.

  Opening the door, I breathed in the smell of dried herbs, hay, and salted fish. Home. A place of comfort and safety away from reaping. However, it offered little solace as my mind remained with Giso, alone and dying in the growing dusk.

  I frowned, picked up my bow, and I went back outside. Waves hit the shoreline as I considered the craggy land around my home. Bigger game could be found inland, by a patient hunter. But I didn’t want big game. I needed something quickly and small, like a hare or squirrel. Both relatively easy to find near the coastline bramble and trees.

  Aud stayed on her roost as I moved away from the log structure. It didn’t take long before I had a squirrel and a hare in hand. Returning, I started a fire and placed the cleaned carcasses in the pot with fresh water. While the mix boiled, I went to dig onions. I rinsed the dirt from them on the shore then added them to the pot along with a bit of yarrow.

  I sat and watched the flames for a while. Was he still alive? What foolishness had me considering returning? Yet, how could I not?

  When the meat fell freely from the bones, I removed the pot and allowed everything to cool. Then, with great care, I ladled the broth into an empty skin.

  As soon as I stepped outside, Aud cawed and settled on my shoulder.

  “I know,” I said softly as I used my artavus to open a portal to Kemet once more. “I am risking punishment from the fates and the gods. But something about him prevents me from leaving him to a lonely death. I must go.”

  Aud cawed and took flight through the portal. I followed.

  Without the heat of the sun, the desert sands had cooled. It was still warmer than home, but the wounded and dying lay shivering. Carefully, I wove my way to Giso. The water skin on his chest lay flat, once again empty.

  Dust coated his skin now and only the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated he still lived.