Mead Hall

Vaalea laid on her back upon a field of newly born grass, staring at the darkening sky and the emerging stars. Her hand rested on her chest, holding the wooden piece she had found from the bottom of the river a few days prior. She lifted it up against the sky and her eyes trailed the strange runes carved into it’s surface. She then lifted her other hand next to the wooden piece, and her gaze shifted into the cup of her palm. The wound in it appeared sickly and swollen, despite her great efforts to clean it and heal it.

Flowers of the Spring
Of Haedley

Introduction

Ysle and the lads have gone to sleep, leaving the usual mess to clean up. Ah, well, it's my job after all, and men have other things in their mind, more important things. It feels heartwarming, even, to tidy up after them - like they were my family. A family I care for, a family I belong to, and that I help in every way I can.

It almost feels like I'm still in my home, with dad, and brother. And even sister, yes. Even her.

I wish I had a sister like Ysle. Strong, yet not silly; with a family of her own, and not the stupid ideas of a rebellious little child.

1 Of the Knot and the Troll begins here the tale
And not to forget of a woman of Dale
Skjalddís the Snjógvurdreiki she was called
Men light of heart who beheld her were appalled

2 She was high in growth and mighty of hand
Also the Knot came from the very same land
Alfknutr, the Ælf-Knot he was named
Stolen the secret of elven rope he claimed