Disclaimer: Valkyrie Profile and its characters belong to…its Square Enix now, I suppose. Not me.
The Matter Dragon is one of the mightier creatures inhabiting the scarred plains of Midgard. Over eight fall tall and weighing more than a ton, its talons are sharper than any blade forged by mortal hands, it's scales thicker than mythril. In battle, its plague breath could devastate entire armies.
The Matter Dragon in front of Arngrim was panting heavily, it's horned head drooping low to the ground. The gashes his Murderer's Lament Blade had opened gushed blood onto the parched brown soil. Summoning its last reserves of strength, the Matter Dragon opened its jaws for its plague breath attack. The chaste preserver amulet Arngrim protected him from poison status and prevented his DME from losing but a minimal amount.
Arngrim smiled with a hunter's satisfaction. His turn. He dashed up to the creature and swung, relishing the feeling of flesh tearing before his sword, and dashed back in time to watch the familiar blue wall of light enclose the Dragon as it perished.
The sound of clapping came behind him, before he had a chance to savor his victory. Arngrim turned. Standing high above on a ridge was Mystina.
"Well. Quite a show you put on. Bravo," she commented with a smirk. Arngrim nonchalantly sheathed the huge sword behind his back.
"Show? I ain't no circus clown. Just doing what needs to be done, regardless whether I got an audience," he said nonchalantly. "Anyway, what brings you here, Mystina? You didn't come here to shower acclaim on my skills as a thespian."
"I was ordered to inquire as to whether you've found the Harp of Olympus artefact yet. You hadn't reported to Valhalla for months and some of the Einherjar were becoming concerned."
"Really?" Arngrim crossed his arms and smirked. "Including you?"
"You wish. Have you found it or not?" Arngrim reached into a sack tied around his waist and pulled out a musical instrument that shone with its brilliant gold coloring.
"This it?" Mystina nodded.
"Yeah. When did you discover it?"
"'Bout a week or two ago. Why?" Most of the time, when she talked with Argrim, Mystina's expression stayed in a cold scepticism, as though were preparing herself to analyse whatever he said and extract whatever knowledge contained therein potentially beneficial to her. Sometimes, like now, Arngrim succeeded in upsetting this mask of hers. He loved it when that happened.
" A week? Or two? You know how determined the Lady Valkyrie is to recover the Harp! What have you been doing all this time!?" He shrugged.
"Sometimes a man just needs his time alone, y'know? I like being autonomous." His rationalization made Mystina snort.
"I suggest you deliver that artefact to Valhalla, Mr. Lone wolf, before the Lady Valkyrie sends an Executioner after you instead of me."
"Ok, ok. Enough nagging, woman. I'm going." The outline of his body shone with a white light and he was then gone, having materialized in Valhalla. Mystina was left alone in the desolate valley.
"You might not know Arngrim, but we do worry about you…"
Arngrim found himself seated at his usual place at the feasting hall that evening. It was where the Einherjar enjoyed their meals after a rousing day of battle. Neither the Lady Valkyrie nor Lucian ever made an appearance there. The table's conversation was dominated as always by Kashell's boasting and Badrach's lewd tales that made Loretta cover Jelanda's ears. Arngrim was content to sit back and enjoy his food, speaking up only when a question was asked of him or when the others asked him to share a war story. In spite of this aloofness, the other Einherjar appreciated his presence there with them.
When he'd his fill, Arngrim excused himself and began walking towards the Einherjar quarters, looking forward to a good night's rest. While walking, Arngrim's mood turned reflective. He liked being an Einherjar, for he found a life of combat and celebration well suited to his tastes.
There came the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Frei, one of the few old Aesir Gods not retired by Valkyrie running towards him.
"Sir Arngrim!" The Lady Valkyrie has asked your presence in the throne room. She says it is a matter of importance, so please do hurry." Arngrim nodded.
"I'm on my way." He didn't mind having his evening interrupted. After all, is an Einherjar's purpose not to serve his Valkyrie?
"I am here, Lady Valkyrie, at your service," Arngrim said kneeling before the throne where the Allfather Odin had once held court. The one occupying it now was Lenneth Valkyrie, dressed no longer in her familiar Blue-and-grey armor and feathered helmet but a shimmering white dress and tiara. Standing beside the throne as always was her personal companion Lucian.
"Stand, Einherjar Arngrim. Your lady has a task for you." He did. "You are to visit the Artolian Mountain Ruins. We have heard rumors of a cult holding rituals there to raise the dead. Investigate and put a stop to these odious practices if the rumors are true." Arngrim nodded. There was no question of obeying.
"It shall be done, my Lady"
"Then go. I expect might deeds of you." He bowed and teleported out to re-materialize in front of the ruins. He pushed open the great stone gates and entered the dark-shrouded interior. Arngrim had been here before with Valkyrie in what seemed like a million years ago. Unlike last time, there were no monsters to put to rest. He quickly reached the chamber where they'd fought the Lesser Vampire.
Arngrim noted the ritual materials scattered about the chamber- candlesticks, skull everywhere, the scent of incense and blood…there was ancient looking tome lying on a table nearby. He moved to it and reached to touch out of curiosity.
Arngrim heard the sound of curse magic triggering. A pentagram formed on the floor beneath his feet. Arngrim tried to move out of the trap but-
My body…I can't move! he thought. His limbs had gone numb. A wall of blue light surrounded him, entrapping him. Then there came a voice.
"Well, what has the spider caught in his web this night?" There was a Ting! Sound as a blue spark circled around on the floor, announcing the immanent arrival of someone using teleportation magic. A familiar bespectacled form took on shape and color, gradually becoming complete until Arngrim found himself staring at his captor.
Lezard. The necromancer pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked over his prey. "Well how about that!," he snickered he saw the helpless mercenary. "Picture it: there I was. Little old Lezard, minding my own business when my raven familiar flys onto my shoulder and tells me my cursed spell book trap at the Mountain ruins just activated. I'm all flush with excitement, hoping a King Hydra or Great Simian had wandered into my book trap to provide me with spell ingredients, but here I find an honest-to-gods Einherjar. I must live right." Arngrim vainly continued trying to find some way to free himself and break Lezard in half. There was then the sound of a second person teleporting into the room, behind Lezard.
"Ah! I'd like you to meet a recent acquaintance of mine, the woman who I hope will play matchmaker, if you will, between Dear Lady Valkyrie and myself. Behind him stepped the worst person possible in such a situation.
Hrist.
It couldn't be possible. Arngrim himself had helped destroy when she had taken over from Lenneth. Yet here she was, staring hungrily at him through cruel eyes that almost cut at him like daggers. She wore black armor, a cruel parody of the Valkyrie he had served loyally.
"Oh my," she said in her raspy voice, a tone that crawled the length of his back. "If it isn't Arngrim the Artolian mercenary. He and I go back. Indeed we do. We also have some unfinished matters to address- ones that can only be resolved over a very long time and with very sharp blades."
"Then it works out both ways, then!," Lazard said cheerfully." You get to settle the score and I get an Einherjar to play with. I always did wonder what made them tick…I'll transport him back to the lab."
"I'll be waiting there," Hrist informed him before teleporting out.
.Lezard stepped forward and began chanting an incantation. He drew back his right hand then threw it forward again, as though he was throwing something. The walls of his prison began closing in. Before Arngrim lost consciousness, his mind called out to the only one who could now help him- The Valkyrie he was sworn to.
It wasn't often that the Lady Valkyrie summoned the Einherjar to assemble in the throne room. When the last of them had arrived (Badrach), she rose from her seat and began the speech she had been dreading.
"My Einherjar, as may know by now, Arngrim has been captured by Lezard the Necromancer and my Sister Hrist. There is no doubt he now suffers much at their hands and cries out for salvation. However…" The ruler of Valhalla paused.
"Loki's betrayal greatly strained Valhalla's resources. We have but a fraction of the troops and material Odin had at his command. Many artefacts were again scattered to the dark corners of Midgard. As well, Loretta and Belanus can attest to Lezard's considerable power. It is for these reasons that Arngrim is beyond our aid for the conceivable future. I have spoken. You may leave. "
The Einherjar took a moment to digest the information, then slowly began filing out. There was no protest or outrage. The silence in the room was broken only by Jelanda's muffled sobbing in the antechamber. When the last one had departed, Lucian turned to her.
"Platina, are you sure this was the right thing to do?"
"The loss of Arngrim is unfortunate, yes. But there are times when a sacrifice for the greater good is necessary. Do you not agree?"
"That's true. But…can I ask you something?"
"Speak your mind."
"If it was me that was captured, would you try to rescue me?"
"Of course. I went through the trouble of bringing you back, did I not?"
"But…why would you try to save me?"
"What a question, Lucian! Because you're special to me, that's why."
And they spoke of Arngrim no more.