Notes: Woot another chapter is ready! Do try to forgive the delay, been bound to my work place for weeks *Cough* Months *Cough* now, and just hadn't had much time to actually write anything. Don't know when I'll be able to update again either since I'm going right back to the grind here soon, but I'll try my best to get something to you guys soon.
As always feel free to leave your thoughts and feedback in the review section. I always love hearing what you guys think.
Disclaimer: I do not own God of War.
Song of Storms and Sorrow Chapter 2
Atreus
"We, we made it! We actually made it!" I cheered as the relief washed over me and I collapsed to my knees.
After taking a moment to just breathe, and calm my nerves, I stared out over the colorful void that made up the space between realms. The vividly glowing branches of the world tree spreading out in all directions, as far as the eye could see. This place always had a pleasant view, but I'd never been so happy to see it before now.
"Aye, that we did lad. If only barely." Mimir chimed in.
Father grumbled. "We survived, but our enemies still haunt our step. From here on out we must be vigilant."
"Indeed, I also think it wise for us to keep moving. A moving target is always harder to hit as they say." Mimir suggested earning a nod of agreement from father.
"Speaking of which, where are we going from here?" I had to ask, because I really hadn't put much thought into what to do after escaping with our lives.
"We shall go to see the dwarves." Father declared.
When I heard my father say that I perked me up a little bit. I hadn't seen the dwarf brothers in quite some time and it'd be nice to catch up. "We're going to see Brok and Sindri!?" I asked excitedly.
Father gave a curt nod. "We could use supplies and our weapons are in need of repair." He explained as he unfolded his shield to show off the numerous cracks, scratches, and dents in the metal. Then he looked down at me and the weapons on my back. "Your bow is also cracked. It will not be reliable like that."
"Makes sense to me, those two might also have something to help with those wounds." Mimir declared while directing his gaze up at father's burnt and bloodied chest.
"I will be fine head. These wounds are nothing." Father shot back before he tensed his body, likely to channel some of his energy, and causing most of the small injuries to quickly disappear, though some still remained.
"I'm sure most of those will heal just fine, but many were caused by Mjölnir. I'm sure you know by now that it is no ordinary hammer. Even for a god like you, those wounds won't heal overnight." Mimir explained.
Father grumbled in annoyance but conceded Mimir's point. "Fine, then we should also find someplace to rest."
"Can't we just stay with Brok and Sindri?" I asked because I knew that Tyr's Temple would have more than enough room for them.
"No!" Father and Mimir said at the same time catching me off guard.
"What, why not!?" I inquired, feeling more than a little confused.
Father was the first to answer. "The gods are hunting us boy. We can't stay with the dwarves without putting them in danger."
"Oh, right! I guess that really wouldn't be a good idea!" I admitted before another realization came to me. "Hey, you actually do care about those two don't you?" I asked teasingly.
"They have their uses." Father said flatly.
"Sure, sure, whatever you say." I teased some more.
"No more talk, time is not on our side." Father declared before he made to move forward, stopping only momentarily to stare down at the blades on my back. I saw his hand twitch, and for a moment, I was sure he was going to take them from me, but he for some reason he didn't. Instead he spoke again, his tone cold and rigid. "Once, we get your bow repaired I will be taking those back. They're dangerous."
"Fine." I said, not seeing the point in arguing with him. He clearly wouldn't have it anyway, and I know for a fact, he was better with them.
"Good, now let us go." Was all he said before he began to march down the path and towards another portal which would lead us back into Midgard.
Kratos
Even as I took my first step back into Midgard leaving the battle with Thor far behind, I could still feel my hands twitching with agitation, while the subtle ache in my wounds continued to grow.
I can't recall the last time I had felt this uneasy. Perhaps I had felt something akin to this when Ares and Zeus had first sought to betray me, but those were far more jarring. This feeling was more subtle, but the dread was there. Like a lingering shadow just out of sight.
Perhaps it was due to the distance I felt from the gods in this place. I did not care what they thought of me, and I had no interest in playing their games, but I also knew I could not ignore this. They were after the boy, my son, and I will not lose him. I can't lose another.
I had always hoped to spare Atreus from this curse that has followed me for so long, but it seems the past just won't stay buried.
With these thoughts plaguing my mind, I found my eyes drawn down towards the blades hanging from Atreus' back. Again, when I saw them, I felt the urge to separate those accursed things from the boy, just as I had every time before.
Those blades were wicked, and as evil as the monster who bestowed them upon me. They represented everything I use to be, and everything I wished to leave behind. So again I found myself pondering why I brought them with me. Why couldn't I just leave them behind like I had everything else?
Of course I already knew the answer. I kept the blades because they were necessary, because one day I'd need their power, just as I did when the boy fell ill and again when Thor had attacked our home. If Atreus hadn't taken up the blades, we might've both fallen to the god of thunder.
The thought sickened me, and the only comfort I had was the fact that this arrangement would only be temporary. Atreus won't have to suffer like I had, at least not for as long. For now I can do nothing about it, nor do I have time to dwell on such things at the moment. So I forced down all of my doubts, all of my frustrations, and tried to focus on the path head.
Now, finally allowing my eyes to wonder, I found that we had arrived in Sindri's camp near the base of the mountain. It was the same one we had first met the dwarf three years ago, and while it now sat empty and buried in several feet of snow, not much else seemed to have change since our last visit here.
"Hey this is Sindri's old shop!" Atreus' declared, no doubt making the same observations as I, before his expression became more contemplative. "Hmm, but Sindri isn't here. In fact it doesn't look like anyone's been here in a while."
"No it does not seem so." I agreed with a nod.
"Why didn't we just portal straight to Tyr's Temple? That seems like our best bet for finding Brok and Sindri doesn't it?" Atreus questioned.
"Hmm," It was a valid question so I needed a moment to consider it. It wasn't really a conscious decision to come here, it was merely the first place I'd thought of when opening the portal, but it was a convenient one given its close proximity to the Lake of the Nine.
Even if it would be a bit of a walk, it would take no longer than a day to reach the temple. There was one factor that still concerned me. "The gods hunt us now boy, they will expect us to make for the temple. I think it best we approach from the outside. That way, if they lay in ambush, we shall be better able to make a retreat."
"Oh, I get it! That way Brok and Sindri won't get caught in the middle either!" Atreus exclaimed.
"Yes, that too." I agreed, though it hadn't really been part of my reasoning, I supposed it was true.
"So, we make for the temple brothers?" Mimir chimed in.
"You almost sound excited Mimir, you looking forward to seeing the Dwarf brothers again?" Atreus asked.
Mimir scoffed. "Excited to get out of this cold more like."
That remark earned a raised eyebrow from both Atreus and I. "I thought you didn't feel the cold?" Atreus retorted.
"I don't, but not everyone is resilient as you two, and I don't have all that warm blood running through my veins. Seriously, I think my lips are trying to freeze shut every time I stop moving them." Mimir explained, his tone somewhere between joking, and deathly serious.
"Doesn't seem like such a bad thing if you ask me." I declared bluntly earning an angry grumble from the head.
"Alright, alright, I guess we should get moving." Atreus declared while trying and failing to suppress a laugh. "Right?" He asked turning to me for conformation.
I gave a nod in return and began the march towards the Lake of the Nine. The trail ahead, much like the camp before it, was about the same as I remembered it. Though trekking through knee deep snow certainly made the journey a bit more difficult.
Snowfall was common place to these lands, but three continues years of winter can make any snow covered landscape look more akin to a tropical paradise. As a result these last three years have been especially harsh.
Almost nothing living can thrive in these frozen wastes anymore. So the boy and I have spent almost everyday out in the wilds searching for game to hunt, while setting up traps, and gathering nuts and berries. During the nights, most of our time is spent chopping firewood, and maintaining the hearth.
Even with all our efforts, it still only feels like we're just scraping by. I fear if it weren't for this other worldly constitution that our godhood grants us, we would've both succumb to the elements by now. To make matters worse, the draugr have been appearing more and more frequently, and in greater numbers.
It was almost as if the gates of Helheim had been thrown open, and the souls of the dead were now spilling over into Midgard. An idea that sounds crazy to most, but I'd seen something similar happen back in Greece, and I'd already seen enough of Helheim to know something was a miss in the underworld.
I could only hope that what ever was happening to this world was simply a sign of change, and not the beginning of the end.
"Father, draugr!" I heard Atreus call pulling my mind away from the past and back into the present.
"Where boy?" I asked as I carefully began to take in my surroundings and reached around my back to draw the Leviathan.
"Over there! Do you see them!?" Atreus declared while pointing towards a cluster of trees just off the main path.
The trees were clustered close together and the sky was overcast making it difficult to make out much. After a moment of silence I tried to squint, and focus my eyes. It was subtle, but it was there, figures moving in the darkness, each with tiny pinpricks of red where eyes should be.
The unholy creatures must've realized they'd been noticed, because a sickening screech echoed from within the woods, right before a small horde of shambling abominations sprang forth. A rough count told me there was about fifteen in total. It was a large number, but nothing that we couldn't deal with.
"You ready boy?" I asked my son as I glanced down to look at him.
Atreus gave a grim nod, before quickly drawing is bow, then pausing to look down at the weapon's cracked frame. With a sign he shouldered his bow once again, reached over his back, and he drew forth the Blades of Chaos. The wicked blades beginning to admit an unsettlingly familiar glow the moment he gripped them.
"I'm ready." Atreus replied.
Again I was stricken by how odd the sight of the boy holding those blades felt. So much so, that I had to grit my teeth to ignore it. I couldn't let myself be distracted, not with the enemy right in front of me.
"Good, now do not falter!" I roared as I charged forward to meet our enemies head on.
The first draugr to enter my sights was a thin and lanky thing. In its right hand it held an old rusted short sword, and in its left it gripped a round wooden shield that showed extensive signs of rot. However despite the poor condition of its armaments, the undead creature seemed confident of its chances.
I suppose that if the draugr were against a mortal man, one using earthly weapons, this might very well be a fair fight. Unfortunately for this tainted creature, I was no mortal man, nor was my Leviathan of human make.
One swing of my axe was all it took to shatter the draugr's sword and rip off the limb that had held it from the draugr's body. Now disarmed both metaphorically and literally, the draugr tried to hobble back and raise its shield to defend itself. Then with one final swing of the Leviathan, I splintered the rotten shield and carved deep enough into creature's core to practically split it in half.
The unholy creature's death wail was as loud as it was short lived. For the moment after my axe reached the center of its mass, the steel head turned unnaturally cold. It was so cold in fact that it froze the draugr's body solid almost instantly, and then all it took was ripping the axe free to shatter the creature's frozen body.
My second foe would fair no better. This draugr tried to attack me from a distance, summoning a ball of fire in the palm of its hand, and hurling it in my general direction. The fireball was not particularly large, only a little larger than my fist. So for a moment I considered blocking it with my shield, but that was still damaged, and I didn't wish to repeat my last opponent's mistake. So instead I side stepped the fireball, brought up my axe, and flung toward my attacker.
My aim rang true and the draugr soon found the Leviathan imbedded into its decaying skull, not only knocking it off its feet, but also freezing it to the ground a second later. Needless to say, the draugr was down, but being an undead creature made them hard to kill by nature. So even slicing into one's skull doesn't always assure a kill, but with it locked in place by the ice, it would no longer be a threat.
With that enemy dealt with, I quickly turned my attention to another draugr quickly approaching me. This draugr was far larger than the last two, and wielded something akin to a great-axe or a halberd. It had its large weapon held high above its head, and it was primed to come down on top of me.
I, on the other hand, had no weapon available to defend with. So I was forced to evade by rolling under the swing and coming back up right behind the abomination. Meanwhile having put too much strength behind the blow, the draugr began to stumble forward giving me the chance to drive my foot into the creature's back sending it toppling over.
It was just in time for Atreus to appear. He having already dealt with a few draugr of his own, decided to take advantage of my enemy's vulnerable state. With the Blades of Chaos in hand, the boy fell upon my downed foe.
Atreus screamed like a banshee as he stabbed and slashed at the draugr's back relentlessly, the display not unlike what I had seen with the Troll on our first hunt. The large draugr wailed and thrashed about, but failed to dislodge its furious attacker before he reached its neck, and jammed both blades straight through, severing the head.
"Careful boy, remember what I told you about your anger." I warned.
"Y-yeah," Atreus replied, his voice strained, and his breathing heavy. "Don't worry, I got this." He looked past me and shouted, "Father, behind you!"
I, of course, had heard the draugr approaching. There were two, one coming from behind, and another from my flank. Reaching out behind me, I called back my axe, causing the weapon to rip itself free from its frozen prey and fly back to me hand. As planned the weapon came in fast and low, sweeping the feet out from under my nearest enemy.
Then I spun on my heels to swing my axe at my second foe. To my surprise however, the blade struck something hard, bouncing back slightly. When I turned to face my opponent fully, I saw that their body was covered in a thick layer of dark blue ice. However as the small crack in frozen armor suggested, this was no natural ice.
This ice I recognized from my time in Helheim. It had certain magical properties that mirrored my own Leviathan, not only making the ice near unbreakable, but also it rendered my weapon's icy touch practically useless.
Grumbling in annoyance I called out to my son. "Boy, the blades!"
Atreus looked over at the frozen draugr and quickly figured out what he needed to do. "I'm on it!" He replied as he rushed over.
The draugr seeming to have no interest in Atreus, screeched as it lunged for me, perhaps in an attempt to claw out my throat, as this draugr had come unarmed. Dodging back, I used my axe to bat the icy limbs aside before placing my foot on the draugr's chest, and kicking it back towards my son.
As the frozen draugr stumbled, it soon found fiery blades embedded in its shoulders, causing the creature to wail and thrash. Its anger was hard to miss, but its struggle was ultimately fruitless. Now mounted on the creature's back, it didn't take the young god more than five seconds to twist the blades and rip them free. The action cut deep gorges in the creature's chest, and caused its arms to fall limp at its sides.
Then without missing a beat, Atreus drove one of the blades straight up through the back of the draugr's neck, piercing out through its mouth. The other blade came down a moment later, slicing through the top of the skull, and with the extra leverage, the young god was able to twist the blades again ripping the creature's head right off.
"Well done boy." I declared. If only because I felt like I should say something.
"Yeah, thanks." The boy said in return while wiping some soot from his face. Then he sighed as he turned his gaze towards the remaining foes. "There is still more though, lately it feels like they never end."
"In a way they don't. That is their nature." I explained before pointing out a few more of ice coated enemies in the crowd. "Atreus, they're your quarry, I shall handle the rest."
"Alright," Atreus said, sounding like he didn't quite understand my explanation, but likely not wanting to argue. "I got this!" With that he was dashing off into the fray once again, and I was close behind him.
Atreus
It only took us a few more minutes to clean up what remained of the draugr. As menacing as they still looked, I'd grown a lot stronger over these last three years, and they just weren't much of a challenge anymore.
It also helped that I had father's blades at my side. Without my bow I was a little worried that I'd be useless, but these things tore through flesh and bone like a dragon's maw. Complete with flames so hot that they can turn thick armor plating into a puddle of molten soup in seconds.
The blades were clearly magical in nature, but this magic felt completely alien to me. Sure it was easy to see where Brok and Sindri had made some improvements, but I could tell this wasn't all their handiwork. Made me wonder who or what could've forged the blades and for what purpose? Were they made specifically for my father? Also what were these even made out of? It was no metal I was familiar with, though my knowledge of such things was still fairly limited.
Perhaps I could ask the dwarf brothers about it when we arrived. They were master blacksmiths, and had work on these, so surely they'd know more. That is of course if father even allows them to tell me.
Even now as father and I passed through the small cave system between Sindri's camp and the realm tower nearest the temple bridge, he continued to stare at the blades. He is wary of them, that much is clear. For what reason I do not know, and I doubt he will tell me. It must have something to do with me though. He never acted like this when he was the one using them.
Does father think I can't handle them? Not unlikely, he does tend to worry about such things. So the real question is should this change in his attitude worry me? Perhaps, which means I'll need to stay sharp until I can figure out why.
"Look, the gates. We're nearly there." Father announced as we entered the tower proper and came before a set of huge metal doors, that for whatever reason were depicting six human men locked in an intense game of tug of war.
"Finally, a warm forge sounds nice about now." I said in response.
Father gave a nod of agreement before stepping forward to jam his hands in between the two colossal doors, and force them apart. "Come boy." He urged. Seeing my opening for what it was, I rushed under my father's arms allowing him to step forward, and let the doors slam shut behind us.
Then there it was, the Lake of the Nine. It had been so long since I had last laid eyes on it, I had to stop for a moment just to take it all in.
Everything thing is about the same, yet some how very different. The nine realm towers were all right where I expected them to be, the Temple of Tyr was still in tact, and the pedestal where Thor's statue once stood, was still empty.
However only now, everything was painted in white and grey. The thick layers of snow obscuring most of the land mass around the temple. Meanwhile Tyr's Temple itself and the bridge leading up to it were both mostly still clear. This was most likely the work of its current inhabitance.
Brok and Sindri were technically running a business, so I suppose it wouldn't do if nobody could get to them to buy their wears. Though, I'd never actually seen anyone other than us visit them here. Then again, we did buy something just about every time we came by, so I guess it all works out somehow.
Moving further down the bridge, I decided to steal a glance over the side, down towards the water below, or rather the ice. The entire lake had actually frozen over. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised in that regard. This cold was otherworldly and could practically freeze your piss mid stream, so what chance did a stagnate body of water have?
Though there was one thing that did bother me. There was no sign of Jörmungandr. Every time we'd come here in the past, the World Serpent had be somewhere near by, near of course being a relative term given the massive size of the snake.
"Where do you think Jörmungandr is father?" I asked.
"I do not know." Father answered curtly, not even bothering to look around. "Perhaps the snake is simply resting under the water's surface."
"Hmm maybe, but the water level is so low." I thought allowed while still staring down over the frozen lake. "If I recall correctly, the World Serpent was doing that the first time we came here. Back then the water was so displaced it nearly covered the whole temple."
"Hmm, I see your point." Father said as his expression shifted to one of contemplation.
"Maybe he just found someplace a bit warmer to bed down." Mimir chimed in. "He is cold blooded don't you know?"
"Y-yeah, I guess that makes sense. It is still kind of weird not being able to see him around here." I said trying to keep the nervousness from my voice.
Clearly it didn't work, because Mimir spoke again, only this time in a much more hushed tone so only I could hear it. "Is everything alright lad? You sound off."
"I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right." I replied as I pushed away from the bridges edge, and continued to move towards the temple.
A moment later when I drew near the temple doors, I began to hear the sound of voices coming form within. While I couldn't make out what was being said, the voices were loud, and at least one of them was shouting.
"What is going on?" Father asked from a few feet behind me.
"I, I'm not sure." I replied uncertainly.
I could vaguely make out the voices of Brok and Sindri coming from within, but it sounded like somebody else was in there too. It didn't quite sound like a fight was going on inside, but they didn't sound too happy either.
Was something going on? Were the dwarf brothers in trouble!? If so we needed to get in there and fast!
With that thought in mind I turned back to my father to say as much, but before I could get a word out, one of the voices became louder, and clearer. "Fine, if you two won't stop swapping sp-spit," The voice stumbled sounding disgusted. "I'm going to go find my peace somewhere that's sanitary!"
A moment later and the temple doors were suddenly thrown open, and a disgruntled dwarf in gilded plate armor stormed out. It was Sindri, and he was in such a huff he completely failed to notice me as he marched past, and nearly ran straight into father.
Luckily father is about as hard to miss as the World Serpent and Sindri snapped right back into reality when he laid his eyes on him. "Oh Kratos, it's been awhile!"
"Dwarf." Father greeted with a nod.
"How is the kid?" Sindri asked looking around father to see if I was behind him.
"He's doing great! Thanks for asking!" I declare from behind him, causing Sindri to jump a little, and stare back at me with his eyes wide.
"Whoa Atreus, you gave me a fright!" Sindri said with a nervous laugh, before he glanced down at my waist noticing the head strapped to it. "Ah and Mimir too huh, I see that you're still 'hanging' in there."
"Hardy har, good to see you haven't changed much either." Mimir retorted not unkindly.
Ignoring Mimir, Sindri took a moment to chuckle at his own joke before clapping his hands together addressing us once again. "So what brings you guys down here today?"
Father seemed pleased to get straight to business and raised his arm to unfold his shield and show off its damage. "My shield and the boy's bow are in need of repairs."
To help father out, I drew forth my bow, and raised it up for Sindri's inspection.
Sindri's eyes narrowed as he reached up to run his hand across the surface of the shield, humming thoughtfully as he inspected the numerous cracks and dings across its surface. Seeming to have his fill after finding a small bloodstain on the bottom of the shield, he quickly pooled away, whipped his hand on his pants, and reached down to take up hold of my bow and held it up before him.
"Wow, something really did a number on these. I'm guessing you guys got yourself into another tight spot?" Sindri asked earning a nod from my father. "I see, well my brother and I could certainly fix them up for you, but…" Sindri paused before glancing back towards the temple doors he came out from. "I don't think now is really the best time."
"We heard the shouting. Is everything alright?" I asked. "I really hope you and your brother aren't fighting again."
"Oh, no it isn't that bad." Sindri was quick to dismiss. "Brok just has a 'lady' friend over." He said, speaking the word lady like it was an insult.
Wait really!? I was quite surprised to hear something like that, I mean Brok had his stories, but I'd never actually saw him spending any time with anyone. Though by the sounds of it, Sindri didn't wasn't to pleased with this development. So feeling curious, I had to ask. "And is that a problem?"
"Yes!" Sindri howled in response. "They're being so loud, and she keeps mocking me, and they won't stop doing things in front of me!" He complained loudly.
Well that was a reaction, but it didn't really tell me much, so I pressed on. "What kind of things?"
"Horrible things kid, things I can't even speak of!" Sindri declared while beginning to make gagging sounds. "Trust me Atreus, y-you really don't want to see what they're doing in there!"
"Virgin." Mimir jabbed earning an indignant grunt from Sindri.
"I do not care dwarf. Our business is urgent." Father declared as he stepped past Sindri and made to push open the doors.
When the doors were thrown open once again, the dwarven brother's forge was revealed. Peeking past my father, I could see that the shop was about the same as the last time we'd been, but a few things had been rearranged. One of the workbenches had been cleared of tools and moved to the center of the room, where it was now flanked by three wooden chairs, and it was covered with plates of food, cutlery, and mugs of what I could only assume was alcohol.
Two of the chairs stood empty, but in the third I caught sight of a stout blue skinned man that I instantly recognize. It was the second of the two dwarf brothers Brok. However he wasn't alone, there sat awkwardly in his lap, was a tall dark haired woman that was I'd never seen before.
The pair was quite the sight to behold. Even while sitting, it was clear that the woman in Brok's lap had to be nearly twice his size, perhaps even as tall as farther is, and she was dressed in jet black armor of an unusual design.
The armor was about as ornate as Sindri's, but the thick metal plates and the runic etchings across its surface, made it clear that it was forged with battle in mind. It also covered most of her form, all the way from her toes up to her neck. About the only thing that had been left exposed were her hands and her head, and likely only because both were currently occupied.
With one hand the woman held a mug up to her lips and she drank from it greedily. Meanwhile she kept the other hand locked around Brok's back, perhaps for stability given her awkward position, but it was clear by the way she moved her fingers that it wasn't her only intention.
"Ah, dwarven wine really is the best!" The woman declared as she downed what was left in her mug and slammed it down on the workbench. "Another Broky, I want another!"
"Shit and spit Hel, you trying to fucking drink me out of hearth and home!?" Brok shot back, sounding more amused than annoyed. "You know I run a forge, not a fucking tavern?"
Brok's blunt declaration only caused the woman in brake out in laughter. "Oh hush Broky, this is only my sixth, and I haven't been able to come out and have fun like this in so long! Please don't tell me you want us to spend this precious time together being sober!?" The way the woman said it, made it sound like the very idea was ridiculous.
"Course not Hel!" Brok shot back. "I was just thinking if we don't pace ourselves now we'll run out booze before nightfall. How're we going to keep our buzz going then?"
"Dwarf." Father called out, either not sensing the mood between the two obvious lovers, or more likely just not caring. "I am in need of your services."
Hearing dad's voice, Brok's expression became stiff, and his face slowly turned towards the door. Then the moment his eyes met father's his expression quickly went through a wide range of emotions. Surprise, was certainly among them, but the others were far less defined. However, there was one emotion there that was both unmistakable, and very worrying, and that emotion was fear.
"K-kratos! Brok sputtered before suddenly trying to get to his feet, but finding it impossible while the larger woman had him pinned under her weight. Realizing he couldn't get up he began to look back and forth between father and his lover.
Noticing Brok's panic, the woman in question slowly turned around in his lap to look towards the door, eventually meeting my father's gaze. Despite my father's natural ability to intimidate, the woman seemed strangely unconcerned. In fact as she finally stood up and brushed some of her long bangs aside, she looked more annoyed than anything else.
"Well, well, so he actually came. Well I guess the All-father's insight hasn't fled him quite yet." The woman mused before releasing a deep sigh and reaching across the workbench to take hold of what looked like a large, and rather ornate winged spear. Now with a weapon in hand she began to step towards us.
As woman quickly drew closer I was finally able to get a good look at her face, and almost immediately after seeing it, I felt the uneasy from before all flooding back.
The first thing I noticed about the woman's face was that half of it was badly marred. Most of her skin was a sickly pale color, while parts of her right side were redder and covered in vein like scars. It almost looked like her right side had been burned off, and if the black eye patch was anything to go by, her right eye had not been spared either. As for her good eye, it was a dark shade of green, and its gaze was so piercing that it felt like she was staring directly into my very soul.
Mimir seeming to recognize the woman suddenly spoke up, his voice panicked. "On guard lads, she's aesir!"
With that declaration father quickly had his hand on the hilt of his axe and I followed suit grabbing hold of my blades. "Who is this dwarf?!" Father questioned.
With some of the shock wearing off and him now realizing that he had been freed, Brok sprang to his feet, and quickly rush over to stand between father and the woman we now knew was a god. "Whoa, whoa hold on a damn minute! No violence in my fucking forge!" He shouted more towards the woman father.
The woman only looked amused as she reached up to run her hand over Brok's cheek. "Sorry Broky, but duty calls. I swear as soon as I deal with these two, me and you can pick up right where we left off." Then with that said, she lightly pushed the dwarf aside causing him to stumble and fall on his ass.
With Brok out of the way, the woman gave her winged spear a quick spin before she quickly fell into something that resembled a fighting stance. "Shall we get this over with?"
"Answer me dwarf! Who is this woman!?" Father demanded as he readied himself for an attack. However Brok seemed too shell-shocked by the situation to offer any sort of proper response.
It was Mimir that finally gave us the answers we needed. "She is Hel Kratos, mother of the dead, and the Goddess of Helheim. By my beard brother, Odin must be truly desperate if he's called upon her for help."
Hel, thee Hel!? First the God of Thunder and the Goddess of the Dead in the same day! Just how bad could our luck be? Not good I'd wager.
Hel, like Thor, and all the other gods that resided in Asgard, I'd heard many stories about her exploits. However, she was always somewhat of an oddity among them. For most of the stories I've heard about the gods, at least tried to paint them as heroes, and our just rulers.
Hel on the other hand was different. Her stories never had a happy ending.
Almost as if sensing my thoughts I suddenly found Hel's eyes on me, and she smiled wickedly as she looked down at me and the head hanging from my waist. "Hey there Mimir, I heard you were out in about again, how nice that must be for you." She said almost spitefully before taking on a slightly quizzical as she looked us up and down. "Hmm, though you look a bit different since the last time I saw you. Did you get a haircut?"
