My Sister's a Ghost!

"I could die... Trying to see my sister's ghost?" Elliot asked dubiously.

The witch gave a small laugh, "Consolation prize? If you do die, then Odin is sorta obligated to let you stick around. Dying in a fight against someone in Valhalla is proof of being worthy, or whatever shit that asshole uses to judge the dead."

"Valhalla is real. So... The vikings got death right?"

"Nope." Lily shook her head, "I've met a ton of gods. Death gods and unholy gods and gods that'd make you shit yourself if you meet them. I still got no clue what would happen when I die. Magic doesn't help the world make sense. So uh... Just go with it. Oh! I completely forgot to warn you, before. Sorry, I was late for hockey and... That doesn't matter. Now that you know about magic, if you meet a witch, they'll know you do. So... Welcome to the party?"

"That sounds like it's going to suck." Elliot shook his head and then rubbed his eyes, "So... I guess I don't exactly have a deadline for this... But the longer Grace is there... The more pissed off she'd be, when I eventually turn up. If I waited a year, she might stab me, herself."

Lily smiled at him, "Finally. You're starting to see things her way."

"You think she'd be happier, here."

The witch shook her head, "Uh uh. I'm not making any choices for you. Got enough on my plate being the White Witch, thankyou very much! I make life and death choices for thousands, everyday. I'm not doing it for you and yours. You knew her. You decide."

"I don't wanna know what the White Witch is, do I?" Elliot asked.

She laughed and shook her head, "Probably not. You'll sleep better, not knowing."

"Right." He nodded, "Uhm... I'll text you... And uh... Thanks. For this. The milkshake. It's appreciated."

"I'm the White Witch. Part of the job." She shrugged, "Don't make Grace wait too long before you make up your mind."

Then, she was gone.

Leaving him alone with a dead rose.

---

Elliot spent most of the rest of the day, and night, fretting. Was Grace happier in a literal heaven of some kind? Was he willing to swap that, for a chance, just a chance, that they could be happy as a couple?

Spinning it, over and over, he was interested in her. Seeing her laugh, and chasing her after a prank, those moments were golden. Grace might know exactly how to piss him off, but even then... She was his perfect girl.

Problem with that, though, was it was all about him. She was in a literal heaven. He could absolutely picture her dancing on tabletops and smashing mugs of ale. Arm-wrestling some beast of a guy, whilst downing a drink and barely paying attention, because arm wrestling can be held with technique alone if someone is dumb enough to only care about strength.

Elliot could even see her baking a cake, and yelling at the crowd of drunken warriors to show some respect and not just scoff it all at once. To use their cutlery, and to thank her.

Right before they discovered the layer of cabbage hidden underneath the icing.

He had to admit to himself, as he continued to stress, that he still hadn't really come to terms with either her death, or her return. His head was not in the right place to try and deal with the kiss she'd given him, the promise of more, or the thought he needed to decide whether to risk his life, to ask her to stay by his side.

He never expected to fall asleep, but around six in the morning, his body gave up and his head dropped. He fell over sideways on the couch and was lost in the strange state between awake and asleep, where dreams can still steal you away.

---

"Time to blow out the candles!" Grace announced, slipping a leg across Elliot's lap. Sitting down and smiling at him before planting a long and loving kiss.

He looked at the spoon in his mouth, as she fed him the cake. Grace rolled her eyes, "No. It isn't poisoned. I gave up trying to kill you after I realised you'd still be my brother, even dead."

"I'd totally haunt you. Get you back for the haunted house stuff." Elliot replied.

Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled innocently, "What haunted house stuff?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He crossed his arms.

Grace twirled on the top of the table, reaching under her t-shirt to extract her bra. "Oh, just shut up and live a little, El. You never wanna just do anything fun! Life's for the living. Here. Have a little memory."

The water fell onto his head, soaking him and making him sputter. "Grace!"

She giggled and sat on his lap, leaning down and kissing his forehead lightly, "You love me. And you know it."

Elliot's head jerked upwards, dim eyes taking in the morning light spreading into the loungeroom. He snorted as he did, and then groaned, "I... Know it."

Then he collapsed forward again, and into a deeper sleep.

---

"Milkshake?" Elliot jerked awake, and instantly felt alone.

He shivered, feeling freezing for some reason, and then rolled into a sitting position on the couch. He dragged out his phone, and felt surprised to find it was already midday.

He'd missed work.

He also struggled to give a flying shit about it.

Elliot didn't think twice, he fired off a message to Lily. He didn't know if he had any answers for if being a ghost was better than spending your days in Valhalla. He didn't know if he shared Grace's lifelong secret. All the same, he knew it was his decision to try.

"You've got about three seconds." Lily snapped, making him blink and stare.

She was sitting on the edge of a broomstick, floating in the middle of the room. Her cheeks were slightly red, and she was looking incredibly frustrated.

"Eh... Okay." Elliot stepped over, "So, um..."

"Grab the fucking broomstick!"

He grabbed the fucking broomstick.

His stomach launched into his mouth as he suddenly found himself standing on a hillside of green, without a feeling of having moved anywhere. His mind twisted and complained, and Lily smiled tightly at him, "Sorry. You... Interrupted. Text me when you're done... But give me at least twenty minutes. Bye."

She disappeared, and he was left rubbing his eyes in bewilderment. Standing on some kind of rolling hill, with blue skies and birds in the air. The smell of salt on the wind.

Elliot turned around slowly, and then stared as he saw the building in the middle of the valley. The roof almost looked tiled, round and overlapping tiles, and that's where he realised his impression of the scale was off.

The thing looked enormous... But the tiny tiles making up the roof, were individual shields. At least half as tall as a person, and looking like regular old tiles because the building was at least as tall as a skyscraper. It was large enough that you could probably stick a football arena inside the walls, and barely even notice.

There was a tree towering over the building, with red and gold leaves. It really did tower, even above the monstrous sized hall. In the sunlight, the tree almost seemed to glow, like it was the spirit of autumn itself.

"Holy... Fuck."

"It is a sight to behold, the mighty Valhalla. Hall, of those warrior spirits who shall end the Vanargund." A rumbling voice spoke from beside him.

Elliot stepped backwards in surprise, and saw a beast of a man. He had a warhammer swung over one shoulder, with a comically small handle, and an insane block of iron at the end of it. He had red hair, and red beard, and gave Elliot the impression that he was about to bring the hammer down.

The figure smiled at him broadly, "So, spirit of the living, what brings you to this place? You do not yet belong here. You have not been chosen by my father."

"My sister's here... Somewhere." Elliot swallowed, "I came for her. To bring her... Back."

The man unslung his hammer, "Helgi left once, for his Sigrun. He returned to us, for that is the path of the pale horse upon the sky. Their tale became a tragic one, friend to the einherjar."

Elliot heard a crow cry nearby, and did his best not to feel like he was a toddler about to get crushed by a soldier. He had never actually won a fight in the real world. Which felt just as real as this one.

"I'm here for Grace." He repeated, firmly. Then, thinking, he quickly added, "She's the girl who kicked you in the... Eh... Nuts."

The man laughed, and waved a hand to the bottom of the valley, "Then let us drink! A true shieldmaiden, that one's spirit!"

---

It took until the third round of drinks, and Elliot feeling somewhere between tipsy and about to blackout, before he was able to get any of the warriors around him to stop forcing a drink into his hand and actually answer the question of where his sister was.

He'd figured she wouldn't be the only Grace, but all of them seemed to immediately know who he was talking about. The drinking hall went quiet, and they all looked pointedly in a certain direction.

Elliot stumbled off towards her, feeling the world was a little bit blurry and uncertain. It was certainly making him dizzy, but he guessed that was how magic places just felt.

In a corner, he spotted a woman. She wasn't drinking. In fact, now that he thought about it, she was the first woman he'd seen. Weird. She wasn't alone, though. There was a guy flexing proudly and making very animated gestures.

She idly twirled something in her hands, paying no attention to the warrior at all. The look on her face was one that Elliot hated. It looked like she'd given up, and given in. Just sadly accepting her lot in life.

"You know," He began, "The last woman I knew, who got unwanted attention from a spirit, she kicked him in the nuts. Might want to be careful there, mate."

The man turned to face him with a sour grimace.

Elliot blinked and blurted out, "You're blue!"

"He's a frost giant. And... You're drunk." His sister stated without looking over.

The frost giant reached for his axe, but Elliot shoved by him, "Grace. Earth to Grace. Valhalla to Grace? Gracey, Grace!"

"That's my name." She said glumly, "Say it again, and I'll demonstrate what I did to Thor."

"Wow. Total funk, huh? So what if I dared you to pull down Thor's pants?"

She turned her head slowly, breath catching as she did.

Elliot smiled broadly, spreading his arms, "Guess who."

"You utter asshole!" Grace exploded, "Just because I'm dead doesn't mean you had to go and join me! Fuuuck! I left, so you could live, El! Bloody hell. What did you do to even get here? Take on a werewolf!?"

"Uh... Lily gave me a ride?"

"The witch... Killed you." Grace snarled, clenching her fists.

Elliot blinked as he finally recognised what she was holding, "Oh hey. Your rose. It didn't die?"

"What you're buried with... Nevermind that! Why the hell did you die, El!?" Grace was on the verge of either punching him or crying. Probably both.

"I... Didn't? Lily dropped me." Elliot had to interrupt his explanation to hold a hand in front of his mouth and let rip a giant belch. "These guys are kinda fun. Made me have a couple rounds, before telling me where you were. Sorry."

She took a deep breath, "So... You're not dead?"

"Nup."

Grace nodded, "And... And you came here, for me?"

"Yup. Take you home, 'n all." He nodded, before stepping forward and trying to hug her.

Grace pushed him back, and then stared at her hand. A tear ran down one side of her face, and she looked up at him. "I... Don't belong there, anymore."

"You... Belong by my side." Elliot's drunken brain found the worst way to try and explain what he was feeling.

"Odin and his wife had an argument over me. Whether I was valkyrie or not." Grace shook her head, "There's no going back, for me."

"Thor said it was fine. I think. Sigrun? I think that was the name. People can leave, Grace." Elliot insisted.

She sighed, took him by the elbow and dragged him over to where the warrior with the hammer was leading a chorus of song, a dozen clay mugs shattered at his feet. Ale was draining down his beard as he cried out in a language that sounded like fighting to Elliot's ears.

The man stopped as he saw the two of them. He stepped up and clapped Elliot on the back, "You found the shieldmaiden, then! Her spirit does honour to this hall."

"El seems to think I can walk out because he's here." Grace said with irritation.

The warrior nodded, "That is so, but it is not the fullness of it. Were the two of you to depart this place, then a test of courage will be faced. One for each of you. To prove your love may conquer all. But, that is for another day! Come, let us drink to lovers reunited!"

"He's... My brother..." Grace flushed and looked at the ground.

The man laughed, "Shieldmaiden, your brother faced death to come to this place. He has proved his worth, once already. It is not easy for the living to dare to tread, here. He has come to claim your heart, and none here would have it any other way. You need only choose him, worthy."

She looked up at Elliot, and made a wry smile, "This'd be easier if you didn't get him drunk first, he stinks."

"Sorry." He belched again.

"Shall we celebrate a wedding, shieldmaiden? Or drown our feelings in mead?"

Grace went bright red, "Wedding!?"

"Of course! Is this not my hall? Do we not celebrate all things here?" He turned to Elliot, "And few living may make the claim that a god blessed their union."

"We've... Barely kissed..." Grace mumbled.

The warrior laughed loudly, "So it should be! What maiden would not find the romance at being plucked upon her wedding day? What man would not desire to make his claim, be her first? Come! Let us find you an outfit, more befitting of a bride!"

Grace looked back at Elliot, wide-eyed, as she was dragged away. For his part, he stared after her, trying to muddle through what the hell had just happened. A nearby warrior stood stiffly, rolling back his sleeves, "Your garb is unfit for a bride, who carries a fist so strong and so swift. Attend! Let us make this one at least appear to be a warrior!"

---

Elliot was feeling a little more sober, and a lot more uncomfortable, by the time the warriors were done with him.

The first thing they had done, was drag him outside to some hill, and tell him that there was a sword buried there. He was expected to dig into the grave, and retrieve it. Which is when Elliot realised that he was in the middle of some kind of viking bucks night.

They had stood around cheering, as he dug down into the dirt. Soaked in grime, knees caked in black dirt, and up to his elbows in the stuff. When he was nearly blind with exhaustion, and beginning to think this was a hazing, he found a wooden box, and struggled not to freak out that he was in a real grave.

Someone tossed a flat blade down to him, and Elliot had felt like he was violating something sacred as he pried it open.

The coffin was empty, apart from an English rapier.

When he picked it up, everyone went silent. He looked around at the stoic warriors, for some hint of what they were expecting. It didn't feel like he was supposed to thrust it into the air.

"From a boy, to a man." A deep voice rumbled, and an older figure by the edge of the grave leaned forward on a staff. "This is a gift. From your ancestor, to you. It marks you as a warrior. Worthy to speak. You will give it to your bride, and she, your sons. And they, their sons."

Elliot winced, feeling his throat closing. "My bride is dead. There will be no sons. Only a brief happiness, between the two of us."

"And he becomes a boy, again." The old man snickered, and the other warriors laughed along, loudly. He turned back towards Elliot, one empty eye socket distracting him. "Freya is invited to your wedding, boy. Your union is blessed by the gods. You do not argue with the gods. You accept their gifts, with open heart."

His eyes went wide, "What? Are you... Resurrecting Grace?"

"I am not." The man chuckled, "She will return to serve me, when your time is done, and you both will come to this place. Freya, ignorant child, is the goddess of fertility. It will be her gift to give."

He was confused as to how to feel about that. On the one hand, he was quickly becoming convinced that he really did love Grace. He wasn't just doing the ceremony as something to get her back. He truly believed that they belonged together, dead or alive.

On the other, he and Grace had barely kissed. They hadn't exactly had the pregnancy talk. He didn't know if he wanted kids, and he had no idea if she did. It also seemed a bit much to guarantee that kind of thing, for their first time. Seemed more like a few years on, after they settled in, sort of thing.

"You do not argue with the gods. You accept their gifts." The old man repeated, before suddenly disappearing in a frantic flapping and whirl of black feathers.

Elliot climbed out of the grave, sword in hand. The warriors were more subdued as they led him to a house nearby the enormous hall. There, the hazing continued.

He was stripped, and hand-bathed. The rest of them did, as well. Using a wooden bucket with tepid water, and rags, to scrub the skin until it was a bright red. Strangely though, the spirits used three different soaps, and all of them seemed to choose based on the smell.

After that, it was straight into the hottest sauna that Elliot had ever been in, in his life.

It was his job to toss more water on the hot stones.

---

Every muscle aching and tired, Elliot finally got a chance to dress for the wedding. Rough homespun pants, shirt and a coat. Apparently the colours were important, because the men helping him pointed out the plants used to make them, but Elliot hadn't a clue to the significance.

He asked for his phone at one point, and got laughed at. So he settled for asking if one of them could invite Lily to the wedding. The witch might be strange and creepy, but none of this would be possible without her. The laughter had quickly cut off at the mention of her name, replaced with polite respect.

They'd come a long way since he'd sworn at his sister for not telling him she'd been dying.

The rapier was fitted to a custom leather sheathe from somewhere, their last name stitched on one side, and some kind of tree in front of a sail, on the other. He was sure that meant something, too.

The last item of clothing felt more than a bit weird.

It was a silver circlet of some kind, fitted to his head. He hadn't a clue how they guessed that one without measuring. The circlet had a bunch of two-inch long, curved teeth embedded into it, as the points of the crown. He didn't need to ask if they were real.

All dressed, he was led back to the doors of the hall, before everyone stood back and waited for him.

Elliot took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air, hearing the birds in this strange paradise, and then he stepped forward. He planted one hand on each of the enormous doors, and pushed with all his might.

The doors resisted for a minute, threatening to embarrass him, before slowly swinging inwards. He found himself stepping through them, his arms in full flex, and onto a long purple-stained skin of some kind.

At the end of the obvious path, was a small fire, on top of which a goat was slowly roasting. Turning the spit in a deliberate fashion, was a woman in a gorgeous and pale white dress, a sash of pink tied around her waist and trailing down one leg.

Another silver crown sat on her head, but the teeth in hers seemed a lot smaller. In fact, he got the disturbing feeling that whilst his were probably wolf's, hers seemed to belong to a human.

She turned her head as she heard the doors, looking up at him with the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face. Eyes twinkling, and cheeks shining. In her outfit, she seemed like an otherworldly angel, come to tempt someone off the beaten track.

Elliot walked slowly and deliberately down the path, as the male warriors flooded in behind him. All of them taking up a position on the path, before drawing a weapon and shield, and beginning to clash them together. Hollering excitedly.