Today was a very special day. A very strange day. Today, Papa didn’t go to work, and I didn’t have to go to school. Nikolai still wished to study, even though he didn’t have homework. But I was not so silly, for this was a day to be devoted to Thor.

This morning, as I was enjoying a rare late breakfast with my family, the news broke out, and made its way down my neighborhood. War was declared. This message came in the form of Demyan, banging on our backdoor, decked out in his winter clothes, his blade at his side. “Good morning, Demyan. How are you today?” Mama asked, as he tried to peer past her.

“Good morning, Auntie, is Hildr home?” he asked, frantically.

“She’s right at the table. Did you have breakfast yet? Are you hungry?” Mama asked, moving aside to let him in.

He rushed in the second there was enough space to get through. He darted for me, and looked me up and down frantically. “Why aren’t you ready?” he demanded, confused.

I looked at him with equal confusion. Was I supposed to read his thoughts? Did I miss a messenger pigeon? And why didn’t he have Uncle call Mama? Did cellphones stop working? All these questions prepped in my arsenal, I decided to start with the most important one.

“What in Frigg’s name are you talking about?”

“I suppose that answers your question, Demyan.” Nikolai said, not looking up from his text book. Normally reading wasn’t allowed at the table, but this was ‘outstanding circumstance’!

“Not mine!” I said, with growing aggravation.“ My question is the one that matters!”

“Don’t yell at the table.” Mama said calmly, sitting back at her seat at the table.

“Speak, General!” I barked. I would normally respect Mama’s rules. But now was not the time for rules. I assumed. If not I would be very much screwed.

“My King,” He said, speaking frantically. “The other lords of the children are gathering in town square!”

“You don’t mean!” I gasp dramatically.

“Yes, your majesty.” He nodded grimly. “War was declared.”

I leaped from my chair. “Then we must gather our forces immediately! Come!” I shouted, moving toward my room. “Assist me with my armor!” we were stopped by my mother clearing her throat. I slowly turned to her, she was silently cut at her breakfast. I stood, watching her with bated breath.

“I seem to remember someone promising to assist their father in going down to the hall to prepare the feast for tonight.” She said calmly.

I frantically turned to my father, begging with my eyes. Trying to speak with him telepathically. He turned and looked me dead in the eyes. He smiled, holding out his fist to me, speaking proudly. “To glory.”

I grinned, and zealously bumped his fist with my own, repeating the phrase proudly. “To glory.”

He held up a finger as I turned to leave. “But remember, my little soldier. Today, you fight for Thor.”

I smiled, chin up proudly. “Every day, Papa. But especially today.”

I marched down Main Street, my men in tow, swords at our sides. I had my hood over my head, and I left off the bandage covering my stitches, to give me a fearsome and foreboding appearance. This was countered, or maybe assisted, by the huge grin on my face. Close at hand was Demyan, ever watchful of our surroundings, with Dimitri and Artyom covering our rears.

As we made it to the town center, where a statue of Karl Marx sat ever watchful, we met five groups similar to ours. My group stayed behind as I walked forward, with five boys all older than me. They were, as I was, the toughest, smartest, and strongest of their groups. They were my rivals. And today they would lose.

“Who declared war?” I asked with a wry half smile, leaning forward with both of my hands and my chin on the sturdy handle of my blade.

“Volya the Mighty.” said the boy to my immediate left, a tall scrawny ten-and-a-quarter-year-old with strange, fascinating grey hair and orange flakes in his eyes. He was Kacper the Somber.

“What is your challenge, Volya?” asked the boy across from me. He had dark black hair, and shiny brown eyes that matched his smile. He just turned ten last month. He was Nadim the Smug.

“Snowball fight.” The mountain of a boy next to Nadim grunted. He was the tallest and the oldest and the meanest and always smelled bad. He was also dumb.

“And how do we win?” a blonde boy just a head shorter than Nadim asked. He looked very unimpressed and was no doubt thinking on how to salvage a decent game from Volya’s stupidity. I trusted him to do so, he was Jaakko the Wise.

“Win?” Volya asked, before smiling stupidly. “Be the strongest.” He proclaimed proudly, as if he just said something clever. We all groaned at his stupidity. He bristled in response.

“Yeah, okay.” said the last boy. His father was a painter, like mother, and so he used his blues to dye his hair. He was crazy and wasteful. But his blue eyes spoke ages of his hidden cleverness. He was Faas the Skald, and his voice was silk. “Does anyone else have an actual idea?” he addressed the rest of us, while smiling mockingly at Volya.

“It’s my-” Volya started, stepping forward with a fist, only to be cut off by Jaakko.

“Capture.” he spoke softly and simply. “The rules are: make the other players submit. When they submit, they’re part of your army. Last army standing wins.”

“That’s what I mea-” Volya was interrupted again. Because we didn’t have time for his stupidity.

“How much time to prepare?” I ask. Giving us the mercy of not having to hear Volya speak for any long amount of time.

“Thirty minutes?” Kacper asked us. “That should be enough time to strategize and prepare a fort, as well as arm ourselves, yes?”

“Strategize means to make a plan.” I say slowly and condescendingly, grinning as Faas and Nadim giggled. Volya’s face turned red. “Do you know what plan means?”

“You wanna fight?!” He barked, stepping towards me.

“Any time, little girl.” I responded venomously, spinning my blade to be ready for his attack. I steadied my blade and prepared to lunge forward, to his throat. His very vulnerable, stupid throat. Kacper and Jaakko jumped in between us before it could escalate properly.

“Thirty minutes.” Jaakko said, turning to both of us. They stopped us often. “We are agreed, yes?”

“That’s fine.” Volya said, glaring at me.

“I won’t need it.” I say, matching his stare. An agreement was made and nothing else needed to be said. We all nodded. We turned sharply. We walked away. For a moment Thor was set aside. Now was the time for Wodin. It was time to plan.