Your father, the King, has always kept you secret. Your appearance alone always brought questions. You were stunning, almost inhumanly beautiful. Your eyes are two different colors. And you could speak to animals and plants. You had 3 raven friends, Wolfram, Broin, and Eir.

He took the chance to find you a husband. But the noble man had thought you were the work of the devil. And news broke to the village.

The villagers had broken into the castle one night. Awoken from your sleep, each arm and leg was grabbed.

Screaming and begging they carried you out. Ahead of you you could see a pole with hay below it. Your heart sank to your stomach as panic filled you.

But no matter how much you struggled you couldn't get loose, they began to tie you to the pole tightly, not caring that the ropes made it hard to breath.

"The flames will make it harder to breath" one mocked as he tightened the ropes more. You were trembling, not knowing what you had done wrong.

You look to the skies a silent prayer, as the priest begins to pray over your damned soul. The wind was harsh, your hair and dress flying through the ties. Your Raven companions few off into the distance, you thought they could not bare to see.

Your heart raced more as one of the men began towards you with a flame. As he was about to toss the torch on your pile, he fell back. An axe between his eyes.

Tears were streaming down your face as you stared in shock. Everything was moving in slow motion as the villagers began to run and scream, vikings running from behind you into the village, slaughtering them.

As Ragnar Lothbrok charged in with the other vikings, the wind blowing had moved some of the sparks to the hay at your feet. Quickly spreading.