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Heaven... wasn't what I thought it would be.

I stood under a bruised sky on a grassy cliff's edge, watching the sea churn below me. I stared down at what I could only surmise were Viking longships. I watched the oars lift and fall as they neared.

*Is this... am I in Hell?* I thought to myself as I looked around.

It didn't seem like the paradise I'd been promised every Sunday. It looked like I was on some kind of island, overgrown and wild as though untouched by man. A distant horn blew loudly, drawing my attention back to the longships. A streak of lightning crossed the clouds preceding a crack of thunder as the waves crashed against the cliff. The misty saltspray wet my arms and the wind blew gently upon me as a raven dipped from the sky, only narrowly missing my head.

I nearly fell backward, catching myself on my back foot as I watched the ebon bird sail through the air down a clearing in the reeds. I couldn't explain why I followed, but I did. It was as though the path called to me. Like a mosquito toward a flame in the dark, where else was I to go? I only then realized that I was barefoot. I felt the soil beneath my toes as I descended the hillside and suddenly felt more alive than I ever had before. Decades of sitting behind a desk crunching numbers made simple nature feel all the sweeter. I followed the raven as the horn blew again, this time less distant. I walked down the grassy path and onto the beach where the longships ran ashore, about twenty of them in total.

Men garbed in fur and leather stood on the ships, watching me silently; expectantly.

Lightning raced across the sky, a flash of silver off of the axes on their hips. Their long beards glistened with the dew of the ocean as they watched me quietly as though waiting for me. The raven landed on the bow of the frontmost ship and cawed at me as though ushering me forward. The sand stuck to my feet as I paced across the beach and stopped at the side of the boat. The largest man among them leaned over and offered me his thick calloused hand. I took it and he pulled me aboard with surprising ease. I stood on the wooden planks and looked around at everyone as they sat back down and grabbed their oars. I jumped as the man who'd helped me up unexpectantly blew his horn again, and at the signal, the oars went to work. Before I knew it, we were out to sea, and I was only just now noticing the great structure in the far distance– no doubt our destination. I couldn't help but wonder if this was actually Valhalla. The Norseman, the longships, the runes painted on the boats; I was well studied in history and the distinctions were unmistakable.

When we pushed ashore, the raven took flight yet again, flying up the winding path toward the great hall. The men on the boats disembarked onto the beach and began pulling the boats ashore. I turned to help, wrapping my fingers along the longship's railing and pulling with the rest of them, but one of the men grabbed me gently by the wrist and pointed up toward the hall. He shimmied down, sort of butting me out of the group, and began pulling. I stepped back and watched them for a moment before turning my eyes back up toward the hall. A great fire burned proudly in defiance of the wind and rain atop its roof, beckoning me forth. The raven swooped down yet again before flying up the path. I pushed ahead, all the way up and around to the great wooden doors that towered over me.

They creaked open slowly, the laughter of men, the smell of food, and a warm glow from within washing over me. I took a deep breath and stepped through the doors. Everything around me brightened to an unbearable extent; I lifted my arms to shield my eyes. When I lowered them, I was standing before a throne, and seated in it was unmistakably Odin himself. Tall, big beard, raven on his shoulder, and one eye trained on me as I looked up at him. I looked around to find that I was in some kind of marble palace, the ocean swirling around us and the winds gently breathing salty air into the room. I swallowed and watched as he stood up and smiled, arms opened wide.

"William," he spoke softer than I expected of him. "Finally, you've come. Welcome to Valhalla."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't mean to stay quiet, but I hadn't exactly prepared a speech for Odin himself. What I wanted to express was my surprise that Valhalla even existed, but I bit my tongue. Didn't want to be disrespectful.

"Valhalla?" I asked. "But... I was aware that only great warriors were allowed here..."

"And a great warrior you *are*," he lifted a finger as he walked down the steps and moved toward me. "Or are you implying that I, the Allfather, have made a mistake?"

"N-no," I shook my head and lifted my hands. "I wouldn't imply that you're mistaken but, I certainly haven't ever considered myself a warrior! I write code for a living! O-or, at least I did... am I dead?"

"Do you *feel* dead?" he asked, placing a giant hand on my shoulder.

"... I guess not."

"You guess not," he scoffed. "Death is merely a transition, William. And I have been waiting for you to transition here for a *very* long time."

"You uhhh... You have?"

"Indeed."

I had never felt less worthy of anything in my life. To be called a warrior by Odin would have been at the bottom of my list of things I ever expected to happen to me, just underneath winning a body-building competition– because I wasn't just skinny, I was *scrawny*.

"Umm... Odin... sir?" I spoke up. "I'm not trying to say you're mistaken, but... I've never fought before. Like... even at all. Not even in school."

"HA!" he boomed. "Never fought!" He slapped me on the back and I nearly fell forward as he paced around the room. "Why... You've partaken in many battles! I have watched them through my single eye! The Battle of Hastings! The Battle of Cynwit! The American Civil War!"

As he continued, I began to understand the horrible mistake he'd made. You see, the only thing that made sitting behind a desk all day worthwhile was that my boss was supportive of my major hobby– war reenactments. I looked forward to participating all year long and I had for the past twenty years. I never got to play one of the major parts, on account of my stature, but I acted my heart out as a footsoldier. I could almost feel the history rushing through my bones as I stomped across a battlefield with my sword or my rifle.

I lifted my hand, but he just continued going on about my exploits.

"Uhh..." I interjected. "Odin, I uhh... those were fake."

He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly toward me. I felt my stomach sink. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"... Fake? Why, there was nothing fake *about* them, William! You fought stunningly!"

I lowered my eyes, "Th-thank you, but... I never actually *fought*. They were historical reenactments– uh, your highness."

He smiled warmly before approaching me, the swirling waters around us rising as he did. He placed his arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the edge of the palace toward the torrent that whipped around us. I couldn't deny that I worried for a moment that he would toss me in.

"My dearest William," he rapped his fingers on my shoulder. "Do you think me blind in *both* eyes?"

Within the waves, as though a projector screen, I began to see real battles playing out. They were centered on different men, but each of them were fighting their heart out, locked in grisly combat.

"I speak not of your current life... but your past ones."

I stared through the waves at men dying in countless battles as the visions sped up.

"Why is it, do you think," he asked as we watched. "That you've such a passion for battle reenactment?"

I began to somehow recognize some of the faces I was seeing. As though I'd known them before, but I was certain I hadn't.

"You're a battle-hardened soul, William. You've gone by many names. Carried many shields. Fought under countless banners across time. Had there been a great war in your era, I'm certain you'd have sought it."

It was a distant memory, but I *had* attempted to join the army at one point. But I had a foot disease, and they denied me. Could it be true? I could hardly believe it, but I was watching it with my own eyes. Feeling it as though their experience was coursing through me.

When I turned to face him, I was standing at eye height with him. I looked down at my body and stammered over my words. I was at least as burly as any Viking down on the beach. I looked back at his smiling face.

"Welcome home. I hope you'll stay awhile this time."

r/A15MinuteMythos

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Submitted by a15minutestory on Fri, Apr 01, 2022 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

Upon your untimely death you are greeted by Odin, who asks you personally to be their right-hand man. Confused, you wonder how you have entered Valhalla, and Odin graciously calls upon your many victorious battles. You are a historical battle re-enactor.