Valkyries

They descend from the sky like crows clothed in starlight, Valkyries, the choosers of the slain. Neither mortal nor fully divine, they ride through smoke and ruin to gather the worthy dead. To the fallen, they are salvation or silence. To the living, a promise made in blood. Sent by Odin himself, these warrior-maidens soar above battlefields, armor gleaming, eyes sharp, unflinching. But they are not merely messengers of death—they are weavers of fate. They do not just carry men to Valhalla; they decide who belongs there.

Each Valkyrie is a thread in the vast tapestry of fate. Some are gentle, offering warriors a final kiss before death. Others are fierce, shadows of war given shape and voice. The sagas name them—Brynhildr, Sigrún, Hildr, Göndul—each with her own legend, her own love and sorrow. Valkyries are bound to duty, but they are not without heart. Many have fallen in love with the mortals they were meant to carry away. Some disobeyed Odin for it. Some were punished. But the Valkyries endure, caught forever between glory and doom. They are the song sung as swords clash, the mist before a death worth remembering.

Visual Description:

Valkyries are typically depicted as tall, athletic women clad in celestial armor—gilded breastplates, winged helms, and flowing capes that ripple like stormclouds. Their hair varies in color, from golden and braided to dark and wild, often streaming behind them as they ride flying horses through the skies. Their faces are marked with war paint or blood, their expressions serene or fierce, never afraid.

Each carries a spear, a shield, and sometimes a drinking horn to offer the slain. Their steeds are massive, often shown galloping on air or across water, hooves sparking with light. In art, they descend with wings—sometimes literal, sometimes merely metaphoric—and often leave trails of mist or shimmering frost in their wake. When they walk through a battlefield, the dead seem to know peace. When they ride, even gods pause to watch.