It's a work in progress and I'm using it mainly to get back into the swing of writing so I can finally finish Daughters of Darkness with the same level of skill and love I had for it before.
Lady Freya still remembered.
She remembered the rustling of red leaves on trees swaying in the wind that blew down the valley, carrying with it the smell of the crops growing beyond the white walls of her fortress. She could see those walls now, rising as spectacular monuments of stone, the battlements hewn from the very cliffs themselves. She remembered the cold rain, the flash of azure lightning from a storm unnatural for that time of year. She could feel, smell the fear in the air. Across the rolling hills came battle cries, bellows of unnatural fury and blood curdling roars of monsters beyond mortal comprehension. Bodies slammed into her own, knocking this way and that as they surged for the gates of the fortress. She remembered tossing aside a royal gown, donning armour and her arms became heavy with sword and shield. Royalty? She remembered the terror of her people. Her people? A powerful steed galloped her from the gates, between the rows of red leafed trees, through the thunder storm, rain hammering her emerald plate. Men rode beside her in the same beautifully crafted plate. She saw a banner depicting the snarling visage of an ocean drake, it snapped in the wind despite the rain water soaking the fabric. It's bearer, her son? Her memory was fragmented, blurred at times. She did not know the whole story, some images were firm and clear, others lost like whispers in the wind. She fought hard to hold onto them all but failed. She remembered the dirt, the blood. She could feel the weight of armour on her shoulders, an axe scraping across her breast plate. There was a stench of old blood, rotten flesh, unwashed bodies. She saw discoloured teeth, an absurd smile. Her sword cleaved a skull in two. Her shield smashed another figure from its feet. She remembered the booming of thunder, felt it reverberate in her ribcage. Her helm was gone. Her hair whipped about her face, men tumbled to the sodden ground, some died screaming, others died laughing. She looked back to those battlements and the fortress that had been her home. She could see smoke rising in thick columns. She had failed. A voice called to her, she remembered the pain in his words and the heart ache they brought. She tasted the salt of tears.
"They are behind the walls! We have been deceived!"
She cried out in rage, her sword took heads, limbs. Blood rained upon her armour. A body crashed to the dirt, her standard fluttering down beside him, smeared by blood and dirt. Her son. My son? No… no. She saw his limp fingers, his staring eyes, slack jaw. His blood pooled. No. She wept. An axe bit deep in her shoulder. Her shield slipped from her grip but her fingers were tight on her sword. She cut the warrior down a snarl on her lips.
"Sigmar!" She cried. "If you are there, if you can hear me!" She killed and killed and killed again. Her home was gone, her son dead. She bellowed to the heavens. "Lend me your strength!" She had nothing left but the need to reap bloody revenge.
She remembered the crack of lightning. A sensation of weightlessness. A terrible and beautiful pain. Her body was torn apart and rebuilt. There no was sense of time or space, there was only agony and purity. How long? Centuries perhaps. The final moments before the flash were gone completely. Had she died?
Lady Freya still remembered, though she did not remember fully. A son? A queen? Were these things real? When she rode the lightning again those memories returned. Forever a whirlwind of images and emotions she could never fully grasp. Were they her own? How could they not be? Why could she not see clearly? What had been taken from her to be replaced with what she was given? A son? A queen? Lady Freya remembered but only when she rode the lightning. She felt solid earth beneath her boots and the rush of displacing energies. Lightning snarled along her limbs, it flashed in her eyes and boiled away the tears that had been streaming unbidden down her cheeks. Once again Lady Freya forgot. She looked up and saw an enemy all too familiar and different all the same.
Lady Freya Angel of Dawn, Celestant of the Blades of Dawn hoisted her thunder-axe above her head, lightning crackling along its keen edge. Above her thunder boomed and rain lashed down.
"For Sigmar!" she bellowed, "Onward brothers and sisters, this day a new dawn rises!"