Helga stood outside the tent off the ancient one. It was the only one who braved the journey across the ocean, saying it was their fate to be here. "Come in." Helga's hesitation was broken by the old withered voice of the old being. Helga took a deep breath. She knew that they were eccentric beings and anyone who met one always walked on eggshells whenever they did.
Helga pulled the tent flap open. She felt like she returned home. The drawings and paintings lining the tent told tales of her homeland and the past. The smell was of herbs only found across the Great Lake. The wood smell was of the forests she grew up in hunting.
Looking at the being sitting cross-legged on the ground she took a step back. He was a terrifying-looking. His sunken eyes looked hollow, darkened from the black paint surrounding them. His skin was wrinkled and dry. His lips a poisonous green colour. His bald head covered in a black hood. "Sit." The old voice spoke, pointing to the place before him.
Helga nodded following his orders. In front of this man, she couldn't feel anything but fear. She didn't know where it came from but it was something she never wished to find out. The ancient one reached into a bag on the ground pulling a green herb out. Placing it in the hanging bowl of fire, he threw it in, creating an earthly smell around the tent.
Helga watched, interested. The old man placed the more herbs inside, not saying a word yet, just letting the smell permeate the air. Helga felt her vision go blurry as she saw two beings sitting in front of her. "Your mind is split." The old voice spoke, assaulting Helga's mind. Every word caused a splitting headache. "Human. Divine. You seek both when they are incompatible."
"What am I?" Helga asked in her delirum. She couldn't make sense of her surroundings, not knowing which way was up or down. A third herb was thrown into the fire, a sweet smell feeling the air. Helga felt her raging mind calm. She looked down at her hands, still seeing multiple.
"The God Bound. The Summoner. Erikdotter. Future Queen. Delusional Fool" His mystical voice flew glided through the air. The old man dipped his finger in a bowl of red paint next to him. Placing his finger on her forehead, he dragged a line down her nose, down to her chin. Dipping again he dragged from one end of her eye to the other. "The path of the divine means to not be human. A fool, but mortals who wish to become Gods are all fools."
A fourth herb was thrown into the fire, a bitter smell operating the air. Helga's breath quickened. Her mind was spinning. Her face slowly formed a smile. Divine. The journey, her path. It was being given to her. She was ecstatic. She knew it was meant to be. She knew that she must be divine. "The blood of old and new fight. Purge one and the other will dominate." Every word he spoke reinforced her belief. "Those on the pantheon all must sacrifice something."
Throwing the fifth herb in he pushed Helga on her back with a stick, forcing her to look at the drawing above of the Gods. "Hakon and his emotion, Bjorn and his sword, Asmond and his wife, Sigrid and pleasure, Steffen and his feet, Floki and his children, Ragnar and his desire, Olia and her beauty. All sacrifices in the pursuit of the divine."
The images of the Gods above began to move. Helga felt she could feel each one's emotions. The sadness, bitterness, pride, joy, anger, happiness. They all expressed a different emotion and a different story about what they had done. She felt tears in her eyes. For once she felt that she was breaching the divine, finally understanding what it meant to be one. Their words, feelings and stories, only she on this earth is blessed to hear them.
With an ecstatic smile, she sat herself up looking at the Ancient one. "What must I do?" Her mind was convinced. It was the only way forward for her. Her destiny is to be alongside them on the pantheon. The ancient one grabbed the final herb. It released a putrid smell when burnt.
"One cannot be human and divine. You must choose. Be Erikdotter or a God. Cut the new blood out and let your mother's blood of old flow. Sacrifice what you have left." The ancient one word pierced her skull. Her vision slowly cleared up, finally seeing straight. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes.
She knew what she had to do. It was the one obstacle in her way, the one thing she knew that she had to destroy. The greatest danger that opposed her. Her heart ached but a fury soon consumed it, a rage burning behind her eyes. "I thank the wise one," Helga said with a deep and respectful voice. The old man laughed at her thanks. As she left it grew louder, echoing in the camp.
Helga walked to her own tent, grabbing the robe. She took the mirror that had been stolen on a raid and looked at herself in it. The red paint across her face wasn't enough. To reach what she wanted, she knew that she had to look the part and distinguish herself from the humans around. Grabbing the paint at the side, she finished the paint on her face. Making her lips redder. Streaks of paint under her eyes in parallel to the one down her nose.
Reaching into a chest, she looked at the jewels and ornaments stolen during her journey. Golden earrings dangled from her ears. A ferronnière with a red jewel placed on her forehead. Putting on her best amour, she grabbed her fur, dripping it over her back, connecting the two ends around her chest with a silver chain.
Once more she looked at herself in the mirror. A smile formed on her face. She was different from the rest. Beautiful, strong and blessed. Grabbing the ceremonial dagger, she left her tent, walking towards the ceremonial stage. A small gathering was around it, with a small sacrifice going on. Walking up the steps, she looked down at the man offering an animal.
He looked up, shocked by her appearance but the cold voice ordering him to leave, shocked him. He didn't know why but he left the stage without batting an eye. Helga looked at those below, looking at her starstruck. "Gather everyone. I will be hosting a special ceremony. Prepare the best sacrifices for me." Those below just nodded. They didn't understand what it was, but the woman on the stage was different from how she was before. It wasn't her attire but a deep personal change.
It took an hour for everything to be ready. A large crowd circled around Helga, many looking at her in worship and amazement. Erik looked at his daughter in worry but held his tongue afraid of what might happen if he spoke up. Frode was stuck staring at her, unable to even blink, his desire growing even more. Knut was unbothered and Halfdan felt strange. It wasn't long ago they spoke and such a drastic change occurred in the small time.
"Today is a special ceremony. The Ancient One spoke and I listened." Helga spoke, silencing everyone. Erik heard her words, his breathing getting heavier. He knew the power their words had on people. "For too long we have been clutching at the past. No more. The Ancient One showed me my path. I am not like you humans. I have spoken to the Gods. Felt what they felt, saw what they saw. They wished for me to be by their side and today I will join them. The Gods will return once more and lead you."
Her words got confused mutters. "Bring the sacrifices." Helga's words got a couple of screams from the background, as a man and woman were brought to the stage. It was massive. She had made sure it was quickly expanded by placing numerous sacrificial stages next to one another to prepare for this.
The men had been prepped on what they were to do. They tied the sacrifices to poles, gagging them. Once in place, they retreat down. Helga pulled her dagger out. She looked at the people before her. It was one of the final steps she had to take. Cast away the human side of her.
With a deep breath, she plunged the knife deep into the man's chest, cutting it open. Reaching in she pulled the man's warm heart out. Blood fell through her fingers as she held it up for the crowd to see. Bringing it down, she took a bite out of it, much to the disgust of the onlookers. They watched in horror as Helga devoured the heart with an emotionless face unable to look away.
Unlike before when she drank blood, Helga took no displeasure in the act. She knew it was a step she had to take on the path she wanted to walk. With the final bite, her face was covered in blood as she walked to the next person. The woman tied to the pole looked in horror as the bloodied Helga, raised the dagger.
"Stop it." Erik couldn't take it anymore. He looked up at his daughter who had completely lost herself. He regretted everything by this point. If he knew things would become like this he would have never let her take the lead on the first ceremony, never called the Great Adventure. "You are not a God, Helga. You are my daughter. This has gone too far." His voice was full of worry and sadness.
Helga looked down at Erik, her eyes cold. 'I knew it.' The thought ran through her mind. "Why do you deny me, father? Do you fear me? Wish for all the glory yourself. You wish to take everything away from the people around you so only you can be remembered in history, even from your own blood." Her voice was sad, but looking at everyone who looked at Erik with suspicious eyes, she smiled internally.
Erik was lost by the sudden accusation. "Of course not. I just wish for the best for our people."
"Then why do you hinder me? Every ceremony and sacrifice we have, you wish for me to sit out despite my blessed nature. You take a passive role in our conquest as if you fear or feel sympathy for those around you. Every step you have taken actively goes against what you say, but you claim to be doing this for us."
The other looked at one another. Halfdan smiled, seeing it as a chance. "Erik. I have tried to stay silent. To respect your honour. But you are the only one who wishes to leave this land quickly without setting up a permanent residence. Me and Frode see what could be the base of our new home and you wish to march the opposite way. Deny us the chance to join our ancestors as heroes in a foreign land."
Frode was next. He looked up at Helga, knowing it was a chance to impress her. "You have become a craven. Once a respected warrior, now wishing to use his words instead of the sword." Spitting on the ground he looked into his eyes, "You disgust me." Knut stayed silent, a slight pained expression on his face.
Helga watched this trying to hide her smile. Finally, the main obstacle in her way was about to fall. She couldn't understand why her father had changed but she knew that it was because of her. Helga took a deep breath raising her arms. "My people. If you truly believe in the Gods and my connection to them, then I ask you this. Apprehend Jarl Erik."
Her words were cold, and Erik's betrayed face looked up at her. Frode was the first to act followed by Halfdan, who took his weapons and threw them to the side, throwing him to the floor. She took a final glance at Erik before turning back to the sacrifice. Plunging the dagger deep, she pulled the heart out, eating it, looking at Erik in the eyes as she did.
His heart collapsed seeing this. His daughter was gone. He didn't recognise the bloodied figure on the podium now, instead seeing a demon. His memories of his daughter flooded his mind as he closed his eyes, drowning out the surrounding sounds. His family which he loved was all gone, dead. He didn't know when but he had become the last one.
Helga swallowed the final bite. Looking at the silent crowd she smiled. "All the Gods sacrificed something great to them to ascend the final step. Today is the day I do so as well." Jumping off the front of the podium, she walked closer to Erik. Those holding him down inched back, scared of the closing woman. Kneeling down, she placed her hand on his shoulder.
Erik opened his eyes feeling the gentle tap. Looking forward he saw his daughter's cold eyes. Yet deep in them he saw a sadness. Bringing her head next to his, she gave a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Forgive me, father. And thank you." Helga plunged the knife deep into Erik's chest. Blood came out of his mouth, as he looked up at her face. Sad, betrayed and confused.
He fell to the ground looking up at the two moons. Tears fell from his eyes as memories of his family flooded his mind. "Aslaug." The name of his wife escaped his lips. Slowly the world went dark. He could see the smiling faces of all his children bringing a smile to his face.
Helga watched. Her eyes lost all emotion in them as she felt her heart go cold. She thought she would be happy killing Erik. He was the main obstacle in her way, someone who wished to hold her back. But she felt sad. She remembered her time in the Ancient One's tent. Many of the Gods felt sad when they made their sacrifice and she finally understood why.
Despite that, she looked at the two moons. They glowed brighter than usual and she knew, that she was finally accepted in the pantheon. Closing her eyes she stood there, everyone looking on, waiting for her.
"The bringer of the new age." Helga looked back down quietly observing the people. "The Gods have titled me. 'The Bringer of the New Age', Helga. They accepted me alongside them." Her voice was low but powerful.
Everyone looked at her. She shone in the moon and firelight. Her bloodied face made her look fresh out of hell, but her aura was noble and divine to them standing there.