Val’kyra
"Well, Halenvar and I have gained access to Eyir's vault," said Aranya, coming to sit beside her golden-eyed friend, Gran’dyne. "The val'kyr queen has given us two days to glean what we can of the magic and mech of the Titans, and yet... It may not be enough." The phoenix-mage sighed.
"I fear what she may ask, if there is more we must take than what can be committed to memory," admitted the arcanist. "The most likely thing she would ask for, in exchange for keeping records of such knowledge, would be the devotion of a new aspirant, but-" she gestured at herself "-I am a sorceress, like She whose place Eyir took in Odyn's halls."
But not in Odyn's love. Or so it appeared rather obviously to all who knew of the stormy past between the Prime and the former val'kyr queen, Helya. The bitterness between the great warrior and the sea-witch was as strong as their loyalty had once been.
"I am no battle-priestess, Dyna."
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