Peace for a memory

She could feel the ever tightening bind of their judgement whenever she slipped away from the refuge of her dwelling. Even the guard perched outside the door burned a hole through her skull with his spiteful gaze as she made haste for the forest. The whole village whispered falsehoods about Yrsa, the new wife of their chieftain. Nidingr, is how they brand her now. They cast their blame, but know nothing of the truth. Yrsa wore the hood of her cloak so low that if it was not for her knowledge of the village pathways, she would surely topple over her own swift feet. She did not want to willingly provide them with the pleasure of seeing her face racked with grief, her eyes swollen red from the endless tears shed through the night. 

Her husband was dead, but the village was none the wiser of his passing. Yet. Surely by mid morning the horrid news would reach every vindictive ear, and that is when they would be coming for her. Yrsa knew she had no choice but to escape and leave everything behind. Without a sign from the gods that salvation was coming, she withdrew to the ancient forest with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a silver dagger in her boot. 

Yrsa broke into a sprint once the view of the village was completely out of sight. It was beyond belief that she had made it this far. She knew they would be tracking her, out for blood, as soon as her husband's body is discovered lying in their hut, cold and lifeless. She was fleeing from an inevitable mob, but at the same time Yrsa attempted to cleanse her heart of the misery that had plagued her for so long by tearing through the thick of the forest. Her feet pounding the earth while her lungs fought to deliver sufficient oxygen to her blood. Her vision tunneled and blurred while panicked tears filled the canals of her ears. She could not see, she could not hear, she could no longer feel her body.

That was it, the answer to stop her suffering, a means to an end. Yrsa halted under a great oak who’s ancient limbs all but blocked out the morning sun. She stood panting and scanning the surrounding forest listening for any sign of human life. Reaching down, she removed the dagger from her boot and placed the tip over her heart. Dropping to her knees Yrsa looked to the sky. With her last burst of breath she wailed for all of nature to bear witness,

 “I am coming to join you in Valhalla my love!” Pure adrenaline guided her hand as she forced the dagger into her chest. Yrsa’s body heaved forward. She anticipated the sight of dark blood pooling out onto the soft mossy floor, but no blood or pain whatsoever emerged from her breast. The dagger had vanished.    

“Now child, why would you want to do a foolish thing like that?” An angelic voice emanated from the great oak.

Not able to stand from exhaustion, Yrsa spun onto her back so she may face the imposing tree. A woman appeared grasping the silver dagger. She was enchanting with cascading black hair, iridescent, like the feathers of a raven. Her green sapphire eyes hold the prowess to mesmerize any living thing.

“who, who are y-you? H-How do you have my dagger?” Yrsa stammered 

The woman smiled sweetly. Sheathing the dagger in the belt of her black velvet dress, she slowly approached Yrsa who sat quivering in the damp morning moss. “My name is Veleda,” she replied while crouching down to help Yrsa to her feet. “I was not about to stand by observing such a lovely creature take her life, without at least knowing why. I have always been too curious for my own good.”

“You are a seeress.” gasped Yrsa wide eyed. “When I was a girl, my grandmother spoke of your powerful seidr sorcery. Legends tell, you are the most powerful seeress of all!”

“Ah yes, my reputation precedes me,” Veleda chuckled with a roll of her bewitching eyes. “Now,” She positioned Yrsa to rest on a rock that the great oak had all but engulfed with its massive trunk, “tell me your story child.”

Yrsa breathed deep to balance her thoughts before she began, “Years ago I was taken from my bed in the midst of a dream.” She hesitated as though the mere memory may bring physical harm. “My village was sacked. My parents, murdered. By morning my sisters and I were split up and sold off like cattle. I was beaten, starved, and forced to do unspeakable things.” With her finger tips, Veleda brushed away a tear as it traveled down Yrsa’s cheek. “Endless seasons came and went with no opportunity for escape. Until one moonless night when my captor guzzled far more than his fill of mead, I found the courage and fled. When Helka found me I was at death's door, and that is where I should have stayed!”  

“Why do you feel this way?” Veleda inquired with a sympathetic embrace.

“Now she is dead. Her people blame me,” Yrsa turned to face Veleda, “Please tell me, all this death is not my fault?”

“Surely it is not. How could anyone accuse a thing so barbaric on an innocent such as yourself. Tell me, is this what has brought you to the old oak tree?”

Yrsa nodded, “Not only Helka, but Ivan as well. They will all come for me soon, once they realize I have vanished. Listen close enough and you shall hear the steady beat of a war drum as they prepare to take vengeance, the prize being my head.” Yrsa stood and walked three paces to where she first heard Veleda’s voice. “But I will not let them. I will take my own life! Vid hamri pors!” Yrsa spat at the ground.

Blackness permeated Veleda’s green eyes for a moment as she lifted her hands with both palms aimed at Yrsa, “You loved him deeply, I can feel your heart breaking. Never have I sensed pain so pure.” 

Yrsa hung her head. “Helka saved me, she watched over me as my health restored. Shortly after my arrival, she fell ill. That is when the whispers started. I was the outsider who brought sickness to their village. But Ivan, her husband and chieftain, showed me kindness even so. They both did. When Helka passed, Ivan took me in. At first our relationship was nothing more than an understanding but over a year's time we found ourselves slipping into a love so timeless that Freyja herself must have been guiding our fate. Still the village hated me. They only tolerated my presence but that did not bother me. Ivan made me whole again.”

“I see, now nothing is stopping them from destroying you to bring an end to this so called curse that you brought to their village.” Veleda sighed, “what if I told you, I can take all your pain away and give you a new life. A chance to be whole again, and only for a small price.” 

Yrsa thought for a moment, “If what you propose is truly possible then I say, I have nothing to lose. What is the price? All I have of value is the silver dagger in your belt.”

Veleda gave a chuckle, “the price my child, is your memories.”

“My memories?”

“Losing your memories will ensure that all your pain from this life will no longer torment you in the next.”

“I do not mean to offend, but what use do my memories hold for you?”

“How do you think I have remained this youthful my dear? All life holds different energies that I can gain with permission. Your memories are connected to a life and they can provide me with a great deal of energy.”

“Yes, please take them! I do not know if Ivan waits for me. I will meet a gruesome death at the hands of the village or the loss of my love will slowly kill me!” 

 “Then, it is decided!” Veleda declared with the dagger drawn to the heavens.

With a crack of thunder wind began to whirl as blackened clouds blocked out the sun. Despite its solid roots the great oak tree twisted in the cyclone that engulfed both Veleda and Yrsa. 

“Close your eyes and kneel child! When you open your eyes once more, the memories of this life will no longer haunt you. This reality will be no more than a fleeting dream that eludes your consciousness time and time again!”

Yrsa fell to her knees with her eyes clamped shut. Veleda raised the butt of the dagger to the blackened sky and drove the blade down onto Yrsa, stopping suddenly within an inch of piercing her flesh. Veleda Began to chant,

“Earth, water, air, fire, power of a witches' blade. Come thee now, cast the spell, work thee unto my desire! Open your eyes child,” Veleda’s ethereal voice echoed softly into Yrsa’s subconscious.

She breathed deep then opened her eyes. Reading over her work once more she smiled with a sense of accomplishment. It is perfect, she thought to herself, now for a title. In the title box she typed, Peace for a memory. Gently, she closed her laptop as she gazed out of an open window. A warm breeze found its way inside and fully embraced her. Something about the aroma in the spring air and the sensation of the gentle wind filled her heart with ease.