30
At first, everything was hazy. Dark. I was surrounded by a suffocating smoke that clung to me like a second skin, desperate to devour me.
Then my magic pulsated and it drove the darkness away, leaving me and the frail soul of the man standing on the winding, thin path that was the nothingness of the Veil.
Not exactly Valhalla.
“Come on,” I muttered to myself. I pictured the Gates in my mind, drawing on the memory of the last time I saw it.
The thick, stone columns with the expertly carved runes that framed the two golden doors. The uncountable locks and gears, all working together to keep the souls of warriors in and anyone that didn’t belong out.
Like me.
No. I hadn’t forsaken Valhalla. I was ready, more than ever, to serve my Afterlife and do what Valkyries had done for as long
