Valkyrie Profile: Souls of the Fallen

Disclaimer: Valkyrie Profile is not my own, though I desperately wish it was.

Chapter One: Fallen Swords

"What is this you speak off Silmeria?"

Odin, the All-Father . . . Lord of the Aesir sat upon his throne, Freya hovering idly to his right. The throne room was massively decorated and oversized, but it seemed to enhance the presence of the lord of the gods. The golden room encrusted with gems of all kinds colored the room like a rainbow as the sun shown through.

The lighting in the throne room was nothing like the tension and mood the three divine beings occupying were. The goddess of fertility was visibly trying to contain herself from unleashing her ether strike upon the goddess before them.

Said goddess stood stalk still, head hung low, showing only the crest atop her golden helm. The brightly shining long sword she bore stood like a pillar in the pure white stone floor before her feet. Drops of wetness hit the floor next to her feet, her silent tears echoed off the quiet chamber walls. In her sword hand, her right hand was a blade crafted in the lands of the elves. The edge was chipped and worn, its luster gone from the sun, and blade, hilt, and guard, were shattered.

The pieces could be seen around the throne chambers, flecks of red dotted the walls and a pool of blood could be seen across the room. Deep navy and cobalt blue robes dressed a lifeless figure; a sword similar to the shattered one in the goddess's hand lay on the floor to his left. The weapon had exploded, unable to bear the energy created from the blade lock with the two fighters.

"L-lord Odin . . . I . . . I cannot dismiss what he has said."

"Silmeria! Do you realize what that man has put into your head! He is a crafty one indeed to have you choose him and then try this!"

Freya glared menacingly at the corpse. The man had drawn swords against Odin! Not just any two blades either, but artifacts which had been gifted to him after a critical battle at the plains of Dumar to the west. It was a frightening revelation, an Einherjar attacking the All-Father!

Odin sat passively by, taking in the spectacle of the Valkyrie before him and the fight she had finished with her own hand. Recalling the battle to mind, he saw an incredible fury in his assailant's eyes mixed with sorrow. Was it that he didn't wish to fight Silmeria but thought it necessary? What was more disquieting was that Silmeria was nearly defeated, a 7th level goddess . . . by an Einherjar who had been bestowed the rank of 12th level god?

The thought of such power reminded him of his own bloodline . . . half-elven. To overcome the darkness of the first blade he wielded with the light of the second, they had lost a great former ally and destroyed a mighty enemy. Yet Silmeria was nearly lost to him, the roots of the swordsman's beliefs had obviously been ingrained into the gentlest of the three goddesses of fate.

The sword she had slain him with was the one now standing in the floor between them, the blood had drained from the sword, its ether coating leaving the sword shining brilliantly.

"Silmeria, I will speak with you later on in the day. Leave me."

The goddess nodded slowly before she left the chambers. Freya dissipated and reappeared before the body. Giving it one look that would kill any mortal man, she bent down to retrieve the sacred artifact when Odin's voice made her freeze in place.

"Do not touch that sword Freya. Come to my side."

The goddess of fertility did so silently, not exactly knowing why. Once beside him again, Odin's gaze fell on the man. He could see clearly why the man attacked without hesitation, but his power was what puzzled him.

"Tell me soldier, who are you, truly?"

As the words left his lips, the sacred treasure, Gugnir materialized in his right hand. Freya felt shivers run up her spine as she looked back to the body. For Odin to summon the legendary treasure, made the situation at hand extremely dangerous.

"Lord Odin . . . you can't mean that this mortal is . . . still alive!"

"Truly Odin, you really are amazing!"

The body shuddered before the left hand took the sword Freya had reached for in its grip. The swordsman stood to Freya's dreaded amazement.

"For those who have the guts and fortitude, they may survive the impossible. You must have seen how she did not commit to the fight All-Father. You're losing your influence."

The father of the gods sat stoically upon his throne, still trying to figure out how powerful this opponent was. Never before had any mortal survived a battle with a god or goddess, much less one which exemplified battle in its purest, cruelest form.

"How do command such power? I would know who and what you are before sentencing you to your judgment."

"I know now that I stand little chance against you Lord Odin, but I had to try; to test your own worth before Ragnarok with my own hands. Odin, I am . . ."

" . . . A fool! He's a fool to try and take on Lord Odin! What was he thinking?"

A sorcerer with glasses and robes of Bryttain sat on the Valhallan hillsides with Silmeria. He was one of the few of her Einherjar that could talk philosophy with her and not offend the gods. She sat, legs clenched to her chest, tears of silent suffering ran down her eyes. One of her own, one of her Einherjar, she had cut him down with her own hand. Her mind played over the fight continually.

She had been walking down the long hallway to meet with Freya about her usual report on her Einherjar. Just as they had met, Odin's surprised voice accompanied by her strongest warrior's battle cry and the sounds of his sword range through the air. Her own sword, the Favour, was in her hands as they broke through the doors.

They had been prepared to see Odin being protected and the Einherjar fighting off some assassin from Surt or Hel. The sight of Odin off his throne and close to the doors, her warrior's swords biting into the two sides of the throne had shaken them to the core.

Without a second to spare, Freya had phased into the air, preparing an ether attack. Her warrior jumped into the air, headlong at the goddess. Silmeria had leapt up into the air, flanking just behind him. Her peripheral vision let her see Odin reassuming the throne. Raising her sword to strike him, she kept her grip on the sword, wanting to strike with the flat and disable him in case things were not as they seemed.

Sword blade connected with sword blade and her eyes had widened with she saw the engravings on the blade he blocked her attack with. He glanced over his shoulder before blocking an ether reinforced slap from Freya with the flat of his other sword. The two goddesses pressed their strength in the two differing blade locks. Odin looked up upon them. It seemed like an airborne waltz, but he knew that this dance could end in a crescendo of blood.

With another piercing battle cry, he shifted his weight to his left and then back to his right, through the two goddesses off balance as they tried to compensate for his first movement. Continuing onward, he brought the swords around in a spiraling circular slash that appeared like a pirouette in the air from Odin's viewpoint, one sword held behind him and the other out in front as the goddesses were thrust away.

Freya disappeared again before reappearing in front of Odin, ready for the attacker's next attempt on her lord. Silmeria landed beside her as he reverse flipped, his body arced backward before landing in a dust filled crouch. He stood, completely confident in his skills and being.

Her eyes still focused on the swords by his side.

'Gram and Farewell at once? I knew he was going to be powerful, but not this strong! By the Fates, what have I done?'

"Thane . . . why . . . I entrusted you with many responsibilities and you have never failed me . . . so why this!"

Thane closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in thought as he set himself for another charge. Freya tensed as she prepared for another assault. Silmeria had felt her heart throb painfully at such blatant treachery. His eyes only half opened, the glare she had seen him give many of her enemies was now leveled at her. She had known then and there that she would have no choice but to kill him, or die trying.

"Because it is destiny, fate is far stronger than anyone of us . . . now come, let us fight Valkyrie!"

His words drove a dagger of ice through her being, and with that, the battle had begun.

"How . . ."

Silmeria's soft, shaking voice shook her mage from his thoughts on the hillside. She buried her face into her arms, golden hair cascading down her form.

"This just . . ."

" . . . Cannot be!"

Freya had ceased hovering and stood by Odin's side, the two were in a state of shock. Her words echoed off the throne room walls. How could an Einherjar know the things he had spoken? The details of Mimir's prophesy of Ragnarok and other things were only known by the most powerful of gods.

Naturally, the Einherjar also knew of their role in battle, but not of their deaths alongside Odin. Thane stood before them, stoically observing the gravely concerned gods. Odin found it troubling to see Freya look to him with an expression he never saw in her. Fear. True, Thane's words had struck him deeply, but there was time wasn't there? This strange twist of fate could and would be averted.

"Thane, if what you say is true, then what is it we shall do about this?"

"Pardon milord? 'We' you say? There is no 'WE' in this fate Odin. YOU shall fall and it will be due to your lack of watching over the Valkyries! Be wary of your actions, for they will affect all."

Thane howled in agony as a white hot flash rammed into his chest. The force of the blow carried him back to the grand doors. Opening against the force of the impact, he skidded several feet down the hallway; several guards and Einherjar leapt out of the way. He gasped for air as the wound sizzled and held the pungent scent of burning blood. His eyes were wide though he couldn't see anything through the dilated pupils as he went into shock. Freya's voice poured venomously as she floated nearer. Her hands glowed with ether, the essence of both creation and destruction. A dark crimson streak stretched from where he had hit the floor outside the doors to his prone form.

'Sister . . . is this what we receive because of our gift? Our insight? Damn them all . . . !'

Freya hovered just above his prone form; the others stayed back, but remained, desiring to know just why such a merciless thing was done to a fellow servant of Odin.

"Silence you blasphemer! You would dare say that Odin would lose!"

All eyes turned to Thane as the words left her lips. His only response was a wince of pain as he tried to smile. He knew what she was doing, warrior he may be, but he knew manipulation when he heard it. Oh, he knew it well; and he hated being manipulated.

"Thane?"

One of the Einherjar regarded the superior swordsman with distraught eyes. By the murmuring, he could tell all the Einherjar present were from Silmeria. He hated to do this to her, but he was left with no options, they would know the truth before Freya destroyed him out of false pretense.

"Mimir prophesied the death of Odin in Ragnarok and the death of all Einherjar with him. What I say is truth then . . . stop denying the inevitable!"

Another dazzling white explosion consumed the man as others watched on in shocked silence. Two of the archers, personal friends of Thane since their arrival with Valkyrie Silmeria, drew their bows. Each trained arrows on the goddess of fertility. The aesir took up arms against the two. The other Einherjar not knowing just what was transpiring backed further away.

"You dare draw on Lady Freya!"

The captain of the guard gave a stern glare at the two fletchers. One was Kennison, the other was Lillian, a brother and sister pair who had fallen against Hel's eye minions when they had ventured too close to one of her temples of the dead. They saw Thane as a friend and mentor, teaching them and learning from them at the same time. The three were equals and knew of his strict views on living life with honor.

Seeing Freya unleash her fury upon him for reasons unknown was enough for them to draw. Thane was not one to draw on an ally with concrete reason, for him to do so against Odin by sword or word meant something was terribly wrong. They would die with him, so was their oath to him, their sword oath.

"Does he know the truth and you wish to conceal such revelations!"

Jillia spoke bitterly, glancing down on her fallen friend. Kennison moved to check on the grievously injured Thane. As he came close to the body, a single shaft of thin light pierced him through the heart, his dying gasp barely audible. Lillian cried out in agony as the siblings crumbled to the floor.

'It is said that twins are bound together, sharing the same thread of life. So those that rebel together shall fall together.'

Freya's thoughts froze as she saw the other Einherjar behind the defeated trio draw their weapons. The only mage among them glared with a dark light in his eyes. His hands glowed with a sinisterly cold light.

'Curse him . . . just how much influence has he sown through the ranks?'

Completing a quick phrase and hand gesture, he lifted his hand to the sky and snapped his fingers as shards of splintering ice rained down on two of the aesir, killing them as the frozen magic pierced them from above. The hallways soon echoed of death afterward.

Soldiers and fellow Aesir gathered the next day at the spectacle in the grand audience chambers. Encased within massive crystalline coffins were the twins and Thane. Three other Einherjar joined them in their prisons of pure cold. One was a halberd soldier from the prestigious Salerno Academy. Named Kaze by one of the warriors from Hai Lan because of his sweeping strokes, the nickname had stuck and he hadn't minded it one bit.

One other woman among the frozen was a shield and sword fighter, her graceful style had earned her the title of Blade Dancer during her time still alive in Midgard. A warrior from the fallen kingdom of Amenti, her dark skin and deep black hair were sensual. The mage among the fallen was as the Raven Mac Auther, though Auther or Raven suited him just fine. He was known for being merciless in combat, selected the wounded and unwary as his targets, often producing overkill effects that would sicken even hardened war veterans. True to his name, his scavenger kills had cleared the battlefields of drawn out conflicts of attrition.

Of all those in attendance, only two were not present as Freya began speaking. One was Lord Odin, the other . . . Silmeria.