After the inn I went looking for answers. They were very hard to find. It didn’t take long to realize that I would need the source of my problem to get them, so I turned my attentions to Salamander. Finding the nature spirit was a problem of its own, but it was a problem to which others had already found the solution.

The old rites often spoke of summoning and conversing with spirits. My research revealed that the rituals were simple enough, but that an “existing rapport” was needed for the spirit to answer. On the front, my pact counted if anything did.

Looking back, the ritual was a terrible longshot. I’m not sure that I entirely believed it would work, but I felt desperate enough to willfully ignore my doubt. I spent a whole day collecting dry wood for the bonfire. I dug out a firepit and lined it with stones on which I had scratched runes. Then at sunset, I lit the fire and waited.

It was a small miracle in itself that I hadn’t been attacked by a Dragon during the collection process. I watched and waited as the fire burned. The very center of the pyre seemed to burn more quickly than the outside and the wood at the base quickly turned to ash. That pile shifted and some of it fell away, until a small hole was left behind, a portal into the heart of the fire. From this portal, Salamander appeared.

fire and ash washed off Salamander as the spirit righted itself. It examined the runes that surrounded the flames for a moment, runes which should have bound it in place, then floated to the peak of the bonfire on currents of hot air, turning to address me in its characteristic laid-back pose.

“You have summoned me.” There was not anger in the spirit’s unnaturally deep voice, so much as incredulity. It was, perhaps, even amused, albeit in a manner that implied it might soon give way to fury.

“Salamander,” I began, trying and mostly failing to keep my tone level. “Tell me what is happening to me! My body is changing and I know not what to. I feel a hunger that I cannot sate and my eyes glow red, even when I’ve cast off my armour.”

“Is that all? You swore that you would hunt for as long as you were able, Eisa. You gained the power to slay your enemies from that pact. You gained the ability to feast upon your enemies and to make their powers your own. You gained one more thing as well.”

The fire danced along with the spirit’s voice.

“You were given a spark of true power; an ember of soulfire.”

“Soulfire?”

“Just like you, it was content to feed on the ashes of your enemies for a time. As you grew stronger, so did it. And the brighter a fire burns, the more fuel it needs. It now shines so brightly that you can see it in your own reflection, Eisa.”

Despite the heat of the flame, I felt cold. As cold as I had felt when I had slain Grendel. Perhaps even colder still; colder than I had ever felt, since I had taken up my armour. My hands felt clammy and my stomach ached with a hunger that seemed to sap the heat from my skin. “You’re saying that I’ve grown too strong? That my hunger and my eyes are symptoms of...of my soulfire? Then I can starve it out and get back to normal? Or kill more dragons to make the hunger go away!?”

The fires were higher now, the cracks like cruel laughter and the colours more vivid. “Fire is a greedy element, Eisa. You of all people should know this. Eat an army and you’ll want two. Eat a Valkyrie and you’ll want her city. Try to take away the fuel and, just maybe, it’ll find something else to burn. Something much closer and much more valuable to you.”

“Then...WHAT!? What do I do!!? I’ll cast my fire into the ocean where there’s nothing for it to burn! I’ll stop hunting dragons and…!”

The flames around Salamander darkened all at once, the bonfire’s crackles turning to a growl as black smoke billowed from the pyre.

“...I’ll hunt spirits instead.”

“I advise you against this, Eisa. So few girls make it as far as you have, it would be a great waste to have you throw it all away with an appeal to force.”

In response, I allowed the inner fires to overtake me. My body was bathed in flames for but a moment, burning away my clothes and solidifying into my Valkyrie Armour. I reached out and there was a sword in my gauntleted hand, blade made of a blue flame that vibrated with cold fury.

In my other hand I held my Hammer, hefting it with consideration for the damage it might deal to a spirit of flame. dispelled my sword and readied the hammer with a casual, two-handed grip.

“How disappointing.”

My eyes returned to the spirit for only a moment before I was stunned by a great flash of light, a bolt of light striking the ground between us. My vision returned spotty after the sudden burst, but I could make out vague details; a shape where the lightning had struck. Wicked, jagged horns. A long, thin tail that wrapped around a spear with a long, curved blade and a shaft nearly as long as the creature was tall. Interlocked armour that showed little skin, all flecked with gold that caught the eye where it wasn’t buried under a dirty, black-brown tarnish.

Only after my vision had started to clear, and I could start to take in some of the finer details of this monster, did I hear the telltale thunder which followed the lightning that it had summoned, or perhaps which had summoned it. The sound was the cue for Salamander’s guardian to attack, a quick thrust to the center of my body that took advantage of the spear’s long reach.

I was too slow to move out of the way and the spear nicked my breastplate, gouging a shallow cut and visibly sparking with electricity as it made contact. The follow up inflicted similar superficial but meaningful damage as I struggled to find my feet and ready my stance.

Against the Ettin’s third thrust, I was able to shift to one side and swing a counterattack with my hammer, only for the creature to dance out of the way with a casual ease. All the while it twirled its spear and raked it’s blade across my chain skirt. y eyes could scarcely keep up with it, much less my body, weighed down as it was.

I banished my hammer and summoned my sword in its place, adopting a two-handed grip with my blade up, tip pointed at the monster’s head.

This time, I was able to parry the guardian’s flurry of attacks. Fast as they were, they were also choreographed. This opponent was easily read and my lighter weapon allowed me the speed to intercept its attacks. It was well enough for defense, but the creature’s was so fast that its dance left few opening to exploit. It blows came so quickly that I was unable to counterattack. Even then, it felt almost as if it were playing with me. The Ettin pranced about, making many unnecessary movements and ignoring all consequences thanks to its sheer, inhuman speed.

A steady hand would not win this fight. Endurance would not win, either; I suspected I would tire long before this creature. I could not, would not, allow myself to give into despair. I would sooner allow my fire to run wild. My sword turned red and angry and swell with wild fires. My eyes burned bright and my cloak ignited the air with explosions that propelled my every movement forward with reckless strength and speed.

There was no defense with this sort of fighting. Only the attack. I certainly took blows in the exchange, though I honestly could not tell you how many or how severe. What was important in the moment was that I could press the attack. I could forced the playful dance to falter. In hindsight, even with all that that recklessness, I’m not sure I managed to land a solid blow on anything other than it’s lightning spear. But I did press the attack at least enough to for my opponent to take me seriously. A victory in defeat, I suppose.

While we clashed, the forest around us burnt. My cloak burnt so hot that the very dirt turned to soot beneath my feet. Even this fire didn’t seem to deter the Ettin’s spear. At best, the heat forced it to maintain an extra half-step distance. Just enough, I suppose, to dodge away from my exploding cloak with its great agility.

I was overcome by emotions. Perhaps it's uncharitable to say, but I was a fool to think I could have won a fair fight. I had lost the moment I force it to take me seriously.

The monster used an opening in my charge to put a few steps distance between us, then summoned another flash of lightning with which it disappeared. I was once again momentarily blinded. The thunder that followed turned my spotty vision skyward, where the Ettin twirled and twisted in mid-air, glowing gold and spinning its spear as more and more electricity collected in its tip. With a final spin, the monster drew the weapon back and threw it as a javelin. The weapon was airborne for only a fraction of a second before I was stunned by another flash of light. When I came to, I was on the ground, in agony, with the spear wedged deep between my shoulder and collar. No vital organs were pierced, but my arm lay uselessly at my side, my sword flung out of reach and my whole body sore as if I had pulled every single muscle within it.

I reached for the calm, confident strength that first led me on this path. I could not find it.

“It’s a shame, you know? You have a lot of potential, Eisa, but you’re not very well suited to it. It would be best if we could use you to jump start some more Valkyries, but there’s that small chance you’ll do something really bad if we let you go…”

I reached for that dark rage that I had used to set ablaze my home town. I found only cold where it once had burned.

The Ettin stood over me, one hand on the spear that still impaled me, attention clearly split between me and the monologuing Salamander. It was clear that it no longer considered me a threat, but even so its guard had not completely dropped.

I reached for anything that was left in me.

“Perhaps we should just leave her in Nidhogg’s realm. At least then we’ll be able to use her later if we think of something.”

I found the endless hunger within my gut. I stopped holding it back. For the first time, I just let it consume.

My very body took aflame with dark embers, greedy and eager to latch onto anything they could. The Ettin jumped away as dirt and stone began to be consumed by the cold, burning dust. Even other fire was consumed, leaving only more embers, faint and pulsating as they eroded at everything they touched.

I felt heat return to my body as the flames consumed more and more. An uncomfortable heat, just a little too hot, that filled me with restless energy. I reached over with my one good hand, embers licking at the cracks between my armour, and pulled the spear from my shoulder. It was the only thing near me that remained untouched by my hunger.

I could feel my body shift as I stood up. My shoulder seared itself shut, agony turning into pins and needles all along my still-useless arm. Where the embers met my lips, my teeth seemed to become more pointed. Where fire licked at my hands, my gloves sat just a little differently on my fingers in a way I couldn’t quite place.

Perhaps most pertinent to the situation at hand, my cloak reformed around me as a dense blanket of black embers. It pulse and then exploded, launching hungry fire through the air all around me. Where embers landed on stone or tree they gathered and exploded once more, until they struck the armour of the unprepared Ettin, unable to evade the shear volume no matter how quickly she could move.

I could feel a tail grow from the small of my back. My flames consumed.

The creature was desperate to shed my embers, but its struggle served only to spread them further. I felt unsatisfied, unsatiated, as I brought my one good hand around its neck. I just held it in place while my embers spread and did their work.

It was with hunger that I looked passed the creature, it’s struggle weakening, towards the waiting Salamander.

Then the creature stopped moving and I found a great spear in my hand instead. A marvelous golden spear with a shaft as long as I was tall and a large, curved blade on its tip. It was a spear that had been etched into my mind since I was a child. My trance was broken, my embers smoldered and my blood ran cold.