Bifrost: Chapter VI
VI - Rebirth
Vertan
The pearlescent gates of Tiere shone brightly in the daylight at the base of the mountains. The ancient structure of Vertan’s capital city stood amongst moss covered karsts, blending it into the mountain scape, stating very clearly how impenetrable it could be against enemies. The hillsides outside of the gates were coated in multicoloured flower fields, the air smelled permanently of spring and gentle rain.
Aztrit rode at the front of the gathered party between Kirk and Eric. Vertan was much more beautiful than she had pictured. She had visited once, centuries ago when the kingdom was destroyed from the war, and production on the gates had just begun.
Wealthy from the mineral and gem deposits seated deeply in the mountains, many came from afar to Tiere to discover riches for themselves, but the deposits were only accessible with specialised tools created by the elves that resided here. Never did the sitting kings give their technology to travellers.
On approach, a smaller portion of the bars at the bottom of the gate opened inward, seemingly by themselves. Aztrit slowed Fora as Kirk called for a halt. She looked over to him on his horse, his eyes focused on the gates.
This morning at the pond, they had both struggled to pull away. She had helped him dress, covering his body with the formed black tunic he was currently wearing, while he kept undressing her. She had chosen to dress more conservatively, as was customary in Vertan. This time she donned a black silk dress that covered her neck line and flowed gently at her feet, still her leg was open, and it paired with heeled riding boots that came up to her mid thigh. She had pulled her hair out of her face, but Kirk had repeatedly released it from its binds. Now, in its curled form, it flowed down her back and around her shoulders.
She knew King Derkot had already given his approval for Men to seek refuge within Vertan and this mission was purely to make their agreement formal and written, but something felt amiss. She had tried to shake the feeling on their ride over, but even through casual conversation with Eric, she was unsettled.
Kirk returned her gaze, and gave her a light smile. It had proven difficult to tear himself from her after they joined in the pond. Seeing her pull those dark suede boots over her brown thighs had made his efforts futile. He wanted only to press her up against the rough bark of the nearest tree, split her thighs, and hear her cry for him again.
He searched her thoughts, finding that she wasn’t mirroring the passion he was trying to communicate to her.
Before asking why, three elves in full ruby adorned chest plates, braces, and greaves, passed under the towering pearl gates. Kirk turned his attention to the tallest of the giants in the middle. His raven hair laid long about his slender shoulders. His face narrow, his features delicate, with unsettling sapphire eyes that rested not on Kirk, but on Aztrit, who scowled back at the elf.
Kirk dismounted and came forward, standing between her and the elf, noting how close he had come. Fora bucked and neighed behind him, as if trying to put distance between her rider and the onlooker.
“Lord Verdulke of Karth for King Derkot.” Kirk tried to pull his attention as he spoke, but the connection he seemed to share with Aztrit was powerful enough to make him feel as if he was interrupting. The elf with the blue eyes continued to keep his gaze on Aztrit, and now a smile plastered his cheekbones.
Aztrit looked at the elf with fury in her eyes.
She knew him, and well. He could never keep himself from being deceitful. The smile he had displayed when Kirk introduced himself was almost enough for her to ruin his ruse. The God masquerading as an elf spoke within her mind, ‘I smell you on him sister.’
She narrowed her eyes and dismounted Fora. She too, had known who he was. She came to stand next to Kirk and was joined by Eric. Kirk looked at her in confusion. She could feel anger rising from his body.
Unhappy Kirk introduced her, “This is a sorceress in my hire, and my second, Eric.”
Loki’s smile fell quickly. He looked to the Lord who stood at the same height as he did, and tilted his head slightly to the left. For a while, he stayed just like that, trying to place what he was finding odd about the human in front of him. “King Derkot has been waiting, Lord Verdulke. Today however, he finds himself preoccupied. So tonight shall be a night of feasting to welcome you,” The elf impishly bowed for emphasis. “And tomorrow, shall be one of planning and alliances. Thoroux and Gliker will show your second and your men to their… resting places. I will give you a glance at Vertan as I show you to yours.”
The two blond elves who stood at the leader's shoulders broke off and sheathed their weapons. Eric and the horses followed into the gates. “I am Frovik, General of King Derkot’s army. Follow me.” Frovik flashed a smile to a disapproving Aztrit, enjoying how upset she was.
As they followed Frovik into the gates and along the path of inlaid pearls, they took in the high rise buildings weaving themselves into the mountain sides blended with karsts, connected by bridges encrusted in jewels.
She noticed they planned their city defensively, topping the buildings with thick spikes of silver ore. The marbled buildings ranged from the deepest noir to the most reflective eggshell. Pearl and gold ran in waves through the streets, and a canal split the length of the city, leading to the cove past the palace where a waterfall fell to the sea.
The elves lined the streets, watching as the foreigners went by. Each one was tall and graceful looking. The women adorned high collared dresses and full sleeves entwined with assorted jewels. Even the men wore flashy jewellery as they covered up. After the war they rebuilt, focusing on the wealthy nature of their origin to embolden the culture they had almost lost. There were no open air markets, just gossiping onlookers and jewels.
The buildings seemed to go on for miles, going deeper into the valley in between the mountains. Except for their colours, they were all identical. The people of Vertan favoured order and uniformity, but there was a hidden layer of creativity in each architectural anomaly. Frovik’s humoured voice cut through her thoughts, “Have you ever seen anything like it, healer?” He didn’t turn to look at Aztrit when he asked this. She sucked her teeth to force herself to stay quiet. He knew she had.
Aztrit carried on observing, ignoring her brother’s attempt to rile her.
Kirk looked between the two. Frovik laughed at her silence, while Aztrit became angrier at every attempt he made to speak to her. Did they know each other? He knew she had been intimate with other beings in Midgard, was Frovik one of them? As Frovik spoke to a lesser elf to his side, Kirk leaned over and spoke to her, “He seems quite interested in you. Do you know him?”
She bit her lip and looked away from him. What was she to say? She didn’t want to cause more trouble than Frovik had already started. “No?” she formed it into a question, trying to find the right way to explain how she knew him.
“No? You sound unsure.” Kirk stood straight and eyed her as she fiddled with her hands. A lie in its darkest form. Why wouldn't she just tell him if she had been with him previously? He knew she wasn’t a virgin when he took her, what was the point in lying? He looked back to Frovik and felt a new feeling in the back of his throat–jealousy. Was it more than sex with him?
Aztrit felt twinges of pain coming from Kirk. She didn’t want to lie. But if told the truth then, Kirk was sure to do something rash. She chose instead to stay quiet. She knew she would pay for it, but now wasn’t the time.
They continued the path as it began to round through the centre of the city. On either side, were long silver halls with observatories atop them, spinning slowly. The silver casted deep shadows on the mountains, making the city seem encapsulated in luxury. The hall to the right ended with a circular building topped with a statue of the Goddess Idunn, keeper of apples and immortal youth.
Frovik stopped in front of the hall to the left, it stopped when it met the mountain perpendicular to itself. “This hall will be where you’ll stay as honoured guests of King Derkot. Will you be staying separately, or together?” Frovik’s eyes switched between the two, seemingly excited for an answer.
“Separately.” Kirk said first, not looking at her.
Frovik grinned wider, “Of course, Lord Verdulke. This way.” He led them into the cool building, their steps echoing off of the heavy slabs underneath them. He led Kirk to the first door past a trickling fountain. As he opened the door for the Lord, he fixed his lips to speak again. “If you wish, I can arrange for you to have company to warm your bed tonight, My Lord.”
Aztrit balled her fists as she looked between them. She could strangle Frovik. Kirk closed the door behind him without looking at the rage on her face.
Frovik laughed and wiped tears from his eyes. She grabbed him by his slender throat, unable to help her transformation. Her wings spread as her anger surged and her armour materialised on her body. He didn’t stop his laughter.
She pressed harder into his neck as his facial glamour dissolved and her brother came to life in front of her.
Loki stood taller than her in his true form. His lengthy black hair stayed the same as his sapphire eyes faded to his mischievous green. His armour radiated on his body, a twisted bronze engulfing his slender pale form. His face was rounder than the elf’s he had stolen the likeness of, with a scar gracing his neck horizontally. “Aztrit, don’t be so mad dearest sister. Although I have to say, fucking the man you’re supposed to kill is a little messy for Odin’s favourite.”
She set her feet on the ground. “You’ve had enough fun for today, Loki. Return the general and be on your way.”
“Always the Valkyrie. You’re usually so strict. I wonder if anyone else knows about your...indiscretions. You two make a very intriguing fragrance.” He put his weapon away and eyed the hallway around him. This would undoubtedly give him power over her. But he would have to bicker with himself whether or not to use it. They might not be siblings by blood, but possessed tremendous love for his sister. “Surely this is enough for father to consider it treasonous. Think about this before it gets out any further, Aztrit.”
“After everything you’ve done Loki, I’m finding it hard to believe that I’ll be the first to be cast out.” She calmed and changed back to her human form. She knew his words were true. It was different for Loki, he couldn’t help his urge to be abrasive, but for Aztrit to shun her father would be enough for him to retaliate fiercely against her. “Put everything back the way you found it brother, and leave.”
Loki was hurt at her cold welcome. “Not a hug for your dearest brother?”
Aztrit threw him a look only siblings recognized as he held out his arms for her. Reluctantly she accepted, embracing him briefly. “You show your affection so strangely. I never know if we will rejoice or kill one another.”
“It is my mission in life to keep you on your toes.” Loki planted a kiss on her hair. “I’ve come to warn you. Fenrir is loose and wreaking havoc across the realms. Another attack has happened at Valhalla.”
Aztrit shook the doubts she was holding. She already knew. Fenrir was the prophesied end of a better portion of the nine worlds, and possibly Odin himself. A great wolf with unbound power and size who was supposed to be chained in Helheim with Hel. Most importantly, he was Loki’s son, and now he had attacked Valhalla twice. “When was the last time you sedated him? Have you even been to see Hel recently?”
Aztrit pulled back, eager to see him fix his lips to tell tales. “Look me in the eye before you lie. I want to see you struggle for words.”
His silence spoke volumes. “Well…” he shrugged in quarter.
She hit his arm hard. “Two good sisters I almost lost to your children–your carelessness.”
Loki sighed at his little sister's chastising reverberated with her anxious pacing under his nose. Was it his fault he sired world enders? “You’re doing it again.” His skin crawled as she reminded him of his adopted mother.
Aztrit stopped pacing and rolled her eyes. “I am not Frigg, but you certainly are a child.” She loved her brother, but Fenrir escaping was a heavy progression in their timeline before Ragnarök. Was he only just taking responsibility now?
Loki took Aztrit’s shoulders in his hands and shifted back to Frovik. He could not stay long, but he was glad to see his sister. She was the only one who spoke his language. “Do not worry, I’m going to find him, sister. Be careful on your travels.”
Before walking away, Aztrit called him. "Wait. Do you know of any goddesses with children here on Midgard?" If Loki was anything, it was a prime source of gossip amongst the Gods. If Kirk’s mother was divine, it was likely Loki knew her.
Loki racked his mind and smiled. “Dearest sister, we usually leave the philandering to the Greeks." Aztrit rolled her eyes as he seemed pleased with his own cattiness.
Her brother’s shifting eyes travelled above her. She turned to see what had captured his attention and found Kirk glaring at the two of them.
Frovik removed his hands from her shoulders and set his eyes on Aztrit again. He liked the rebel she was becoming. “Be safe, healer.’’ He called her with a smile and walked past Kirk, back into the city.
She closed her eyes tightly, praying Kirk wasn’t as mad as she felt he was. “Kir–”
“You looked comfortable for strangers.” Kirk’s words came from his tight lips before he could calm himself.
“I do know him, but he’s not who you think he is. He’s–” she turned to face him, only to find herself cut off again.
“I asked you if you knew him, and you lied to me. But warriors are just your type, aren’t they, Valkyrie?”
He thought Frovik was her lover? Aztrit knew Kirk was angry, but she couldn’t help the smile and the laughter that racked through her.
This made him worse.
Kirk was jealous. “Kirk.” She approached him, ignoring anger etching lines in his face, and hugged his waist. She needed the laugh he gave her. “He’s my brother.”
Kirk unballed his fists and looked at her with confusion. Was she laughing at him? “General Frovik is your brother?” Was she lying to cover herself?
“My brother was borrowing Frovik’s image. It was Loki, my brother.” She felt the anger in Kirk’s body release with a wave of relief. She hadn’t told him while Loki remained because she didn’t want Kirk to alert anyone that the elf in front of them was an imposter.
Her brother thrived on discourse. It would make a terrible first impression.
“Loki?” He asked in shock. “Not your lover?’’ he held her as she hugged the frustration from his body. His sweet woman. Why couldn’t he trust her as she deserved?
“No.” She lifted her head to meet his understanding steele eyes with her amber. She touched his stiff chest and ran her fingers across the ridges his muscles made. “I quite liked you jealous. Green is a good colour on you.”
He rested his hand on the intake of her waist. “I apologise. It was wrong of me to not wait for your explanation.” He had been much more than jealous; murderous–possessive.
Aztrit smiled at the progress they had made. They were talking about what had happened instead of letting it get the better of them. It wasn’t much, but she appreciated the success all the same.
She placed her hands on his face and brought his lips down to hers. He enjoyed roving her mouth as he touched her body, and she would never deny him the pleasure he felt. He grasped her waist and walked her back towards his room.
Kirk needed her now.
She pulled away.
“Let me have you before dinner.” His words were not a request. He was demanding she join him and let him partake in the sweetness between her legs; to feel her quaking with pleasure beneath him again like their first joining.
As much as she desired that, she needed to visit home urgently. And Kirk liked to take his time. “I’m sorry. There’s somewhere I really have to be. But I’ll be here in a couple hours to join you for dinner. I promise.” He held Aztrit tighter, hoping to keep her against her will. He trusted her, but what if this separation lasted as long as it had before?
He connected their lips again, holding her tight to his body as she let her weight go in his arms. He was kissing her so softly, she felt she would cry. Aztrit could feel the pain they had inflicted on each other when they were apart and the love building between them. She knew suddenly that he was afraid to let her leave, not knowing when he would really see her again.
He caressed her waist and pulled back to look at her. She knew he was begging her not to leave. But she had to. “I promise you, I will be back sooner than you know.” She touched his hair and held his head. “You can always call for me, and I’ll come.” She kissed him again, and let the wind take her. Leaving his arms emptier than his heart felt.
✴
Aztrit appeared before the doors of Valhalla. The claw marks on the wood and stone were unmistakable. Fenrir had been here yet again.
The skies were distorted with long grey clouds and the wind whipped with ferocity across the plains. The unrest of the Gods sat heavy in the air.
The clear waters of Valhalla were now a concerning black, and the gentle water falls now roared with effort off of the land.
Two of her Valkyrie sisters appeared on the sides of the doors, kneeling in her path. Did she have but one competent sister? She spoke to the Valkyrie to her right as she passed them both and pushed open the doors. “Craitol. Why must it take the brother I tasked you with finding to tell me about an attack on our domain?”
Craitol rose, her short black hair wildly converging with the wind. She followed her leader into the long pillar filled hallway, trying desperately to keep up with her pace. “Fenrir was here again only last night, My Lady. Dahlia was going to come find you, but Odin was displeased by us pulling you away from your task once before. He said if you came again on your own to urge you to see him.” When Aztrit ignored her words and continued inside, Craitol continued. “My Lady, I should warn you–”
A look from Aztrit silenced her.
If something was happening in Valhalla, it was her duty to be front and centre. She might not be able to fight off the Harbinger herself, but that was for her to discover and not anyone underneath her.
She had left them unprotected. Again. Within her was the self-inflicted wound of failure.
Aztrit pushed open the doors to the hall and stood still in its frame. There were no heroes gathered, instead they would all be underneath the hall in the core of the building. All of her Valkyrie not on patrol were gathered around tables looking over the injured.
Her sisters turned to greet her as she entered, kneeling as she walked by. She searched through the tables, not seeing Dahlia. She spun quickly around to face a distraught Craitol. “Where is Dahlia?” Aztrit’s words came out more distressed than she intended.
No one in the hall answered her. Instead they looked to the last table, surrounded by candles floating gently in the air around Dahlia’s resting body.
Dahlia laid bloody and half alive, with only her left side distinguishable. The right was ridden with giant holes curved into a ‘U’ shape. It was the bite mark of a giant. Her hair was matted with her own blood, and her right arm was gone.
Aztrit hurried to the table side, growing angrier by the second. She placed a hand over her, sensing that her sister was still alive. She immediately removed her cape, helmet and breastplate. She would have to be as comfortable as possible to work on her. Because of her condition she would have to focus on only her. “Is anyone else in this condition?”
Craitol sounded off behind her. “No, My Lady. Everyone else is responding well to the tree mead.”
Aztrit sighed with relief as she finished preparing. With her current limitations she wouldn’t be able to heal for quite some time after this. She placed her hands on Dahlia’s head and chest. “I’m so sorry Dahl.” She felt heavily responsible for not being there to protect her sisters. No one was more capable to defend them than she was, and what had she been doing instead?
Aztrit took a long intake of breath as the hall quieted to silence. She closed her fists above Dahlia and released slowly, letting the tension she built wind down her fingers and into Dahlia’s body. She tried to centre her body as the force from her power winded her quickly.
She would not relent.
White light covered Dahlia as the table shook violently. Aztrit watched the holes in her body crack and meld back together. The dried blood on her body liquified and slowly drifted back into the wounds it parted from. The bone in Dahlia’s shoulder began extending and lifting out of the tattered flesh that was left of the missing limb.
Aztrit looked on in awe of her own power as each bone redeveloped, muscle wrapped itself around the calcium rebuilding, her body burning. It had started as gentle prickling, but she was out of breath, and her skin felt like it was being licked harshly by powerful flames.
She placed both hands on Dahlia’s chest as she screamed in pain–
She could not relent.
She thought about the support her sister had tried to give her, and the smile Dahlia always wore when they saw each other. She valued her for who she was, not what she could do for her–unlike her father.
Enlightenment burst within her.
Aztrit was nothing more than a machine of war to him, a contract killer that procured every warrior he decided he needed to protect himself from the reckoning he was due.
Dahlia knew who she was outside of her duties, like no one else did. She would continue until her sister's body was restored better than it was before, even if it killed her.
Loud claps of thunder surrounded the hall as Odin appeared. He passed the frightened Valkyries that kneeled quickly as he passed. He paid them no mind. He headed straight to the table at the end, noting how intently his daughter was focused on the injured Valkyrie she was rebuilding in front of her.
Aztrit was covered with the eternal flame. It coated every limb, even her wings that forcefully extended from the pain she was enduring had flames coating each pitch black feather. But the flames left the wearer unscathed.
She looked powerful–renewed.
Just as was prophesied.
Was this even possible? He had not seen this magic since…
Thoughts of Freyja vanished as Odin stopped a table away and looked on, he wouldn’t disturb her in her concentration. However, he was unhappy she hadn’t taken his requests seriously. He had asked her to not use her powers on her sisters, it would only prolong the deaths they were supposed to meet. There was always more Valkyrie to come, and none of them deserved to experience even a portion of his daughter's power.
Practising healing put her on a path that the Allfather did not like. One that whispered the chance of opposing sides.
The light grew brighter around Dahlia, the flesh on her arm was beginning to slow its regeneration, and the holes in her body had long since filled.
Aztrit could feel her father behind her, he would tell her his disapproval as he had done so many times before when she healed those closest to her. But nothing could take her from what she needed to do for her sister.
She balled her hands again as the force seeped back into her chest. She fell to her knees and coughed horrifically, blood seeping from the corners of her mouth. She bent over on the stone and gasped for breath. Craitol fell to her knees by her side as Aztit folded her wings back into her worn body.
Craitol soothed her, the intense burning of the flames dripping around her faded, leaving Aztrit to gather her breaths.
As Dahlia woke, she could feel Aztrit’s energy burning inside her. She felt the arm that had once been ripped from her body and touched the torso that was riddled with cavities.
Even the gentle scarring from past battles had disappeared. She sat up slowly and looked into her sister's face, the blood at the corners of her mouth indicating that she had given everything she had to heal her.
She took her pale hands and wiped her mouth, “Craitol quickly—the tree mead.” She said as Aztrit tried to replace the breath in her body. She smoothed her sister's hair out of her exasperated face, lifting the cup Craitol brought to her brown lips.
Aztrit let heavy tears fall as she gulped the smooth liquid. She felt the healing take place right away, knowing that her insides had begun to deteriorate from the power she was trying to grow accustomed to. She finished the drink and threw her arms around her sister. “I’m so sorry, Dahlia. I should’ve been here. Nothing should have kept me away.” Her sister rubbed her back as she cried. Not caring that her father might have been insulted with her words.
Dahlia saw cogs turning in Odin’s mind.
Odin was not offended by her words, but they did make him think. His daughter seemed different, and she stunk of a smell he couldn’t place. This behaviour was frustratingly familiar to him. This was not the first time the Valkyries had turned their backs on him, but it would be the last.
Vanir magic had once thrived in Asgard, brought and practised by the old Gods they had adopted as their own. Freyja and Frigg themselves had administered and oversaw its implementation in Valhalla. How had his daughter spurred this resurgence?
He continued to observe as the Valkyrie pulled away, only then did Aztrit start giving her orders. She was a natural leader, and unrelenting in the face of adversity.
Aztrit felt more powerful than she ever had as the effects of the mead wore off. Her veins felt like fire filled them. Instead of the sting it had left against her skin. The feeling travelled from her heart and worked its way out to her head and toes. She stood firm as it racked through her, lighting her insides intensely.
She felt anew. Like a deep part of her was seeing the world in front of her for the very first time. She hadn’t only changed the colour of her cloth, something inside her made her feel she was worthy of the shift in her soul.
She turned to the All father–her father, seeing the look of astonishment on his face as she transformed. She addressed her Valkyrie as they stared on in surprise, “Keep your legions tight until we’ve found Fenrir sisters. If Ragnarök is on our horizon, nothing will be more important than defending our home. Craitol, take Dahlia back to her rooms. I want constant patrols on all of the nine worlds on the great tree. If you find Fenrir, report back. Do not engage.”
Odin approached her and spoke before she could. “Times are changing quickly, daughter. It seems you’ve found your stride.”
She listened to her father carefully, his words didn’t match the emotion in his eyes. He seemed to be reevaluating how he saw her.
There was a change inside her that she couldn’t place. A change that was undoubtedly going to leave a mark on the outcome of Ragnarök. “So they are. Loki came to see me. I would assume that someone is trying to contact Hel? If she has turned, all of this will be for naught. With Fenrir loose and attacking, Surtr will surely catch wind on Muspelheim that we are growing weak.”
“I agree. Thor is in the process of gathering information on Hel. But our standing with Muspelheim has always been definite. We have to be prepared when Surtr comes from the world of fire.” Odin said the last part with finality. Surtr's arrival in Asgard was long overdue. Never had the demons of Muspelheim favoured the gods in Asgard. He would strike when they were weakest.
Aztrit thought of the movements they would have to plan carefully after this sign of Ragnarök. Surtr was not the only entity to be aware of. Even as they stood in front of one another, her father was not her ally, but she wished him to be.
She knew what she would do. This was bigger than she was. Larger than Odin and even Asgard. This would be a defining moment, one in which she did not want to linger.
Even still, she hoped her father would see reason–see the value in keeping Kirk alive. Although fate had weaved its path, perhaps their interpretation–their actions–could change.
“You will have what you desire for the future father. For Asgard.” She held a fist to her chest.
Odin watched as the hall echoed around her, spirits and warriors alike, “For Asgard.” He was pleased but not deterred. His daughter would have to prove she would always be loyal to him.
To be continued...