I don't own the characters in this fic. If I did, Valkyrie Profile would be a little different from the game we all know and love. However I won't contest the rights to Badrach, Lucian and Gandar. They're just plain icky. Lezard, Lenneth and all the rest are all properties of Tri Ace and Enix. This fiction is meant as no infringement on copy rights, purely for recreational purposes.

----Michelle

It was a beautiful day to be outside, the sky blue and clear of rain clouds, the temperature cool, with just a hint of the upcoming spring in the breeze. Many people were out and about to appreciate this respite from a hard winter season. Children cut school, men only put in a half day at work, and wives found themselves outside doing laundry with the sun on their faces.

However, not all of the good people of Flenceberg could be bothered to leave their homes. There was one who wouldn't even spare a glance out the window, too intent on the task that had consumed his thoughts for years now. His home---a tower, was located in the remotest part of the country, just on the edge of the woods. The dense canopy of the forest kept all but the most persistent of travelers away from the imposing tower. Few if any paid him a visit, and then only if one was gifted with incredible powers of sorcery, or one who had the blood of the God's flowing through their veins would successfully appear on his doorstop.

It was just the way the Lord of the Manor preferred things. Once he had liked human company, enjoying long scholarly discussions on the semantics of magic, meeting a friend for a drink at the local tavern. But that was before he was expelled from Flenceberg Academy, laughed at, called insane by peers and teacher's alike. And so he had retired to a life of solitude, with only monsters and dead things for companionship.

He became a creature of habit, his days falling into a pattern of routine tasks, working to improve his magic, making sure the floors of his tower were kept stocked with the most menacing of monsters. Studying books both night and day, for the spell to light up his home came to him as easily as snapping one's fingers. But there was one obsession that consumed his thoughts at all times. A woman---a beautiful Goddess, who upon first impressions seemed cold and uncaring, but had the heart of a kind savior, caring for all life, including humanity.

If Lezard had been infatuated with her before the events that had occurred in the Weeping Lilies Meadow, now he was besotted with love for her down to the very core of his being. He had seen first hand that there was more to her than power and beauty, even as jealousy surged in his heart, the flicker of hope appeared, for if she could love a mortal---the blond haired soldier, clad in red---Lucian, then perhaps she could love him as well.

But how to reach her? If only he could but soar to the heavens, set foot on Asgard and speak to her. But that was impossible, he had not yet become a God, and was not ready to die again. Yes, he had died, killed himself actually. He became a wandering ghost, hoping to be taken into her presence. That had only minimal results, and though he saved her, brought her back into existence, she had no thanks for him. She did not even appear to realize it was he who had helped her!

The world was destroyed soon after, and only the sacrifice of his treasured Philosopher's Stone saved him, gave him back his flesh. The world was remade, and he was left beret of both love and stone.

Without the Philosopher's Stone's knowledge, he was forced to work twice as hard, only having his notes to rely on. Many more homunculus' were destroyed, the rate of elves kidnapped increasing, their lives wasted for nothing. And on this beautiful day, one more was added to the death toll...

"It didn't work." The brown haired, spectacled youth muttered, glaring at the body on the metal slab. "I was sure I had the spell right this time!" But the proof lie in front of him, the body still and without breath, utterly worthless to him now. He leaned over the body, carefully inspecting the remnants of the spell. As always he had taken the utmost care to craft the homunculus to perfection. The face was sculpted exquisitely, high cheek bones, a delicate nose, lips soft and pink. The eyes were stained by magic to remain a permanent blue, the hair grown out past the homunculus' knees, loose and dyed silver. The skin was like fine porcelain, the body without fat, legs long and lean, curves in all the right places. Perhaps he had taken a bit too much liberty in the figure's bust line, making them several cup sizes larger than the Goddess' actual proportions, but he was first and foremost a man, believing the adage 'Big is always better.'

The altar the body rested on was drenched in blood, both the fresh red color of newly split blood, and the old, darkened, crusted over remains of sacrifices long ago. Dry herbs had been crushed into a fine powder, lightly dusted over the open eyes, the lips, and the nostrils. A wind spell had been incanted, to give the body the breath of life. A light fire spell to bless the homunculus with body heat. Water to give it sweat and precious fluids to keep it from dehydrating. A long tube inserted into the right arm, it's coils looping down to a bucket of red liquids---the last of the blood the elf had to spare, needed to get the heart pumping. The calling of Earth magic to hardened it's muscles. And finally, the dangerous task of mixing both Holy and Dark magic to form a spell powerful enough to force the Goddess into the body.

"What am I doing wrong?" Lezard whispered to himself. "I've done everything according to the Philosopher's Stone's orders, and am rewarded with nothing." He let out an enraged scream, grasping the homunculus by it's shoulders. He violently wrest it from the altar, slamming it onto the floor. He kicked it once, before sinking to his knees in despair, eyes seeming to see nothing. His vision blurring, Lezard bit his lip, refusing to give into the sobs his mood sought to force upon him. He tried to stop his quickening breaths, taking in air slowly and deeply, visualizing the Goddess in his head. Thinking of the Valkyrie---no, the All Mother as she was now known, always managed to help calm him down---slightly.

Soon Valkyrie, soon we will be together. He thought, and then let out a humorless laugh. He had long since realized that was not guaranteed. Why he might be an old man before he succeeded, the Goddess being unable to fall in love with a wrinkled old wizard, with snow colored hair...But that just means I have to work extra hard. He thought determinedly. If only the magic to do the summoning wasn't so draining on his reserves. Then he might have been able to attempt two rituals twice a day, or maybe even three!

He slowly stood up, hearing a door creak open. "Master...?" Came the slow, and slurred speech of his servant, a green skinned homunculus that looked like a small sized ogre. It wasn't the first one he had made, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "Clean this mess up." ordered Lezard, gesturing at his surroundings. "And dispose of this body, Zepher." His cape flared out behind him as he stalked towards the staircase. "It is useless to me now."

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Lenneth, former Valkyrie, now Goddess Supreme sat in the halls of Valhalla, hands clasped together before her as she sat on Odin's throne. Technically it was the seat of honor for the All Father, or in her case, All Mother, but she still had a hard time not associating it with the vanquished Lord Odin. Lenneth had never expected to be thrust into such an important position, unlike the other Gods she had not turned an envious eye upon the Ruler of all Gods and Goddesses. She had actually liked her position, seeking out souls to help make their transition from the world of flesh and blood, into the realm of souls. Being a Valkyrie meant she got to meet a rather interesting mixture of humans, and the hours were great. Sometimes she found herself longing for the long cold slumber Odin forced upon her, when he needed to make use of her older sister, Hrist.

She especially wanted to sleep when dealing with the interviews, and talks of problems between the various Gods. It had long since proven boring, not to mention tedious. Lenneth had never realized just how much Odin had to do on a daily basis, or how much he had depended on Freya. Grudgingly Lenneth had accepted her help with easing into the transition of rulership, not quite trusting the golden haired Goddess, for she had helped Odin keep a short leash on Lenneth's independence.

"Lady Lenneth!" The Goddess blinked her eyes, seeing the green clad Goddess of Fertility floating before her, hands on her hips. "We have been waiting on your ruling." Freya had a small scowl of impatience on her face. She didn't think it was proper for the All Mother to be zoning out during these important proceedings.

"Um..." Lenneth lowered her voice to a whisper, using some of her newly gained power to block all other's from hearing what she said next to Freya. "What ruling?"

"Oh Lenneth...you weren't paying attention AGAIN?" Freya held back a sigh of annoyance, a put upon expression on her lovely face. "Tyr and several of his Aesir are once more petitioning for war between Asgard and Nifleheim"

"Oh yes..." Lenneth said, with a roll of her eyes. "I am quite familiar with their arguments." Tyr the God of War and Bravery had been making monthly petitions every since Lenneth had taken up the throne. She sometimes wondered if that bravery was just a nice way to say he was headstrong and foolish.

"Tyr...I regretfully have to decline your petition." The need to tell him where he could stick his plans for war was at the tip of her tongue, and only the thought of hearing another lecture from Freya stifled the insults. Freya was always going on about how she needed to keep the Gods satisfied with her rule, for she needed them to support her right to the throne. "We are still recovering from Loki's treachery, and while the damage to Asgard has been repaired, our numbers are smaller." Aesir and God alike bowed their heads in respect for the fallen Gods of the recent war. "To engage Queen Hel's forces at this time would be disastrous. Our Einherjar

forces are only at one-third the strength they should be at."

"I see..." Tyr stroked his long red beard, his gray eyes thoughtful. Lenneth had phrased her answer so as to give the illusion she wanted to endorse this war, and would once their armies were returned to full strength. "I thank you gracious All Mother." He bowed his head, and his Aesir dropped down to their knees.

Lenneth gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, and the four men stood, and turned, leaving the throne room. She waited until the huge, stone double doors were closed shut before uttering a curse. "By Odin's eyes! When will he give up on this pointless battle!"

"I'm afraid you better get used to seeing Tyr's face on a regular basis." Freya floated down to perch on the steps of the dais. "He was always driving Odin insane with very similar requests. Once he gets what he wants, he will move on to new enemies."

"I see he really takes his position as War God to the extreme." Lenneth replied.

"Very true." Freya agreed. "It doesn't help that he spends his free time drinking. I shan't be surprised if after a night of non stop ale, he won't remember today's meeting. He'll probably be adding his name to the waiting list by tomorrow for the next available spot."

"Insufferable idiot!" Lenneth groused, eyes turning begging. "I plead with you to have mercy and tell him we are backlogged for several months!"

"Whatever my Goddess wishes, so shall it be done." The two shared a smile, and for a moment it was like nothing had ever happened to their friendship. The feeling of camaraderie lasted for several seconds more, before Lenneth turned her head away, clearing her throat nervously. "So who is next?" She asked, failing to see Freya's look of sadness.

"Oh...um..." Freya returned to the air, a scroll appearing in her hands. "It's the Goddess Frei..." Her green eyes widened in surprised.

"Your sister?" Lenneth asked. "What could she possible want?"

"I guess we will soon find out." Freya said, returning to an all business like manner. "Shall I admit her in?"

"Yes, please." Lenneth nodded, and with a flick of the Goddess' hands, the ceiling to floor length doors flew open. The young Goddess entered, her physical age appearing to be that of a 15 year old. She was clad in a light brown, tight fitting dress, the hemline ultra short and very revealing. Her arms had fingerless gloves on, that were rolled up all the way to her elbows, and matching boots covered her legs a few inches past her knees. A round hat was on her head, and her auburn-brown hair was tightly braided. For once she did not bounce into the room with her usual exuberance, instead seeming shy and nervous.

"Hello All Mother..." She spoke quietly, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. "Sister..."

"Hello Frei...My position may have changed since last we saw each other, but you do not need to address me with such formality." Lenneth told her with a gentle smile. "I still consider you like a sister to me."

"Well...I hope you will still feel that way once you hear why I have come." Frei would not meet the eyes of either Lenneth or Freya.

"Why is it you came?" Freya asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Well um...I came for a friend..." Frei hesitantly explained. "Or rather, I came WITH a friend..." And she turned to glance at someone lurking in the shadows of the doorway. That was his cue to enter, and the sound of slow footsteps hitting the floor alerted them to the fact it was not a God who was entering the Hall of Valhalla. Not that he was a stranger to the Gods in this room, Lenneth letting out a pleased cry of, "Lucian!" While Freya cried out an angry admonishment of, "Frei how could you?!"

"He really needed to see the All Mother!" Frei said, sounding defensive.

"You know mortals are not allowed in the throne room of Od---Lenneth!" snapped Freya, arms crossed over her chest. "You AND he, must both be punished!"

"It's all right Freya." Lenneth said, looking warmly at Lucian.

"All right?!" gasped the Fertility Goddess, whirling around to stare at Lenneth. "After what happened last time? After Lucian was the one who unwittingly helped Loki seize hold of the Dragon Orb?! Thereby making him indirectly responsible for the death of Lord Odin?!" Her words seethed with anger, hatred blazing in her eyes as she glared at the blonde haired man standing at the foot of the dais.

"Freya please." Lenneth held up a hand. "It's as you said, he did not know he was being deceived by Loki. Lucian is innocent of the crimes you accused him of."

"But..." She protested.

"Stop." Lenneth ordered. "I will not have another word spoken against Lucian in my presence. If you cannot stand to be in the same room with him, I suggest you leave!"

"Bah!!" Freya whirled around, blonde hair swishing about madly as she teleported out of the room.

Lenneth shook her head, the remaining two not being able to tell if it was from sadness or annoyance. Mustering a smile, she spoke to Frei. "This was a pleasant surprise Frei. I thank you."

Frei blushed. "I suppose you two want to be alone with each other."

"Yes, that would be nice." replied Lenneth.

"There's no fooling that girl." Lucian commented with a grin as the young Goddess teleported from the room. "So I take it you're not mad?"

"Hmmm...no...a little shocked perhaps, but not mad." She gestured, and the doors slammed shut, giving them total privacy. "In fact I was hoping for some respite from the tedious petitions I have to listen to."

"Well that's why I am here." Lucian said brightly. "To take you away from all of this!" He sobered, a touch of sadness in his blue eyes. "I also wanted to see you because I missed you."

"Oh Lucian..." Lenneth replied, feeling a twinge of guilt in her heart. "I've missed you too. I'm sorry I haven't been around, but my new duties have kept me busy. Not to mention all the lessons and All Mother etiquette Freya has been tutoring me in."

"I understand that...really I do..." Or at least he was trying to. Came Lucian's private thought. "But we haven't seen each other in weeks!"

"Really?! That long?" gasped Lenneth. It hadn't seem like much time had passed. More guilt flared in her heart, as she realized she had thought little to nothing about Lucian when she was away from him.

"Yes, time flies by when you're having fun." Lucian said, a sour expression on his face.

"I would hardly call the duties this position has given me fun." Lenneth retorted.

"Well then...would you be up to having some fun today?" asked Lucian. "Say...go on a picnic with me?"

"But I have too much work to do!" protested Lenneth, and then flushed at the heartbroken expression he gave her. "At least give me a few days notice...to cancel my appointments..."

"All right." Lucian would take what he could get. "But be sure to pencil in enough free time to last for several hours."

"I will." promised Lenneth, mind already ticking away over what Gods she could afford to put off for a few days.

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Lezard had fallen asleep in his study, an open book on his chest. Zepher had stopped in a while ago, easing the young man's feet up on the desk, removing his shoes. He propped a soft pillow behind his neck, and removed his glasses, trying to make Lezard as comfortable as he could. When he reached for the heavy tome, Lezard had let out an angry snort, clutching the book against his chest.

The wizard was in a deep sleep, sinking into the realm of dreams, where anything could and did happen. He found himself walking through thick, voluminous smoke, not being able to see anything past a few feet. Not that there was anything to see, the land was beret of any features, no trees or flowers, nor was there any touches of furniture to indicate he was inside someone's home.

He seemed to walk for hours, traversing the void without complaint. Call it a hunch, but he felt the answers he was searching for were near. So very near he could taste it, and feel the soft caresses he imagined his Goddess would give him.

Lezard. A female called out, her voice sultry and seductive. Lezard...come to me...seek me out.

"I will." He promised, walking faster.

Lezard, what are your desires? The voice asked. What to you strive for? The power of the Gods, or love?

"I..." He hesitated for a moment. What did he want more? The Goddess, or to be a God himself? He knew he didn't want the Valkyrie just because of her power. The power was only an added bonus, one that would prove useless if he ever got her in his clutches. He wanted her, desired her with every fiber of his being. "I want love!" He told the voice, his tone confident and strong.

Wise choice. Came the whispered answer. Your wish shall be granted.

Suddenly the ground melted away from him, and he was plunged into a dark hole it's drop seemingly endless. He let out one wild scream of panic after the other, and all the while the voice continued to laugh at him, cold and mocking.

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To Be Continued.