Writing a series is especially hard.

I feel like the conspiracy theory meme trying to remember all of the plotlines and who is connected to what and what details I still have to write in. People who do this successfully just amaze me.

My cover was released and I posted it absolutely everywhere except for my blog, my now main source of news. I’m blaming exhaustion, since work and recovering from cellulitis/MRSA/a sinus infection for the last month (the sinus infection has only been less than a week, the others were a month long) and taking just about every antibiotic known to man has wiped me out. So let’s do this now! Here is the cover for Axis: Book Two of the Siren Tragedies—

This whole cover turned out even better than I expected, and I expected a really great cover, having worked with this artist and designer before. The bust is of Alexandros, the father of the main character, Telese, and the main antagonist of the story. For comparison, here is a picture of Hubris, with Telese as the focal point.

As you can see, there are quite a few differences in the presentation. Telese’s bust is broken, a reference to her broken life at the hands of her father. Meanwhile, Alexandros is whole, because he has always been able to determine his own life and the lives of his daughters and granddaughters. There is also the difference in lighting, with Telese’s being more subtle, not as harsh or striking as Alexandros’s. Of course, probably the most noticeable is the difference between the ivy growing around Telese—a feature I loved for the symbol of growth and stubborn resilience—and the brambles around Alexandros—a symbol of danger and the threat of pain.

Preorders are open for paperback copies of Axis here.

Hubris is available for print or e-book if you haven’t got your copy yet.

Discuss...

So HOW I managed to develop a sinus infection is beyond me.

Not ideal.

Anyway, I’ve been using HubSpot Academy for some ideas on how to successfully market both my books and help Balance of Seven Press in general. They are currently running an IndieGoGo to help cover the next round of books and recoup the cost for legal and moving fees to get out of Texas and into Vermont in light of anti-lgbtqia+ laws. (Campaign can be found here)

One thing I would love to do is talk to podcasts and vlogs about publishing with a small-press. A lot of people are intimidated by publishing because they feel their only two routes are traditional press—which is not author-friendly—or self-publishing—which is not always financially feasible for the everyday author. I, personally, love going through a small-press publisher, as the smaller release numbers mean more time spent on your book.

Speaking of which, I’m super excited to share my book cover with everybody on Monday! I don’t think I can put videos up here, so I can’t post the cute little video I made, but I’ll post the cover and commentary.

Discuss...

Book Excerpts

Discuss...

• This blog is going to be my main outlet for updates and thoughts. For the sake of my mental health, I’m going to stop spending time on most social media sites with the exception of mastodon.
• More art! More writing! I need to get back to my hobbies.
• Audio chapter previews for both Hubris and Axis will be available soon, along with (hopefully) other Balance of Seven published books! These will be made available through YouTube and the links pinned in a post here.

• While I’m cutting back most of my social media, I’ll still be updating my author stuff with author news. If you want to follow that, the accounts are:

  1. Facebook: facebook.com/svhines

  2. Threads: sarahvhines

  3. Instagram: sarahvhines

  4. Mastodon: sarahvhines@writing.exchange

  5. Tumblr: @sarahwritessirens

  6. Discord: sarahvhines (This is where you can send me a dm if you want to say something about what you read here!)

In theory, you should be able to comment on these posts. I’m not sure how that works, but if you want to follow with this blog for updates, feel free to subscribe. It’s going to be much more active in the coming months.

On the news front, my cover reveal will be posted in 5 days! I made a little video for it, because I’m extra, so I have to see if that will post here. If not, you can always check it out on any of the above sites.

Thanks for reading! Have a picture of my character Roxias “Roxy” Zalabraxias from The Siren Tragedies as an apology for not keeping up with this blog.

Here is a snippet from the story. You can find the ongoing series at w0rmh0le Lore.

***

Pretending to be human always proved difficult for Wesley, no matter how often he had to do it.

Of course, nobody in the upper echelons was truly human anymore. Augmentation and redesign were the most lucrative markets, and everybody took advantage of summer sales on new limbs, sharper eyes and, of course, weaponized add-ons. To some extent, Wesley couldn’t blame them; the city was getting more dangerous as desperation rose in the face of the new mayor. He had given jobs to AI in order to save a dime for his important corporate backers, and the workers of Sodoria felt the strain.

Too bad it wasn’t the poorest of the city that could utilize new weapons to defend themselves. The imbalance between the two made it too easy for the richest of Sodoria to decide the fate of the poorest. Illicit markets were growing, and so was the population in the cellblocks.

As an AI, himself, Wesley was relegated to working and rebooting. If authorities knew what he was doing, they would disassemble and reprogram him before the morning. He couldn’t risk losing the empathy glitch in his most recent upgrade—having a purpose was almost addictive.

Wesley pulled the scarf and hat around his screen, covering everything but the space for his eyes, which he projected to look like any augmented eyes of the crowd. He moved slowly as to not draw attention to himself, avoiding making eye contact for too long. There was a jolt in his circuits as he made his way to the markets. The bright, neon screens advertising the newest models in augmentations or the newest smart device for the home lit up the nighttime pavilion, casting hues of pink or blue or green across the throngs of people. The hum of voices and movement echoed around him as the people, in their nicest clothes with their expensive jewelry and prosthetics, haggled for new parts or replacements, for fresh vegetables and fruits, for thick cuts of meat or for much-needed medicine. He placed his hand in his pocket, finding the parts he had taken from his shift in the AI hardware development sector.

He slid up to a usual customer; a thin man named Tess that never asked too many questions. Tess knew two things—that his clients needed their augmented limbs re-tightened and that they didn’t want the usual cheap materials that made up the commercial-grade quality. They desired government-quality parts, but these were scarce unless you paid exorbitant prices or, as in Tess’s case, knew somebody who could sell it at a discount.

“What you got today, Wes?” Tess asked, looking down at his tools as he readied them for the next client.

“Six titanium bolts, ready to go.”

“They aren’t categorized, eh?”

“Have I ever sold you categorized parts?” Wesley asked. “My contact and I would be in deep trouble if that happened.”

“Don’t know how you do it,” Tess said, not looking up at Wesley. “Don’t want to know how you do it, either. Your price is reasonable. Seven trendles still okay?”

“Still the going rate for this kind of haul, yes.”

“Great,” Tess said, wiping his brow and finally looking out of the side of his eye at Wesley. “You make a lot of clients happy, Wes. Lot of clients.”

“What can I say,” Wesley said, trying to keep the disdain he felt for Tess’s clients out of his voice, “I aim to please.”

1. I will be updating my stories. Check here for updates.

2. I will be updating w0rmh0le Lore regularly. The third chapter is already submitted for editing! If you like cyberpunk dystopian stories, check it out!

3. You will be hearing a lot more about Hubris. I have some events coming up in the D.C./Baltimore area, as well as an interview on w0rmh0le’s Summer Interview Series on Thursday, July 28th at 3 pm. Come join as I talk about writing, inspiration and being an author while navigating a mood disorder.

Those are the plans for now. Today, I officially submitted Hubris for copyright and also sent it off for a review by American Library Association’s publication, Booklist.

Exciting stuff happening all around! If you’re interested in grabbing a copy of the now-released Hubris, you can do so on Balance of Seven’s official site.

A year passed by, however, and that day still had not come. There were no crunches of footfall through the fallen leaves of autumn, no footprints left in the snows of winters, no treaded grasses of spring. She casually asked about her in the nearby village when going to do business, but the description was often vague enough to be confused with many of the women; tall, strongly built, blond hair, blue eyes seemed to describe a good portion of the surrounding towns. While waiting for customers to visit her cart, Revna would scan the crowds looking for the woman, to no avail. 

Revna longed to traipse through the woods again, despite her last experience. She felt a desperate pull toward the trees. It sometimes felt as though her feet longed to move despite her insistence that they stay put. One day, as the summer was transitioning to the autumn and the chill was back in the breeze as it had been on that fateful night, Revna could resist no longer.

“Father,” she called, pulling on the white cloak that she kept in her pile of outer layers, “I’m going to pick some mushrooms in the forest. I’ll be back in a couple of hours at the most.”

She heard heavy footsteps approaching until Njal entered the middle room of the longhouse and watched her sternly, hands balled on his hips. He was a tall figure, but much leaner than most of the Austmen. His skin was darker than Revna’s, having come from the lands of the south with the original traders and merchants that explored the seas. His dark brown eyes narrowed as he appraised her.

“You want to go out into those woods again?” he asked, his voice still carrying the notes of his original language, though the new one had replaced much of it. “Out where you told me just a year ago that you almost got eaten by a pack of wolves?”

“I won’t travel too deep into the woods this time, Father. I’ll be more careful. We’re out of mushrooms and there were none at the markets worth paying the merchants’ prices for. Not when I can find them myself for the price of a little digging.”

Njal walked toward Revna until he was right in front of her. He reached out and took the edge of the white cloak in one hand, examining it closely, and he ran his other hand over the fur. 

“I’ve never seen you wear this out,” he said, looking from the cloak to her, as though piecing together what was really happening. “Never have you wanted to risk sullying the gift from your strange friend.”

“You still don’t believe what I saw,” Revna accused, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks.

Njal considered for a moment, the corners of his mouth turned down into a scowl. “I’ve lived among many gods, Revna. I’ve heard the stories and I believe there are strange things in our world that we can’t understand. But sometimes I wonder if some of these things intend to do us harm, despite the stories we hear.”

He sighed as he looked his daughter over again. “Two hours. No more. Your mother will be back from town soon, and I want you here to help her with supper.”

“I promise,” Revna said. “Two hours.”

Without waiting for another word, she rose to her toes, kissed her father on the cheek and hurried outside. She took a quick turn to the tools, grabbed a small sickle, and made her way from the house.

She crossed the large grazing field to the trees, remembering the day that she chased the unruly pig. She stopped in her tracks, thinking of the large wolf that had snarled and stalked her. She wondered if she was making a mistake, being too foolhardy.

Then she thought of the woman who commanded the strange fire that had saved her. Her resolve strengthened, and she crossed the line from her safe fields to the unknown of the forest.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves and firs above her head as she scanned the woods. Fallen trees here and there made it difficult to discern a viable path. She took another step in and carefully scored the bark of one tree with her sickle. When she was done, she began walking deeper into the trees, stopping once in a while to score another tree. Whenever she found a patch of mushrooms, she would stop to dig them out of the dirt with her hands and put them in her pockets. Then she would stop to listen, only to hear the birds above her or the footfall of slow-moving animals in the brush.

When an hour had passed, Revna took a seat on the ground and took a deep breath. The air was perfumed with the scent of firs and leaves and dirt, warm and inviting. The songs of the birds echoed all around, and she noticed she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She felt her eyelids drooping as she leaned against a birch and yawned. She knew she shouldn’t fall asleep. If she were to stay out here too long, her father would not be pleased. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re lost again.”

A familiar voice made Revna jump to her feet, suddenly wide awake. In front of her stood the stranger, who looked no different or older than when she first appeared.No lines or age marks appeared on her face from the last time. Her blond hair was braided to one side once again, and her blue eyes narrowed at the teenager. This time, however, she wore armor under her furs. On her back was a large spear and in her hand was a shield.

Revna was stunned. She did not know that her stranger could be a warrior. She had a hard time finding her words at first.

“Well?” the stranger asked, tilting her head.

“No, no, not lost,” Revna said finally. “I was gathering mushrooms, and I just found this place to be very relaxing, so I took a break.”

She took a breath and tried to steady herself as the woman continued to watch her. Finally, the stranger looked around at the trees and up to the canopy.

“You’re correct about that,” the woman said at last, her voice pleasant and cheerful for a moment. “This area is quite lovely.”

“You can join me, if you’d like,” Revna said quickly, the words tumbling past her lips before she could stop them.

The woman turned her attention to Revna once again. Revna cleared her throat and added, “I mean, I understand if you’re too busy, and—”

The strange woman lowered her shield to the ground and sat down next to where Revna had been sitting. Revna watched her, shocked that she had taken up the offer.

“Are you going to sit with me or do you wish to continue staring?” the woman asked, looking into the woods.

“Oh,” Revna said, quickly lowering herself down to the ground.

They sat in silence for a moment. Revna examined the shield that lay just by her crossed knees. There were interesting symbols that Revna thought might be letters in a different language and the outline of a large black wolf. There were large dents across the face of the wooden shield. 

Revna couldn’t miss the crimson stains across the face of the shield. 

“Do you…do you sail with the Austmen?”

“Often,” the woman said, her voice now sounding strained and worn.

Revna was silent again, looking at the shield. The black wolves twisting around the edges of the shield sat uneasily with her. 

“Do you often come out here to scavenge for mushrooms?” the woman asked.

Revna looked back at her. “Rarely. Most of the time, I buy them from the merchants. They wanted more than I will pay, though.”

“So you will risk your skin for mushrooms, but no plans to go beyond your lands,” the woman said, and Revna saw her tilt her head and look out of the corner of her eyes.

“I’m not completely helpless this time,” Revna said, holding up her sickle. 

“A weapon like that requires close range. You should use something with a longer span.”

Revna looked down at her sickle, thinking about this point. Would she have been able to best a hungry wolf at such a close distance?

“What else should I use?” she asked.

The woman looked back out into the woods. “I suggest a spear. It’s my favorite.”

Revna scoffed. “I’ve never picked up a spear.”

The woman turned to her fully and surveyed her. “Would you like to try?”

Revna froze, staring at the woman. “You mean…with yours?” she finally asked.

The woman looked around them. “Do you see any other spears out here?”

Revna felt a rush of fear and excitement both competing for her body. She stood to her feet, not able to contain a nervous smile. 

The woman stood and unsheathed her spear. She stood next to Revna and nodded toward the tree that she had been leaning against.

“See that patch of white in the center? I want you to hit that.”

She gave Revna the spear. It was long and cumbersome in her hands and Revna had difficulty standing and holding it to position it to throw. She shifted the spear multiple times, trying to line the point up with the tree while also keeping the back straight.

Finally, she reared back and let go. The spear soared through the air and hit a nearby tree, nowhere even close to the spot. 

The woman clicked her tongue and retrieved the spear.

“You really never have touched a spear, have you?” she asked, looking at the point for any damage. She then looked at Revna, who felt awkward in her own skin.

“Come,” the woman said. “First, let’s correct your stance. Put your left foot out, pointed at where you’ll throw. Good, now twist your shoulders so that you’re facing the side.”

The woman put the spear down and placed her hands on Revna’s shoulders and gently pulled her into the correct position. Revna found it difficult to stand on her feet but managed to hold herself in the position.

The woman stepped back and examined Revna. Finally, she nodded and picked up the spear. “Now, you’ll have to know where to hold it. Balance it on your finger and where you find they balance it perfectly is where you grip.”

She took Revna’s hand and placed the spear on her fingers, adjusting occasionally as the spear tipped back and forth. With the final change, the spear sat perfectly on Revna’s fingers. She gripped the spear in that spot.

“No, no, never hold it like that. You have no control over it then. Here,” the woman took the spear with one hand and spread Revna’s fingers with the other. She placed the spear in between her index finger and thumb, and Revna noticed it was easier to hold it in this position.

“Now, you’re going to take your arm out like this. Good. Now when you throw, you’ll twist your body toward the tree and bring your arm in and forward. Let the spear move over your fingers. The last ones it should leave are these two, as they’ll guide it. Now, try again.”

Revna took a breath, concentrating on the tree. She counted down in her head and then moved all at once. Her arm came in and forward, just as the woman said. She felt the wood of the spear graze her fingers as it flew forward. She heard the soft thunk as it connected with the tree.

It had not hit the mark she had aimed for, but it hit the correct tree. Revna gasped and gave a loud hoot of joy as she stomped her foot into the ground, clapping her hands. She turned to the woman, who was looking at the spear.

“Much better. You’ll need to practice, though. Once you learn to throw it without missing, welding it as a hand weapon will be barely a challenge. Here,” she said, pulling the spear from the tree and sheathing it, handing it to Revna. “I have plenty. You can have this one.”

Revna looked at the spear. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, this doesn’t have any sort of magic that could cause us trouble in my home, right?”

“None,” the woman said. “It’s just a plain spear.”

Revna was silent, overcome with emotions that she didn’t quite understand. She looked from the spear to the woman, who watched her with a guarded look. “It’s getting late,” she said. “I have to get home. Thank you for everything. Will you be here again soon?”

“I come here often,” the woman said. 

Revna nodded. She walked toward her way back to her home, passing by the shield as she did, looking at the black wolves along the sides. She felt a nagging sensation of a question she longed to ask.

As she took another step, she found she could no longer bear it.

“You’re her, aren’t you? Hel, daughter of Loki, the goddess of death.”

The woman, who had been walking the opposite way, stopped in her tracks. 

“Your people call me by that name, yes.”

“Do you find me because you plan to take me soon?” Revna asked, feeling the fear rising in her voice as it shook.

Hel looked over her shoulders. “If I intended to do that, girl, I would have let you get eaten by wolves when I met you.” She nodded toward the spear. “Keep practicing. I hope to see your improvement should we meet again.”

Revna nodded and began her walk back to her home. 

“One more thing,” she said, turning around. But when she looked behind her, she saw Hel was gone and she was alone in the woods.

Revna stared that the spot she had last seen Hel. She had heard no footfall or breaking twigs that had shown the goddess had left. 

Revna peered into the woods for a moment more, tied the sheathed spear to her back, and followed the path back to her home once again.

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Dusk was falling over the village. The nighttime predators would soon make their way out of the trees toward any unwatched cattle or sheep. Many villagers were making their way into their homes with their livestock.

One teenage girl, however, ran haphazardly around the grazing area, trying to wrangle one errant pig that evaded her grasp.

“Come on, you stupid beast!” she called after it. “Come on inside before the wolves find you!”

Sweat glistened on the girl’s brown skin even though the night had a chill in its breeze. She ran as fast as her legs would take her, diving toward the escapee. The pig veered to the left at the last minute and the girl fell into a patch of mud, streaking her thick blouse and skirt with black dirt.

“Revna!” she heard her father call. “I said catch the pig, not become one! He’s getting into the forest!”

Revna raised her head, her black braids falling over her narrowed brown eyes. She pushed herself up to her feet with a growl and took off toward the darkening trees. “I’ll get him, Father,” Revna called over her shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

She sprinted toward the tree line and slowed to a stop when she reached the shadows of the spruces, oaks, and birches. The dim light of the setting sun barely touched the forest floor, which felt spongy and soft with brown needles under her feet. The songs of large birds—were they ravens? Crows?—echoed over her head, and an occasional snap of a twig made her stop in her tracks.

“Here pig,” she said in a loud whisper, putting one hand beside her mouth to amplify her voice while she grasped her thick cloak closer around her. “We need to leave this place, let’s go!”

She walked further into the darkness, her legs becoming shaky and unstable. She tripped over a large root and caught herself on the rough bark of an oak tree, scraping her hand and wrist. She straightened up and shook her hand, squinting through the darkness to find the runaway. 

Off in the distance, she heard the snap of loud twigs and scared scuttling. She heard no growls or any sign of wolves or bears. Most likely the stupid pig had found itself in a bramble bush. She frowned and made her way deeper into the woods toward the sound. 

When she came upon where she swore she heard it, she saw nothing. Aside from the cackling bird’s calls, the forest was silent, offering no clue where the pig had gotten to.

A creeping, prickling sensation spread across the back of Revna’s neck. She slowly turned around and surveyed the dense trees. She had been so consumed with finding the pig that she couldn’t remember which way she had come from. She searched her mind, trying to think of seeing any sort of marker—a creek, a unique tree, a large rock. Nothing came to her.

Revna’s breath came in shallow spurts. She forced herself to slow it, trying to will herself to stay calm. She hadn’t walked far. The edge of the forest had to be close by. 

She began walking, taking care to break large needle covered twigs of spruces just as her father taught her to do if she ever became lost. In front of her, she saw a ridge rising in the waning light. If she could get to the top, maybe she could see the tree line.

She made her way closer, trying to walk lightly on her feet. She felt the ground slope up and she leaned forward, reaching out with her hands to steady herself against the trees. 

She was nearly at the top of the ridge when she heard the growl.

Revna stopped in her tracks and turned to her right. Just at the brow of the ridge, glaring down at her, was a large wolf with bloody hackles raised. Just beyond it was the familiar pink skin of what it left of her missing pig. 

“Easy there,” Revna breathed, feeling every limb shake. “I’ll just be going on.”

She took a step back, and the wolf advanced forward slowly. Its grating growl rumbled in Revna’s ears and she took another step back.

She misjudged her step and fell backward, hitting her shoulder on a large tree as she rolled. She heard the snap of the wolf and quickly pushed herself to her feet, her shoulder searing in pain. She loosened her cloak and let it go, hoping to create a diversion. The wolf veered off to attack the cloak, giving her a small advantage. She ran as fast as she could, hearing the creature lose interest in the cloak already and start to run again. Around her, she heard more snapping, more barking. The whole bleeding pack was here.

Revna took her chance and grabbed a large limb of a sprawling oak, hoisting herself up despite the searing pain in her injured shoulder. She got her feet up just as two huge wolves found their way to the tree. She could feel their hot breath on her ankles as she pulled her legs away just in time. She grabbed the next branch above her head and pulled herself up, thankful for once that her father never shied away from giving his daughter the hard work on the farm. 

As she climbed higher into the tree, she looked down at the ground below. The wolves were circling, watching her with growls and snaps. Revna felt tears welling up in her eyes. She willed herself to keep control—crying wouldn’t solve anything.

She leaned against the trunk of the tree, taking deep breaths, trying to think of anything that would solve her problem. The wolves took turns trying to jump up the tree. Revna felt the energy draining from her body. She began saying a prayer to Odin that he would call off the snarling dogs below.

Just when she started to lose hope, she heard a voice saying something in a language that she didn’t know, and a blaze of blue fire lit the base of the tree. Revna watched in awe and fear as the wolves yelped and hopped back, taking small leaps toward the flames and then leaping away. Finally, one wolf ran off, the others following shortly after.

When the wolves had been gone for a few moments, the blue flames died down. Revna didn’t dare move. She watched the ground below, waiting for an answer as to what had just happened.

After a moment, a tall figure stepped into view. It was hard to make out in the dark, but Revna could see blond hair and cloaks of white fur. She pressed herself against the trunk of the tree as the woman looked up at her; her pale skin glistened in the rising moonlight as she watched Revna. 

“Are you planning on staying up there for the rest of the night, girl? Or did you want to come down?”

“What are you?” Revna called down, not budging from her limb.

“I’m the one that just saved you,” the woman called up. “I promise I wouldn’t have bothered if I intended to do you harm.”

Revna took another deep breath and took a step down to the limb below her. Slowly, she lowered herself down and clambered until she was at the last limb. She dropped to the ground, her knees giving way as she did, and she landed on her hands in the spongy pine needles, the force of her palm hitting the ground sending jolts of pain into her injured shoulder. 

She pushed herself to her feet for the third time that evening and looked at the woman standing in front of her. She was a large woman, tall and strongly built. Her blond hair was braided to one side and her light blue eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight. Revna could tell that this stranger was only a few years older than herself. 

“There,” the woman said. “You’re safe now. But hurt,” she added, frowning at Revna’s shoulder. “I can fix that.”

“What do you mean?” Revna asked, her eyes widening as she backed away from the woman’s outstretched hand. 

The woman sighed with impatience. “I mean, I can heal your injury, girl. Do you wish to carry it with you through these woods?”

Revna just stared at the woman, who placed her hand on Revna’s shoulder and muttered more words that Revna was not familiar with. All at once, the pain in her shoulder stopped.

Revna looked down at her shoulder and then back to the woman. “How—”

“Healing is not my specialty, of course. Battle is. But I can manage a little of it.”

Revna shook her head, confusion and trepidation clouding her mind. “Who are you? You’re blessed with the gifts of the gods, but you appear to me to be a mortal.”

“I am something much older than human. But there’s no fret; I pose no risk to you, as you should plainly see by now.”

Revna looked down at her muddy, scraped hands, her dirty skirt and her blouse torn from her climb up the tree.

“My name is Revna, daughter of Njal. I live on the farm outside of this forest. I’ve lost my way and I know my mother and father must be sick with worry.”

“I see,” the woman said. “I know every inch of these woods. I can lead you back home. Follow me.”

Revna hesitated. Did she dare test her luck with this stranger that could wield fire in the woods? What would her other option be? Wait for the wolves?

The woman, who had started walking, turned to Revna again. “Are you coming with me? Or do you wish to wait for the bears to find you as well?”

Revna made up her mind and followed the stranger.

They walked in silence for a while. As the darkness grew around them, Revna shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She was willed herself to stop shivering, telling herself it was not cold enough. As she focused on steadying her shaking body, there was a nudge at her shoulder.

“Here,” the stranger said, stopping to hand Revna the white fur cloak.

“Oh. I’m fine,” Revna said, putting her hands up.

“I can hear your teeth chattering in your skull, child. I have no need for this one. Take it.”

Revna took the cloak in a gentle fashion and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was blissfully warm and the weight of it also acted to comfort Revna.

“Thank you,” she said to the woman.

The woman nodded and continued walking.

“So, you work on a farm,” the woman said after a while.

Revna looked at her for a moment, then back down at her feet as she walked. “Yes, with my parents.”

“Is that what you intend to do forever?”

“Yes, sort of. I’ll be married soon enough, and my husband will help me tend to the livestock and the crops.”

The woman was silent again, and then she looked over to Revna. “Are you engaged already?”

“No,” Revna said, stepping around a large root that she could only just make out. “But the day will come soon enough that my father will start looking.”

“Hmm,” the woman hummed, shrugging her shoulders.

“What?” Revna asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“It seems nice to have your life laid out in predictability.”

“Does it?” Revna asked.

The woman looked at her over her shoulder. “Doesn’t it?”

Revna sighed. “To be honest, I wish to travel with the Austmen that journey to new lands. I always told my father that I wanted to learn to sail, and to build the boats that explore the seas.”

“But?”

“My only daughter will be here for me to cherish every day until the day I die,” Revna said, mimicking her father’s voice.

“It sounds like you have a loving father. It may feel a little suffocating, but I would appreciate him.”

“Fathers have to love their daughters,” Revna huffed.

“No, not all daughters are afforded that luxury.”

Revna couldn’t miss the note of bitterness in the woman’s voice. She felt a pang of guilt for her statement. 

She cleared her throat. “Do you live in the woods?”

The woman laughed. “No, though I spend enough time in them. I live in a nearby village. The woods bring me solitude, though. My mind is clearest when I am listening to the conversations of the birds or the elk.”

Revna smiled. “That does sound lovely. I would like to take it as advice, but we see how well my journey into the woods fared.”

“Ah, yes, humans are more prone to death than us. I can handle the more brutal side of nature. It never touches me.”

Revna noticed she could see patches of starry skies above them as the trees thinned. Soon enough, they were at the edge of the trees. Revna never thought she would be so happy to see the fires burning in her home as she was at that moment. 

She turned to the woman. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. 

The woman looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Live happily and cherish your life. That’s enough for me.”

Revna was bemused by the answer. But she nodded and said, “I’ll be sure to. Will you ever be back in this area?”

“I come around here from time to time. When I’m not traveling.”

“Well, perhaps you can come by before supper one night. My father may not want me to leave this house, but he loves hearing stories of those that travel.”

The woman smiled, and Revna thought it was as beautiful as the moon itself. “Perhaps I shall. I enjoy telling stories.”

The woman turned to walk back into the woods.

“Wait,” Revna said. “Will you tell me your name?”

The woman stopped and turned to Revna, watching her again with that unreadable expression.

“Some other time,” she answered. With that, she disappeared into the darkness of the trees.

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They were in the thick of the green forest, far from where any adventurous humans might hike by and find them. The smell of wet foliage invigorated Hel as she ran her hands over the sharp needles of a large spruce tree. She thought of the timber her bonded people used to make their homes, their boats and their tools. The fresh, clean scent of the spruce needles and the sound of footsteps across the blanketed forest ground almost made her forget where she was; she felt, for just a second, that she should pick up her spear and follow her bonded people to the boats.

She brought herself back to the present, tugging at one of her braids. The Warriors were trickling in, but there was still no sign of Roxy. Hel frowned, thinking of her sister’s hesitancy earlier. She had made peace with her own decision to retire from her position. She had gone through every meditation she knew of to ease her mind. If Roxy backed out now—

There was a hiss of whispers from the gathering crowd and Hel turned her attention to a large, sprawling oak tree. There stood Roxy, dressed in a red leather jacket with her favorite crimson lace tank top underneath. She had let her hair down, her black curls falling in cascades around her face and shoulders. Across her cheeks and forehead were dots of white paint and black eyeliner outlined her brown eyes.

Hel approached Roxy and gave her a quick hug as passing sisters and nieces offered their congratulations. Hel hid a smile as Morgan offered Roxy a forced, thin-lipped smile and a small nod. She knew the day was going to be an injurious one to Morgan’s pride.

“Glad you changed the look up a bit,” Hel said, turning her gaze back to Roxy.

“Kinda wish I left my sweater on. It’s freezing here.”

“Oh, this?” Hel said, looking around them as though she could see the temperature in the air. “This is a mild day compared to the winters.”

“Yeah….” Roxy said, trailing off as she watched more sisters and nieces arrive. Hel wondered where her sister’s mind was at the moment. Was she still having second thoughts?

Hel looked over the growing crowd but didn’t see the faces. Instead, she saw her bonded people walking through the green woods, singing songs to the gods.

One face still stood as clear as the sun filtering in golden ribbons through the trees. A tall, lean young woman with brown skin and brown eyes, her black hair in intricate braids. She carried her ax in one hand while her spear rested in its sheath against her back. She watched the woods where Hel stood, as though she could see her clearly when nobody else could.

“Revna,” Hel said. As the words escaped her lips, the woman disappeared from view, leaving a bewildered Roxy in her place.

“Um . . . who are you . . . “ Roxy looked over her shoulder and back at Hel. “Who are you talking to?”

Hel blinked, feeling as though she had lost all sense of time and place. Slowly, the present-day cleared and sharpened around her and the ghosts of the past faded completely.

“Nothing,” Hel said. “Being here just . . . stirs some memories.”

“Ah,” Roxy said. “And who is Revna?”

“Just an old friend,” Hel said. “Come on, let’s get you going.”

The crowd had taken their place among the trees, watching the circle around the large oak. Hel looked over the shoulders of the Warriors from the back. Seas of women stared ahead, standing in wait for the procedure to begin that had only happened once before. Hel had been the first Lead for the Warrior Sirens. She had taken the role when the role was still undefined. As she took the first steps forward toward the oak, she hoped she had done enough to define what they needed from Roxy.

She was aware of the stillness in the air and all the eyes that followed her as she walked down the path of needles, around trunks of firs and birches, to the old oak, with Roxy falling in step behind her. She heard the caws of the ravens over her head, those ebony birds that always seemed to find her on important days. She welcomed their presence as old friends from the days long gone.

As she and Roxy reached the oak, she turned to face the Sirens gathered among the trees. Some stood by themselves in full battle gear, some stood in groups, wearing formal attire. Occasionally, a small child would sit on their mother’s shoulders or at her hip as they watched, wide-eyed and giddy.

“Welcome, sisters, nieces, fellow Warriors,” Hel called out, her voice bouncing from the trees over the call of the ravens. She was certain that, with the group of hundreds, some would strain to hear her. Still, every face that she could see seemed to brighten as she spoke.

“Since the days that these woods were full of the Austmen building homes, preparing for battles and making their way down the treacherous fjords, I have had the honor of counseling your actions, leading you in battle and being there to pick up the pieces after devastating losses.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a wave of bittersweet emotion crashing over her once again. “Tonight, that role ends. Tonight, you will find yourself under new leadership; one that was as fiercely contended as any battle we have endured. So let us find hope in this shift—hope that one day, our role in the humans’ lives will be obsolete. That we will never have to live our lives around loss and death brought by the rages of war. This is what we should always strive for as Warriors—the end of battle and the beginning of peace and prosperity. I hope you will continue to lead us toward that path, Roxias, and that you may find new ways to bring an end to humans’ suffering.”

At the last sentence, Hel looked at Roxy, and for just a moment, the young woman of her bonded people stood beside her, looking up at her with admiring eyes.

The vision was gone as quickly as it came, and Roxy again took the place of the young woman, watching Hel with trepidation as she took deep breaths.

“Roxias, your responsibility is to the women gathered here today—to provide guidance and leadership. You will answer to them as a commander and strategist. You will be their strength when they have difficulty finding it within themselves. You will train them to use both deadly skill and unwavering composure in the face of pressure. Is this a task that you can accept?”

Roxy took a slow breath, her brown eyes glowing a soft amber. “Yes,” she said finally.

Hel watched her little sister for a moment, then reached down to untie the leather strap around her waist. From the holder, she pulled out the gold-handled dagger of the Lead Warrior. She looked at it in her hands for a moment, glinting against the shadows of the trees above them. Errant raindrops gathered on the silver blade, looking like little jewels against the odd light that always emanated from the metal.

Hel took a deep breath and stretched her arms out toward Roxy. Roxy pursed her lips together, clenching and unclenching her fists repeatedly as she stared down at the blade.

Finally, she reached forward and gently picked it up. As the blade left her hands, Hel felt a weight lift from her. She watched Roxy hold up the dagger and examine it with the same awe and reverence that she had when their father had given it to Hel. Remembering the harsh warnings from the man, Hel winced. Instead of repeating her father’s threats from that day, she cleared her throat.

“Roxy, you take the weight of humanity’s blood and pain when you take that blade. May you always remember your purpose and let it guide you in every decision you make, every plan you craft and every counsel you offer.”

She turned her eyes back to her sisters and nieces. “I present to you, your new Lead Warrior.”

Cheers and calls came from all around, and many stepped forward to crowd around Roxy. Hel happily stepped aside, allowing space for her sisters and nieces to offer their congratulations. She walked down the path she had walked with Roxy and made her way through the trees.

It was a long walk she needed to clear her head. The patterns of raindrops above her and the crunch of the needles under her feet took her away from present-day again. Suddenly, she was following a figure with long, black braids and dark skin, who walked with ease around the roots and dips of the forest floor.

She walked at a distance from the woman, careful to not be detected, but not wanting to hide more thoroughly. When at last they reached the edge of the forest and the rocky ledge of the fjord, the woman stopped and looked down at the waters below. Their rushing movement was almost deafening to Hel as she stood just at the edge of the trees. The raindrops were gone and in their place, the twittering melodies of songbirds played around them.

“I know you’re here,” Revna said in that confident, unafraid way she had when she spoke to the gods. “I can feel your presence.”

Hel hesitated for a moment, then took a step out of the trees. Revna didn’t turn around to look at her, but kept her eyes on the waters below.

“You’ve not changed, Deathless One,” Revna said over her shoulder. “Why do you seek me out?”

Hel found she wasn’t even a little confused by Revna’s question. “Even those of us who’ve lived forever still long for certain people we once knew. Is this strange?”

“You should be used to the fleeting nature of life. You were the goddess of death.”

“A title that you humans gave me,” Hel said, feeling a pang of contempt rise within her. “Not a title I ever asked for.”

“It was under your watch that the deaths mounted, was it not?” Revna now turned to look at Hel fully, her brown eyes still full of admiration and fondness. “You saw the battles and losses of our people.”

Hel was silent, as there was no way to argue. From where Revna stood, Hel walked in death’s shadow wherever she went.

Revna stepped toward Hel, reaching out to place a hand on the Siren’s shoulder. “You’ve grown weary of your place? Didn’t you always tell me that life should be lived with honor and never regret?”

“Your life, Revna. You were just a human with such little time to waste. I’ll have plenty of time for regrets. I’ve seen civilizations come and go, and I’ve had a hand in the destruction of many of them. I’m tired of seeing death around me. I miss the joy and celebrations, the songs, the dancing, the stories laid out for generations. That’s what I treasured from my time among humans.”

“It’s as you said, humans’ lives are short. We celebrated and suffered alike,” Revna said, moving her hand from Hel’s shoulder to her cheek. “Some lives may have been long-lived, some may have been cut short. But we lived. Nothing you did ever took that away.”

Hel looked at Revna, just as she had seen her last. “Yours was too short.”

“Not compared to many. And I wouldn’t have traded my life for any throughout time. I treasure every moment that I was given, and most certainly every moment I stood before you. I hope that someday, you can find this happiness.”

Revna leaned forward, and Hel closed her eyes. She felt the brush of lips against her cheek.

When she opened her eyes again, Revna was gone. The birdsong had stopped and the rain was falling. Hel stood alone in the rain at the edge of the fjord.

She lowered herself to the ground, feeling the wet grass underneath her and the chill of the wind against her skin. She watched the evening settle over the fjord, the calls of the ravens coming from the trees. She sat there for minutes that dragged on as she replayed Revna’s words in her head.

“I hope I can, too, Revna.” she whispered and stood to walk back to her sisters and nieces.

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