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A Servant's Final Gift
"Tilesa, my child, tis here above the heart that the mark of honor lays. There tis perfect young one, you have done beautifully, his family will be of comfort."
Taking the shaking maid's hand in hers did she gently guide her and give tender direction in this, Tilesa's first time, among caring for the fallen. Part of a servant's life rarely spoken or seen in life outside the walls they worked and carried on daily. It bore great meaning, a deep reverence and gift for those that had given their lives for Asgard, from those called by choice to give a last farewell to the family they served or befriended.
Earlier had the warriors been brought in, carried by those that fought bravely with them, again would be carried out the same. A somber procession though beautiful in the compassion bestowed upon them. Then the tasks began, cleaning of warriors, armor and weapons. No detail left unturned, done with devotion of those that served beside them in life.
Maya gave a smile of encouragement to the young one then strode around to all for one last check. Ah it had seemed like yesterday that this duty had fallen to her, the faces of many echoed her first time. Now she gave them her skills, empathy, and strength in overseeing this noble rite of passage.
Each warrior was adored in his armor, his weapons placed with him upon the pyre sitting on a small wooden ship. The families would place his personal belongs, friends tokens and flowers. All graven offerings for his journey to a glorious afterlife in loving homage. Upon the trip to the sea, warriors would rain down flaming arrows, the cinders rising to the heavens above. A stirring sight for the eyes, a promise for the heart they would live above in the stars forever to be untied one day. Runestones would be carved, their names and deeds never to be forgotten.
Her hand extended to brush back a wisp of hair from a young warrior's face. To young and full of life to be placed here yet he had been alive with the call of a battle, the honor of protecting his people. No greater worth could he have given, his actions and name would be revered. A soft smile she gave to him, a bow of her head then moved to the front and softly addressed all gathered,
"Thus says our All Father Odin, every one will come to Valhalla."
Compassionate eyes took each in before continuing,
"We share the joy of holding first life, we share in the honor of serving them in daily life, we share the honor of preparing them for afterlife. Each of you has done well for all our friends, family that are distinguished here today. This be your final gift, no greater honor could we ask in serving our people. No greater honor could we bare in our lives. Tis time for your lament, tis time for your joy in knowing they will fight in Valhalla this night. In seven days shall we serve the feast to celebrate their lives.
Hail Asgard, it will shine all the brighter in the sky above us tonight."
Each gave their sorrows, prayers, tears and weeping as her comfort was bestowed upon them. It was for later that Maya would open the sorrow of her shattered heart, for now it was a time for strength in leadership to those with her. A private time, a farewell from a giving servant's love only seen by the eyes of a few.
Silence fell as the warriors marched in, they shouldered the boats in unison to greet those waiting for the procession, their God's in the lead. Each bowed low in honor, their duty completed. No heralding would they know, for as silent as they came did they leave, a renewed peace within them for this gift given.
The servants of Asgard knew well the act of giving, of love, of honor. From a distance they would gather and watch the cinders rise singing sweet farewells.
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