Dalkr walked calmly down a street in Washington DC, ominous grey clouds obscuring the blue sky. Many humans on the street with him were scurrying around, trying to finish up their errands or make their way home before it rained. Not a single one of them recognized him as Dalkr the Cadet Killer of Asgard. All he had needed to do was break into a hotel room, take a hot shower, and change his clothes using the supplies in the room littered with brown longneck bottles that stank of alcohol. There hadn't been a human to kill, but that was a minor disappointment at best.
In the past, one could walk around with a sword on your side and it would be considered normal, but now Dalkr had to put an invisibility weave over it. He actually didn't know how to speak the human language of this nation, there being an innumerable amount on Earth while other realms had just one united language, so he kept quiet and relayed on a translator charm to translate their words into Allspeak. A pair of sunglasses he had taken from the room hid the yellow of his eyes so he didn't have to waste magic. It was all so terribly easy, laughingly so.
Currently he was on his way to find a second cadet to kill. Where there was one cadet, Dalkr knew there would have to be another. He needed their blood for his ritual, and currently had just one of the five lifebloods necessary to complete it.
Loki had stopped him from obtaining the lifeblood of the fifth cadet back on Asgard, but he didn't know Dalkr was here this time. These humans had no concept of magic – didn't even believe it existed – so Dalkr had nothing to fear. The Marauder Dalkr had stopped earlier had told him Loki and Angborn were on Midgard, something Dalkr actually looked forward to proving. Once his ritual was complete he'd be able to kill them both and many more, and of course, the threat of the civilian lives would bring Loki running to him as he attempted to stop him.
Dalkr chuckled and tucked his hands into the pockets of the black flight jacket he had stolen from the closet to avoid resting a hand on the pommel of his invisible sword. That would draw some strange looks and he was trying to keep a low profile. He was thinking about this, and wasn't paying attention to the path in front of him.
He bumped into a woman with long-black hair pulled back in a low ponytail accidently, and Dalkr glanced at her crossly. She glanced at him as well, flint grey eyes flashing in irritation at being interrupted, and the two looked at each other for a second. Neither said anything as they recognized each other. Dalkr and Nira just looked at each other in equal surprise, each wondering what the other was doing on Midgard.
Nira recovered first, having more extensive training, and she said with a polite smile, "excuse me sir."
Dalkr wasn't sure what she was doing here, but she evidently had plans of her own just as he did. Interfering with her would hamper his efforts, and as long as she didn't try to stop him then Dalkr had no feud with Nira. He tipped his head in acknowledgment and the two carried on their way.
Nira was a great deal more excited than Dalkr about their brief confrontation, and it was almost impossible for her to suppress her triumphant grin. She knew that Dalkr was a black cell member, and his escape excited her. Chthon had told her about freeing the black cell members he had groomed to cause havoc and give Thanos, the mortal he "served" under the alias The Other, an opening to topple the realms. Thanos had an opening already, but he had failed at New York so this would be his second chance.
She remembered the first night after she had killed her mother and other sister and failed to take the crown by her father and Asgard. Her two younger siblings, Vör, now queen, and Hogun, her only brother, had survived with her father. Nira's claim had been ruined, and she had been forced to flee.
Chthon had spoken to Nira that first night after Nira, exhausted from fleeing, finally collapsed into sleep. He had said he was impressed by her skill and determination, and two had gone over and around talking about the day's events and Nira's thoughts. She had been jovial to find that Chthon agreed in Nira's drastic actions.
He had offered that if she helped him for a time and helped him then he could present her with Vanaheim's crown and a Chitauri Legion to serve her as her own army. She wasn't sure what to do, aware that she would be hunted down, so she had accepted. His interference had saved her life, and once she spoke to him, decided it might be fun to serve under him as his general.
Nira smiled at Chthon's promise that he would start Ragnarök, and afterwards Nira would rule the realms under his discretion. She would be queen of not just Vanaheim, but of all the realms. It was tantalizing beyond belief.
Ragnarök was known as the "Twilight of the Gods" in Norse mythology, and it signaled the Germanic equivalent of the Apocalypse and Armageddon. Unlike common myths though, Ragnarök would be brought about by the Chitauri. They were the ones who would destroy everything and rebuild it under their command. Nira wondered idly why the Chitauri were so fixated on ruling the Nine Realms, but supposed they had a good reason for it, whatever it was.
Ragnarök was initially supposed to happen shortly after Loki had murdered his cousin Baldur with a mistletoe arrow and been trapped in a black cell for his crime. Nira had been minutes from retrieving Loki and bringing him to Chthon until the Raven Blades proved Baldur had been planning to kill Thor – thus Loki had killed his murderous cousin to save his brother. Baldur's plan had been to pin Thor's death on Loki, and would have gone from third in line for the throne to first. He had even blinded his younger brother Hodr to ensure he would be Asgard's only heir in the end, and thus the next Allfather.
After a month shackled in the black cell with the venom of a basilisk dripping on him, Loki had been pardoned. She would have brought him to the Chitauri and he would have returned besides Nira as the Chitauri's general to destroy the realms, but their first plan at enacting Ragnarök had been thwarted. Nira had been infuriated, but had bided her time as Chthon advised her to do over the centuries. Nira had put her faith in him and carried out his duty, causing mayhem and raising strife and mistrust between the realms so they would not help each other.
After centuries, they had been ready to try Ragnarök again. 30 years ago, shortly after the end of the First Celestial War, Nira had taken a more direct approach and taken control of the weakened and war-torn Asgard. Asgard was going to be used as a base for the Chitauri to start Ragnarök and Loki brought to the Chitauri then, but Tilaria had stopped her this time. The blood mage had overwhelmed Nira's rune magic long enough for Loki to slip free and her to be driven off. Thus ended the Chitauri's second attempt to take control.
The third attempt last year after Loki had fallen from Bifrost had been more successful. With Tilaria gone and the Raven Blades on Vanaheim dealing with Nira during Thor's failed coronation, Loki had done exactly what he was supposed to do. He had pledged himself to the Chitauri and New York had been invaded. The Chitauri would have used New York as their foothold to begin Ragnarök, their triumph.
But the plan had been stopped by Loki's own sabotage and the Avengers he had allowed to defeat him. Chthon had told her not to worry too much and that he had another plan. The black cell prisoners, like Dalkr, had been magically and genetically augmented into supersoldiers. Their release and the subsequent chaos would be the opening for Ragnarök, and Dalkr was free. They were no longer quite mortal, and hadn't aged since their incarceration, but gotten younger and fitter so they were the same age as Loki or Thor. Reverse aging was no longer a mythical magic.
Nira understood her assignment here on Midgard better now. Chthon couldn't leave Chitauri Space freely so he needed her to carry out the final details of Ragnarök. This time they would surely be successful. After all, Loki and the realms would have to stop them every time, but the Chitauri only had to succeed once. She wasn't far from getting her crown.
With the new knowledge, her steps lightened. Working with pesky alien hate groups like the Earth Defense Force, and more dangerous organizations like HYDRA was no longer a chore. It was steps to a plan, and Nira knew that when Dalkr completed his ritual, this entire state would be devastated.
The Chitauri would have the perfect base to begin Ragnarök. This would actually be better than making Loki launch an invasion force against New York because this time, the location would already be defeated. All she had to do was wait because Nira knew that there were no Raven Blades on Midgard to stop her, or Dalkr, this time.
Angborn sneezed, and Rogers said bless you respectfully. The Asgardian nodded and rubbed his nose.
"Someone must be talking about you," Rogers teased.
Angborn was aware of the odd human idea, and so merely nodded. "I would rather it be that then be getting sick."
"You get sick?" Rogers asked curiously.
Angborn seemed amused by Rogers' misconception, and nodded brightly. "It doesn't happen often to us, but occasionally we do get sick. Not even the self-appointed gods of the Nine Realms can escape the wrath of the common cold."
He made his voice spooky and terrified when he spoke the last few words, and Rogers laughed at his light humor. Only an hour had passed since he had left SHIELD's Triskelion in a fury, almost hissing at the fact Fury had hid the fact Coulson had survived from him. Despite the cultural differences, Angborn was a fellow soldier, and understood Rogers on a level a spy like Fury didn't.
Angborn had mentioned that he had been on Earth during World War 2, but he had quieted instantly afterwards. Rogers guessed that the information had to be classified, but he had no idea why. It did prove that he was having to adapt to the seventy year change just like Rogers was, and Rogers was glad that someone understood what he was having to adapt to. There was quite a bit of common ground between them, and Rogers let himself relax. He had even managed to coax the fact that Angborn had a sweetheart back on Asgard out of him, although he hadn't managed to get her name yet.
Angborn coughed deeply from his diaphragm, covering his mouth with his sleeve and then growled softly, "What a time to get sick."
"Just don't make me sick," Rogers teased him.
"I'll try not to," Angborn said dryly and dropped his arm to his side. "I think part of it might be because I'm not used to the air. The sheer amount of pollution makes it hard to breath. It's hard to believe Earth has dissolved so much in seventy years. Our people count time by decades, age by centuries. For something to change so quickly in less than a century… it is astounding."
"Agreed," Rogers sighed, aware that this was one of the aspects of the modern Earth he disliked. "On Earth being different. I don't know about Asgard stuff."
Rogers got an idea on how to help Angborn, and actually started to walk to a destination instead of wandering around DC, motioning Angborn to follow him. He wanted to ask Angborn why he had been on Midgard during World War 2 and if he had been allied with the either of the superpowers, Allied or Axis, or if he was allied at all. Angborn had quieted so quickly after mentioning his deployment there that Rogers felt it wasn't his place to ask, and he was secretly a little worried about what Angborn would say.
A warm breeze caught pieces of trash and leaves and sent them circling amid the air. It was a muggy June day, and the sky was thick with storm clouds. Rogers wouldn't mind if it started raining as he led Angborn into the parking lot of one of DC's parks as the rain would cool them down. This park had many walking trails, so it was thick with trees.
"Forestry," Angborn murmured when he saw the park, brown eyes lighting up in appreciating.
Rogers let Angborn take the lead and walk along one of the paths. The trees helped muffle the sounds of the cars, and there were rustles of undergrowth from wildlife and the flap of feathery wings. It was a relief to Angborn, and he exhaled in relief at the familiarity.
"Does this remind you of home?" Rogers asked.
"A little," Angborn admitted. "There are no forests within the city of Asgard, but several surround it. I used to go into the forest all the time to get away from the noise and bustle of the capital, but it is nowhere near as chaotic as your 'big city.'"
"Washington DC is the capital of the United States," Rogers chuckled. "I'm still amazed by how much it changed."
"Agreed," Angborn smiled. "This city was far smaller when I last came."
"You were in DC?" Rogers asked suddenly.
Angborn went quiet again, confirming Rogers' guess that it was classified. He didn't bush Angborn, but was still curious what had happened. Suddenly Angborn stopped walking, and Rogers almost bumped into him.
"I smell blood," Angborn said quietly.
"Blood?" Rogers straightened, flexing his hand as if to grasp the handles on his shield.
Angborn nodded, and the two of them silently walked closer to the smell of it. Rogers caught a whiff of iron just as they rounded a corner in the path. Both of them stopped walking at the sight that awaited them.
Police officers had the area taped off, and were working to collect evidence. One of the officers near them noticed their arrival and walked over. Neither of the soldiers noticed his approach, as they were both looking at the body in a tree. The body was that of a boy that couldn't be more then thirteen years old, and he was crucified to two of the tree's branches by a pair of kitchen knives that were embedded in his palms all the way to the hilts. His throat was cut deeply enough to the spine, although no blood stained his clothing. A runic symbol was carved into his right cheek, and blood painted his body, the tree in what appeared to be a ritualistic design. Blissfully, his eyes were closed.
Angborn took a step back, startled by the scene, and asked Rogers seriously, "What did we just walk into?"
"A murder scene," Rogers sighed, unable to take his eyes away from the young boy. "I don't know how it is on Asgard, but murders are common day here. It's almost become a natural part of life."
"I'm sorry sirs," one of the police officers told them. "This area is off limits."
"I understand," Rogers promised them.
He did not want to interfere with their work and accidently damage the evidence if it meant the psyco who had murdered the boy got away.
"Come on," he tapped Angborn's shoulder.
Angborn didn't move. His jaw was locked as he stared at the body. The symbol carved into the child's cheek was the Asgardian rune for the number one. Why was there an Asgardian rune on the body? A memory, suppressed previously, arose before his eyes.
He remembered back on Asgard when he and Loki had been the same age as this murdered boy. A serial killer that had been nicknamed the Cadet Killer had been on the loose, and he had taken the habit of numbering the cadets he killed by carving the rune onto their cheek. The sight of seeing an Asgardian cadet's body tied to the gate of the royal palace, as there had been once, had been startling. There was no way this could be possible, but this modus operandi matched Dalkr's from five centuries ago.
"Dalkr," Angborn whispered.
Rogers hesitated at the odd word. Was that the Asgardian word for murder?
Hel had said that Loki escaped Asgardian custody in a jailbreak, Angborn remembered. How many others escaped with him? It wasn't possible. Dalkr on Midgard? What was happening back home?
"Have there been any other bodies like this?" Angborn asked the officer with sudden urgency. "Please."
"I'm sorry," the officer replied calmly. "That information is classified."
"Have there been any others?" Angborn replied, breathing becoming shallower and quicker in panic.
His voice was sharper this time, and he clenched a hand into a fist. Subconsciously he shifted his weight back in preparation for a fight. Rogers put a hand on Angborn's shoulder to try and calm him before this became physical.
"The best way to draw out a killer is with bait," Loki had said centuries ago when Dalkr had been roaming around killing. He had been testing the sharpness of one of his blades as he said that.
Angborn shook his head as he sat on the edge of Loki's bed. His prince was deadest on taking down Dalkr. At that point in the investigation, Dalkr's identity was not known.
"What do you intend to use for bait?" Angborn had asked Loki patiently.
Loki didn't answer. In fact, he looked away with a little blush creeping to his cheeks.
"No," Angborn said flatly as he realized who Loki was going to use as bait. "You are one of Asgard's princes. You can't be bait to catch this guy."
"Angborn," Loki sighed as he replaced his dagger up his sleeve and turned to face his friend. "It's because I'm Asgard's prince that I have to find this serial killer. Seven cadets have already been killed by him. I'm their prince so they're under my protection. It's not fair for me to stay here when cadets are being killed."
"How about just this once you not put everyone else before you?" Angborn pleaded.
Loki closed his eyes and wove a glamour. His appearance and outfit changed so he was unrecognizable. The black and green tunic was now a cadet's uniform.
"This Cadet Killer is a mage, Angborn," Loki reminded. "Who better to go after him then another mage?"
"Loki," Angborn repeated. "You're a prince. Your life is not expendable no matter what the other boys say."
"Dalkr is targeting cadets with magic," Loki explained. "I have magic and I'm the same age as a cadet. I'm the only one who can act as bait. Can you imagine his surprise when he catches me and realizes that I'm not just some weak-blooded cadet who can barely summon a witchlight, but a prince who's already to the level of an archmage?"
The irritating part was that Loki had a point. Loki was the only Asgardian who not only fit the part but who was strong enough to win in a fight.
"The adults will never agree to this," Angborn warned.
"Why do you think I'm not telling them?" Loki asked pointedly. "Here."
Loki plucked a plain copper ring off of his nightstand. He took Angborn's wrist, and put the ring in his hand. Angborn looked at it curiously. What was this?
"It's got a tracking charm keyed to my lifeforce," Loki explained. "You'll be able to track my location with it. Once you know what building I'm being held in you can tell the adults and have them send troops."
"And you call Thor insane!" Angborn shouted.
The very fact that Angborn shouted startled Loki.
"I don't have to defeat the Cadet Killer," Loki reminded Angborn. "I just have to stay alive long enough for help to arrive. Surviving is something I can do. Besides, do you have another plan? No one seems to have one to catch this guy. We know that it's one of the mage at the court, and this way we'll be able to find out which one."
"The adults don't believe that it's one of the court mages," Angborn grumbled.
"Which is yet another reason not to tell them about this," Loki said smugly. His voice and expression suddenly became serious. "Angborn, the last four cadets whose bodies have shown up were drained of blood. This killer is collecting their blood, and you know how dangerous blood magic is. If he's planning something then he has to be stopped before he gets enough blood to complete his project. We can't let him get the blood of even one more cadet, because that fifth cadet's blood might be all he needs to finish. We need to stop him now."
"The adults don't believe that he's playing with blood magic either, "Angborn sighed.
"Well we ravens know better, don't we Angborn?" Loki asked with a bright smile. "Thanks to Tilaria being a blood mage we know all about blood magic. I'm right about him planning something and you know it."
Angborn closed his fingers around the ring in his hand and looked away with a tsk. Loki was right. He did know better.
"The rest of the Ravens will help spot me, and they'll shadow me to make sure I'm fine," Loki continued. "You are the one who's going to tell Commander Vir where to find me and the Cadet Killer. If things get out of control then we break it off and the other ravens pull me out."
Angborn did not look satisfied.
"Don't worry," Loki said in a gentle voice. "I have no plans to die today."
"None ever do," Angborn warned as he slipped the ring on a finger.
Loki's plan had worked in the end, but he had come dangerously close from dying of blood loss when the ravens had lost sight of Loki and Dalkr had destroyed the tracking charm Loki had put on himself.
Angborn realized that he had fallen into stance without realized it, and now relaxed to avoid a fight. He let Rogers drag him away from the body. There was no proof that this was Dalkr. One body was not enough proof. It couldn't be Dalkr. Despite his reassurances to himself, Angborn found he couldn't stop trembling.
Remember, Angborn is on Midgard, not Asgard. He has no idea that the Celestials have returned, that Asgard is now in war, or anything else that's going on.
It's only fair to warn you, but I am putting this story on the back burner a little more then my others. Have no fear, I do not abandon stories halfway through. It's just not my primary update. My primary update is the stories of Loki as a child, some as young as ten and others when he's older. I invite you to read those in between these updates if you're not already doing so.