Demon-Killing Sword

22.3 Ash

White amidst a sea of grey. "Muninn! Muninn," her brother called.

Muninn blinked and sat up. Her shoulder complained the move, and her back ached as it ground against the tree. "You," she started, then frowned. No, he didn't poison anymore. Sigurd, that was Sigurd's memories.

"I?" Huginn asked.

She shook her head and slowly climbed to her feet. Dust and leaves stuck into the coat all over. Making a face, she brushed them out. Feathers molted from the coat with the leaves. It's not going to last much longer.

"I always wanted to ask. Where did you find that awful thing?" Huginn asked.

"In that town where I ran into you," Muninn replied. She adjusted the coat and stretched.

"Scavenged it from a house?" he asked, nodding.

"From a demon's dinner."

Huginn blinked. "So that's... just a...?"

"A pelt, yeah." She held it out to him. "Want to see? There's still dried-up bits stuck to the inside."

Huginn shook his head. "You're disgusting."

Muninn laughed.

Something cracked. Muninn froze, and Huginn jumped. Both of them turned toward the sound, to where the nest laid on the ground. With a second thundercrack, dark lines lanced through the egg. Snap. The lines deepened, expanded. Smaller, softer lines spiderwebbed over the egg's surface. The egg shifted, almost soft, as something pressed against it from the inside.

"Where's the sword?" Huginn hissed.

Muninn shook her head and held her finger up to her lips. She crept closer.

Chunks of shell tumbled to the leaves. Something moved in the darkness inside, a faint fuzzy shape Muninn couldn't make heads nor tails of. She grasped the sword tight and inched towards the egg. Closer. It was as large as her, a broken dome that threatened to crush her beneath it. The holes were unknowable abysses, full of danger too dark for her eyes to pierce. Her hands shook. Each step trembled.

An arm lashed through the crack, claws pointed at her face.

"Muninn!" Huginn shouted.

She punched the sword upward. No pain. It doesn't hurt.

Muninn stopped short. The blade stopped, inches from the creature's arm. A soft hand caressed her face, more curious than anything else.

"What are you waiting for?" Huginn looked at her, then at the egg. "Kill it!"

"It's just a baby. It can't hurt us," Muninn argued. She stepped back, away from the egg.

"Even a baby demon can—"

The egg split open, and a wet lump of messy fur and damp feathers spilled out.

Huginn shrieked and jumped backwards. Muninn gave him a look.

Even as a baby, the valkyrie was large. It was about the size of a colt, maybe a little larger. The human parts looked more like a toddler than a newborn, a fuzz of hair already frizzing atop its head. It scrambled at the ground, foreclaws and rear hooves jumbled together, little wings, weighted with wet baby down, flapping at the air as if it could somehow lift off. It looked at Muninn and let out a quiet cheep, almost questioning.

She reached out to it. It wobbled towards her and nuzzled her hand, then cheeped again. The hair on its head was silky soft, like the belly of a cat. Big golden eyes glimmered, innocent and full of wonder.