A tale whispered to me by the sacred voices of dead men. Down from the grey beginnings of this world among the children of men lived two fair daughters, sisters of one house.

As children they lept and ran as well as any other children did. They swam and climbed as well as any of the men children of their race.

As young women they could do all that womankind could do and more. They could hunt as well as they could spin. They could helm a ship, wake the harp and read the stars. They could face all danger and laugh at all pain.

Fortune favored their house, and few were the unhappy times of this family. However, at the fading of the day, around the glowing red embers of the need fire they listened to the tales of the skalds and sadness would consume their hearts. for in their minds they saw, that as women, no matter what they might do, escape the shadow of Hel, for her dark mists were reserved for those who do not know the glorious end of battle. No escape for them from Hela, nor place for them among their kind at the meadhall of Valhalla among the glory crowned sword strong heros of the all father.

That shadow that first fell in their youth, gathered in darkness through the days of young womanhood and weighed heavy upon them always in the days of full womanhood.

But brave they were in the face of danger and did laugh at pain they did bear even though within their hearts the dread reserve of a long lost hope of brave and songful days haunted them.

One became the mother of brave warriors, a homekeeper and mother of great men. The other did not marry but ever cast her healing upon the ignorance and sickness of the land.

Boldly they faced life fearless and ever with a tender smile until they lived to a very old age, tending again the children and grand children and great grandchildren of their house. Forver locked were the gates of Valhalla.

Or so it seemed.

As the sisters looked their last upon the sun of this world and cold winter wind that chills the face, Thor and Odin took compassion upon them and sent down forth valkyrie, upon white flying horses, gentle manes dancing in the breeze, to gather the women and carry them far from the foglands of Hel and brought them to Odin's bosom in Valhalla, safe within the alfathers warm embrace and golden throne, where the norns could not consign them the fate upon which they had engraved their names so long ago.

And from that very hour decreed the mighty Odin that the gates of Valhalla be thrown wide open to welcome all those of faithful endeavor be they man or woman.