Wednesday 24 August 2022

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 264

This week's picture prompted was created by Edli Akolli, and Albanian artist over on deviant art. He calls it Valkyrie and it's stunning. He's created quite a few stunning warriors like this one. Take a look using the link above. 

This week just a short piece on how this inspired. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

A female winged warrior standing on the top of mountain range amongst the clouds, with wings open and on display, dressed in a gold fitted tunic on the top and a long, to the floor, red skirt holding a waist-high gold sword in front of her, with the tip on the ground. It's called Valkyrie and created by Edli on DeviantArt


I fell to my knees the second I saw her. Her height, her strength, her power as she stood proud at the gates of the slain, overwhelmed me. I was already in love with her. I wondered if she would dane to let me touch her or kiss her feet, but she was too majestic. I dared not try. I was in awe. I was humbled. I was grateful to be here.

I wondered what her judgment would be; would I be going to Valhalla to join my battle mates, or would I be going to F√≥lkvangr where I could rest my weary head in the meadows? I didn’t mind as long as it was Valkyrie’s wish. Her wish was my every desire, and I would do anything to please her.

‘Soldier, are you tired with life?’

Her voice filled me. It was gentle, loving and sympathetic. I could listen to it for eternity.

‘Oh great Valkyrie, I only tire of spilling blood and avenging those who I have never met; of the drive to end life for the means of gaining land – land taken from another by force. I only tire of seeing children and families torn apart by war, or the poverty they are driven into. I tire of seeing human battle human for no other reason than greed.’

‘I feel your pain, warrior. I hoped that humans would do better. But they have not. But it is not for us to judge, it is only for us to serve.’

‘Oh but great Valkyrie, I am the one who should be serving you. You are magnificent and loyal to our cause. I would do anything that you wish of me.’

‘I wish for you to find peace with Freya and free your heart and soul of your sadness. You’re mortal work is done and you are here now in the after realm where you must take time to rest before your next task is set.’

‘I will do as you bid. I only hope that you will someday join me and together we might serve side by side.’

She laughed; a deep joyful sound that made her eyes light up and my heart melt.

‘Oh warrior, you do a valkyrie a great service with your words. It is long days since anyone has requested my presence anywhere other than here. I hope too that someday your hopes will be fulfilled.’

I was uplifted by such an answer and as the clouds on the mountain tops cleared to make way for the meadows below, I was hopeful that I would see her again. As I took my place in the sleepy grasses that Freya offered spent soldiers, I set to dream of such an event.


  1. Has this changed? It used to accept my Wordpress login. Anyway, whatever, I bloody ADORE your story, Miranda. Might just point out the errant "you're" instead of "your", but I love the feelings it gives me. Mine is less, well, uplifting:

    "When the Goddess chooses our mountain to sit upon for her monthly survey of her domain, we are of course plunged into darkness for nine days. We are entirely protected during that time, true, for who would dare delve beneath a goddess’s skirts? The trouble is, we can barely see a bloody thing.
    "We cannot light big fires, for fear of burning her unmentionable underneaths and angering her, and so small hand-held lanterns must suffice. Many young men venture up into the foothills during this time, driven by youthful lust, but without fail they report that beyond her shapely calves, the light of their lanterns reveals nothing more exciting than the Goddess’s magnificent thick bloomers, tied and frilled at her divine knees.
    "Young men are fools, and they continue to live in hope of a repeat of that long-ago day when, legend tells us, the Goddess forgot her underwear, and the village celebrated long into the night. Whether it actually happened is open to debate, but we celebrate this time annually nonetheless, running around half-naked on the fifth day of December, the Feast of St. Knickerless."