This was a new space.
Chelsea looked around, trying to understand where she was. It reminded her a little of a guild hall, though not the one in Junstruce. This one was darker and rougher, with long tables, heavy chairs, and weapons hung along the walls. Taxidermied animals watched from above, more than she was used to seeing, and most of them looked like things she would have preferred not to meet while alive.
“There she is. There she is. Shh,” a woman's voice said.
“Please don't be Magalesa,” Chelsea muttered under her breath.
A dozen or so people slowly materialized from the shadows against a side wall. Chelsea stiffened, then forced herself to remain still. Most of them were difficult to make out at first. She could see shapes, armor, hair, and the occasional gleam of eyes, but their features stayed hidden. They were like 98% silhouettes.
“A demon? Havoc is a demon?” one of them muttered.
“That doesn't make sense,” another whispered.
The others began murmuring among themselves, and Chelsea suddenly felt like she had walked into the wrong meeting.
“Hi, I'm Chelsea. I'm guessing you're the other Valkyr? It's so wonderful to meet you all,” Chelsea greeted.
“She sounds like a Havoc,” a different voice remarked.
Chelsea decided that was probably good.
“So, what can I do for you? My uncle said you all would try to come collect me?” she asked.
A stern voice spoke next. “He is mistaken. We will not try. We will come to collect.”
“Absolutes, give her a break. Yes, we will come to collect you. Very soon.”
“I don't think my mom will let you though,” Chelsea said timidly.
The entire group burst into laughter. Chelsea felt her cheeks heat, but she held her ground. She had seen Adriane tell the king no. She had seen Adriane look at entire rooms of armed people like they were just furniture. If these women thought Adriane would simply hand her over because they said so, they clearly had not met her mom.
“She doesn't have a choice,” a new voice chimed in. “She will need to release you, for you are Valkyr.”
“Is there an adventurer's guild there?” Chelsea asked.
“There is not,” one of them replied.
Chelsea nodded as if that settled the matter. “Ah, then I don't think I will be allowed to.”
The laughter faded a little.
“Again, neither you nor her has a choice,” another voice asserted.
Chelsea did not like that at all. She had been summoned once already by people who thought they had more rights to her life than she did. She had no intention of letting another group do the same thing just because they were prettier and had better titles than the other kingdom.
“What can the Valkyr offer me?” Chelsea asked.
They all stopped moving and Chelsea could feel their annoyance at her absurd question.
“Aside from the honor of being a part of the distinguished line of Valkyr?” one of them queried.
“Yes,” Chelsea said sweetly. “You all seem like very nice, lovely girls, but I haven't yet seen a reason to leave my home.”
No one replied for a moment.
Chelsea smiled and waited.
“I am sure your home is very quaint,” a new voice said. Her tone was calm. Chelsea could hear patience in it. “But here, you will be taught by some of the best trainers on the continent. You will be given your birthright armor and a steed that will carry you into glorious battle.”
That part actually caught Chelsea's attention.
Training from the best trainers on the continent sounded useful. Birthright armor sounded very useful. A fighting steed sounded so cool , though Chelsea had no idea what kind of animal a Valkyr was supposed to ride. It was probably not a normal horse. At least, she hoped it was not a normal horse. Horses apparently hate demons.
“That is a very tempting offer. Tell you what, I would like to invite you all to my home so we can further discuss this. Even you, Lady Sky Face. You can come too.”
Chelsea looked up.
Above the others stood a massive woman wearing white and gold armor. She was not hidden in shadow like the rest. A helm covered her eyes with two decorative wings. The armor was beautiful, but still looked made for battle. It had fitted plates, a skirt of layered metal and cloth, and feather-like details worked into the shoulders and breastplate.
She looked important.
“She is our patron goddess, and you will be respectful,” one of the Valkyr spat.
Chelsea curtsied, suddenly realizing she was standing there completely naked.
She glanced down, then immediately wished she had not. She had not been naked in front of the other gods, had she? Why was it different this time? Was it because she had gone to bed naked?
Nothing could be done about it now, so Chelsea straightened and pretended she was not horribly aware of every person in the room.
“My apologies. Lady Patron Goddess, you are welcome to visit my home as well.”
The goddess did not answer right away. She only watched from behind her helm.
Or at least Chelsea assumed she was watching.
“Very well, Havoc,” one of the Valkyr said. “We will come to you in Junstruce.”
They knew where she was? That felt disconcerting.
If they knew where she was, what was keeping the other kingdom from knowing?
“Any idea when you'll arrive? I want to make sure I clean the baseboards before you arrive,” Chelsea asked.
One of them laughed as the entire group faded away, leaving her alone in the guildhall space. The shadows settled back into place, and the long tables, mounted animals, and hanging weapons were all that remained.
Chelsea stood there for a moment, unsure what she was supposed to do next. Wake up? She shifted awkwardly, looking around. Well this was weird. She had always just woken up when she was done talking.
She walked over to one of the tables and sat down. The wood was smooth enough, but there was something deeply uncomfortable about being naked on a chair in a dream that might also be a divine realm. The cool surface pressed against her thighs, and she shifted awkwardly, trying to ignore it.
Then someone entered. Chelsea turned toward the sound of footsteps.
It was the wing-helmed woman who had been watching the Valkyr interaction from above. She was tall. Very tall. Taller even than Dewey. She moved with confidence, crossing the hall like every weapon on the wall belonged to her and every beast mounted above the tables had been slain by her bare hands.
As she approached, Chelsea took a better look at her armor. The breastplate was polished metal worked with white and gold designs, fitted close without looking delicate. A white cape fell from her shoulders, and beneath the armor she wore layered leather and cloth that moved more like a battle skirt than a gown. Plate covered her boots and forearms, and feather-like details were etched along the edges of the metal. The helm was the most striking part. White wings swept forward from either side and crossed over one another, covering her eyes completely.
She looked exactly like what Chelsea imagined a goddess of the Valkyr should look like.
“May I sit?” she asked.
Surprisingly, her voice was not as deep as Fiona’s. It was calm and clear, with a little warmth to it.
Chelsea nodded toward the seat across from her and added, “Please.”
The woman sat down and removed her helmet, revealing long black hair that fell over her shoulders. Chelsea expected eyes or maybe even empty eye sockets? The wings gave off I’m a blind god vibes.
She did not expect TV static.
Every part of Freya’s eyes looked like flickering gray and white noise, constantly shifting without pupils, irises, or anything Chelsea could focus on for more than half a second.
“I'm so excited to have a Havoc again,” the goddess said, setting her helmet on the table beside her. “You lot are the only Valkyr worth talking to. Passions are okay, but so…” She sighed and continued. “no, I prefer Havocs. You're a champion, aren't you?”
Chelsea had to drag her attention away from the static in Freya’s eyes. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“My Valkyr appear as shadows in my domain, where champions appear fully formed and apparently very naked,” she answered. “The name's Freya. I was a champion at one time too.”
Chelsea stared at her.
“I'm sorry?” Chelsea said, flabbergasted. “But you're a... goddess!”
Freya shrugged like that was only somewhat relevant. “If you ask most of the other gods, I'm not really a goddess.”
“Freya?” Chelsea repeated, trying to make sure she had heard that correctly. “Not like an altered version of it? Just Freya, the Norse mythology goddess?”
Freya’s expression shifted into confusion. “What was the name of your previous world?”
Chelsea leaned forward a little. “It has a couple of names? But we call it Earth. It's in another panthe...”
“Oh my gods, me too!” Freya yelled.
Chelsea jumped.
Freya slapped both hands on the table, suddenly looking far less like an untouchable divine warrior and far more like someone who had just found another person from her hometown in a foreign country.
“I died in 2014 and was reincarnated here. What year was it when you were reincarnated?”
“Oh, I was summoned. It was 2026,” Chelsea answered, her own excitement rising before she could stop it.
“Whoa. Twelve years have passed.” Freya leaned forward, static eyes somehow brightening despite having no real expression. “I need all of the gossip. Tell me the big news from Earth.”
“Okay, umm, 2014. Big moments. I was only six, so let me think. What country were you from?”
“USA. I died in a house fire in… umm… what was the…” Freya looked confused for a second. Houston? Was that a place on earth?”
Chelsea’s excitement faltered. “Yeah. Houston is a city. I'm so sorry to hear that.”
Freya waved it off, though not in a way that made Chelsea think it had stopped mattering. More like she had had a very long time to sit with it and did not want the conversation to stay there.
Chelsea nodded slowly and tried to think of what counted as important news to someone who had missed twelve years of Earth.
“Umm, let's see. In 2016, Donald Trump became president. Then Joe Biden. I don't know if you remember, he was Obama's VP. We went through a pandemic in 2020. It was called Covid-19. It was like a really bad flu. Everyone wore masks and stayed in their homes for months, then Donald Trump was elected again,” she said, then paused. The list sounded insane when spoken out loud. “I don't know, what were you into?”
Freya leaned back, considering the question with far more seriousness than Chelsea expected. “I was really into pills and going to the club? Was weed legal yet?” she asked with a laugh.
Chelsea laughed along, mostly because the question caught her so off guard. “I am the opposite of the person you want to ask. I'm eighteen and was number two in my class until Magalesa...” She waved a hand vaguely at her horns.
Freya’s humor faded into curiosity. She wasn’t disgusted, which Chelsea appreciated. Most people either stared too long or tried not to stare at all, which somehow made it worse.
“Wait, yeah, we didn't have demons on Earth. How did you become one?” she asked.
“Magalesa is an idiot, that's how. She wasn't paying attention to the summoning, and a second summoning happened at the same time,” Chelsea sighed. It sounded worse every time she explained it. “Honestly, it's fine now. I don't hate being a demon. I have an awesome family and a girlfriend who is the sweetest. So, is that why you're Freya, and there are Valkyries? Because you’re from Earth?”
“Valkyries. I haven't heard them called that since I was on Earth. Yes, I was a history major and loved Norse mythology, and when presented with certain opportunities, I went for them.” Freya held up a hand before Chelsea could respond. “Hey, but seriously, thank you so much for choosing my class. The competition in the ultra-rare category is rough. People get offered crazy stuff. I'm lucky the Valkyrs have such a following.”
Chelsea leaned forward a little, more interested now. “Oh, so you designed the class?”
“Yeah! Oh, I'm curious, what were the other two options?”
“Uh...” Chelsea thought for a moment. She had been a little distracted at the time by the whole being offered life-altering magical murder careers thing. “One was a Reaper of Carnage or something like that.”
Freya’s relaxed expression vanished. “A Carnage Reaper? What the hell did you have to do to get offered that option?” she asked. The static in her eyes shifted faster, which Chelsea was beginning to think might mean surprise. “That involves eating people and killing them with your bare hands.”
“Oh, well, yeah,” Chelsea laughed. “This is where I'd usually pull out a human heart to show you. I eat humans.”
Freya went still for a beat. “Ah,” she said sheepishly. “Like for real? I know demons eat humans… but you used to be one. Isn’t that weird?”
“Yeah,” Chelsea replied. “It’s super weird. Regular food turns my stomach, though. My girlfriend eats apples, and the smell of them makes me want to vomit. I seriously miss the taste of apple.”
That was one of the few things that still bothered her more than she liked to admit. Apples. Bread. Warm meals that did not involve somebody's organ. She had adjusted to plenty of things in this world, but every once in a while, she would smell something sweet and normal and remember she could never enjoy it again.
“What was the other class?” Freya asked, trying to change the subject.
“Some hyper-rare class. It was a word I wasn't familiar with. Something of Cataclysm? I think it started with an A?”
Freya’s static eyes widened as she gasped. “You were offered the Arbiter of Cataclysm spot?”
“Yeah, why? Is that as bad as Carnage Reaper?”
“It's the opposite. It's one of the most coveted classes there is. Hyper-rare means there is only one of it at a time in the whole pantheon.” Freya leaned back, looking at Chelsea in a way that made her suddenly uncomfortable. “You’d basically oversee disputes between minor gods and god-like beings. Your decision would be law. If they acted out against it, you would destroy them and everything they hold dear. It's a god-slaying class. You must be doing something right. What level are you?”
“Mom says I'm not allowed to say,” Chelsea answered immediately.
Freya somehow rolled her static eyes. Chelsea had no idea how she managed it without pupils, but the emotion came through perfectly.
“You know I can just look, right? Let's see here...” Freya’s attention shifted slightly, like she was reading something Chelsea could not see. Then she paused. “You're level one? What the hell?”
Chelsea shrugged.
Freya kept staring. “You have a soul-marked enhancement and ailment. Did you know about those?”
“Yeah. Read the ailment first,” Chelsea said.
Freya’s expression changed.
“Oh shit. Are you okay?” she asked, and for the first time since sitting down, she sounded less like a strange goddess and more like someone who had just realized the joke was not funny anymore. “How did you gain access to this class? There are a ton of prerequisites.”
Chelsea did not really know how to answer that. She shrugged in response.
Freya paused for a second, still reading. “Uh, I can't see anything about the enhancement. What is it?”
“It's really, really good and kind of cancels out the not leveling thing and then some.”
Freya stared off for another moment. “Bodarex. That explains everything. Wow, A-rank merchant. Blessed Demon Child?” Her mouth twisted slightly. “That reeks of Magalesa and...”
Her face shifted into surprise.
Chelsea sat up a little straighter. “What?”
“Who is this person you keep calling mom?” Freya asked.
“Adriane Wixx.”
“No shit?” Freya asked, genuine recognition cutting through the question. “I saw it said Wixx. They are one of my most powerful families, but I never knew how big and extensive the family was. That makes sense why you have a call.”
Chelsea blinked. “Call?”
“Hmm?” Ivy murmured against Chelsea's neck.
Chelsea’s eyes opened.
She was back in her room at home, no longer sitting naked in a strange divine guildhall with a goddess from Earth. Instead, she was tucked under warm blankets with Ivy curled against her side, soft hair spilling over Chelsea’s shoulder as the elf pressed sleepy kisses against her neck.
It was, Chelsea decided, one of the better ways to wake up.
For a few seconds, she forgot about Valkyrs, goddesses, classes, and whatever a call was supposed to be.