16. Maddy
Chapter 16
Maddy
I can't suppress the flutter of excitement when we approach the berry bush. Surely this time…
It shimmers when we come to a stop in front of it, and I hold my breath. Before I can send a prayer to the gods, it vanishes.
In its place, carved into the very bark of the massive tree, stands the Bear Wing.
My mouth drops open.
The building spans half the massive branch we're standing on, its three peaked roofs crowned with life-sized wooden bears. They rear up on their hind legs, their front paws raised, faces carved with such detail that their snarls seem to ripple in the misty air.
More bears adorn the entrance, huge carved posts depicting bears locked in battle framing the Thyrvi-sized doors. Ancient runes meaning "strength" and "victory" have been burned deep into the wood around the doors, their edges gilded with what looks like actual gold.
Thyrvi's excitement pulses through our bond. "This is ours?" she asks, already moving.
"It's magnificent," I breathe, following her.
"It's… changed." Harald's astounded voice makes me stop in my tracks. I turn to him.
"What?"
He's staring at the right side of the building, eyes sparking with excitement. "The third building. It's new. As long as I've lived here, there have been two buildings—one with sleeping chambers and strategy rooms, and the training building on the left."
Thyrvi barges through the double doors with ease, and with a burst of enthusiastic speed, Harald hurries after her. With a grin, I follow.
The entrance hall stretches up three stories, illuminated by the warm light from wall sconces. Intricate tapestries depicting battles between berserkers and Frost Giants line the space, their threads seeming to move in the flickering light.
Thyrvi leads us down a side corridor, to what can only be described as a barn. The space is enormous, with individual stalls that look more like luxury living quarters for bears. Each has a sunken sleeping area filled with fresh straw and soft moss, a bathing pool, and a raised platform with large branches at the back. The ceiling opens to the sky through numerous, chimney-like holes, allowing the crisp air to flow freely. It's deliciously cool.
"Featherblade has provided," Harald says as he stares around the huge, open space.
I run my hand along the runes carved into the stall gates. Protection. Courage. Valor.
"All this is for the new val-tivars ?"
"It must be!" He claps his hand to his breastplate. "I must see if Brynhild has experienced similar changes to the Bird Wing," he says. "You are happy to explore alone?"
"Of course."
With a last, awed look around the barn, he leaves.
"I guess we can make ourselves at home," I say to Thyrvi.
Thyrvi chooses a stall near the back. She begins arranging the bedding to her liking, using her massive paws to create a perfect circle of straw and moss, and I watch her, unable to hide my amusement. Who would have thought such a huge creature could be so particular? I wouldn't go so far as to call her cute, but it's certainly a side of her I haven't seen, or ever expected.
"Do you need help?" I ask her.
She pauses and looks back over her massive shoulder at me. "Do I look like I need help?"
I smile and shake my head, watching her fuss for a while longer.
"We may find your sleeping quarters now," she says eventually.
"You're too kind."
The central building is much like the High Hall, with spiral staircases rising on each side of the open space, leading to corridors lined with doors. The stairs are significantly more exciting, though, carved with bears that climb endlessly upward, their bodies twisting and interweaving to form the steps themselves.
I keep going until I reach the third floor, where the corridors only lead to two doors. Picking one at random, I turn the carved wooden handle.
The room is simple but elegant, everything carved from pale wood. A massive bed draped in thick white furs dominates one wall, while a sturdy writing desk sits beneath a window that frames the endless canopy outside. A window seat wide enough to curl up in with a book juts out over the branch below, cushioned with more furs in shades of white and gray.
A weapon rack stands along one wall, its pegs holding all sizes of weapon and armor. The opposite wall hosts a massive oak wardrobe and a tall mirror next to a door. I push it open and see a copper bathing tub and basin, all on crisp white tiles.
Thyrvi rumbles approvingly, her massive form barely fitting through the doorway. She pads to the center of the room, sniffing at the furs. "It smells good in here."
She's right, it does. But it doesn't have the familiarity of Sarra's workshop. It'll take some getting used to, I decide.
We descend the beautiful stairs and head to the training room, where I'm stunned into temporary silence.
It's one giant hall, and my initial impression is that it is a shrine to violence.
The walls are covered in scenes of berserkers throughout history. Unlike the tasteful tapestries in the entrance, these are raw and primal, the frescos painted in colors that look disturbingly like dried blood.
The training equipment is equally as intense. Massive wooden dummies are all covered in deep gouge marks from bear claws. Above them, a sweeping battle scene spans the entire ceiling—a host of Valkyrie soaring through storm clouds, while their bear companions race across the earth below. The artist captured the raw fury of the bears, their muscles bunched mid-stride, jaws open in eternal roars. The image seems to shift and gleam, as if at any moment the painted warriors might burst from the ceiling and carry us off to Valhalla.
Just like in the vault, these images show the Valkyrie as separate from their val-tivars , not possessing them. I lean forward to see a figure gleaming behind lines and lines of Giants. The figure is fae-sized and adorned in shining armor—or jewelry? I make a mental note to ask someone about it, before the packed weapons racks take my attention. One entire wall is covered in hooks, displaying scores of items of armor and weaponry, and I run my fingers over the cool metal as I walk along.
Thyrvi knocks over a dummy, and I look closer at the floor as it skids along. It's polished wood decorated in concentric circles of runes radiating out from the center. Each ring has runes for different aspects of berserker training. Strength. Speed. Fury. Bloodlust. Control.
"Look," I say, pointing to a series of large hoops suspended from the ceiling. "Those must be for practicing aerial combat. This is…" I trail off, unsure how to finish the thought.
"Exactly what we need to become legends," Thyrvi finishes for me, prancing to another dummy and swiping it with her paw. It tips over and the wood splinters apart. She cocks her head. "We may need sturdier practice opponents."
I smile. "I'm not sure these ones have been used recently."
"Then it is time they were."
Her enthusiasm for violence is alarmingly infectious. That now-familiar exhilaration at the thought of fighting, and winning, is something I am starting to accept. Crave, even. But the violence that radiates from this room, the savagery depicted in the painted images, is a step deeper than just a desire to fight. And it doesn't repel me like it should.
Your val-tivar is a bear, Maddy . That means you're a berserker. They're the strongest fighters in Yggdrasil .
I look down again at the runes on the floor.
Strength. Speed. Fury. Bloodlust. Control.
Like a dam has broken, excitement floods my body in a delicious rush.
I will be strong, fast, and in control.
I will earn my wings and harness the power of my bear.
I will become a Valkyrie.