Bifrost: Chapter XV

XV - Casualties of War

 

Sweat poured from Aztrit’s brow as she woke. 

She sat up quickly in bed, searching the darkness for something out of place. Everything was just as she had left it, the fire still flickering, and a fresh bowl of rose water on her desk. But where was Dahlia? Hadn't she said she would wake her when she returned? 

High pitched buzzing coursed through Aztrit’s mind. She held her ears, screaming in pain. “Look…look…” She heard Dahlia whisper. But their connection seemed forced, and unnatural. 

The same images of trees and camps crossed her mind as it had in her dream with Hel. Except now she could see exactly where the battles were taking place, right where Kirk was.

The buzzing ended. 

How could it not be a trap? Why would Hel want her to stop him from becoming her captive? It was him or their child, she had said so herself. So why would she warn her? 

Aztrit got out of bed and struggled to bend down to tie her sandals. She huffed and reached over and under her belly. She grumbled in frustration. “Fuck this.” She snapped her fingers, allowing them to appear tied on her legs. She grabbed her riding cloak, and rushed from the room. 

She would warn Kirk, not of Hel’s plan entirely, but she would tell him what she saw. Then, he could decipher his own plan. 

She pushed open the hall doors, almost running into Lefelgd and Angeana. She quickly shut them again, and hid behind a statue in the corner while they entered. If spotted, they would surely stop her. 

“I only want to check on her. She promised she would come.” Even while worried, Angeana looked regal. Every breath she took radiated grace with her crowned head and chin held high. 

Lefelgd led her by her waist, “I’m sure she’s only resting. We should do the same.”  

Angeana shook her head and paused outside of the bedroom door. “No. I am worried for her. You have not been here to see the life draining from her eyes, I have. Kirk should be here, she needs him.” 

Lefelgd sighed and held her shoulders. “My Queen...I have told you, he could not be spared. I would be by his side if he had not ordered me back with our men. He was right, only one of us could go.” 

“Is the war that hopeless?” 

Aztrit peeked from behind Idunn. Lefelgd’s silent stare, the way his brows furrowed with fright, and his hands clenched his Queen’s shoulder spoke it for him. “The wall has fallen. What is left of Hyatse will not stand by morning. It is time to hold our defences where we are best prepared, at home. Kirk will go straight from Kloi to Karth in the morning. It is overrun and his people are dying.”  

Angeana’s gasp reflected the hurt Aztrit was beginning to feel. When had he decided that? “What of Aztrit? Their child will arrive any second.” 

Lefelgd had no hesitation when he took his hands back. “Starting in the morning, they will be guarded day and night to ensure that she stays here.” 

Angeana couldn’t help the small laugh she gave in rejection. “And who will tell her this? I don’t have the power to calm a Valkyrie, do you?” 

He shook his head. “We’ll wait until the morning. For now, let us check on her, and allow her to continue resting.” 

Aztrit watched them knock on the door before calling for her and entering. She flashed to the stables, and held onto Fora’s gate for strength. Deep breaths turned to heavy sobs, shaking her body as she audibly cried. The tears kept coming, pouring from her eyes like faucets as Fora nudged her head. “I-I’m okay. Fora...enough!” she yelled, and lifted her head to look into her eyes. She controlled her sobs. “I’m sorry…” 

She pet her mane, allowing her to bring her snout close to her cheek. In the distance she heard them coming. “Seal the gate!” 

Aztrit looked up to Fora again. “Let’s go for a ride.” 

✴

“You don’t think running right to him is a bit of an overreaction?” Loki eyed Thor up and down as he knocked on the Allfather's door for the second time, his white cheeks turning red from frustration. 

“No, I do not. If what you said is true—which I am hesitant to believe because no one knows my father better than I—he’ll be happy to clarify his purpose for misleading us.” He continued to stare at the door, seeing Loki rocking back and forth on his heels out of the corner of his eyes. “Be still.” Thor seethed through the silence.

 Loki sighed and shook his head. Sitting here, working within reason was going to do them no good. “He isn’t going to answer.” He looked to his brother again, not hearing him ask why. “Why? Why, I’m glad you asked dear brother. Because he isn’t your father anymore. What is he then? That’s an even better question!” Loki replied to himself excitedly. “He’s a power obsessed nutcase eating out of the Queen of Hell’s hand. That’s what he is, and that’s why. I’m so glad we had this conversation.”

Thor turned and stared at him down. “Aye? Then why didn’t you stop her, you self obsessed urchin? You’re just as guilty as she is, and if Aztrit didn’t need you you’d be dead by my hand!” 

Loki loosened his breast plate and beat it with his fist, “Then just kill me now you fat ox so that I don’t have to hear your whining any longer.” He threw his hands up and pretended to swing a large two handed hammer. “Look at me—Thor; God of Shitting Thunder, I fuck who I like and I piss gold!”

“Why you shit–” Thor bellowed as he grabbed Loki’s collar. 

Anticipating this, Loki shifted into a serpent in his tight fist. He wrapped his tail around Thor's Bicep and squeezed, preparing to bite the pink flesh turning white from pressure. 

“Excuse me...your highnesses…” Craitol said softly as she saw Thor trying his best to strangle the snake, and Loki sinking his teeth into Thor’s hand. “Your highnesses?!” she said louder over them, making them pause in motion. 

Thor loosened his grip on Loki, feeling his fangs come out of his hand. Loki shifted back, and they straightened their clothes. “Yes, Craitol?” Thor said to the floor tiles by their feet. 

She shook her head at them. “He isn’t in. He left this morning crashing and banging. I tried to tell Aztrit, but I couldn’t reach her. Dahlia hasn’t answered either, and we’re all beginning to worry.” 

Loki nodded. There was every reason to worry. “Come inside, Craitol.” He motioned to Odin’s chamber door. Thor tried to open it but found it locked. He looked at him in disbelief. “Did you really think that would work?” 

He shrugged. “A closed door isn't a locked door.”

Loki muttered under his breath and waved a hand over it, hearing the locks on the other side beginning to turn. Stiff air flew past them as they stepped into the overwhelming darkness. 

It was true. The Allfather was gone.

They looked at each other and spoke in unison. “Aztrit.”

✴

Flashes of lightning gave way to thunder as Aztrit and Fora landed in the Malioods.

She looked through the trees that seemed to cover the sky with their leaves. Even an expert climber would take days to reach their peaks. Long ago, they had been enchanted that way by travelling sorcerers the dwarves had hired to keep the other nations out. 

To prevent Hyatse from being attacked and ambushed above, they would make their trees impossible to climb. Hyatse was a dwarven sea city built in a crack in Midgard’s surface, a red brown soil streak through the dense covered forest floor that hid it from attackers. Its opening was off the sea cliffs on the ocean making it impenetrable if not welcomed.

It was told that the elves had mastered Avian travel, large eagles much like her Fathers crows had been a preferred method for ambushes such as these. While these birds had been driven to extinction by war, the enchantment remained.  

The Maliood Forest seemed peaceful. In the distance she spotted a doe pushing along her offspring, and a still pond where bairht flies shone to their reflections, floating just out of reach of the tadpoles hunger. “On Fora.” Aztrit motioned her forward, following the scent of fire. 

She only expected a small gathering to be left behind if what Lefelgd had said was true. Those who did not return with Lefelgd would likely be halfway to Karth by now. Leaving Kirk to move in and settle their dispute with Kloi. It was not their intention to occupy the city, only cripple it to their will. 

As she spotted two elven guards in the distance, she rode harder. False bird calls rang through the air as they spotted her and prepared to keep her from entering. But as she approached the encampment, the men standing guard recognized her immediately. 

Aztrit allowed them to help her dismount. “Kirk!” She called in worry, searching the faces that surrounded her as she headed towards the largest blue tent, the canvas opening was pinned open. 

As she saw his dark hair bend down to exit, and stand to his full seven foot height just outside of the tent she bit back her tears. Four—nearly five—long months, and there he was. 

“Aztrit?” The confusion on his face melted away quickly, replaced with cold rage as he saw her soaked with water, shivering as she called to him. His silver eyes darkened, his black scar crumpling with his drawn together dark brows.

Kirk tried to calm himself as he snatched Aztrit from the rain, dragging her roughly into the tent as she tried to speak to him. “I should kill you myself. Why are you not in Vertan?!” he shouted as she quieted, closing her lips slowly. 

Speechless at the volume he wore, Aztrit shook her head gently. His anger clouded her mind. What had she come here for? “I…I had a vision…” She began, cut off by his clear angry laughter.

“A vision?” Kirk said in disbelief, turning away from her as he let her go, not wanting to release his anger on her. He looked back at her, and down to her heavy belly. “How did you find us?” 

She shook her head. “Dahlia...I think she—” 

“I told her to keep it to herself! I knew you couldn’t be trusted if you knew!” 

Gaining her composure, Aztrit stomped her foot and grabbed his cloak. “Just listen!” She shook him as she begged. 

Kirk stilled, her eyes filled with tears. He breathed deeply with her, and took her face into his palm. Her eyes were sunken, and she looked malnourished. Her hair had lost its lustre, and her breasts, while still beautiful in the red dress, seemed smaller. “You haven’t taken care of yourself my love. You promised you would.” 

Aztrit shook with tears as he brought her into his chest. She was so tired. Tired enough to lie down and sleep for decades. “Kirk, in the capital, Hel is waiting for you.” 

Kirk nodded. “Aye Valkyrie, I know. Loki has told us of the control she has over Kloi.” He stroked her head and kissed the top. We have surrounded them, they have nowhere else to go.” 

She took comfort in his pine scented warmth. “It’s a trap, I know it. I had to see you and tell you.” His hand squeezed her waist. She listened to his heartbeat through his clothes, how many more of these would they share?  

He looked down on her, “How did you know she was there?” 

His eyes told her to tell the truth, not any halves. “She came to me in a dream. She told me that I needed to stop you from coming or she’d make you her prisoner.” 

Unbeknownst to Aztrit, the pieces came together for Kirk. This was what she had been holding out for. Hel knew defending Hyatse's Heart was a losing battle. She had only to wait until she could win the war; by turning her enemies on each other.

They were all here now, that could only mean one thing. 

Thunder clapped above, shaking the ground. Kirk steadied Aztrit as they all wobbled. On cue, Eric rushed into the tent. “Kirk!” 

Kirk shook his head. Hel would get exactly as she wished. Aztrit was not the only Asgardian making an appearance today.

Kirk looked back at Aztrit’s confused eyes. “You must leave, now.” 

“But Kirk—” 

“Now, Aztrit!” He bellowed above the commotion outside. The quiet of her fear spoke to him. “Please...I will call for you. I swear it.” 

Listening to his command, Aztrit thought of Vertan. Seconds went by and the commotion only got louder. She opened her eyes, only to see Kirk still in front of her. She closed them again, with the same result. 

Kirk watched her grow stiff. “Aztrit—” 

“I...I’m trying.” Still, she went nowhere. “Gods...Kirk…” She tried to shift to her Valkyrie form, with the same result. She looked between them both. “I have no powers. I’m no longer Valkyrie.” Which could only mean— 

Wind blew with greater force than most could withstand. Suddenly the dense dark tree tops were above them, the tents and men flying backwards from the gust. Kirk drew his axe and swung it into the ground, grabbing her with his free arm to stop them both from hurtling into the trees.  

The earth shook from the Allfather's landing, the wind died.

Only leaves crunching could be heard as they both looked to the distance where Odin had stood, his great blade pointed into the rich forest floor. 

Kirk felt Aztrit shake in fear. 

Odin’s blond hair blew rapidly, his eyes switched between them both–glazed red from his fury. Where Kirk’s men stood at his feet, he was ten times the size. His retribution would be swift. 

Hel had gotten her wish. Odin would collect her prize for her.

Clashing steel–godlike and mortal–fell in Aztrit’s ringing ears. Screams curdled on distant lips, soft gurgling of blood and bile dripped from gasping spouts. She winced, her forehead sticking to the vibrant grass that seemed to sway as if swept by currents with each breath she took. When had she been hit?

For a moment, battle, blood, and prophecies did not seem to exist. She had forgotten where she was, why she was there, and how important it was for her not to remain. Only for a moment, then it all became reality once more. The thinning pain clasping her heart reminded her why she felt sick. 

Her own gaging jolted her semi-upright. Her palms lifted her upper body as she got sick in the grass in front of her. Dizzying pain knifed its way through her belly, stealing her breath. 

“Aztrit!” Kirk’s calling faded on the strong winds underneath blackened skies. Nightmare birds' wings forced strong winds through the ever tall trees sweeping mortal men off of their feet. “Aztrit!” She heard him call again, and glanced to the side to see a commander she had often seen speak with Kirk with joy, skewered to a tree. 

The Goddess got sick again. 

It was unexplainable why this stench of death was different from all that she had seen before. Maybe because unlike the others, these deaths seemed too final—too wasteful, and too real. This stench smelled like the end, and it carried the rotting carelessness of all the corpses that had been made before it. 

“Aztr–” Kirk bellowed as he saw the Orofarne warrior draw back his bow, aiming towards her slumped chest. A thunk with great depth cut him short as an arrow met flesh and her scream sounded.  

Aztrit rocked through her cries of pain. She tried to lift her head and drew her open hand slowly up the soft wet dew collecting on her arm, mixing with droplets of her own blood trickling down to her elbow. 

She winced as her fingertips met the serrated cursed arrow that had hit her shoulder. She looked into the red demon's eyes as he drew back again, surer of his shot this time. She chilled her eyes and pulled the arrow out without breaking his gaze. Unable to silently communicate with him, she mouthed her words. “Terror.” 

The warriors' chainmail rattled as his arm froze and his cold emotionless face curved into deep despair. His red and yellow eyes welled and widened, his legs buckled beneath him. 

Aztrit focused all of her energy, manipulating his emotions until he felt his pain was real. It was true that anyone could be scared to death. Fear was only an emotion just like the rest, but its power laid in the affects it took on the heart–until it stopped. 

When vacant eyes glazed back at her, and he stopped clenching at his chest, Aztrit tried to stand. Another warrior rushed forward and held his axe high. She thrusted her hand forward with nothing in it, and met his might. Flesh cutting and another blank stare enveloped her. His fingers unclenched the wooden handle of his steele axe and he dropped to his knees. 

She prayed for him as she pulled Kulda from his ribs. “You were bred for violence, and violence has accepted you as its eternal gift.” No pity was felt as he leaned into the grass at his side. 

These were not her enemies. Her attention was wasted here, and the winds swept her to the waiting nose of her executioner. 

The skies shook as the ravens screeched. They landed on either side of the small clearing, their talons scattered dirt and pieces of man into the treelines. "I have been searching for you.” Silent air whispered as light and wind combined. “You have shown yourself.”

An involuntary tightening of her bloody grip on Kulda's dark handle twitched through her hand as her father appeared before her. “You taught me to be unafraid of meeting those who would strike me down.” 

Towering and true, Odin’s narrowed pale blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “A turn of phrase I didn't believe to mean me. But this has long been what you wished. To take what I would have willingly given you away from me, to assist my enemies in destroying what I have built for you. By carrying their spawn.” He lifted his great blade towards her swollen stomach.

This man was not her Father. She could see the shadows in his face, in his mind. The Well’s waters had taken their fee, and there would be no negotiating.

The Allfather was lost, and would not see that he was bringing his own end.

Ragnarök had begun. 

Odin had let it come to this  by mobilising, turning on those closest to him until his dynasty was broken from the inside out. All Hel had had to do was bring them together, the rest was hers. “You’re right. The moment I learned who he was, who he had come from, I knew it was you we would have to kill. To purge Asgard of its false prophet, it’s leader who entrusted birds over kin in cowardice and schemes. So I used Lord Verdulke as a tool, and our child will be your end.” 

Huginn lifted and screeched, his full wing span spreading into the trees and into his brother bird. ‘We warned you. She says so with her own lips. She was plotting your demise.’ 

Odin’s eyes visibly twitched as he teared. “No…” He shook his head–flashes of her smiling young face, and her mother cradling her flashing through his mind. “You have not the decency to even deny it?”

Aztrit kept her face still, the war on his features plunged daggers further into her heart. Odin had only come because he was set on killing her. She would not have him torture himself for centuries to come if any doubt was left in his mind. But her tears told a different story than her lips. She hadn't known who Kirk was, or why she had begun to feel so strongly for him, and the only thought she had had for her father was wishing for his acceptance. Not his demise. “I will not dishonour you by pleading for my life, or my childs.” 

“I sought this future, drank its waters for you.” Odin whispered. 

Aztrit spat. “You did that for yourself. Do not lie—” 

“For my people—” he continued, shaking his head. 

“For a spectre! A ghost! Not for those who looked to you for promise!” 

“I loved her! I held her lifeless corpse! I promised her safety and beauty and she died in fear and Hel’s fury.” He choked on his words as he cried. His strained voice cracked through each syllable. “In her fire.” He looked at Aztrit's hands and back to her face. “You’ve always belonged to Death, haven’t you? Eir…” Odin cried softly, his tears carrying in the wind.

Aztrit dropped her sword and sank to her knees. The soft grass pulled her in for comfort. The trees rustled on the calm wind, and the baihrt flies began to blink once more. When had the battle stopped around them? 

Only dead men and exiles lay around them, returning to the earth where they belonged. They all looked the same from here, no cause to fight left between them. 

“Eir...my Sonu…” she heard her father continue to cry. 

This was a good enough place to die. 

Peace could be found within war if only the senses were disabled. 

Aztrit’s father would kill her, and she would forgive him. It was the only thing she could do. This was what Derkot had wanted from her. This would be how their new worlds would begin. She felt it in her core. 

Odin looked to the sky and took the hilt of his great blade in both of his fists. With the point facing downwards above Aztrit’s head, he raised it. "Eir…I make this offering to you, so that you may take this life and make it your own.” 

Aztrit gave her attention to the boots on Odin’s feet, marking them as the last thing she would see. “Freyja, bless me by bringing me to your afterlife, to live in glory and light alongside you.” She clenched the folds of her dress. 

“For Asgard.” They said in unison as blade sliced air and took life. 

But no pain came.

Aztrit could hear only her heart beating in her ears. 

Had she deserved a quick painless death? She could still feel blood flowing to her fingers, and her toes. Had she met her fate at all?

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, only to see Kirk above her with Kulda in his fist plunged into the Allfather's chest. Her father.

 “No…” she whispered as her father’s eyes released the tears he had been holding back and felt them land one by one on Aztrit’s shock riddled cheeks. “No.” She said in disbelief again as her father fell at her skirt with blood staining the cloth beneath his armour. 

Kirk drew his hand back as Odin fell, and moved from between them. 

He heard Aztrit’s voice break as she repeated herself. Hadn’t he done the right thing by saving her and their child? “Aztrit—” He tried to touch her but she pushed his hand away and cradled her father’s head. “I had to…” 

Kirk felt her heart breaking in his own. 

He had broken his promise. The Allfather was dead.

Betrayal, horror, and grief blinded him as her cries carried on the night. If only she would let him come close, then she would see that he only meant to do what was best for her. 

He stepped close again and reached out, “Aztrit I—” The raven's screeching stopped him. Huginn and Muninn lunged at him, and covered Odin and Aztrit with their great wings. 

Kirk looked to them, receiving the message clearly. He stopped his eyes from tearing and retreated slowly into the treeline behind him. 

Hel would pay for all she had done.

 

To be continued...