I needed a deep breath to detach myself from this entire situation. We were embroiled in an annoying dance with fate—two steps forward and three steps back. I wanted us to do more, to push forward and break the wheel before we got trapped inside this fresh hell. I missed our island. My dad. My friends. My life as it had once been. I’d never been a fan of dangerous adventures, anyway. I’d enjoyed reading about them, sure, but this was something else entirely.
Looking at Mom, I knew we were on the same page. We both yearned for Shadian boredom.
Thayen
“So, what sets Valkyries and Berserkers apart from each other, besides darkness and light?” I asked Myst. Finally, after the madness, I had a moment to think about what I’d learned regarding these entities from the realm beyond death. Years ago, I’d sworn an oath to never speak of Order and what I’d witnessed on Visio after the Spirit Bender killed everyone there. I’d buried that memory in the darkest recesses of my mind. Now it was coming back, and as I looked at Myst, the faint similarities between her and Order began to emerge. I couldn’t tell anyone what I knew, and it bothered me… but in the end, I really didn’t know that much to begin with. Only that there were three known forces of nature—Death, the Word, and Order, and that once they’d met on Visio to bring order back to bloody chaos. That was it.
Myst stared at me for a while, and I wondered if she would ever respond. I was certainly tempted to try my glamor on her, nosebleed be damned. I’d pulled it off with Haldor, if only slightly. Maybe I could do more with Myst. However, I’d like it better if she spoke truthfully and of her own accord. I loathed compelling people to speak or do anything. It was something I’d only recently realized—glamoring came with an inebriating sense of power that scared me at times. It scared me because I liked how it felt.
Sometimes, I’d wondered if the Spirit Bender had experienced similar sensations, and if those feelings had played a part in his gradual descent into pure evil. I didn’t dare compare myself to him, but still… I had to at least admit the possibility of certain commonalities, if only to ensure I’d steer as far away from him as I could.
“What did Brandon tell you about Berserkers?” Myst asked.
“Just that they’re punishers,” I said. “He wasn’t very forthcoming.”
The Valkyrie let out another dreary breath, as though she were bracing herself for something not just unpleasant, but downright excruciating. I tried to put myself in her shoes for a moment and came up with an enormous blank. My empathy was in short supply after the Port incident, especially since I realized that Myst could’ve helped us more. We could’ve worked better together, and her choice to stay away from us had… offended me.
“The afterlife, as you call it, is not exactly where the likes of Brandon and I belong,” she said. “He wasn’t very specific, I’m afraid. There is another realm before the afterlife. I imagine your Reaper friends have told you the same thing, that they know little to nothing about it, and that they’re not privy to the information.”
I nodded. “That is weirdly accurate, yes.”
“It’s the general message they get whenever they try to peek behind the curtain,” she chuckled softly, and I was charmed by her smile. I was supposed to be angry with her, but as Myst opened herself up to us, I found it difficult to stay angry. “Some of them have tried, though their death magic isn’t powerful or delicate enough to breach into Purgatory, let alone the actual beyond.”
“Purgatory?” Astra asked.
“A tribunal of sorts,” Myst said. “It’s where Valkyries and Berserkers dwell. You see, your living realm has you to keep some kind of order. Supernaturals, as you call yourselves.”
“You seem to know a lot about us.” Viola raised an eyebrow.
Myst nodded once. “I’ve carried many of your warriors into the afterlife.” That statement made my stomach tighten. “Purgatory is a waiting room of sorts, where a soul’s deeds during life are studied, judged, and decided upon. Order is the supreme authority, and Order handles the actual trials of the souls that Reapers send over. Valkyries and Berserkers have no business there. We’re the executive forces, so to speak. Those deemed evil and beyond forgiveness are handed over to the Berserkers, hence why Brandon told you he’s a punisher.”
“They punish evil souls,” Astra murmured, her eyes dark and round with pure wonder. It was hard not to get sucked into this story, especially when we knew it was true. Myst was giving away precious secrets, likely to earn our trust. I had a feeling she needed our help, too, otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered to help us the second time around.
“Yes and no. They torment evil souls with darkness and misery and nightmares before they toss them into the afterlife. I cannot tell you much about that, but I can tell you that every soul that passes through the Berserkers’ hands leaves with the Berserker’s mark on their soul,” Myst continued. “Whereas we, the Valkyrie, carry the good, the kind, and the innocent into the great beyond. We grant them gifts of spiritual value. We sing songs of their glory. We crown the champions who have fought to save lives.” She paused to look at me for a moment, and it felt deeply personal, like she was about to say something else, something aimed at me directly. However, she chose not to. “Berserkers and Valkyrie are opposite forces. They’re darkness, and they feed on darkness, whereas we’re light, and we feed on light. I suppose the way our weapons and powers function is the clearest example.”
Richard cleared his throat, raising a hand slowly as if we were back in school. “What do you need weapons for in Purgatory? I mean, souls are souls. They’re practically helpless.”
“There are other threats. Purgatory isn’t clean or perfect,” she replied bluntly. “And, if I’m to be perfectly honest, the Valkyrie and the Berserkers do not always get along. We maintain a fragile peace, and we’ve gone to war before. Order allowed it at first, for amusement, mostly. But our wars once nearly spilled into the world of the living, and we were forced to form a truce.”
“Did Order make you?” I asked. It would’ve been nice to have Tristan and Unending around for this, but alas… I only had myself and a very blurry memory of a most horrible day to work with.
“Sort of. We’re souls. We were once living, ages ago. Order plucked us out of the stream and gave us purpose, though I am unable to tell you why she chose us, specifically.”
Jericho groaned softly, rolling his eyes. “Oh, hell. All that Viking mythology… I knew I’d heard your names before. Valkyries, Berserkers. Norse legends are full of your kind! How’d that happen? Did it have something to do with that war you mentioned that nearly spilled into the world of the living?”
“Yes, and that is where I must end this conversation,” Myst said sternly, straightening her back. “I cannot say more, for I have already broken my vows. I would like to be able to return to Purgatory when this whole chapter is over.”
I wanted to ask more. I could’ve compelled her, maybe. Or I would’ve passed out trying. Either way, I had to appreciate her openness. Finally, we had a better understanding of who she was, of who Brandon and Haldor were. “What are you and your people doing here?” I asked. That was the gazillion dollar question, after all.