Grimmfall: Ragnarok

I do not own Grimmfall or any other franchises or Fanfiction stories that are mentioned in this.

I do however own Carlos Hunter, who is a character of my own making. If anybody wishes to contest this by saying he is the property of Lord Maximus then I invite you to ask him yourself so he can set the record straight.

Once there was a team of four Huntsmen considered to be among the most dangerous in the world. They are a team no longer, scattered on the winds like specs of ash by broken trust and bonds.

Xxx

"Last time on Grimmfall Ragnarok- urp!" Charlemagne stifled a belch and cleaned his lower face with a napkin as he and Control Freak lounged on a couch together…with a plate carrying what remained of Colonel Sanders between them. "Pardon me, I…have been celebrating the life and death of a good and loyal officer who was…" He sniffed and picked up a bottle of blue vodka. "Taken from us too soon."

"To Colonel Sanders!" Control Freak raised his own bottle, his mouth entirely stained blue on the inside. "The best poultry partner you could ever have for dinner."

"Yes, the best!" Charlemagne agreed. "Sure, he insulted me regularly, teased me, even pecked at my crotch once or twice. I don't know if he thought there was a worm down there or something."

"Dude, gross." Control Freak commented before taking a swig.

"But he was…he was…extra crispy! And covered in BBQ sauce." Charlemagne tapped his bottle to Control Freak's before taking a heavy swing.

"Charlie, you've got the heart of a poet." Control Freak wiped his eyes.

"Yes, I…I…what am I supposed to say when I like something you say?"

"I…do?"

"No, no, this is the start of a new chapter, not a wedding! I haven't even proposed yet." Charlemagne stumbled to his feet. "I…wait a second." He grinned. "Eureka! I have just the thing to cheer us up!"

"I'm cheered and I don't even know what we're talking about." Control Freak shrugged before holding up his free hand. "Uh…how much of this stuff have we had? I think I'm colour blind now."

"Ok Control Freak, you're drunk." Charlemagne reached over. "Gimme that- OOF!" He toppled over. "…hi floor. Why is it so…white and bottomless?"

"I dunno." Control Freak shrugged, still staring at his hand. "Ask it to make you a sandwich."

"Hey floor, make me a…Huh?" Charlemagne reached under the couch and pulled out a cassette which read 'PLAY ME'. "Ooh, movie time!" He snapped his fingers and conjured a television so he could insert the cassette.

After a moment of static, Charlemagne appeared on the screen. "I bring you greetings from the past! Hey there, Future-Me. If you're seeing this then you're so drunk that you can't even do the opening right. Not that I blame you, of course, but the show must go on!"

"Yaaaaay…" Control Freak rolled off of the couch.

"So to cap it all off: the Idiot Brigade are on the march down the hole to Wonderland, Lord Idiot says something stupid, Lady Idiot says something stupid, Sir Idiot gets in on the fun and they fight a bunch of jerks. They find a couple of fairy kids who promise to lead them to their hippy circle where they can all get stoned together. It was the BEST day ever. There: we're all caught up. Now I'm going to sit down, turn this off and laugh at the world. Good luck with the show: you wasted, honking idiot."

The video ended.

"I like that guy." Charlemagne chuckled. "Hey Control Freak, think we can get his number? He looks like a real party animal!"

Control Freak groaned and put a hand on his stomach. "Oh boy…you all…might want to scroll down now. This is about to get messy!" He gagged and put a hand over his mouth as his cheeks bulged.

"No-no-no not on the sandwich-floor!"

Xxx

Chapter Twelve: Trials of Yggdrasil, Part 1

The Realm of Alfheim, Lake of Light

"Strike them down!" A dark elf held their staff up overhead. "For the glory of Nidhoggr, slayer of go- ugh!"

Dracon holstered his beam pistol as the dark elf plummeted off to the side of the path where he was joined by several more riddled with arrows or bearing scorched blade wounds. After checking the sky he ushered Kara and Carita along. "I take it dark elves have no concept of a surprise attack."

"They never made any progress in invading our lands before Nidhoggr came to their aid." Kara moved with barely a sound in her step, almost gliding across the ground to perch atop one object or another without ever unsettling the loose dirt and twigs underfoot. "And even with his war beasts they have not taken Tyr's Temple."

A whistle from ahead signalled that the way was clear. When Dracon and his two charges stepped through the next set of bushes they found themselves at the shore of the Lake of Light…which had been piled with the bodies of light elves who had failed to make the voyage across the glimmering waters and sprinkled with dark elves who had paid a heavy price for this latest atrocity. Many wrecks of boats dotted the beach, some of them sunken into the shallows or left to drift on the currents.

Carlos and Leslie were waiting for them, leaving a few more dead dark elves in their wake.

"It looks like we'll have to fly across." Carlos informed them. "Dracon, how many can you carry?"

"Easily all four of you." The Dragon of Denver began to unfurl his wings and charge up his boosters before Carita darted towards the water. "Carita!"

"Let her work." Kara held up an arm to stop Leslie from following. "You have seen some of the dark elves wield magic, yes? Carita can be considered their counterpart, and it is only by a light mage's will that we may cross these waters."

Carita stepped in until the water lapped around her knees. Cupping her hands to her chest, the elf slowly inhaled, raised her hands over her mouth and breathed out a shimmer aura-like effect which seeped down onto the Lake of Light, forming glyphs which flowed in lines which converged to form a spiral which glowed bright and rotated, slowly at first but then building speed until it became a solid disc.

From this emerged a longship akin to those used by the Vikings of old, with a sail made of a white translucent material which seemed to glimmer like the lake beneath it.

The longship stopped short of Carita and extended a single plank from its prow. The girl turned and beckoned for them to follow before she ascended to board the ship.

"Well…that works too." Carlos shrugged and followed after, wading out into the shallows and climbing aboard with Kara and Leslie while Dracon simply flew over and landed on the deck before the ship started moving. "Dare I even ask or should we just assume that magic is doing this?"

"Where have you been the last…" Leslie checked her watch. "Two hours? Everything runs off magic in this realm."

"And here I am still wondering what the actual difference is between magic and aura." Carlos leaned against one side of the ship and stared down at the water, which appeared reflective so close up. "My theory: one has consistent rules, the other is total bull sh…" He paused as he remembered the presence of two potentially under age elves. "…sugar."

"What is this…bull sugar?" Kara asked.

Leslie snickered and stepped away. "Smooth move, Candy Man."

Crap.

"Back where we come from- Midgard I mean, it is…" Carlos racked his mind for a way out. "A way of saying that something is…utter nonsense."

"It sure is utter nonsense." Dracon muttered, shaking his head in disapproval as the elven girl mulled over this.

"I see…then one might say that the dark elves' decision to war on us is also the 'bull sugar'." Kara experimented. "Yes?"

Carlos groaned in despair at the idea of this catching on and reaching any elven parents. "Sure, yeah. Bull sugar."

Once Kara returned to the prow with Carita, Leslie inched back over to Carlos with a nefarious grin. "You are so-" she paused, glanced towards the sisters and used one hand to form a circle with her thumb and index finger, then poked her opposite index finger through the circle.

"Leslie, why do I put up with you again?"

"Your wife is my best friend. Why haven't I ever put an arrow in your head for being a doofus?"

"Because she wouldn't forgive you?"

"Eh, I think she'd be more angry that I killed you first. Remember your wedding day?"

"When she gave me my suicide ring." Carlos held up the hand in question and removed his glove to show said ring.

"…suicide ring?" Dracon chose this moment to rejoined the conversation. "How does that work?"

"If I ever take it off, she kills me. Doesn't matter where I am in the universe or for what reason." Carlos put his glove back on.

"…your family is weird." Dracon stated.

Carlos slumped and murmured. "You have no idea."

The ship approached the island at the heart of the lake, passing through the shadow of the great arch looming overhead. As it got nearer figures near the shore moved to higher ground and many arrows were pointed towards where the boat touched down.

"Halt!" A man-elf called out. "Name yourselves! If you've carried dark elves t this hallowed ground you'll regret it!"

"Don't shoot!" Kara replied. "I am Kara of the Crystal Grove, here with my sister Carita and…" She looked to the trio of non-elves on board. "…friends sent by Tyr of Asgard!"

The elves lowered their weapons and stared warily as the longship extended its boarding ramp to allow its passengers to disembark. Kara and Carita went first, followed next by Leslie who kept her hood down, Carlos and finally Dracon- whose appearance had a particular effect on the elves. Thankfully nobody was scared enough to take a shot at him.

"How can this be true?" One of them demanded. "The Bifrost has not opened for centuries by the will of the hated Raven God."

"And it allowed us in by the will of the…hopefully not quite as hated Tyr." Carlos replied. "He sent us here from Midgard to find Mimir for guidance."

"Tyr resides on Midgard?" The elven sentry who spoke before looked puzzled by this. "Then…his plan worked?"

"You will need to be more specific on what his plan is." Dracon pointed out. "All that we know is that there are two living men who were flung into the realm of Helheim while using the Bifrost and Mimir is the only one we can go to for help in saving them."

The elves by this point had begun to disperse, several taking up watch positions over the sandy shore while others made their way inland towards Tyr's Temple: which was built out of a hill where solid portions of white tone with golden ornaments jutted out through solid rock. Several stacks of smoke rose from behind a perimeter wall, which was watched by more light elves, surrounding the base of the hill.

"The way to Mimir lays in the hands of the dark ones." The elven sentry who had remained to speak told them. "And even if it were not, the decision would be up to the elders…those who remain."

Carita urgently pulled away from her sister's grasp. "Perhaps mama and papa are here!" She exclaimed.

"Carita!" Kara called after her. "I need to go with her."

"Go." The sentry told her. "I will show them to the elders. If they are truly friends of Tyr, then an audience is at least warranted."

Kara nodded. "I will see you all inside. Best of luck and thank you again!" She raced after Carita toward the temple's entrance.

Xxx

Before the dark elves had invaded, there had been over a hundred tribes of light elves within the regions around the Lake of Light alone, each led by an Elder and several hundred strong apiece. Less than a tenth of those tribes had more survivors than what could be counted on two hands, with those closest to the lake having had ample warning to more successful evacuate while others were cut off and slaughtered like those who had fled in desperation to the Bifrost. For the ret of Alfheim, too little was known to say for sure how their kin from abroad fared against this onslaught.

Only three Elders had successfully made the journey to Tyr's Temple and had taken up a makeshift court within a long room with vaulted ceiling which resembled a longship flipped over to form a roof.

All three elders wore matching silver robes complete with hoods and face shawls which hid all but the area around their eyes. From the Crystal Grove Tribe came Elder Vitri, the youngest of the three and a powerful sage who had managed to guide at least some of his people to safety despite being one of the more distant tribes. Representing the Greywood Tribe was Elder Vana, the only she-elf among the living Elders and the most militant among them judging by the presence of a spear by her side along with a bow and full quiver. And finally there was Elder Gor of the Whitestone Tribe, the eldest of the three a evidenced by his apparent physical frailty, which not even his garments could conceal.

They sat at a table at the head of the hall while dozens more elves gathered around to bear witness.

"Revered elders, these three who stand before you are travellers from Midgard." The sentry who had et them on the beach, named Einar Frodeson, introduced the team. "Two young ones from the Crystal Grove tribe speak of their heroic rescue from a band of dark elves who had slaughtered those fleeing to the Bifrost. They claim to have been sent by Tyr of Asgard in search of wisdom from Mimir."

Elder Vana visibility squinted as she looked over the trio. "How came you from Midgard?" She made no attempt at reiterating the present status of the only viable means of travel between realms.

"Tyr has another temple on Midgard which allows him access to the Bifrost." Leslie answered. "We were brought to him for sanctuary after being attacked by an Asgardian named Baldur."

The mention of Baldur's name caused many elves to grimace and turn away, muttering bitterly.

"So…you know him too." Carlos ventured a guess.

"The mad son of the Raven God is known to us, as is Tyr's plans for what you described." Elder Vitri confirmed. "My thanks to you for saving my kin. Your deed alone should be all the proof we need that Tyr has not forgotten us."

"He made no mention of Alfheim being consumed by war." Dracon said. "We can't speak for whether he knew or not. During our travel to his Midgard Temple, Baldur attacked us and caused two of our comrades to plummet into Helheim. He told us that Mimir would know how to get them out of there."

"That would be the truth." Elder Gor rasped, speaking slowly with a deep voice that spoke of a powerful man defeated only by the ravages of time. "Mimir does reside on Alfheim, and would know of what you seek. But our dark cousins…they have besieged us here and the path to him is blocked."

"We can fight through them." Carlos stated. "And after what we've seen them do to your people, I'll gladly take them on. Mimir might even be able to help end this war if he's as big of a negotiator as the stories say."

The elders momentarily debated after this.

"Your proposal has…merit." Elder Vitri conceded. "However, we must ask you to submit yourselves to a small…test."

Carlos exchanged looks with his team mates before Dracon spoke. "What kind of test do you mean?"

"Mimir's time is not to be casually wasted, or in his words-" Elder Gor put on a heavy accent which…sounded strangely scottish. "I will not speak to a doofus, so dunnae send me a doofus!"

"Oooookay…" Leslie raised one brow. "Sounds like he's got your number, Carlos."

"Second year, January 28th in girls' swim class-"

"Shhhhh!" Leslie covered his mouth. "We'll take the trials, just stop Carlos from talking."

"Yes, please do." Dracon added dryly, not wanting to hear anymore of the escapades that went on in Nevernest.

"The trials were put in place to ensure that only persons of a certain…character would be trusted with Mimir's location." Elder Vana elaborated. "They were specifically designed in a way that the Raven God and any of his minions would fail, and as the trials are the only way for one to obtain Mimir's location his safety is guaranteed."

"They require you to face your own inner demons and not defeat them…but come to terms with them." Elder Vitri clapped his hands thrice, summoning from a back chamber a procession of robe clad elves carrying between them a pot filled with a bubbling concoction. "Mimir himself crafted the enchantments over this potion to act as the catalyst for the trials. Drink from this, and your journey shall begin."

"You just had that stuff pre-prepared?" Dracon asked.

Elder Vana sighed and brought one hand up to nurse an apparent headache. "You wouldn't believe how many of our young seek Mimir out. Suddenly they turn five-hundred and suddenly think they're all grown up and ready to take on the world! In any case it pays to keep a large supply on hand."

Carlos' brows shot up. "Wait, if five hundred is really young for you…how old were those kids we saved?"

"Young Kara has only just reached the age of majority while Carita is but at a tender age of one-hundred and fifty." Elder Vitri answered pleasantly. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Eh…yeah." Leslie agreed halfheartedly as the attendants handed bowls to her and Carlos.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to partake." Dracon said. "I'm not exactly able to…ingest things like I used to."

"Ah, I see." Elder Gor nodded. "Worry not, there is an alternative for those who cannot drink from Mimir's Tonic."

"Then why do we have to drink this stuff?" Carlos asked, grimacing at the acrid odour as his bowl was filled. "Sign me up for option B."

Elder Vana rose to her feet, raised one hand and pointed at Carlos…

"Wiiiiiimp!" She cried out.

"Nerrrrd!"

One elf stood up from among the hecklers and began to flap her arms and mimic a chicken. "Buck-buck-buck-buuuuck!"

The entire hall was now filled with light elves who moments ago had been composed and serene in their disposition…and now were making him think back to a drinking party back in his last year at Nevernest. Even the younger, child-looking elves were joining in on mocking Carlos.

"Oh great," he sighed in exasperation, "so frat parties exist out here too."

Raising one hand, he bellowed. "Alright! Alright! I'll drink it! Sheesh." He brought the bowl to his lips and poured the contents, which tasted as bad as they smelled, down his throat.

A chorus of shocked cries and laughter rang throughout the hall.

"He drank the whole bowl!"

"Ohhh by Tyr's beard hairs!"

"Get a record seal! Someone get a record seal!"

Carlos wasn't sure if it was what he'd just drank, but he was already feeling nauseous. "What? What's wrong?"

"You drank the whole bowl!" Elder Gor cackled, clapping his hands together. "That was meant to be passed around to half the room."

Ohhhhh shit.

"Fair warning, son of Midgard," Elder Vitri snickered. "You're going to freak out and…more than likely defecate yourself to death."

Leslie took a quick sip from her bowl and passed it along. "Sorry, Carlos."

"Nice knowing you." Dracon added.

"Mother fu…" Carlos' speech slurred and he fell into oblivion…

And as his vision returned to him, his mouth opened and he cried out. "Kurt! Come back!"

Xxx

The Realm of Helheim

There was no geography in Helheim.

Well, there were some consistent locations, but even those seemed to change location at random. To date, Kurt had marked thee significant areas which kept popping up no matter which direction he and Roberto took or how far they travelled.

The first was a great bridge which crossed over a dark smog, a stone arch held up by nothing which vanished into a great curtain of mist. Here, many spectral figures moved in a seemingly endless march, disappearing into the haze while more would trickle in from anywhere else to cross. They paid no heed to the two living men in their midst, passing through them without incident.

The second was a river, the only water in this perpetually frigid world which wasn't frozen solid. There were ruins of structures jutting out of the waters, but neither Huntsman dared to take a drink from the churning, foaming rapids which eventually returned to where ever they had begun to follow it from. Sometimes they would see signs of a boat moving out on the river, but never attempted to call out or reach it.

The third was what lay where ever the bridge from earlier ended: a dark, dead city with a spire towering over the rest of Helheim. Here, a great eagle perched atop the spire and flapped its wings, generating the endless winds which brought eternal frost to this realm.

Anything else was indistinguishable from the next stretch of cracked pathway coated in black ice and meter long icicles.

"This. Place. Is. Bullshit!" Roberto shouted for the tenth time as they reached the bridge yet again. "So is this bridge, so was that river and so is that stupid bird!" He pointed towards it. "Ohhhh you're gonna make the biggest set of chicken breasts in the world if I get hold of you."

The eagle, if it could hear him, gave no indication and continued as usual.

"How long have we even been here?" Roberto demanded, kicking one icicle at its base and sending the shards over the adjacent ledge.

"About…" Kurt checked his tablet. "…forty minutes."

"WHAT?!" Roberto spun around. "You're kidding me! It feels like hours!"

"Something tells me that is a desired effect by this place." Kurt pocketed the tablet. "Look at those souls: there can't still be that many worshippers of the Asgardians alive today. They're going across over and over again, always trying to reach that city but never making it. And this world keeps herding us back to here or to the river. In the end, they have nowhere to go but across the bridge…and even then they aren't freed. This is the Norse realm of the dead, and not the kind who get into Valhalla. It's a place of eternal suffering."

"Well we aren't dead, so somebody had better let us out of here!" Roberto raged. "This is why I hate magic!"

"We'll be dead if we stay here for too long." Kurt warned, rubbing his hands against his arms. "The only reason this cold hasn't already started setting in is because I've been using my Semblance to keep the air around us warmer."

"Okay, what can't that semblance do?" Roberto rubbed his hands along his biceps to fend off the encroaching chill. "I thought you just did stuff with vibrations."

"For one: open an inter dimensional gateway to get us home." Kurt pointed out.

"Well let me know when you figure that out." Roberto deadpanned.

"I figure out how to work out that ulcer you had last year, didn't I?"

"You- Wait, I had an ulcer? How?"

"Yeah, I found a frequency to repair tissues, including removing ulcers." Kurt explained. "I even found one to help enhance digestion process to get more nutrients out of our meals…but given your diet, that's still not a whole lot."

"Eh, bite me." Roberto grumbled.

"No thanks, I know what you eat." Kurt stepped towards the bridge. "The only idea I have to get anywhere that isn't in circles is going across this bridge."

"You mean the one that you just said has the souls of the dead going in a big circle?" Roberto demanded.

"We aren't dead." Kurt pointed out. "It's a risk, but…we can't hold out hope for the others getting to us in time to save us, especially if time is inverted against us."

Roberto groaned. "Aw fine, let's take the Bridge of Death, shall we?"

They came to where the bridge began, flooded by a sea of immaterial wraiths eternally making a crossing they would never finish. Kurt took a breath, stretched out with one leg…

And found himself surrounded by fire, smoke and the screams of the dying.

Behind him, Carlos screamed. "Kurt! Come back!"

A shiver shot up his spine as Kurt remembered this day. "Oh no…"

Northguard.

Xxx

"Blergh…leave me alone." Charlemagne groaned, draped across the top of his couch while Control Freak was outright unconscious in a pile of his own stomach contents. "Just read the stupid file and let me use the eternity until the author manages to post the next chapter to get over this god awful headache."

File Accessed

Name: Kurt Malcolm

Codename: The Ingenious Huntsman

Weapon: The Tuning Blade. Regularly shaped as a rapier, the Tuning Blade has a far more complex interior design which possesses the ability to process vibrations, amplifying the effects of Kurt's semblance.

Semblance: Frequency Field. Kurt is able to utilize sounds coded with frequencies manipulated by his Aura to achieve any number of feats, from soothing headaches or accelerating cellular regeneration to enhancing the function of bodily systems or even genetic traits. Some examples of what Kurt is capable of achieving are removing his need for prescription eyewear, enhancing both his and others' ability to absorb and regain information and induce a state of superhuman physicality. The exact limits are not yet explored, but in the words of all three of his teammates from the defunct Team RGCK: 'His powers are bull sugar!'

Family (confirmed to still be alive and identified): Sarah Hunter-Malcolm, wife. Carlos Hunter, brother-in-law. Robert Hunter, nephew. Charles Hunter, nephew. Elisa 'Ellie' Hunter, niece.

Background: REDACTED AT KURT MALCOLM'S REQUEST. (Aka: he threatened to share our browser history if we didn't redact it)