The Awakening

Snow crunched beneath his hooves as Baphomet hurried across a snowy field. Cania was perhaps the most pleasant realm in Niflheim, an icy wasteland filled with glaciers and snow-filled valleys. Today the weather was clear, though the sky above was filled with white clouds stretching from the horizon on his left to behind one of the many nameless mountains on his right. The sky was never clear in Niflheim. He found himself wondering not for the first time what Garm was doing in such a place, she was usually to be found in the pits of Maladomini where the souls of the damned were tormented.

Ever since she had been born Garm had been drawn to pain and suffering, as a pup she was soothed to sleep by the cries of anguish that rose from that abyss of Niflheim, and as she grew older she was often the perpetrator of those cries. Garm had never been interested in the politics and subtle deceptions of the nobility. Truth was found in agony. She had tormented them, breaking each mortal one by one, moving to another as soon as the last stopped responding to her games. Until recently he mused, about 200 years ago Garm had returned from her expedition to Midgard with the soul of a young human boy, she had never seemed so excited before. She had spent the last 2 centuries with that boy, rarely emerging and always returning to him, pushing him to his limit then pulling back to allow him time to prepare himself for her next game. However, several days ago the boy's screams of anguish stopped and Garm left Maladomini for good. Baphomet had recently been informed that she had been seen at the place of her birth in Cania and so he found himself hurrying across the snow to reach her. To tell her the news.

After a few more hours he found himself at the foot of a glacier that had been split in two vertically. The mountain had given birth to Fenrir who had later returned to birth her litter of pups, Garm had devoured her siblings and only she and her mother had returned from this place. After a brief look down the crevice Baphomet concluded that his source was mistaken and turned to leave, then hesitated as he noticed the figure of a human woman sit in the snow he had previously failed to notice, Garm was in her human form, again.

Garm did not stir as Baphomet approached, he soon neared enough for her to hear his massive hooves crunching through the snow but she had known from his scent that he approached long before she could hear him.

"Garm" his deep voice rumbled behind her like thunder. "What are you doing here of all places? Surely you aren't feeling remorse for your lost siblings."

She did not dignify his question or statement with a response. Idle chatter had never interested her, when people spoke people lied, her pets were always honest with her in their anguish but she gained nothing from conversing with the likes of daemons. Baphomet's scent changed to one of awkwardness as he changed the subject.

"The day has come Garm, Ragnarok is here at last! The Aesir and Vanir are in conflict again and this time Queen Hel has chosen to attack Asgard. The arrogant so-called Gods will finally be put in their place and we will be free to act on Midgard without restraint!"

That didn't interest her either. At one point the thought of roaming free on Midgard, playing with all the humans who had yet to experience real fear would've thrilled her, but now the thought seemed hollow. There was only one she wanted now and he was beyond her reach forever. She could smell the goat daemon's anticipation was changing to one of confusion. After several moments Baphomet left without another word. Garm felt relief as she heard the crashing sound of his hoofsteps fade into the distance, she had come to this place to die alone and the last thing she wanted was to be bothered by a fool like him. Baphomet had decided some 400 years ago that she would be his mate, though he was over 50,000 years old and she a mere 2,000. His decision had drawn criticism to him, even more so since she had rejected his advances. Baphomet was apparently not concerned by this, 2,000 years to him was like a mere 20 years to her and he simply chose to believe that she was playing hard to get, so conceited was he that he couldn't understand that any woman might truly reject him. She had found that he was less persistent when she was in her human form and had changed when she picked up his scent, or so she told herself, though she found herself spending more time in her human form recently than could be passed off as practical.

She would've jumped in alarm as she suddenly heard Hel's voice behind her but the ancient sorceress had long since demonstrated her ability to hide her scent, and other ways of detecting her that Garm had long since grown accustomed to it.

"Have you calmed down yet my pet?" Hel's husky voice had the motherly tone in it she reserved only for Garm whom she had taken a liking to when Fenrir had brought Garm before her 2,000 years ago.

"I was always calm Mother, my decision comes not from anger but from the lack of feeling I am experiencing." She replied.

She had expected Hel to scold her, to tell her how melodramatic she was being, to demand that she come to her sense. But Hel remained silent and soon she found herself breaking that silence.

"Master Wylfred won't do anything Mother, I tried leaving him alone, I tried offering him hope, I even eventually tried playing with him again in case it was just an act but he won't do anything." She said as she rushed to describe her feelings. She thought back on all her old pets, the ones she had deliberately broken, the ones she had tried pushing as far as she could to see what the exact amount they could suffer was before they broke, they never recovered, it seemed like a light in them simply went out, never to burn again. Perhaps if she returned him to the cycle of rebirth then she could try to catch him again when he was reborn anew, but that might not be for thousands of years and how would she find him among the millions of humans that inhabited Midgard?

She felt Hel wrap her arms around her comfortingly as she knelt down behind her and stroked her lilac hair gently.

"There may not be anything we can do for the boy as he is right now, but I have found another way for you to have him back." She spoke beside her ear. "My recent experiment with the plume had an unexpected result."

Wylfred was in darkness. He was not falling or flying, or even floating, those descriptions all required that there be some kind of force in the darkness, but the darkness was the absence of anything except himself, and all was still within it, 'all' amounting to only himself. He waited for the pain to come but nothing came. He had been in the darkness for so long, was it weeks? Months? Millennia? There was no time in the darkness and he could not trust his senses, though he felt ancient. He thought about how he came to be in the darkness.

He had been bereaved.

"It is a sign. The battle maiden takes him in her keeping. He has been made einherjar, minion of the gods."

He had been embittered.

"Curse you battle maiden! It was you who killed my daughter! You who sent this fate!"

He had been slain.

"Hear my pledge O Gods! Take ye this flesh of mine, that it should restore life to this body of Wylfred's."

He had been tainted.

"I... I'm not ready to die! Not like this! I... I want to live!" "Why...Wyl?"

He had become a monster.

"Think you I would relinquish it so easily? The power wrought of blood and tears by which you shall be slain."

And he had been betrayed.

He had been cast down into the darkness to await his torment. But it had never come. There was him, and there was darkness, but there was no pain. He wondered again if his punishment was to be tormented by guilt from his memories but dismissed it again, he felt no guilt, he had sacrificed his heart to forge the angel slayer and become a force of reckoning, and now that he had lost his vengeance he felt nothing.

Then it came. He screamed as his entire being was invaded by all the pain he had wrought, and all of the pain ever wrought upon mankind. He felt the fabric of his being violated in every possible way and then it suddenly cut off and he became aware that only a few seconds had passed. A few seconds of exposure to all the sins committed by mankind, was this to be his fate? He suddenly realised that he was naïve when he thought his existence had become nothing, he felt something now, he felt fear and dread.

He thought he could hear a voice. It was a woman's voice, mature but darkly seductive, he couldn't make out what she was saying. Then there was silence for a while. He tried to call out to her but could not force energy into his jaw. Wait, jaw? In the darkness he had had no body, he had lost the right to have a body when he had been condemned to the depths of Niflheim, why had he been given it back now? Could it be that he could not be tormented by them without a body?

He tried to move his limbs and little by little found his strength recovering until he was able to open his eyes.

"Ah, she has awakened" said the voice.

He remembered that voice now, the voice that had deceived him, that had corrupted him. He turned his head towards Hel and tried to force a look of defiance onto his face, he imagined it must've looked pretty weak.

"So you are awake I see, can you tell me your name?"

He tried to speak but could barely pry his lips apart.

Hel smiled gently, an expression which did not reach her eyes as she spoke again, "Your strength will return to you soon, for now simply listen. I am your creator, I am all that is right in the universe and you exist to help me spread my influence across it. In doing so you will find fulfilment."

Did she think he was a fool? That he would so easily forget how she had misled him, twisted him into the monster he had become? The rational part of him tried to tell him he should hold his temper, that Hel was no fool and she was clearly mistaken, that he should manipulate the situation to his benefit but he was unable to hold back his rage and it came out in a torrential flood of curses.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP YOU DECEITFUL BITCH, YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD EVER SERVE YOU AGAIN? AFTER YOU MADE ME KILL MY FRIEND AND BETRAY MY COMRADES AND CRUSHED MY HOPES OF RETRIBUTION! CURSE YOU INTO THE FIRY DEPTHS OF MUSPELHEIM! WHEN I GET FRE-"

Hel's face until that point had remained impassive despite his outburst, then suddenly she raised one thin eyebrow and disappeared in a flash of russet light, leaving a pentagram lattice spinning slowly upon the ground where she had been standing, cutting his angry rant short. Inside he raged but was unable to move to find something to vent his fury on. As he lay there seething with rage his anger slowly ebbed away and he came to realise how foolish that had been. But she had at least been frightened away, or had left to find someone to help her control him, he should take the opportunity to flee now if he could. He tried to force movement into his numb limbs which twitched against some kind of restraints. He could not lift his head to see what held him down but was able to turn his head to the side to see that he was lying on top of one of many tables in some kind of sanctum. The white stone walls were draped with crimson curtains held up by chains made of a red metal he didn't recognise. The curtains framed windows, or maybe mirrors behind which were other worlds. One in particular he recognised as the throne room of Artolia, the view appearing to be looking from the ceiling downwards created a disorienting effect. Turning his head farther down to the floor he saw it was covered in identical square stone slabs, all as clean as the rest of the room. Wherever he was it was no 'abyss of Niflheim'.

Before he could consider his next course of action Hel was suddenly before him, Ailyth stood by her side as the lattice faded away. He felt the anger rise in him, he had trusted her to aid him in his quest for vengeance, only to find that she had been manipulating him from the start. As she had described her betrayal, how she had manipulated the kingdom of Artolia and created a war that destroyed so many lives and homes she had seemed only smug and pleased with herself. This time he supressed his rage, he would need to stay quiet for now and seize any opportunity that presented itself, he could not hope to fight in his current condition even if he had the plume.

Hel voice suddenly broke his frantic train of thought, "I am pleased to see you have calmed down now boy. I will excuse your previous outburst as I can understand you must be under great pressure right now, but make no mistake, you will not be excused a second time."

She waited as if for him to respond and he stared back impassively, resolved not to reply until he had decided on a clear plan to deceive her into releasing him. After several moments she spoke again.

"I was not expecting you to recover your sense of self identity so quickly, your soul is stronger than I had expected, you are indeed worthy of the task I have set for you."

She paused for a few moments and then continued.

"You will become my servant, you will aid me by going to Midgard, recovering the souls of mortals and returning them here to me. They will be... einherjar. Their power will be used by the forces of Niflheim to ensure our victory in Ragnarok and the overthrow of the order. Ailyth will accompany you and act as your advisor, and should you serve me faithfully for one year then you will officially become my general of rank 3rd with all the rights that come with such a position."

She looked towards him expectantly and when he did not respond it was Ailyth who spoke next.

"Do not worry Master Wylfred, this is not like the covenant of the plume. That was a contract whereby you sold yourself to Hel in exchange for vengeance whereas this time you are being offered what you might call citizenship and prestige in exchange for a show of obedience. Mistress Hel may be cruel to enemies and mortals alike, but you are no longer a mortal, and she is kind to those who serve her faithfully."

It was clear to him that his previous outburst had cost him the initiative and he saw no need to continue his charade of silence. But he could see an opportunity and decided to take it. It would require some careful negotiating, he could not appear too eager lest she suspect him of treachery but he could not be too harsh in his rejection. He was not willing to find out whether there really would be no second chances.

"If what you say is true-", wait, something was wrong with his voice, his voice sounded softer and higher pitched than before, it was a voice he recognised. He suddenly struggled against his restraints and fell from the table with surprise as they were lifted with a mere nod from Hel. As he tumbled he put his slender hands forward to break his fall and felt the breath driven from his lungs as he hit the white stone floor, silver hair falling over his face. Silver with a hint of blue.

Ailyth spoke again in a careful voice, "Please do not be alarmed Master Wylfred, your previous body has long since degraded and was nonetheless unsuitable for your task. Mistress Hel has gifted you with a new, better, immortal body to serve her and fulfil your task."

But Wylfred was not listening, Wylfred knew what they had done, he could feel Hel smiling, he could sense the Valkyrie sneering, could hear his father who had defended the murderer laughing, could hear the mocking cheers of his comrades who had been taken as einherjar dogs. As the laughter and cheers filled her mind, Wylfred Valkyrie screamed in indignant rage.