The Last Son of Sparta, abandoned and left astray in the frozen wastelands of Midgard, takes in the lessons of this day. His war against Fate, against the Aesir, has only begun and will not sway to his side so easily. Another omen of the end times beckons the call of Ragnarök, the ushering of doomsday. But, for each trial he faces, whether he prevails or not, he grows and evolves. Even now, despite the agitation of failure haunting him, the reward of new power courses through his veins. His steady hands clasping invoke the powers of the Sun and Moon. Solar flames and ghastly lunar mist bleed from the steel of Trolls Bane. His trip to the heavens has blessed his armaments and his body with its radiance.
Keen on studying his newfound gift from the wolves, a horde of ravenous Draugr surrounds him. Their snarls and hollow cries ripple from all directions, steering his focus to them. Regardless of the numbers in this swarm of undead, Atreus is undeterred at the challenge. Instead, a haughty grin pierces his previously perturbed expression. A perfect opportunity to test his unmastered powers has presented itself. A craving to relieve stress has come forth, and for once, he seeks it without hesitance.
The undead masses take the first action, pinpointed on him and rushing him on all sides. Collective, organized and peculiarly strategical with their assault. Several unleash a barrage of firebolts, all converging and hitting him simultaneously. But, blocking the blow with his gauntlets, he absorbs the inferno, redirecting it with solar heat and lunar cold at the swarm. A wave of golden radiance sears and incinerates the distant foes. Promptly, he shifts his killing instinct at the imminent horde that charges. Crouching on all fours, the visages of Sköll and Hati's claws and limbs take over his own. With a thrashing leap, he hurls his body through the decrepit bodies of the undead at blinding speeds. His blades and bear hands shred rotten flesh, brittle bone, and frail metal with ease. In his path, the markings of claws scatter and scar the ground behind him. The gift of the wolves' unrivaled agility and a sliver of strength is now Loki's, to utilize how he sees fit. But, as for now, it can only augment him briefly.
Now, much like the rest of his arsenal, he can invoke runic powers with his gauntlets. Spectral claws of the wolves coat his arms, one with the radiant glow of yellow and the other with an ash blue, misty hue. A brigade of the undead charge head first, driving him to counter with the force of his jötnar kin. With but a slam of his hands into the gravel beneath him, a wave of misty white and vibrant yellow power surges forward like a furious tidal wave. Though not at its most potent capabilities, the wall of energy blows his foes back, rendering them prone to his primal fury.
However, not long into the conflict, Atreus takes notice of their bizarre behavior. Just as victory was assured, the Hel walkers cease their attack. Their wailing and growls hush, and their stances are calm and lifelessly idle. Their expressions are passive, showing no sign of hostility nor the urge to press on further. They've sheathed their weapons, prompting Atreus to grow nervous at their unholy stares.
"What are you waiting for!" Atreus blurts, attempting to continue the fight. "Come on!"
No matter his words, nor his aggressive attitude, the undead are disposition and stand their ground. Instead, as though overlooking him, deterred to a different focus, the horde brazenly take their leave. All but one... The singular ravenous corpse lingers, with a frigid stare not its own. Unlike the others, a misty glow bleeds from its sockets. As Atreus glares back, trying to decipher the purpose of their intention, he can sense an otherworldly presence looking back at him through the Draugr. Not long after, the Hel Walker follows behind the others. Whatever Loki experienced, he knows that someone or something is watching him.
Day or night, it's still impossible to tell. And now the storm serves as a grim distraction for all of Midgard, that Ragnaröks coming. While there's so much clutter and turmoil in his mind, he pushes through the darkness. His main concern now is knowing if Freya returned to the realm safely. If all is well, the Vanir Goddess should be awaiting him inside. Prying the entrance open, the initial sounds that ripple across the Asgardian steel halls are clattering steel. A dim light in the distance flickers with a hammer against an anvil, fire melting metal, and siblings disputes.
"The Sun and Moon have blotted! The wolves have consumed the heavens! It could be another sign. The end times are fast approaching!" Brok's voice echoes.
"Don't jinx it!" Sindri spouts in disbelief. "It could just be lousy weather!"
"Well, whatever damn God or Goddess is getting pissy enough to cause this, they need to get their nether regions untwisted and put this shit back to normal!"
As Atreus marches through the chamber, Freya and the Huldra Brothers speak among the coals of their forge. Sindri scrambles in a panic, juggling different projects to keep his mind off the ominous elements outside. Given the Vanir's irritable look, her patience with the Huldra Brothers wears thin with each passing second. She shields her death, glaring eyes out of annoyance towards the bickering and vulgar discussion.
"I'm afraid he's telling the truth, Sindri," Atreus comments, ashamed. Hearing the discouraged Atreus renders them silent to his defeated tone. "I failed to stop the wolves. If anything, my intervention led to all of this..."
"Wait, that's where you had been this whole time?" Sindri questions. "But you were gone for hours..."
"Much like the nine realms, the outer world of the sun and moon flows differently," Freya explains, disturbed by Atreus's claim. "What might have been mere moments for Atreus was hours here. What exactly transpired up there?"
The aches and sores of Atreus's deadly encounter still weigh on his bones and muscles. With a few stretches and popping of his tendons and shoulders, he drops exasperated onto a firm surface. The thought of including Angrboða in his story causes indifference in his motives. Should he mention her and her involvement with his mission? Of their past and now, what may be her ulterior motive? Is he ready to explain the history he regrets?
"The Primordial's knew who I was," Atreus comments, sighing in disbelief. "Sol and Mani, they knew I would come, and still, they couldn't give me answers. Although Hati and Sköll did not claim their prey, the damage they caused was still enough to sow chaos..." The somber strain of his defeat bleeds from him like a nauseous odor. He shakes his head, barely managing to keep his spirits high. "I couldn't protect them, and because of their injuries and their carriages being destroyed, the sun and moon became clouded... As we speak, the silver and bronze wolves tread Midgard, free of Odin's hold... But in the end, if I hadn't gone, been led astray, then we wouldn't be one step closer to reaching oblivion."
Though their circumstance has grown dire, Atreus doesn't submit to this one failed objective. The look in his eyes is readable and apparent to his ideals of learning and overcoming his mistakes. And although it wasn't a completely lost cause, he still gained a reward for his efforts.
"But, it would have happened regardless," Sindri notes. "The only difference is, now the Goddess and God of the skies get to live to see the future we forge."
"That's right, and we got two allies now, who share in the same opinion," Brok adds, unfazed by the relinquishing omen. "That saggy cock, Odin, has gotta go!"
Unsuspecting to everyone in the room, Brok's vulgar remark towards Freya's ex-husband startles the Goddess. Initially, the brothers flinch as she lets out a loud snort, damn near choking on the water she had been consuming. But, they become leary at her withheld outburst of laughter into her hands. It's one of the few occasions that she displays humor and gaiety on a topic. With the spectating dwarves and Atreus observing her teary-eyed state of laughter, she urgently regains her composure through deep breathing.
"Most certainly," she replies in a quivering tone, on the brink of more chuckling. "The grotesque cock that is my ex-husband now has two more enemies."
"Make that four..." Atreus comments in a mutter.
A brief pause takes hold of the room, everyone discluding Atreus stands idle and perturbed by the soft statement. Yet, the seconds that follow quickly bring to their minds his implication. Immediately, shifting their confusion into skepticism.
"Hati and Sköll?" Freya questions, shaking her head in denial. During their discussion, she mixes and blends materials to form a rejuvenating ointment, taking instant notice of his battle wounds. She rushes to his side, promptly applying the magical golden oils onto his wounds and printing protective seals on his flesh. "As far as I can tell, Atreus, your tussle with them doesn't come off as gentle or friendly." Her remark gives off a hint of humor being found at the notion. Doing so in an attempt to shroud her concerns.
During her medicinal care, Atreus, with a smirk, displays the treasures of his labor. Extending his iron-clad arms forward, he invokes the essence of the Jötunn wolves from Trolls Bane. The brief yet mesmerizing show of forgotten, mystic magic halts everyone in their tracks to observe. Even the whisper of canine growling rings in their ears at the coursing energy.
"That's a Blessing of the Jötnar," Freya states in bafflement, recognizing the source of this power. "It was said that the most powerful giants of Jötunheim could bless those worthy with a piece of their spiritual essence. Augmenting the individual with great power, magic, wisdom, or even deep understanding unfathomable to mortal minds."
"Much like the golden eyes Mimir had?" Atreus questions, dispersing Hati and Sköll's gift.
"Not quite..." Freya returns to one of the counter spaces. Unconsciously, as she explains in further detail of her knowledge, she once more concocts an enchanted mixer. One such ingredient is the dragon's blood from Atreus's gathering. "While those eyes were molded intricately, the heart and soul poured into making them. This power is a shred of the giant's own soul and spirit, only passed to the most trusted individuals. But..."
Slipping only a fraction of her focus back to his gauntlets, she lifts Atreus's arm to examine at eye level.
"What you possess is currently a fraction of a greater power," she claims before finalizing her purple and red, illuminated concoction. "I'm not sure how it's possible, but somehow the wolves had a connection to some greater gift that they only received pieces of."
"Wait, you're saying another giant gave them their own boons?" Sindri questions. "But who?"
"I cannot say..."
"Well, whoever they are," Atreus marches forward, being fully rejuvenated. Stretching his body and cracking his aching bones for the next journey ahead. "Their blessing will be put to good use for whatever challenges get in our way. And to rally our next potential allies in Svartalfheim."
A stiffness of somber, discouraged tension freezes the Huldra Brothers in place. Though the implication is left to the imagination, an immediate, doubtful thought takes residence in their minds.
"Wait?" Brok questions, shaking his head in incredulity. "No! No, no no no-"
"That's a big no!" Sindri comments, denying the subject. "The dwarves will not join the conflict! You have a better chance of convincing an Aesir to nit a dress!"
Their sharp, blatant disagreement with his idea leaves Atreus fumbled and quiet. His experience with other dwarves is vastly limited compared to his history with the Huldra Brothers. Yet, his brief interaction with the denizens of Svartalfheim was pleasant, all things considered.
"Why wouldn't they?" Atreus questions. "When I saved you two a few days ago, they seemed convinced to rally by me."
"That's because you made their day more convenient!" Brok spews pessimistic. "Our people are slow to trust because of the shit show the Aesir and Vanir's war produced! Do you know how many times those Fucks tried to recruit, blackmail, and tried to enslave us?"
"The only reason our people have been able to avoid the conflict was because of our tricks," Sindri adds on. "Brok and myself were acquitted from Odin's punishment because of... Mjölnir..." The tidy dwarf slurs his words at the end, the deep-rooted guilt dragging down his moral compass. "But you saw how long that lasted..."
"Preposterous!" Freya blurts, antagonized by the Huldra Brothers claims. Amidst their exclamation, the Goddess displayed irritation in their explanation. "My people would never do that!"
"Oh, believe me," Sindri immediately clarifies, stricken with terror at the Vanir's outrage. Even thickening the gap between them out of safety. "Your clan is nowhere near as bad as the Aesir, but they're not unicorns and rainbows either..."
At the end of Sindri's incidental remark, the group becomes dumbfounded. The anger that Freya exhibited is relinquished into bewilderment by the civil forge master's snarky comment. The dwarf instantly considers and acknowledges his error in words, shielding his mouth with his gloved hands. Only to be just as quickly appalled by the unintentional action. Brok cracks into proud laughter as he embraces his sibling.
"Was that a joke?" The blue dwarf asks fondly. "Finally, I'm finally starting to rub off on you!"
"You-you are rubbing nothing off on me!" Sindri replies sickly, prying to break from the physical contact.
"H-how do you deal with them?" Freya whispers to Atreus, eyes widen in confusion.
"With time and patience," Atreus replies, chuckling to himself. With a few loud claps, he guides the Huldra Brothers focus back to him. "Guys! Regardless of how you're people may feel, desperate times are upon us. Maybe with the coming war, they'll see reason. We have to try at the very least."
Coming to their senses, placing their minds back on the topic at hand, Brok and Sindri release the other from the uncomfortable embrace.
"You can try, boy," Brok comments, ill confident of the plan. "But don't go crying on us when they don't join the club."
"But before you go, you need to be ready for the journey," Sindri comments, ushering him to their work table. "Let's reinforce your gear before you head into the Realm of Eternal Night."
Piece by piece, blade by blade, the Huldra Brothers make quick work of repairing and improving Atreus's arsenal and equipment. The tools of Ivaldi, with their runic powers, are used minimally to enhanced the assorted weapons and armor before them. Flashes and glimmers of the ancient magic of all shades of color fill the air like glitter and embers. In no time, the Wolf of Midgard is prepared as best he can to face the challenges in Niðavellir. During this process, Freya blends the needed concoction to open the gate to the realm. With the same canister from before, the Goddess passes on the Vanir brew to him.
"Bleed this onto the Bifrost, and it will remove the curse placed on the gate," Freya explains.
"But that won't be enough," Sindri comments haughtily. "You can't open a door without a key."
The Huldra Brothers surround him, Brok holding a glowing chisel of gold and red. However, just as he's about to put it to Atreus's palm, the siblings glimpse over at the Vanir Goddess. Tightening the inner circle, they thwart her sights at seeing the rune they harmlessly etch into Loki's hand. The sigil emits a dark blue glow, glitters of blue flakes bleed of the brand.
"Sorry, sister, family secret," Brok claims. "With this, you can open the way into Svartalfheim, kid... Good luck..."
"Thank you, guys," Atreus says with high regards to all of them. "Wait for me at Konunsgard. We don't know if the Aesir could be around here, so it's best we don't linger here often."
They all give their nods of acceptance, Atreus marching towards the portal room. His hand tapping assuredly onto Freya's shoulder as he passes by. The Huldra Brothers take no time to pack their belongings, with the Vanir already taking on the form of an eagle. In moments, both parties have vacated the chamber before Atreus can enter the next one. Taking a glance back, seeing the empty room, he sighs in relief that they will be safe while he's gone.
The portal room remains stagnant, soaking in the shadows of absence. Only the white oak tree that symbolizes the incomprehensible Yggdrasil emits the soft blue glow. Yet, despite the void and soundless chamber feeling vacant, something is amiss. The further Atreus marches to the tree, the sensation of being observed becomes stronger. Each step he takes, a tightening feeling on his chest increases and clings to him. Finally, he plants his heel onto the pedestal, halting and standing his ground. At last, his ear finally catches the soft noise of footsteps behind him, which only cease a second too late. In one smooth swerve of his body, he draws his bow and loads an arrow onto its string. The bolt courses with lightning, illuminating the expression of the one following him.
"Wait!" Sigyn shouts, hands held out calmly.
"Sigyn?" Atreus questions, taken aback by her unsuspecting presence. As fast as he armed himself, he sheathes his weapons and arrow, exhaling deeply out of shock. "Why did you have to sneak up on me like that? I could have hurt you, or worse..."
"The world was in discord after you went to see the dragons, and you never returned to that fortress," Sigyn explains, just as relieved to be unharmed by her poor choice. "I thought I'd find you here, but instead, I felt the presence of another god I'd never met before. So I hid in here until she left."
"Freya?" Atreus answers amused that she'd be concerned by the Vanir Goddess. "I assure you, she's my friend. She won't hurt you."
Despite his gently amused tone, the sorceress is unmoved by the comments. If anything, hearing the name of Odin's ex-wife only causes her to shiver in concern. Her hands instinctively wrap around her cloth-covered wrists. The tension she radiates is enough to give Atreus a cold shiver of discouragement. He can sense the turmoil, unsure of where it stems from, but partially understanding the feeling.
"What's wrong?" He asks her, reaching a comforting hand out.
"It's just," she softly says, flinching incidentally at his gesture. "Trusting the gods is not an easy thing to ask..."
"I understand," with his reply, he manages to gently touch her shoulder. Though she tenses at his light grasp, she near-instantly quells by it. "Some gods, yes, they make it clear they're not civil. But not all of them... Some of them are good..."
Her eyes lock with his once more, all the more easing the disturbance in her heart. There's still hesitance, but not towards him. Whatever heartaches she endures, they evidently weigh on her soul and spirit. As clear as a barren, he can see the distraught in her motivations. But he doesn't pry, only granting her a sliver of relief to make her comfortable.
"Yes, I guess your right," she replies, tapping his hand before moving toward the tree. "So, where are we off to?"
"We?" Atreus asks, intrigued by her initiative.
"I've been cooked up for too long, never being allowed to travel, or even see what was outside... I want to see the other worlds, to experience what the Nine Realms can offer... I want to learn what I've been missing all of my life." She stands beneath the illuminating branches, awaiting for Atreus to activate the bridge. "Will you be my guide?"
Sigyn's high regard for an adventure and aura of confidence is a bewildering sight for the Wolf of Midgard. The time that they've spent, though limited, has never merited such courage in the sorceress. Atreus, smirking in baffled intrigue, casually approaches.
"And what of the Aesir?" He questions, standing beside her with his hand on the mechanism.
"I saw you stand your ground against Höðr, one of Odin's own children," she answers, partially questioning the thought. "And rally two immortal enemies onto the same side... If you can be brave enough to do that, I can be to face my past..."
Admirably to her notion, he nods with a slight chuckle escaping him. Several years have passed since last having a companion to traverse the Realms with. During those times, with Angrboða, perhaps not the most comforting. Though they served as a means to an end, the new end he seeks will not be driven by desperation or lust for bloodshed. That history will be left behind, regrettably unable to be confronted, for now. Instead, whatever awaits them beyond Midgard, will be a journey of salvation, unity, and the pursuit of the impossible.
Pouring the magical concoction onto the Bifrost, the stone consumes the enchanting liquid like a sponge. With the fed crystal and the travel rune in hand, Atreus activates the bridge. A dark blue hue blazes across the chamber. Flakes and cool embers of sapphire and white flicker in the air above them in the branches. As the beam of concentrated light strikes the massive orb in front of Svartalfheim's gate, the path is unlocked to them.
"I'm quite jealous that you can do that," he replies jokingly, internally dwelling on his own past that he's ill brave enough to face.
(Authors Note)
Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the overall story thus far. I just wanted to thank you again for all of the support, feedback, and fun comments. We recently reached 30,000 views, 80 followers, and almost 80 favorites on this story, several baffling achievements that I'm incredibly grateful for. With that, I would like to let you all know that I'm considering making a P Atreon account.
Believe me, I know it sounds odd. So far, you all only know me for writing fan stories, short stories, and making drawings (some of you might not have even seen my artwork. You can find it by looking up JamesSilas on Deviantart). Even for myself, it's strange to consider, given that I obviously don't want people to spend money on a non-canon story. Which, will not be the case, regardless of if I was given support or not, the story will continue. But, with time, I hope to provide more than what I'm already producing. Ensuring that any financial support I'm given, would be worth it. I'd provide commissions, original stories, and hopefully, in the near future, a stable income to allow me to produce a massive amount of content in half the time.
For now, I would only have 1 tier, which would be 1-2$ US currency. I haven't launched it yet, because I want to make sure I can provide content that's worth everyone's hard-earned money. In the future, I'd create more tiers that will grant you more benefits. If you would be interested, I would greatly appreciate it. Regardless, thank you all soo much again for sticking with me on this journey, and I wish you all the best during these times.