Garuda vs. Tyr
Snow blanketed Tyr's shoulders as he trudged across the mighty mountains of the Eastern lands. The wind rushed through his ears, making it nearly impossible to perceive anything. His eyes stung from where snowflakes had struck. Tyr had attempted to command the skies to settle, but the unforgiving, harsh gales remained deafeningly silent. He was glad he was covered in so many furs, gifts from his most famous hunts. These unfamiliar winds chilled him to the bone. Tyr had no idea why his current quarry traveled so far from the homeland, but he was certain of one thing: that when he tracked down the great beast, he would give it a great thrashing.
Over the course of the next hour or so, Tyr found that the snowfall was waning. His footfalls became silenced as the crunchy, white powder gave way to hard, dry soil. In the distance, he could spy small cities on the horizon of the dry tundra. He never trekked this far into foreign lands; he never saw the need to explore when his people needed him back in the homeland. The thought of traversing unfamiliar terrain and possibly conquering them never quite appealed to him, though he knew Thor would have killed to be in this unknown landscape right now.
His right arm itched, especially where his hand used to be. Knowing what this sensation usually brought, Tyr instinctively ducked low to the ground, just in time to see two giant fangs arc just inches above his skull. He quickly drew his sword, nervously adjusting his grip as the great serpent thrashed about on the ground, trying to regain its bearings after failing to strike the Norse god. While the scaly creature still fought to roll onto its stomach, Tyr studied its physical appearance. Its gunmetal grey scales clinked loudly against each other with each frenzied undulation; yellow eyes stared unforgivingly; its frustrated hisses filled the god's ears to the brim, allowing no other sound to penetrate Tyr's senses. Finally, the serpent coiled itself up in a massive, clanking spiral and eyed its foe intently.
"You have traveled far to pursue me, Norseman," the reptile lisped. Its black, shiny tongue flicked surreptitiously in and out. "But your efforts have all been in vain."
Tyr leveled his sword at the beast, finally parting his frost-coated lips to growl menacingly. "I'll ask you one final time," he said, taking care to inject venom into each syllable, "Tell me where your master is hiding, and I'll grant you a swift death."
The serpent gave a short, haughty laugh, and Tyr knew that was the only answer he was going to get. Not allowing the beast any more time to prepare itself, he hurled himself into the air, using the weight of his broadsword to send him rocketing towards the earth. The serpent was taken aback for a moment, but was able to avoid the downward slash just in the nick of time. Tyr slammed into the arid ground, sending a cloud of dust reeling into the air, covering both him and the serpent. Tyr used the dust to conceal his movement, maneuvering himself behind the snake. When he was out of its line of sight, Tyr plunged his sword into the snake's tail, cementing it in the rocky earth. The serpent let loose a harsh hiss of anguish, and Tyr launched himself once again, mercilessly clamping down his fist on the snake's throat, never yielding while it struggled wildly. He punched the snake in the face with his stump, forcing it to lay still. Tyr held his face inches from the beast's and snarled, "Now, tell me what I want to know. Where is it? Where is the World Serpent?"
The snake parted its maw, and a few unintelligible gasps escaped. Tyr slightly lessened his grip, and the reptile covetously gulped in fresh air. "Very well," it hoarsely whispered. "My master is lurk-"
The snake's reply was cut off as Tyr suddenly felt him and the snake being lifted off the ground. The god of war felt the snake's scaly skin slip from his hand, and the wind howled through his ears as the ground rushed up to meet him. Taking control of his body, he flipped himself around and managed to land on his feet, sinking to his knees with the force of the fall. As he rose to his feet, he saw what had interrupted his interrogation. Nested on a nearby outcropping of dull stone, rested a massive bird. Its brilliant, golden breast plumage caught the setting sun's final rays, and its crimson wings bloodied the sky with its richness. A snow-white-feathered face looked down at the serpent, which was trapped in one of its talons. Pouring forth from the being, only visible to Tyr's transcendent sight, was a fiery, smothering aura; just gazing upon the auburn flames that formed a hurricane around the bird made Tyr begin to swelter; undoubtedly this being was a Deity.
The radiant, almost-regal bird clicked its beak once, then bent down, intending to bite off the snake's head in one clean movement. Tyr could not believe it. After days of tracking that serpent through a blistering blizzard, he was going to be thwarted by a bird? Uh-uh. That was not going to happen. Tyr sprinted towards the outcropping, hell-bent on plucking every single feather from that bird's face and turning it into a holiday roast.
Garuda looked at the serpent, the yellow in its eyes betraying its forthcoming fear to the god. He clicked his beak once, giving thanks to the snake for its gift of nourishment, then placed its head in his mouth. He had just begun to ponder what a snake was doing on the edges of his territory when several yells caught his attention. His head snapped up to gaze upon the source of the disturbance. Standing below, on the dry ground of the tundra, was a grizzled man. His broad shoulders were draped in coats of bear furs, and chain mail clinked underneath steel plate armor, which was carved with ancient, artful swirls. Garuda noticed that the man's right hand was missing. His storm-grey eyes glared at the bird-god, solid and unyielding as a mountain. His platinum-blonde beard was plaited in a simple braid, secured with silver jewelry. But there was more to this peculiar individual than simply his battle regalia. Roaring from his weathered form, particularly the space his right hand used to occupy, was an aura unlike any Garuda had seen. The power that dissipated into the air was painted with abysmal reds and glacial blues, and left a sour tang of iron in his mouth; but this cryptic presence had the force of a blizzard, and sent a wintry shock up his spine. Doubtlessly this man was a Deity, unlike any other that the Lord of Birds had ever encountered before. Garuda knew he would have to be cautious with this individual.
"Explain what the hell you think you're doing with my quarry, or, by Odin's beard, you will taste the cold steel of my sword!" the man shouted. It was obvious that he was referring to the snake that Garuda clutched possessively in his razor-sharp talons.
"I was about to have my evening meal, if you must know," Garuda replied in his soft, but powerful voice, nonchalantly, as if the outlander's threat was nothing but an innocent question. "May I have the pleasure of knowing who you are, stranger?"
The warrior, his chest swelling with pride, beat his breastplate with his fist. "I am Tyr, Norse god of war, the sky, and heroic glory! Son of Odin, vanquisher of great beasts, nemesis of the White Wolf Fenrir!"
Garuda had heard of the Norse Deities before. Great, proud, honorable warriors, whose king wielded unspeakable power. And this one was god of the skies in his pantheon? This strange man, this Tyr, had piqued Garuda's curiosity. Perhaps he could indulge this guest in his lands for a bit, to gauge his powers. After all, the Lord of Birds reasoned, he had not had the pleasure of a good fight in quite a long while.
"Rudra! Sukirthi!" Garuda called out. Within seconds, his two winged wives flew to his sides. Beautiful and loyal wives they were, with hair of silky black and eyes of luscious chocolate brown.
Rudra addressed her husband first: "Dear husband, Shiva called just a few minutes earlier," she said, holding up her iPhone 5. "He said that he's in a really bad part of the Underworld, and he needs a ride home."
"And Vishnu wants to know what you're doing Friday night," Sukirthi joined in, "said something about drift racing in Tokyo. He seemed really excited about it."
Garuda covered his head with his wing, trying desperately to fend off an oncoming headache and muttering softly. His grimace was present for only a split-second, then replaced by his abundant smile. "Tell Shiva that I'm busy right now, and Vishnu that I'll consider it," he instructed his wives. " Cancel all of my plans for tonight. If anyone else calls, tell them I'm indisposed."
"Yes, dear husband," the two chorused.
Tyr wasn't sure what was going on. One minute, the bird Deity was asking for his name, and the next, he was talking to two young, beautiful women. Finally, after waiting impatiently for minutes, the two handmaidens disappeared, and the bird finally turned its attention back to Tyr.
"Forgive me, Norseman," the bird apologized. "I don't think we have been properly introduced. I am Garuda, Lord of Birds, god of the skies, mount of Shiva, nemesis of serpents!" With the final word, Garuda flourished his wings, covering himself in an infernal nimbus; so brilliant Tyr had to shield his eyes.
"Such power," Tyr could not help but mutter. As the lights died down, the Norse god looked again upon the Hindu god, and gasped. Instead of a bird, Garuda had taken the form of a man. His golden, rippling skin betrayed the formidable muscles that lie beneath, and was covered in glowing tattoos of tribal nature; hair of the purest white tumbled over his chiseled, smooth face, nearly obfuscating irises of charcoal black; though much had changed, he retained his blood-red wings, and his feet were still sheathed in razor-sharp talons. The serpent, now growing restless, still sat writhing in Garuda's grip. Tyr noticed the Deity's elegant sash, made from the finest silk, no doubt. His wrists, neck, waist, and arms were decorated in jewelry made from snakes, trophies of his greatest conquests.
"Tell me, Lord of Birds, what is it that you want?" Tyr questioned the Deity, now observing a look of innocuous excitement in his eyes.
"Simple," Garuda replied, transferring the squirming serpent to his arm, transforming it into a silver, jade-inlaid armband with a simple touch. "I wish to fight you. I wish to test my strength against that of the Norse Sky God."
"And why should I accept your challenge? I am content with remaining within my own pantheon."
"Perhaps. But what of the serpent, the one you were pursuing when we met?" Garuda fiddled with his newest piece of jewelry. "You were attempting to extract information from it. Something about an earth serpent?"
"The World Serpent," Tyr corrected. "And yes, I was. What of it?"
"Well, if you win, not only will I acknowledge you as the superior Deity, I will also relinquish the serpent to you, to deal with at your discretion." Garuda held out his open right hand, and an electric blue tulwar fell from the sky, coming to rest in his palm. "But…" he paused, leaving Tyr to wonder if was going to continue.
"But…?" the Norseman urged.
"If I win, I will keep the serpent as my prize. You will still glean the location of this World Serpent, rest assured, but the trophy will remain with me." Garuda readied his sword, balancing its hilt in his right hand, with the other raised in a prayer-like pose. "So? Will you accept my challenge?"
For the longest time, Tyr just stood there, never breaking off the intense stare that he held. Garuda was beginning to worry when, without warning, the Norse god broke out into an uproarious laughter, shaking the very stones on the ground with his mirth. "Very well, Lord of Birds! I will accept!" Tyr adjusted the straps of his shield, and drew his broadsword, letting his legs drift slightly apart and putting weight on the balls of his feet. He knew this stance all too well. "But, one final question. Why will you still allow me to know the World Serpent's whereabouts?"
Garuda smiled warmly. "Snakes are my mortal enemies. I will feel better knowing that other gods, in addition to myself, are doling out righteous punishment to them."
Tyr returned Garuda's smile with a hearty grin. "Alright then." He leveled his sword to his foe. "Shall we?"
Garuda mimicked his foe's action, both foes moving ever closer to each other, initiating the ancient dance of battle. The tips of their swords clanged. Then, with a flourish, the bird god began his attack. With a mighty swoosh, Garuda rushed Tyr, the azure tip of his tulwar nearly severing Tyr's beard, until the blade met the dull edge of the Norseman's shield, stopping the attack cold. But Garuda's recovery was lightning-quick, and was already poised for his next attack. The tulwar waved a mesmerizing trail of bright blue in the air, and danced before Tyr's stormy eyes. Mortal men would have been entranced by this deadly display, but Tyr's hyper-aware mind would not be swayed. With a savage cry, he interrupted the sword's singing with the wolfish roar of his broadsword, redirecting Garuda's uppercut, making room for him to bash the Hindu with his shield. The Deity stumbled back a step or two, and Tyr began his counterattack. What his broadsword lacked in speed was made up in strength one-hundredfold, and all its force was aimed at his opponent's chest in a backhand slice. Normally, the Lord of Birds would have easily dodged the simple attack, but Tyr's shield-bash had clouded his reflex, so it was a alarming surprise when Garuda felt the tip of Norse steel tear across his chest. The smell of ichor dispersed the quagmire in his mind, and Garuda backpedaled full-force, until he was a full fifty yards from Tyr. The Hindu glanced down at his chest; a five-inch long cut across his picturesque skin. Silver blood trickled viscously down his breast. He felt a bruise developing on his brow as well.
The Lord of Birds felt the molten gush of pain travel to his brain, and he grimaced slightly. Then, as the pain subsided, it was replaced by an abundance of energy, a blazing furnace of ecstasy. It had been ages since any being had managed to inflict injury on him, and now he reveled in the unfamiliar sensation. He took this cruelly pleasurable feeling and transformed it into an engrossed determination, walking back to his foe.
"Do you know why I use a tulwar, Norseman?" the Lord of Birds inquired.
"I haven't the faintest idea, Hindu," he replied. "Why?"
"Because I can wield it with one hand," he explained as he flourished it between his left and right hands. "Or…" both hands came to grip the ornate hilt. "I can wield it with two." With the last word, he slashed the air in front of him, sending a sharp blade of wind cutting towards Tyr, a strike that, even though he blocked it with his shield, still drove him back half a meter. Then, with a ferocious beat of his wings, Garuda launched himself the full fifty yards, charging full-force at Tyr. At the moment of impact Garuda unleashed another wind-blade from the tulwar, nearly cutting himself in the process. His unrestrained strike had sent up a massive cloud of dust, and his mind was wrought with fright and excitement. Then, as anxiety danced on the razor's edge with confusion, Tyr's cold hand clamped down on Garuda's left wing, single-minded to rend it from Garuda's body.
"Feel the burn of my ice, Hindu!" Tyr spat, his cold-blue ichor splattering on Garuda's golden visage. Then, the Lord of Birds went completely frozen. His wing felt as though it was encased in a glacial abyss, unable to move it even in the slightest degree. Garuda, surprising even himself, contorted his face into a bestial snarl. "Let go!" he violently growled. With all his strength, he reached his arms out and seized Tyr's fist in a vise-like grip. He tightened and tightened, until he thought his arms would shake themselves out of their sockets. Then, just as he thought his strength was beginning to wane, he felt the sickeningly satisfying crunch. Garuda had ground Tyr's knuckles to dust.
Tyr let out a bitter howl, and leapt away before Garuda's fury boiled over any more. Tyr wasn't sure what happened. Garuda's lighthearted smile had been torn away, replaced by a razor-toothed sneer. His charcoal-black, excruciating gaze was purely abyssal, Tyr could have sworn he saw Garm's primal stare reflected in them.
Tyr looked himself over while Garuda seethed in infernal fury. His only hand was broken; his right arm had been dislocated, jarred out of its socket thanks to the Hindu's wind-blade strike; he was certain the blunt force of all of those gusts of wind had ruptured a few of his internal organs; even now his mouth filled with the iron tang of his lifeblood. If he didn't do something quick, his defeat at the hands of this Deity would be certain. Making sure Garuda didn't resume his vicious onslaught, Tyr began to gather up energy, hoping he would have enough time…
Garuda's mind was afire with wrath. "How dare he!" His harsh, guttural, nearly incomprehensible cries echoed across his enraged soul. "He dares to touch me?! He dares to lay his hands upon the almighty Garuda?! Ruler of the Skies! Lord of Birds! Nemesis of Serpents! Mount of…" his frenzy halted for a half-second. "Shiva… forgive me!" Garuda recognized his own anger, and grappled for control and peace within himself. As he struggled to regain his sanity and inner peace, he could feel Tyr gathering power. "Shiva, give me strength," he found himself muttering. Finally, when Garuda was confident enough of his self-control, he allowed himself to rise out of his subconscious mind. He felt like he'd been hit by a mountain, his headache was so great. His nose was bleeding, and his arms burned with reckless fatigue. His wing was cramping, and he was sure some of the ligaments were severed. Forcing his eyes to focus, he glimpsed Tyr, his gaze trained on his own arm.
"Forgive me, Norseman," Garuda's voice came out as a syrupy croak. "I allowed my mind to be clouded by rage."
Tyr leveled his gaze at the Hindu. "It is all right, Lord of Birds," he replied blearily. "It was not my place to attempt to take away your wings. I ask also of your forgiveness."
"Accepted. What is it you are doing?"
"Mending the most excruciating of my injuries, Hindu. I suggest you do the same if you wish to continue."
Garuda gave a short, dry laugh. "You won't win that easily, Norseman."
Tyr returned the laugh with a wispy chuckle. "I hoped so. Now, prepare yourself."
"Very well," Garuda replied. He extended his mind, calling out to his subjects, to the birds of the sky. "Brothers! Please lend me your strength," He urged them. Sure enough, he could feel as comets of energy flowed into him from across the atmosphere. Already, many of his wounds were blanketed in the warm heat of healing. He could feel the migraine clearing and the ligaments in his wing mending. Still, after the healing had ended Garuda felt so drained. "This might just be the death of me," he muttered to himself. But the thought only brought a wider grin than ever before. "Finally, a challenge!" Garuda screeched, the sheer thrill of his own uncertainty ringing across the mountainside. Refocused, Garuda flew straight into the heavens, intent to crush the Norseman with all of his strength.
Adrenaline. Mercilessly tearing through Tyr's veins. All the healing he had performed on himself had drained too much of his strength, leaving him burnt out. But the fight was far from over. Now his foe had launched himself into the sky, his crimson wings buffeting Tyr with hurricane-force winds.
"Two can play at that game, Hindu!" Tyr shouted, and summoned the cold gales of the North to carry him into the great expanse. Gathering the last dregs of his inner energies, he directed the power out of the stump of his right arm, letting his deific essence become a glacial bloodstorm around him, orbiting his being as if he were his own celestial body. Before long, the Norseman had caught up to his golden-skinned foe, and focused a typhoon of pure destruction to unleash upon the Hindu that flew above.
Garuda felt a chilling breeze at his back, and his heart froze. "Don't tell me he can fly as well!" he said out loud. "He doesn't even have wings!" But, sure enough, Garuda heard the savage roar of Tyr's colossal blizzard aimed at him. Twisting in mid-flight, he shielded his body and face with his wings, then curled his body into a ball, eventually halting his climb. He felt his stomach rise to his throat, and the air was suddenly dragging at Garuda, desperately attempting to slow his fall to Earth. And the Hindu smiled as he saw the Norseman through the gaps of his wings. "You may have the power of cold, but I have elemental energies of my own!" He ignited the charcoal of his eyes, and his entire body erupted into an infernally red flame. The Lord of Birds had become a fiery meteor, falling to collide with the Norse maelstrom hurtling to meet him. Both warriors tensed themselves. "This is going to hurt," they both thought collectively.
As the universe witnessed, a blood-red comet collided with a glacial hurricane, and the explosion was visible across the entire continent. Farmers from the other side of the country erupted into anxious chatter, wondering if the gods had been angered, and if the people were going to soon feel their wrath.
All was pain. And not just subdued pain that Garuda felt when Shiva was being an asshole, but legit, fucking PAIN. It literally aggrieved him just to open his eyes, and his entire body responded by unleashing a spasm of utter agony. With great effort, the Lord of Birds forced himself to his trembling knees, shaking a colossal amount of snow and ice from his frostbitten wings. All around him, he saw nothing but fire and ice. The ground had either been bathed in magma or blanketed in ice, no single patch of brown dirt remained uncovered for miles.
"By all that is holy…" Garuda gasped.
"You could say that again…" a voice behind him agreed. Garuda turned to behold Tyr, lying in a heap of snow. The god of war looked positively awful: much of his hair was burnt off, a portion of his beard being the only thing that remained; his left arm was gone, leaving only the arm with the stump; and the amount of third-degree burns was nearly unfathomable.
"Well, that was certainly fun," the Norseman wheezed, the effort of even a grin sending him reeling with pain. "Looks like I've lost, Hindu."
"It would appear that way, Norseman," the Lord of Birds replied. A look of genuine concern crossed his visage. "Are you okay?"
Tyr laughed, spewing up a small pool of blood, and Garuda had his answer. "What do you think? My arm is gone, and I've nearly been burnt to death." Tyr's eyes hardened. "You might as well finish the job."
Garuda's jaw nearly went slack. "N-No! I couldn't bring myself to kill another Deity!"
Tyr's frosty stare persisted. "Either you give me an honorable death by your own hand, or you leave and I die dishonored, denying my entrance to Valhalla. Would you be willing to live with that burden, Hindu? Would you condemn a man to eternal damnation because of your hesitation?" Tyr's voice was barely a whisper, but to Garuda, it was practically a desperate scream.
Garuda sighed. The choice to him was clear, no matter how much he hated it. "Very well," he finally mustered. "I will honor you with a warrior's death, Tyr, God of War. I will send you to Valhalla with the force of my full power!" With this final declaration, Garuda ignited himself in crimson flames, transforming into a bird once again, and rocketed high into the stratosphere.
"Thank you, Garuda, Lord of Birds," Tyr whispered.
The strain on Garuda's body was almost too great to bear, but he forced himself to climb ever higher, until nothing surrounded him, not even the clouds. He could see Tyr perfectly: a fallen warrior, wounded and dying, but still proud and fearless to the end. "May you find peace, friend." Garuda stretched his wings, farther and farther until they spanned the entire globe, poised to strike.
And with a silent swoosh, he beat his wings.
From all across the planet, the wind was felt. Typhoons sprang out of nothing in the Mediterranean. Blizzards covered entire towns in Siberia. Tornados took away chunks of skyscrapers in North America. And, in that barren valley in the East, mountains were razed to the ground, covering the Norse god of war in a fitting grave.
Garuda, now back in his human form, floated down back to Earth, coming to rest in the crater where ice and magma were just beginning to flow together.
"Rest in peace, Norseman," he muttered. Then, suddenly, he furiously grabbed the jade armlet and snapped his fingers. The serpent reverted to its animated form. It attempted to hiss, but its warning was immediately cut off by Garuda's unmerciful grip on its throat.
"Tell me, foul wyrm," Garuda growled through clenched teeth and hot tears, "Where is the World Serpent?"
ANALYSIS
After all my research was said and done, I ultimately determined Garuda as the winner of this bout. Although Tyr is the god of war and is the master of all known forms of weaponry and combat, I deemed that Garuda's sheer force of power and martial prowess were superior. I mean, even from birth, Garuda's infernal energy caused the Hindu gods to tremble in fear. And Garuda's only a lesser god by deific standards. But seriously, Tyr is no pushover either. He is ultra-strong, fast, agile, and durable. He is renowned for his legendary wisdom and courage. He can even release pure destructive energy from his arm stump! However, Garuda's wingspan alone stretches 13,200 miles and his wing flaps can level mountains and dry up seas. In order to tie these two together and create conflict between them, I added the serpent because it is the enemy of both Garuda and the Norsemen. One might think, "Why didn't the two team up on the serpent?" The answer is simple: pride. As for the end, I figured Garuda would feel remorse over killing Tyr. His only desire was to test his mettle against the Norse god, but, when the time came, he ultimately decided to honor Tyr's final wish. I know that there will be a few of you who say, "Wait a minute, isn't Tyr fated to die by the hands of Garm, the guard-dog of Hel in Norse mythology?" To which I respond, "How do you know he's dead?"
To those of you reading on , thank you for your time. If you wish to see more stories like this one, go to , type in the phrase "Deity Deathmatch" into the search box, and you're there. Reviews and comments are much appreciated.