COF 32

 The fierce battle had made it’s mark not just on people, but on the landscape around them. The emerald sea of grass had wilted, huge swaths burnt to a brown crisps from out of control bonfires. Trees were uprooted and knocked over, snapped like kindling by the arms of dragons. Corpses both human and inhuman lay scattered on the field, bodies twisted and bent in awkward angles. Blood was everywhere, from mere droplets, to small pools of it, the monsters gaining nourishment by drinking from the red fountains.

The beauty that surrounded Valhalla was marred, but not completely gone. The buildings still gleamed, solid walls of gold, and shining white coral, though the outer walls were darkened by the gray soot of magic and fire. The army of Asgard valiantly stood between the monsters and their home, bravely battling against fiends that outnumbered them three to one.

The odds could have been worse. When they had started, they had been outnumbered nearly seven to one, and only the quick thinking of the battle maiden Hrist, the superb training she had put her warriors through kept them from being slaughtered mercilessly. Even with the army of Nifleheim cut down to nearly half it’s numbers, losses were heavy on both sides, the brave warrior souls of Asgard going to their final rest as they fell before demon’s claws.

The Dark Valkyrie Hrist, her face grim as she fought, sliced her sword through flesh and bone, felling foe both left and right of her. But even she was forced to back up, slowly but surely as the monstrous army pressed towards the main entrance of Valhalla. She stabbed forward, shattering the rib cage of a skeleton, surely her sword would have found it’s mark had the fiend possessed a heart. With an angry growl, she turned, braid flying behind her as she sliced and diced her way through zombies, intent on rejoining the main force of her army.

Archers had joined the mages up on the rooftops, raining down a hail of arrows, some striking true, but most slamming harmlessly into the ground before the feet of the demons. But it gave the monsters pause, left them milling about uncertainly, giving the einherjar a brief respite from battling. They were quick to take it, resting their weary limbs, checking over the condition of their weapons, making sure their blades were sound. The disadvantage of the rainstorm of arrows was they couldn’t get near the Nifleheim army, not without getting hit in the process.

“We make our last stand here!” called out Hrist, twirling her sword before her. The blade was dull with blood and gore, it’s once silver sheen lost to the muck that coated it. Answering cries came from the einherjar, acknowledging her words. It was small comfort to them to have the walls of Valhalla guard their back, at least then they knew no fiends could sneak up on them. But it also limited their movements, kept them on top of friends as they battled. A tight situation where they were forced to be careful in how they maneuvered their weapons.

“Hrist! A moment!” Forseti, a lesser God, was approaching her. She turned to acknowledge him, trusting the archers to keep the monsters at bay for now. Her dark eyes traveled up and down his form, looking him over. He was a tall man, a full head higher than she, with brown hair, and dark green eyes that blazed, a piercing gaze that saw to the heart of matters. It was those eyes that got him to see past lies, the God of Truth not tolerating falsities in his followers.

“What is it Forseti?” Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Vidar, the God hurrying towards them, eager to be part of this war council.

“We will surely fall if we do not get those reinforcements…” Forseti spoke plainly and without hurry. “Would it not be better to retreat into the sacred halls?!”

“You would have us run from battle?!” demanded Hrist sharply, and a lesser man would have cowered from the anger in her voice.

“Is it not better to flee and live to fight another day, than to die needlessly?” He asked wisely.

“There is no dishonor in a tactical retreat.” Vidar was adding his two cents in. “We could barricade the doors, hold the main building.”

“We would be under siege!” snapped Hrist.

“We are already under siege!” pointed out Forseti. “Why not battle it out from the comforts of our home…Our warriors could use a rest…” Hrist let her eyes travel over the einherjar, seeing the exhaustion they tried to ignore, the signs of fatigue clearly on their face. “Ambrosia would do much to cure them…” Forseti said, a loud whisper in her ear. “We would have access to it inside Valhalla…”

She was considering his words, knowing they had already diplenished the field ration of ambrosia that each einherjar carried with them into battle. Her eyes glanced upwards, the Dark Valkyrie seeing the rain of arrows beginning to thin out as the archers rapidly depleted their stock of arrows. “All right…” A curse was on her lips, and Hrist scowled as she spoke. “Give the signal to fall back…I’ll guard the front, keep as many of the beasts back as I can.”

“Hrist no!” protested the two male Aesir.

“We can’t risk losing you.” added Vidar. “You would do well to retreat and let the einherjar worry about holding the front lines.”

“No.” She shook her head, determination in her eyes. “I will not abandon my troops.”

“But…”

“But nothing!” Her eyes blazed with anger. “We will make it to Valhalla together, nothing else is satisfactory…”

“I could insist…” Vidar said, and power blazed off of him.

She smiled, though it lacked any joy. “Would you fight me at such a crucial time Lord Vidar?”

“I don’t have to fight you.” The God of Revenge said. “I merely have to get close enough to knock you out…”

“Hmm…” She laughed. “You’ll have a fine time of accomplishing that task!” Moving lightning fast, she brought up her sword before his throat, the tip pressing into his flesh. “Do not fight me on this Vidar…you won’t like the outcome…”

He snarled, and stepped back, eyes tracking the movement of her sword. “Fine then…Tis a fool’s errand, but I will allow you to do it.” Hrist let out a short bark of laughter, amused by his choice of words. “I thank you old friend.” She paused, clearly loathe to turn her back on the God. Vidar ruefully shook his head, and moved away from her. He raised his arm up high, fingers splayed and shot out energy into the sky. Quick bursts of light, that pulsated for different lengths of time, a code that the einherjar could read and understand.

A murmur was brought up throughout the army of Asgard, surprised confusion at the message. It didn’t last, time was precious in battle, and even a second wasted could mean the difference between life and death. Slowly the army began sliding along the walls, heading for the marble steps that led up to the entrance. The arrows continued to rain down, but there was gaps now, as archer after archer ran out, and the monsters began pressing forward once more.

Letting out a wild battle cry, Hrist was there, stepping before the largest of the demons, a muscle bound imp. Her sword cleaved the imp’s pitchfork in two, rendering it weaponless. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the beserker Arngrim, the man intent on guarding her side. “No mercy!” He bellowed, and she nodded in approval. His heavy blade twirled around, knocking over skeletons, as he readied himself for his ultimate attack.

“Finishing Strike!” He was running forward, blade held low like a javelin. “Final Blast!” His other hand let forth tiny grenades, explosions of fire all around him as he thrust his sword through the mid section of a wraith. Zombies screamed, twirling about madly, their rotten flesh easily susceptible to the grenade’s flames.

On the other side of Hrist was a blonde spear wielder, a man with delicate feminine features who had somehow managed to keep most of his white armor pristine in the midst of all the blood and gore. He flung out his spear, a vicious looking thing that had a double headed axe on one end. “Finishing Strike!” Wind whipped his yellow hair about, the air around him turning into a whirling green vortex. “Justice Stream!” The monsters were picked up, howling screams letting fly from their maws, as they flew up into the air, only to come crashing down to the ground where Lawfer waited. He quickly brought down his spear, embedding the axe into their chests, wrenching that cavity open before twirling, moving on to the next foe.

Mages having given up casting the illusions spells constantly worked on reinforcing status magic. Constant cries of Reflect Sorcery could be heard, the air around the einherjar shimmering as the shields were set in place. Spells bounced off of them, hitting the Magus Wraiths, causing them to die at their own hands. A young girl, petite in size due to the age in which she had perished, stood on one of the highest ramparts. Her blonde curls bounced, rustled by the wind beating around her as she concentrated. “Hark! Lightning that rides within the ashen depths…” chanted Jelanda, sweat dripping down her face. “Descend down as a storm upon my foes! Gravity Blessing!” She let out a scream as her staff broke, the strain of constant use proving too much for the gnarled wood.

Falling to her knees, Jelanda watched as a dark orb descended on the center of the Nifleheim army, crushing them and sapping the strength of those standing nearby. “There…” She smiled in weak relief. “Did you witness my power?” Her eyes were falling close, the princess collapsing into a much needed sleep.

Battles were being waged on the very steps leading up to the doors of Valhalla, people being knocked off those high stairs with wild screams as they plunged to the ground. If they survived the fall, the monsters were waiting, a sea of evil that swept over them, ready to rend them limb from limb. Hrist and her entourage were at the very bottom of the stairs, desperately fighting, trying to keep the monsters from getting past. But there was too many, and they slipped in through cracks in the battle formation, chasing after the fleeing warriors.

The heavy iron doors of Valhalla groaned, as the einherjar struggled to pull them open, others fighting to keep the enemy off their backs. Little by little the doors succeeded in opening, just a crack, wide enough for bodies to slip through. They didn’t dare risk opening it any wider, knowing it would take too long to close, knowing they needed to keep as little of the enemy ranks from infiltrating the sacred hall.

Up the stairs Hrist and her warriors battled, moving backwards, perched precariously on the steps. Swords thrusting downwards, aiming at heads, even as they tried to defend their mid sections from the upward stabs of their foes. Blood decorated the Valkyrie’s armor, spots of it on her face, a memento of all she had killed. Even though so many had fallen to her sword, they still came, intent on bringing her down. She fought on, twisting and spinning, ducking under blades, spears just missing her head.

Suddenly an arrow sped by her defenses, moving too fast for her to grab. It slammed into her chest, slipping between her rib cage, stabbing her. Hrist choked, free hand going to the arrow, gripping the wood, trying to pull it out. “Lady Hrist!” Lawfer was calling, screaming out “Justice Stream!”, sweeping the foes away from the injured Valkryie.

“I…I’m okay…” She managed to say, wrenching the arrow out of her chest. Her divine blood coated the silver head, and shock was on her face. Her hand clenched around the shaft, wood splintering under her fist, as an intense rage came over her. “How dare they!” She screamed, and she was suddenly somersaulting forward, a blazing fury of white hot anger, that attacked anything moving. She lost herself to the rage, Hrist letting all other needs slip by her, even the pain of her wound, just hacking away.

“Lady Hrist, we must retreat!’ Lawfer shouted from behind her, trying to keep an eye on the Dark Valkyrie as he fought with his own foes.

“She’s lost to the beserker’s rage…” said Arngrim, knowing the signs all too well.

“Then what will we do?!” demanded Lawfer, slamming his spear into the center of a skeleton’s skull.

“Keep an eye on her…pray it wears off before she turns on friends!” answered the heavy blade warror.

The einherjar were almost all inside Valhalla, only a few dozen remained on the field, fighting to keep the army of Nifelheim from reaching the open doors. “We cannot hold them back any longer!” shouted Forseti. “We have to close the doors, and fast!”

“No!” protested Vidar. “Lady Hrist is still out there! We cannot abandon her!”

Forseti opened his mouth to protest, but a blazing bright light caught his eyes. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, shimmering in intensity, lavenders and blues washing out over the field. Both armies paused, only Hrist kept moving, intent on killing anyone that fell within her reach. Unbeknownst to her, everyone was turning their eyes up to the sky, awe on their face as they watched the light. It sped forward like a comet, torpedoing towards the main building of Valhalla, and the heat of it caused them to simmer in their armor, turn their heads away from the bright intensity of it up close.

It circled the stairs, and as it touched the einherjar, they felt their strength renewed, felt hope reborn in their hearts. A stray beam of light reached out to caress Hrist, and she felt the beserker rage leave her body, and she gave one last thrust of her sword, even she turned to watch the light. “Lenneth?” She whispered, having recognized the energy that had touched her.

The light touched down on the center of the staircase, and it began pulsating, a rainbow of colors that ebbed and flow, forming shadows within it’s center. The light arced, curving inwards, taking on the shape of wings…pure white angel wings attached to the back of one woman, her platinum hair shining iridescently from the sparkles brought up in her midst. The wings curled together, and from behind them, several people could be made out. Two of them were clearly Gods, their power screamed out of them, making the monsters hesitate, unsure of what to do.

“Lady Lenneth!” whispered Forseti, awed to see her. She didn’t turn to acknowledge him, concentrating on the battle before her. Her wings melted into her body, and at a nod from her, the four who accompanied her spread out, joining the battlefield. Spells rang out, ether was thrown, and a sword was added to the fray. EInherjar turned around, no longer intent on fleeing, rushing forward to engage in battle once more.

“Shadow Servant!” Lezard laughed, calling up several demons to do his bidding, sending them scurrying towards the wraiths. He didn’t pause to watch the trio do battle, already he was turning, shouting out another spell, causing explosions to happen in the midst of the Nifleheim army. Freya flew past him, Gungnir clenched in her right fist, left hand held up as she shot out ether blasts, disintegrating zombies.

Screaming, Lucian ran down the staircase, sword stabbing forward to meet the blade of a skeletal soldier. He thrust and he parried, swiping down low to slash the knee bones apart. Other warriors barreled down the staircase, surrounding him, fighting other creatures, eager and ready to do damage. Mystina was standing further up on the stair case, unicorn horn held before her. It glinted with power as she called out a spell, the starlight of Celestial Star smashing into half a dozen foes.

Bit by bit the Nifleheim army was pushed back, and more einherjar swarmed out of the sacred hall, feeling renewed as though they had dined on ambrosia. It was a parade of weapons, screams and challenges being issued out, a deafening roar of metal clashing against metal. And through it all, one woman moved, aura lit up brilliantly all around her. Lenneth serenely walked down the stairs, raising her arm, causing monsters to go flying with just a wiggle of her fingers. She swept them out of her way as though she was swatting away mere flies, totally unconcerned with the danger they presented. She made slow but steady progress, and when she at last reached the bottom she held up her hands for silence. The roar of the battle fell quiet, all eyes turning towards the Goddess once more.

“Creature of Nifleheim!” Her pure sweet voice rang out, commanding their attention. “Your Queen is lost! Give up this foolishness before it is to late!” Hesitation shown on their faces, doubt at her words. Was Hel really gone? How could they believe the words of the enemy? The last remaining dragon stomped forward, intent on blowing away the Goddess with it’s breath. Lenneth merely stared at it, calmness radiating off of her, as her hair blew around her.

Upon reaching her, the dragon bellowed, opening it’s mouth to display rows of saliva drenched teeth. Lenneth gazed into it’s maw, not a hint of nervousness to her. “If you persist, you invite total annihilation…” Her blue eyes jerked away from the dragon, going to sweep past all the monsters. “Every last one of you will be killed. Do you want that?!”

In answer the dragon lunged forward, snapping it’s jaw at her. Lenneth reached up, and grabbed it by the mouth, holding it open. “Fool…” She whispered sadly, and her hands began glowing. The light spread from her, to the dragon’s scales, and a growl emerged from it’s throat. That angry challenge soon turned to one of pain, and it tried to twist away from her hands. Slowly the skin peeled back, revealing muscles and tendons, a dark dust cloud circling over it’s unprotected body, eating away at it’s flesh until the dragon fell from her hands, twitching as it disintegrated into nothing.

“Who’s next…?” Lenneth asked, lips twitching as she fought back a smile. “Or will you leave while you still can? You there!” She pointed at one of the wraith generals, beckoning him closer. “You know what I am, do you not?”

“Creator…” hissed the wraith, making sure to stay far away from her hands.

“Then you know what I am capable of.” Lenneth said. “Will you continue to sacrifice your dark brethren in this meaningless battle? Or will you leave…” A smirk was on her face. “Nifleheim is in need of a ruler now…surely your forces would be better spent on concentrating on choosing a new leader.” She knew the battle for control of Nifleheim would be bloody, a war as intense as the one fought in Valhalla, as monsters tried to seize control of the underworld.

“We will…leave…” The wraith said at last, and protesting roars raised up from the army behind him. The creature turned, gazing on the nay sayers with a malevolent gaze, and it quelled their voices.

“I’m sure you won’t object to having a battalion of einherjar escort you back.” It was a statement, not a question the Goddess voiced. “To make sure…you don’t get lost on your way home.”

“Fine..” agreed the wraith grudgingly. It turned to whisper to it’s advisors, and a murmur was heard, quickly spreading throughout the ranks of monsters, letting them know the battle was over. They were going home. A cheer erupted from the einherjar as the enemy turned around, several of the warrior spirits rushing forward to playfully poke their weapons at the monster’s backsides. Other soldiers collapsed in relief, laughter breaking out as friend turned to friend, some hugging each other, some even crying.

Lenneth was aware of Freya directing einherjar to go after the retreating army of Nifleheim. Forming a small battalion, an honor guard to make sure the wretched creatures really did leave the realm of Asgard. She heard the clank of metal boots stomping down the stairs, saw the reverent looks the einherjar gave her as they passed by her. She could see wounded on the field, both her people and the monsters of Nifleheim, and she wanted to send someone to tend to them before it was too late.

“Lenneth.” The voice drew her attention to the speaker, seeing her older sister slowly approaching her. Hrist did not smile, not exactly, her mouth neutral though her eyes shone with warmth and relief in them. “It is good to see you again.” She sheathed her sword, hand resting on the hilt. “I am…glad to see you are doing all right.” She added gruffly, not used to showing concern for Lenneth.

“I am. I feel the same for you.” said Lenneth, eyes trailing over Hrist in concern. She could see the splatters of blood on her, and saw how a wound still bled out, Hrist holding her left hand over the hole. She walked down the stairs, coming close to Hrist. “Where are our healers?” She asked, touching Hrist’s bloodied hand.

The Dark Valkyrie did not flinch back from her touch, answering quickly. “Most are with Eir.” She sighed. “On Midgard…in the vampire’s land.”

“I see…” Lenneth’s lips pursed into a frown, and she was pressing her hand down on Hrist’s wound, concentrating. A white glow emitted from her hand, energy pouring into Hrist’s body. The black haired woman opened her mouth to protest, as light washed over her, bathing her in it’s warmth, cleaning her armor and healing her injury.

“There are others far more injured than I.” Hrist said at last. “You would have done well to see to them first.”

“You are welcome.” Lenneth said, stifling a grin, knowing that was the closest her sister would come to thanking her. Hrist sighed, and nodded in acknowledgment. “We have much to do…”

“Yes…” agreed Hrist. “We must take back the rest of our army…But…I admit to being curious. What of Odin? Is it true Hel is no more? And how did you come to regain your Godhood?”

“It’s a long story…there will be time for it later…But for now I think we should concentrate on…” A voice was calling out her name, and Hrist watched as Lenneth’s eyes lit up, a quick look of pleasure on her face before it was gone. The Dark Valkyrie looked over her shoulder, seeing the approaching man, a God, and she snarled in recognition.

“You!?!”

“…” Lezard tore his eyes away from Lenneth, to look at Hrist, purple eyes widening in surprise. Hrist was moving, a black blur that interspersed between Lenneth and the necromancer. He didn’t get a chance to say anything, her fist was already coming up, slamming into his cheek. Hand encased in metal gauntlets, combined with the strength of a Goddess was enough to stun the newly made God, cause him to see stars.

“Hrist!” Lenneth cried out, as Lezard fell to his knees, holding a hand to his face.

“Get up.” Hrist informed him, coldly staring down at the man, hands on her hips. She continued to stand in front of Lenneth, intent on protecting her from the necromancer.

“Hrist, what are you doing?” demanded Lenneth angrily.

Hrist did not turn around, completely fixated on Lezard. “I swore I would not allow this pathetic wretch the luxury of getting away with what he did to you.” She smiled, and it was blood thirsty. “And now is my chance to keep that promise.”

Lezard lowered his hand, eyes cautious and on the dark haired Valkyrie. “I did not take you for the protective older sister role…especially after what you did the first time we met…” He was slow to rise to his feet, wary of her clenched fists.

“I was operating under Odin’s orders…not that I need to explain myself to a soul as twisted as yours.” She went to punch him again, and Lezard backpedaled on the stairs, just narrowly avoiding getting hit.

“Hrist stop this at once!” snapped Lenneth, hands on her sister’s shoulders. She tugged at her body, forcing the Valkryie to turn and face her. “He is an ally!”

“An ally?” Hrist snorted, amused. “How can that be? He is your kidnapper!”

“Er yes…that is true but…we’ve come to an understanding…” Hrist was surprised to see a blush on Lenneth’s cheeks.

“What sort of understanding?” asked Hrist, suspicious.

“Um…well…” Lenneth let go of her sister, to nervously play with her fingers. “It’s complicated but know this, he helped with defeating Odin and Hel. He’s also the reason why I have my divinity restored.”

“Really…?” Hrist turned to glance over her shoulder at Lezard. He smiled at her, trying to appear charming. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned back to Lenneth. “And I suppose there is a good reason why he has been made a God too?”

“That just sort of happened…” Lenneth sighed. “I wasn’t kidding when I said there was a long story to be told.”

“Hmph.” Hrist crossed her arms over her chest. “I find myself growing more and more eager to hear about your adventures. I’m sure they will be most illuminating on all matters.” She gave her sister a doubtful look. “But for now…I will leave it alone.”

“Thank you.” Lenneth whispered, giving her a relieved look.

“Come…” Hrist all but ordered her. “We have much to do…” She turned, and started up the stairs, snorting in amusement as Lezard quickly got out of her way. “I don’t suppose he knows any healing spells?”

“No…”

Hrist looked at Lezard with an expression that said she thought him useless. “I’m sure we can find some sort of use for him…” With that she continued on up the stairs, walking past wounded soldiers, heading for Vidar and Forseti.

“She doesn’t like me very much.” commented Lezard, watching Hrist’s progress.

“Don’t worry…” Lenneth took hold of his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You’ll grow on her.”

“I hope so…” Lezard shook his head. “I’d hate to be at permanent odds with your family!”

“She’s just overprotective of me since Silmeria was lost.” confided Lenneth. “It’s been very hard on her…”

“I suppose…” agreed Lezard.

“I should see to the einherjar…they could use my help…” Lenneth said, letting go of his hand.

“What about me, what do I do?” asked Lezard. He was surprised to find he wanted to help.

“For now…just see about tending to the wounded…help them bandage their injuries, that sort of thing.” suggested Lenneth. “You don’t need any magic for that.”

“Right.” nodded Lezard, and off they went. He stuck close to Lenneth, watching as she worked her way towards those who suffered the most, placing her hands on their bodies. The former battlefield shown with white light, as she exerted herself, using her power to heal their wounds, mend the tear inside their bodies. Lezard knelt over wounded soldiers, conjuring strips of cloth to his hands, using them to staunch the flow of bleeding. The soldiers he worked on were grateful for his attention, thanking him, and looking at him with something akin to awe, astonished to have a God tending to their wounds.

Elsewhere Freya had left Gungnir in Lucian’s possession, the Goddess using her minor healing powers on the wounded. She couldn’t heal as well as Eir, but she was able to help out and lessen the burden Lenneth was facing. Mystina was also on the scene, using her magic to heal the einherjar. Soon other mages joined her, having been refreshed by ambrosia, their healing spells quickly taking care of the remaining men and women.

Other einherjar walked about disbursing ambrosia, having gone and raided the dining hall of Valhalla for it’s stock. The ambrosia did much to ease spirits, and those who were down soon cheered up, heartened to be tended by these angels of mercy.