Visitation

by kalimecat

Loki has returned to Asgard and is imprisoned for his crimes. While in prison he has the occasional visitor, will the love of others bring back the fallen prince or is he truly too far gone?

56. Players In Position

A/N: HEEELLLLOOOOO READERS! How Are you? I hope that you are all doing well in the midst of the Pandemic. I hope many of you have returned to a life that feels more normal. I hope that each and everyone of you have been safe. I hope you didn't feel like the wait was too long for this one. I really worked diligently to try to finish this story. I always like to remind each and every one of you have much all your reads, follows, favorites and comments mean to me, they are always bright spots in my day. I thank you immensely. Xoxoxox (socially distanced hugs and kisses) LOL. This chapter is a long one so brace yourself . I think this chapter has some good scenes although I admit I thought we would get a few more action scenes than what we got. I hope you all can forgive me. Anyway, I'll let you judge for yourselves. Happy Reads and Writes. May God Bless YOU!

BLACK LIVES MATTER!

CHAPTER 56

The horn sounded. Its sound wild and loud, it echoed across the hills that guarded the city that led out to the forests. It was a hollow and rich sound, but it was grating and frightful. It wasn't musical at all, but it was like a call from some type of animal. Every Asgardian knew what it meant. Both civilian and soldier new the foreboding trumpet of the old ram's horn. Dread and fear gripped the people of Asgard fast than the third blast could be blown from the horn. It sent the people of Asgard into a frenzy. Frantic cries and screeches went out.

"Oh no!"

"They're on to us!"

"The Dark-Elves!" panicked screams went out throughout the crowd.

"How'd they find us? How'd they find us?" mumbles and murmurs exploded throughout the band of citizens.

"Oh, what are we going to do? What are we going to do?" worried souls asked each other frantically as they grabbed and clung to each other.

"We should stand. We should stand and fight?" declared a man. He was surrounded by a few other Aesir men. He was carrying a simple butcher's cleaver. He was a rather portly man. His head was bald, and his face was all cut up.

"RUN!" Yelled out a soldier toward the citizens. It didn't take long before the people's feet took off. They were all running like wildfire. They were running like frightened rabbits. They were running like scared rats. They were scuttling along, dirty and crippled and fleeing with their tails between their legs and scrambling to carrying on with what little pitiful existence they had left. That was not the Aesir way. They weren't cowards. They were warriors they were fighters. But that was what this crisis had reduced them to. So, they had to run. Some and to run and some had to fight in order to have hopes that they would survive. The Aesir tried to gather their few spoils. Their tiny baskets and sacks. Women hoisted up their skirts and snatched up their babies and took off their shoes and raced over the rubble and rocky ground. They tripped and stumbled over one another, pushing and shoving desperately trying to get away from the mounting force that seemed to be riding closer and closer toward them. With a dust storm leading the way.

The young woman on Frandal's back was rallied by the blasts of the Ram's horns. She poked her head up from Frandal's strong broad shoulder. "What? What?" she asked in a daze. "What was that?" she continued as she looked around wildly. She saw all the people moving in a blur. They ranked in more than 2000 and they were all sloshing and fumbling and screaming trying to run further up into the hills and get to the forest.

Frandal bit down into his lip, "It's an attack?" the blonde-haired swordsman muttered.

"An...an attack?" Izette muttered. "No! No!" she started screaming. "That's impossible," she grabbed her head. "We ran! We ran away! We ran away so that we wouldn't be attacked. We ran away to escape," she insisted. Hot tears welled up in her eyes.

"Well the way of escape, isn't easy, sweetheart," Frandal admitted.

"Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness," the pregnant woman mumbled. She started hyper ventilating. "Oh, my goodness! Merciful Yggdrasil! What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?" she muttered allowed and shook her head from side to side.

"It's gonna be alright Izette," Frandal tried to soother her.

Izette hardly heard his words. "My baby! My baby! My baby is never gonna get to see the light of day. And that's not right! That's not right," she blubbered. "But maybe it's better this way. I'd rather my baby die, than have to live the life of a slave," she confessed and one of her hands strayed from around Sir Frandal's neck to rub her belly.

"Izette! Izette!" Frandal called trying to interrupt her tirade. "Don't talk like that!" he warned her. "The fights not over yet," he expressed.

"Oh, it's over! It's over!" she muttered. The tears were now spilling fast and hot on the back of his neck. "It's nearly dawn. It's nearly dawn now," she said as she pointed to the clouds. They were just at that point. They were just at the point where darkness was about to be forced to give way to light. "Prince Thor's probably dead!" she shrieked.

Frandal squatted down and allowed for the pregnant woman to slide off of him. She swayed as her feet touched the ground. He caught her round the arms and shoulder and held her fast so that she was standing on her own two feet looking him dead in his blue eyes. "Don't you talk like that! Don't you say things like that!" he admonished her sternly. She gulped and shook her head at first as tears still flowed, but after a while she started bobbing her head. "It's not over. It's not over for us!" he declared. "It's not over until there isn't one Aesir left to fight. You have to believe that. We are gonna be ok, we are going to be alright," he kept telling her. He started stroking her dirty cheeks and her long, tangled hair. Silently, she bobbed her head. She agreed to his commands. "Your baby is going to live," he said looking down at her swollen stomach.

"Don't tell me that! It might not be true!" she barked back at him.

"It definitely won't be true if you don't believe it will be true," he stated. "Do you want it to be true?" he demanded of her while giving her a firm shake.

"Yes! Yes!"

"Then you do everything you can to make sure that it's true!" he warned her and pointed a finger in her pretty face. "You go like the others and run now! Get to the forests, they'll lose you in the forests. The people will be safe and if you need to fight then the woods will aid you," he explained to her.

Izette nodded. "Alright, alright," she mumbled. Her arms protectively encircled her stomach. "Be careful," she warned the handsome young Einherjar.

"Oh, there's no fun in battle if you do that, milady," he kibitzed, and he flashed that signature devil-may-care smile that was famous for making the ladies swoon. She shook her head and for a fleeting moment a smile graced her lips. Sir Frandal was just as charming as all those scroll stories had described him as. And she was glad of it. She started to flee. She made a few swift steps on bloody feet following in the direction of the current of fleeing Aesir citizens, but then she turned back around. She turned back around and ran toward Frandal. He was shouting and yelling loudly over the crowd. He was directing people and telling them to run. She ran back and grabbed him by the shoulder and took care to spin him around. When he turned around, he met her bloody, chapped, dirty lips. They mashed against his. Now the legendary Aesir lover-boy had kissed both queen and bar wench. Queen's whose lips were red and rose petals and soft and silk and tasted like honey and Barmaids whose lips tasted of mead and at this moment he had to admit that Izette's filthy mouth was no less satisfying.

He finally broke the kiss pushing away from her. They both looked each other up and down, panting. "It could have been fear or hormones that made me do that," she confessed to him as she took a step back.

He smiled, "When this is all over, I'm gonna come and take you to the best gourmet restaurant in the Imperial City and then I'll do something to truly earn that sweet kiss, Lady Izette," he expressed.

"Oh, Sir Frandal, I bet you say that to all the damsels that tickle your fancy," she laughed.

"Of course, my lady, but I'm a man of my word and I follow through with everyone," he said as he gave her a salute. She watched as he moved the people along for just a few more minutes before she too started to run away once more.

Frandal soon found himself running against the steady stream of citizens. He made his way to wear Lord Heimdal was standing with a mighty golden sword fit snuggly in his hands He had an intense gaze on his face. "Heimdal!" Frandal called. "What's the situation?" he asked. "Is it really the Dark-Elves?"

Heimdal shook his head. "It very well could be," he stated. "I am far from the Bifrost and it could be the Aether's dark effects, but my powers seem to be weakened," he admitted as he hung his head for a moment. He quickly raised his head high and gave a steely gaze as he stared off in the distance. Frandal placed a hand on the guardian's shoulder.

"How could they find us?" he asked shaking his head.

"Malekith knows no pity," he stated.

"We don't need his pity," another soldier stated as he came upside by side with General Frandal and Asgard's gatekeeper. "If any of them Dark-Elves get within an inch of my spear I'll gut them like fish or I'll die trying," he declared. A few more soldiers came and made a line with the others. They stood as a barrier between the riding army and people of Asgard desperate to get safely to the woods.

They soon ranked with about 30 men. They weren't even of troop, but what they lacked in number they made up for in spirit and in skill. "Remember the stories of our youth boys," Frandal called to them. "Remember what the brave Aesir have done in the past and know that we can do it again," he encouraged.

"We will hold this line," Heimdal declared. "We will hold it for as long as we can to give the people of Asgard on both fronts a chance. Perhaps if Malekith has sent his forces here there are less Dark-Elf soldiers at the palace and that is good for the rest of our people and for Prince Thor," he explained. They nodded. They readied themselves and put on their helmets and sharpened their swords and held their spears high and aimed their arrows.

The distant army was no longer so distant. They could feel the way that their forces horses and chariots and tanks shook the earth. The dust that they were kicking up swirled around them in a blaze and haze. "We should run out to meet them," one soldier suggested. "They won't be expecting it. They are expecting to chase cowards."

"It's best we stay here. We wait. It gives the people more time." Heimdal stated. And so, they waited. They waited one painstaking minute after painstaking minute. They heard the screams of terror from the Aesir citizens who were fleeing for their lives behind them and they heard what sounded like a mighty roar. The soldiers were antsy. They grinded their teeth and twisted their feet into the dirt...waiting. Their hands flexed around their weapons. Their palms started to sweat. Their hearts started to beat heavy in their chest cavities.

"Come on you bastards!" One soldier shouted out to the too distant army.

"Steady, young warrior, steady" Heimdal cautioned.

"Sorry, my lord," the soldier spat out like gravel, "I just can't wait," he growled. "I'm not just going to let them pick us apart," he admitted.

"We're a small bad," another soldier whispered. "Heimdal is right, if we break the line now the people will have less of a chance," he explained.

"When we see the flags," Frandal countered. "We'll run out when we see their flags. It should put enough distance between the army and the citizens," The swordsman stated. The others nodded liking the plan and Heimdal didn't seem to disagree. They all waited as they heard the thunderous sound of a fast-approaching battalion in front of them and the scattered screams of broken citizens behind them. They waited with beady eyes watching the dust mount.

"I can see a flag!" one warrior called. He pointed his finger in the direction of a long staff that had a white flag mounted on top of it. It was flying high over the dust that was being kicked up by the horses.

"White Flag," Frandal's golden brows quirked. "Malekith's troops wouldn't be flying a white flag."
"It could be a trick from Loki, trying to catch us off and unawares," the young soldier replied. Before Frandal could respond the soldier took off running into the distance and broke line with the rest of their ranks.

Heimdal kept his golden eyes concentrated on the approaching army. He prayed to the Norns to endow him with the full potency of his powers once more. This Aether was blinding him clouding his sight. He should have been able to recognize if this force was friend or foe. The other men were ready to go. They started to mount they were ready to charge.

"General Frandal what are your orders, sir?" they asked.

"Lord Heimdal will give the signal," Frandal retorted, but he was starting to wonder what was keeping the gatekeeper from giving a command. The army was riding high and fast and they were less than a few kilometers out. If they didn't do something they'd simply be trampled underfoot.

"Orders?" they called.

Frandal cast a glance to his left. Heimdal was clad in all his fine armor his large helmet sat atop his head regally and his eyes were practically hidden. But he saw how intense the man's stare was. Sir Frandal shook his head. They couldn't afford to be sitting ducks any longer. "Alright, archers get ready to take your aim," he cautioned them. The 5 soldiers who were archers readied their arrows and set to aim them high. "Spearmen move to the flanks. Get your spears ready. You may be able to cause the horses to throw the riders off," he expressed. "Swordsman we will do a full-on assault," Frandal instructed each of the warriors. He was met with several hearty "aye, aye sirs" in reply. "Okay, men on the count of three," he turned his head and tried to look at each man. "One...two..."
"Wait!" Heimdal called out he put a bracing hand against Frandal's chest and stepped forward in front of the troop.

"Master Heimdal we have held back long enough," a common foot soldier protested.

"No," the dark-skinned man shook his head. His voice was calm and placid. Heimdal was a striking and imposing figure and because of the severity of the position which he held he was not known to crack many smiles, but Frandal thought that he detected a faint glimmer of a grin on his face. "Behold," he said as he pointed toward the dust.

"They are coming! WE must do something!" the warriors shouted. But a few raised their hands toward their heads and looked out in the distance.

"They are flying Aesir colors!" a young warrior responded joyfully.

"No... no... no...no" an older more experienced militiaman stated. He was carrying a spear. "It's just a trick!" he raised his spear in the air. "It's just Loki!" he responded. "They are trying to trick us. They mean to kill us! Let us not be deceived by that trickster and this foreign horde!" He rallied.

"No!" This time it was Frandal who spoke up. "It's the queen's colors! They are flying the queen's colors!" he pointed out. Over the cloud of swirling brown and golden sand that was rising up Frandal spied the royal flag of the queen. It was a lovely banner. It was purple and gold and, in the center, there was a beautiful unicorn and behind the unicorn was the three golden triangles as a symbol of Asgard.

All were astonished, but as the gazed up they saw the same thing. "It is the queen's force," Heimdal confirmed to them. A large smile spread across his lips.

"How, how can this be?" the soldiers mumbled to each other in sheer amazement.
"Perhaps the Norns and the kings of our past have heard our prayers," Frandal expressed as he looked up toward the heavens. The sky was still tainted black with the ash of the Aether. But there was a trail of light the was being emitted through the dark black and red Aether clouds giving way to the dawn. The soldiers shouted and cheered and fell to their knees weeping.

"Blow the rams horn Blow the rams horn!" Frandal declared. He raised his fist triumphantly in the air. The young soldier in possession of the horn did exactly as instructed. He brought the horn to his lips. He took a big gulp of air as he pursed his lips tightly around the horns mouth. He blew into the instrument with all his might. And the loud blast of the trumpet made from anima parts bellowed and echoed. He blew it again one loud and strong powerful sound. It was one steady string of a rhythmless sound. And yet it was one of the greatest heralds of joy the people of Asgard had ever heard.

The Aesir soldiers immediately ran out to greet the teams battalion. They were eager. They shouted and waved and blew the rams horn loudly. Queen Frigga was stationed firmly in the center of the great company. "Soldier, do you hear that?" the queen inquired as she heard the familiar sound of the ram's horn.

"It sounds like a horn your majesty," He stated riding beside her. He had a battle axe ready to strike down anyone who would dare raise a finger to harm the queen of Asgard.

"Yes, quite," Queen Frigga stated nearly dismissively. They were in a large company now. They were ranking in a band of thousands. Her own guard and the soldiers who guarded the Southern Palace as well as military men and women and civilian citizens from Kytheria. It shouldn't be surprising to her to hear some music. Aesir loved music. They loved music and mead and they loved music to accompany a good battle. One of the greatest honors a battle could have was to have the exploit formed into a song. It shouldn't have surprised her to hear a horn or trumpet blowing. Many of the people of Kytheria were musicians. Many of Asgards famous bards and poets would retire to the seaside town of Kytheria. Surely, it was just one of the citizens among her troop who was playing a song. She kept her gaze forward and held on fast to the reins of her horse. They were moving at some haste. Her chariot rocked and rattled as the rode over the rough terrain. She could scarcely stand up and yet she urged the Captain to keep driving the company forward. They had no time to waste. They had to get to the Imperial City and fast. They had to save the people of Asgard and of all the Nine Realms and her beloved sons. She kept her eyes focused. She thought that they were making good time, but the sun was nearly up, and she only thought that she could see the tippy top of one of the castle spires shining over the mountaintops. Even then she couldn't be sure. It could just be trees. The queen gave a firm, "Ah-yah!" as she slapped the reins on the back on the horse and rove them a little harder. The horses rode harder and faster and all the while Frigga could still hear the persistent call of the horn ringing out over the sound of the troops. Finally, Queen Frigga managed to drive her horse up further toward the front of the battalion. The soldiers who had been assigned to protect the queen, the best soldiers that Kytheria had to offer scrambled to ride by the queen's side.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Come back!" they shouted from horseback.

Queen Frigga rode up to the very front of the line with the Captain of the Guard and the Commander of Communications. "My Queen!" the commander shouted startled to see the lovely royal woman.

"Commander," she nodded.

"Your majesty!" the captain now returned the same shock as he beheld the queen decked out in military regalia at her side. "What are you doing up here? You should be back in the center...where you can be protected," he expressed.

"Captain, can you hear that sound?" she asked as she cupped her hand to her ear.

The captain of the guard tried to listen, but between the men shouting and talking to one another, the horses neighing and the sound of their hooves thunderously pounding across the rocky ground and the wind whooshing around them and the roaring hum of the engines of their tanks he could hardly make out any other sound. "Your majesty, this company is far too loud, I hear nothing out of the ordinary," he explained.

"Don't you hear that commander?" Odin's wife asked.

The commander of communications listened more intently. He had been versed in many forms of military communication. He did pick up on a faint sound. "I think I may hear a horn, Your Majesty," he went on his features twisting and straining as he made every attempt to hear.

"A horn?" The Captain of the guard started to roll his eyes. "My lady, I'd worry not about that. It could be anyone simply playing a song for morale sake," he shrugged.

"No," the commander shook his head. "It's a ram's horn, I can hear it," he insisted.

"It's military?" Asked the Captain.

"Yes," The commander nodded.

"Asgardians!" Queen Frigga exclaimed.

"It would seem. It has always been our fashion to use the ram's horn to communicate in the smaller towns and shires and it is common amongst Einherjar troops to still use them," he went on.

"Maybe it is another small militia forming a battalion," the royal woman expressed hopefully.

The Commander of Communications closed his eyes as they rode at a brisk pace. "I can't, can't quite make out what the horn is trying to communicate," he confessed after he exhaled a sharp breath.

"Or who it is that is blowing it," the Captain of the Guard countered. "Your Majesty," he turned his head to face his leader. "We cannot trust the horn," he warned her.

"It is clearly other Asgardians," said the queen.

"We can't trust that now, Your Majesty," he shook his head. Not in these times. These are war times! Loki knows our every secret; he knows our every way. He could be doing this to lure us in," the Captain of the Guard suggested. Queen Frigga's facial expression hardened for a minute. Queen Frigga had tried to believe with her whole heart that there was still some remnant of goodness inside of Loki. She knew that her son was good... at least...she wanted to believe...wanted to hope, but he'd done so much...so much evil. Was she really hoping for too much? She knew that only Loki could have sent the message to the Southern Palace. Only Loki would know the emergency codes of the old frequencies. She'd tried to hide the sinking fear that gnawed at her belly that maybe Loki, her beloved son, master trickster was playing the cruelest trick of all, luring them. Bringing the army to the Imperial City to sucker them in only to trap them, ambush them and ultimately kill them. She gulped as the captain's words made that thought all too real. "The worst kind of enemy is a traitor, my queen," confessed the captain.

Queen Frigga shook her head. She tried to wipe the horrible thought from her mind. "We have to at least see...it could be other Aesir who want to join us," she countered.

"Your Majesty we can't risk it," the captain shook his head.

"We need every man and woman possible for this mission, Captain, you know that," the queen insisted.

Just as the Captain of the guard was about to rebuttal the queen's argument, they saw a group of soldiers rushing up on them. They were running, racing toward them frantically. They were yelling and hooting and waving their arms about wildly and still blowing the horn. They could scarcely make out their faces as the darkness of night still hadn't broken. There were only a few faint races of first light that were trying to make their way through the heavy, dense Aether ash clouds. The light reflected off the armor and weapons that the other soldiers bore.

"It's an ambush!" the Captain of the Guard shouted back over his shoulder to the Queen's men.

"Ambush!" Queen Frigga gasped as she readied her shield. "Captain are you quite sure?" Frigga asked.

"What else could it be?" he asked breathlessly as he drew forth his sword.

"That's an Aesir military call," the commander stated. The rams horn sounded much closer. "It is a call of friendship," He pointed out.

"It's a trap!" snapped the Captain of the Guard. "Where are the archers?" he yelled once more.

"Archers are on standby, captain!" yelled an officer who was riding a few feet behind him. "Bring the cavalrymen to the front!" the queen's captain ordered. All of a sudden the company broke ranks. Some of the men on horseback did a flanking maneuver and rode around the sides of the battalion to the front of the line." Company halt!" yelled the Captain of the Guard. The order spread through the ranks of soldiers and civilians until the force that was traveling with the queen all came to an abrupt stop.

"Captain, please," Queen Frigga called over the shouting and clapping of iron and screeching wheels. "I trust your military prowess, but I am not sure..." she started.

"Your Highness," started the Commander of Communication he rode up a little closer to the queen's golden chariot. "I believe that the captain may be right. The messages we received from the catacombs were incredibly encrypted, even my men could not truly interpret them," he expressed.

"I was able to interpret them, commander," Queen Frigga reminded the officer. "They were a code I knew!" she pointed to herself. "A code of the royal household." she declared unto him. "A code I taught my sons," she blurted out in defiance. Then immediately regretted it. Had she not been Queen of Asgard she would have hung her head in shame.

"That's just it, your Majesty, you have admitted that you taught your sons and its possible that Loki has used this code to lure us all into a terrible trap," the Commander of Communications explained.

"It doesn't have to be Loki," the royal wife of King Odin responded. "It...it...it...could have been someone else. It...it...It could have been...Prince Thor," Queen Frigga offered. It was flimsy even she felt it as her heartbeat started to quicken within her chest. Her hands were slick on the reins of her horses' bridle. In her heart she knew that her oldest son had never had much interest in learning those sorts of things. Unlike Loki, Loki had a voracious appetite to learn everything. He had that sort of wisdom. It filled her heard with dread to think that this could all be coming back to bite them. Would Loki really have set such a wicked trap before them? She didn't want to believe it. But Loki had changed so much. He was a far cry from the little toddler who sat on her knee playing in her hair and jewelry. He was no longer the gifted little boy who she schooled in mysticism or the witty youth or gentle and wise young man he had once been. Loki's very nature was that of a trickster, she couldn't put it pass him. But it broke her heart to think it could be true.

"But Prince Thor is most likely trapped in the dungeons. And you know that there is no access to communication down there, my queen," the commander went on.

"But it still could have been someone else, commander," the Queen refused to give in. She knew it was none other than her son Loki, but perhaps in the captains could be persuaded that it was someone different they wouldn't be ready to set themselves to the offensive. They had halted the company. They didn't have time for this. If it wasn't a trick, they had to make great haste to get to the Imperial City before dawn. They had just about an hour and the palace was still miles away.

"Who, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Almost all of the royal household and court fled with your highness to the Southern Palace."

"Oh... Oh...Oh...I don't know," the queen started muttering. She was shaking her head bitterly. "Sigyn..." she offered. Her voice a whisper.

The commander blinked his eyes, nearly dumbfounded by the queen's suggestion. He could picture Lady Sigyn well. She was certainly a beautiful young woman, but she always seemed like such an emptyheaded giggling schoolgirl he couldn't imagine that she could have done anything of the sort.

"ARCHERS! Prepare to shoot your arrows" The Captain shouted at the top of his lungs. He was straining his voice so that it could be hear from the front of the line to the very rear a hundred rows back. "CALVALRY! Prepare to strike!" he yelled to the men who and ridden to be by his side on in front of him...

"Your Majesty, you must get back to the center, where you can be protected" the commander stated. He raised his arm and his shield in front of the wife of Odin to protect her. "Soldiers!" he shouted to the men who had been tasked with riding to protect the queen. They immediately manifested themselves on horseback and were by the queen's side ready to escort her back to the center of the battalion.

One of them grabbed the bridle of the queen's horse to pull it and lead it back. "Come this way, your highness," he urged her along. The horse started to trot behind the soldier. Still, Queen Frigga twisted herself around in her chariot looking at the shadowy figures kept fast approaching. Her heartbeat like a drum as she watched the archers raise their arrows and bows high into the air ready to strike.

The captain was counting down. "On my signal men!" he called out to them. "1...2...3"

"WAIT!" Queen Frigga cried out. She maneuvered her chariot away from the guards who were protecting her and raced it in front of the captain.

"Your Majesty!" He gasped.

"Wait!" the queen cried one out once more. She put her hand in front of her Captain of the Guard and between the approaching shadowy figures. The Captain of the Guard's eyes were wide with amazement at the queen's gesture. As he halted mid swing, for he was about to brandish his sword and swing and strike the man who was running upon the queen.

While one hand was extended toward the captain stopping him in his orders. Her other hand was stretched out toward the silhouettes of the people rushing toward them. One of those shadowy figures took the queen's hand and scooped it up toward his lips and kissed it.

The royal wife turned around and smiled down fondly as the torches revealed the handsome face of one of the legendary Warriors Three. "Oh, Your Majesty, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," said the blonde-haired swordsman as he gave the queen a wink.

"Frandal!" she gasped and smiled affectionately at her son's friend

"In the flesh, my lady," he once again flashed a charming smile.

The Queen of Asgard turned her head to the side and glanced at Heimdal, "Oh Master Heimdal, thank goodness you are here!"

"My Queen," the stately gatekeeper stated as he reached up and took the woman's hand. He brought her delicate hand to his forehead just as he took a knee to bow in reverence. "My lady, have you come alone?" the Gatekeeper asked. His glowing, golden eyes looked around the company that was riding with the queen was quite vast, but there was one face that he longed to see which was not present.

"Where is the King?" asked one of the younger palace guards who was with them. His face was lit up and happy. "Has our king recovered?" He questioned. He was a round face fellow with dark, floppy hair. "Will Odin ride with us?" He asked eagerly. He looked around at some of his fellow soldiers to see if they shared his eagerness. He knew it was a great honor to be chosen to be a palace guard. His uncle was a palace guard and he had always admired the man greatly. To be in changed with protecting the royal family was a great honor. Although most of the times guards lived what would be considered a life of anonymity in regard to the royal family. He had hardly even stated two words to the great king of Asgard let alone ride into battle with him.

"Your Majesty?" Heimdal's voice was low and deep as he waited for the queen's response to the question.

"King Odin is not here, young warrior," Queen Frigga sated calmly with a bowed head.

"Does Odin still live?" asked another one of the soldiers as he took a deep gulp.

Queen Frigga closed her eyes. She could feel a lump forming in her throat. Her heart racing face and so fast that she could feel it pulsating in her ears. "When I last saw the king..." Frigga's voice broke. It quivered slightly. "He was beyond my reach..." she expressed. "He was further...deeper down in the Oversleep than I have ever seen...I...I... I" Queen Frigga tried to hold her voice steady. She held on to the handlebars of her golden chariot tightly. "I knew when I left that there was nothing more that medicine could do for him," she whispered. She was quivering ever so slightly. It was nearly imperceptible to any eye besides that of Heimdal, but Frandal who was standing at the queen's side with his hand on hers could feel her faint trembling. He gave her hand a firm squeeze. Queen Frigga returned the gesture and slightly leaned in closer to Frandal. She had known Frandal all his life. He had grown up along her two sons. He spent so much time playing in the palace that he was closer to her than her own natural born nephews. She looked at him fondly. He was so much like Thor; handsome and strapping a talented warrior, both were irresistible to women.

Frandal had inherited such traits from his father he supposed. His father, a proud noble of the Imperial City who served as a magistrate had many women. He was a handsome man just like his son. He had a lovely wife, Frandal's mother, but he couldn't be faithful to her. She was a proud woman and she would not tolerate being made a fool of by having an unfaithful husband, she divorced him. Although divorces were greatly frowned upon in Aesir society especially one initiated by the wife, she took the stigma and the financial loss. For a woman who was divorce forfeited all the titles and lands back to her husband. She was an artist by trade. She made lovely ceramics and even though she was no longer a courtier she did well for herself and was able to maintain a luxurious lifestyle within the city. Not wanting her own son to be denied the rights of nobility she did not fight for custody of her first born. She allowed him to live mostly his father. Although Queen Frigga understood his mother's reasoning sometime, she wished she would have tried to work things out with the magistrate. The poor man turned to the drink and continued to have a steam of mistresses. He eventually took on another wife, she was equally as beautiful as Frandal's mother, but even still he took on mistresses, but this woman was more devoted to the life of a courtier and maintained the veneer of a happy marriage. Sometimes Queen Frigga felt bad for young Frandal although his stepmother was kind to him, and he still had the love of his biological mother he never truly was able to see a fruitful and devoted marriage. Hence the young Casanova was a proclaimed bachelor. "it will be alright, my queen," Frandal whispered. She continued to squeeze his hand and looked at him with tenderness in her blue irises. She bobbed her head and held back the lump in her throat that was thickly wedged there. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It was a kiss that she wished she could give to Thor...or.

"Heimdal, can you look and see the fate of our king, we have no way to receive word," requested the Captain. Heimdal mashed his thick, brown lips together. He nodded as he too took a deep gulp. He started to place his hand to his temple in concentration and to focus his gaze toward the far beyond. The thought that Odin, all-father, his king, his friend could have slipped from this one life and into the next at this grave time without him being aware frightened him. He was never one to bear his emotions on his sleeves, but as he focused his gaze a scowl graced him face.

"NO," Queen Frigga demanded. She held up her hand commandingly. "No," She stated softer now. "We need not know," she shook her head.

"But, Your Majesty..." the commander interrupted.

She shook her head again. She closed her eyes. "Let us keep the hope that the king..." her voice drifted off. "Odin can't help us now," she confirmed.

There was a long moment of silence amongst the queen and the leaders of the battalion. "Captain, what were you about to do with that sword?' asked Frandal his tone jovial as ever. Breaking up the awkward pause. The kibitzing blonde could always be counted upon to lighten up any mood.

The captain bristled slightly and then straightened himself up. He cleared his throat, "General you have no idea how happy I am to see it's you," he said wiping his brow. He turned to the rest of the queen's guards who were under his command. "Aren't we happy, men?" he called to them. There was a roaring cheer as the battalion hopped from horse back and ran to greet their friends and comrades.
"You all could have been killed! We thought you were Dark-Elves," expressed the commander of Communications.

"We were blowing the rams horn," The trumpeter amongst the small group of Einherjar who were with the fleeing Asgardians stated as he held up the twisted and gnarled ivory looking horn.

"Well we couldn't be too sure," the commander began as he scratched under his chin. "It could have been the Dark-Elves being that have Loki on their side...he knows all of our ways..."

"You need say no more commander," Frandal held up his hand. "Honestly," he began. He looked around with playfully, shifty eyes, "we thought the same thing," he leaned over and whispered in his ears. "It wasn't until we saw that the queen's standard was flying high that we realized who you were," he crossed his arms and nodded.

"Heimdal, surely you could see us from a far off," Queen Frigga chimed in.

From his kneeling position, he hung his head, "I'm sorry, my lady, I have failed you and all of Asgard on so many levels," he sighed. "I believe that the power of the Aether that permeates the atmosphere in these clouds has caused my own vision to be clouded also being so far from the Bifrost..." he shook his head.

Queen Frigga's face formed a gentle smile. Her hand swooped down to cup the warrior's cheek and chin. She raised his head so that his bright golden eyes gazed into her piercing blue ones. "My friend, you haven't failed any of us. You are one of our greatest warriors and we need you in this fight," she esteemed him.

"Truly, if it wasn't for Queen Frigga's wisdom, we would have openly attacked you. Our own soldiers," the commander of communications shook his head.

"The Norns have seen fit to bless Asgard with many great gifts and one is having the wisest queen of all," Heimdal stated and kissed Queen Frigga's hand.

"I don't understand..." The captain of the guard shook his head. "We thought you all were trapped in the city,"

"We were able to hide in the catacombs and some of us escaped," one of the soldiers spoke up.

"And what of the people?" Queen Frigga asked with a lump forming in her throat.

"Don't worry, Your Majesty, many of the people evacuated with us," Frandal explained. "They are just off yonder," He pointed and shaded his eyes as he looked toward the distance. Queen Frigga followed the young warrior's pointed finger and she thought that she could make the slight form of a huddled mass, shaped like a child's squiggly line drawings dotting the horizon. Queen Frigga touched her hand to her heart. It meant everything to know that the dear citizens of the Imperial City were safe.

"We have nearly 2000 with us, Majesty," a bald solider commented as he saluted her. The Warrior had never had the honor of speaking to the queen before.

"That's it? That's all the survivors that you have?" the Captain of the guard was beyond alarmed. He looked back at more of his men. Faces immediately washed white and became stricken. Queen Frigga's eyes were wide.

"No, no, that's all we could evacuate," another tried to explain.

"Many were far too injured to be moved, Your Highness," Heimdal whispered to the queen. "We didn't want to risk their lives. The other stayed back in the catacombs to be rounded up by the Dark-Elves." he went on to explain. He looked up and could see the quizzical face on the Captain of the Guard. "It was for Prince Thor that we did that...so that those who stayed behind could make enough of a ruckus to free Prince Thor. Now with your army joining us Queen Frigga I'm sure our odds are much better."

"How many men do you have?" Frandal asked. He peered over the Queen's shoulder. He squinted his eyes. It was dark out still. The rays of first light barely able to push through the impenetrable darkness caused by the Aether ash. He saw what seemed to be large numbers. It seemed like hundreds of soldiers.

"These are the faithful from Kytheria," Queen Frigga pointed. "Most are the men and women of the city who have agreed to risk their lives to save Asgard.

"I believe it will still take all of Your Majesty's forces and then some if we are going to defeat Loki, the Dark-Elves and the Aether," Heimdal explained. He looked the queen intently at the Queen of Asgard as he said those words. Heimdal had known Queen Frigga for more than 2000 years. He knew how much she loved being a mother. Her heart ached when she and Odin were newly married, and she was unable to conceive right away. She loved both her sons. Heimdal knew that. He'd watched her as a mother, ever tender in her guidance and steadfast in her love and firm in her instruction of both of the young princes, but somehow her bond with Loki was different. He came from a family of 9 siblings, himself and although memories of his childhood seemed a distant dream, he remembered his own mother's love being divided among the 10 children. He wondered what had made Frigga love Loki is such a special way, perhaps it was because she had lost so many children by the time Loki came along, perhaps it was because he was sickly as a babe, perhaps it was because of the way he naturally clung to her and his love for learning and how he'd been a mage, or perhaps it was because she wanted him to feel like no less her son than Thor. Their bond was so strong. He didn't know if Queen Frigga could bring herself to let them do what needed to be done to save Asgard.

Queen Frigga's crystal blue eyes glazed over with an intense gaze. She looked Heimdal, that strong mountain of a man in his eyes, "I know," She said with a quick, sharp breath. Heimdal concentrated on her and he was sure he saw a quick tear trickle down her cheek. She turned her head to the side. She didn't wipe the tear away, but she let the wind blow it from her face. She turned back to face him. "We'll do whatever it takes," the Queen of Asgard declared as she squared her shoulders and stood proud and tall on her chariot. She placed her hand on Heimdal's shoulder.

"Your Majesty we should have your battalion meet up with the citizens of the Imperial City," expressed a pudgy and bald soldier.

"Yes, of course, to know that you are here, that you are riding toward the Imperial City to fight, it will give the people courage!" stated Frandal enthusiastically.

"It'll let them know that our cause truly isn't lost," Heimdal went on. "They will know that the Norns are on our side," he grinned up at the queen.

Queen Frigga nodded. "Yes," her head bobbed. "Of course, I would be happy to see the people...my people, let them know that I am alright and let them know that we have a mighty force that can take back the Imperial City,"

"Your Majesty," the Captain of the Guard called. "There isn't time!" he chided. "We...we have to get to the Imperial City by dawn," he reminded her.

Queen Frigga looked back at the Captain, he was handsome and staunch faced, and his brown eyes were wide unable the bear the thought of them not reaching the Imperial City in time. His eyes were compelling her. He'd not dare give his queen a command, but the earnestness in his pupils implored her not to veer from their present course. She swung her head, looked back at the soldiers, the brave soldiers who had been trapped in the Imperial City. The soldiers who had been there and watched their home burn. They had been protecting her people. Her battle worn and weary people, so many innocents who had no doubt seen annihilation and devastation like none had known or dreamt of. Her people who had watched their homes burn and their temples laid waste to, their schools and businesses turned to not, but ash. They'd been hurt so, both physically and mentally. She could only imagine how many of Asgard's dear citizens had suffered burns, lost limbs and eyes, had Aether ash fill their lungs to the point where they couldn't breathe, how many had suffered worst by watching their friends and family die right before their eyes, helpless. She had to see them if only for a moment to let them know that she had not forgotten them and that she was fighting for their cause.

"Sir Frandal, how long did it take the people to get this far?" she asked quickly.

"A couple hours, milady," he expressed as he counted on his fingers and then shrugged. "We were moving so fast..."

"Queen Frigga, please, we can't!" the captain insisted.

"We can spare a minute, Captain," the blonde-haired wife of Odin said sternly.

"No, we can't!" the Captain of the Guard pressured the queen once more. His voice strained as he spoke through his teeth. "Every minute we spare here has wasted precious time. Time that we don't have to spare Ragnarök is dangling over our heads!" he announced as he pranced in front of the queen on horseback and blocked her from looking at the motley crew of soldiers.

"Captain," the commander spoke up. He placed his hands on the captain's strong shoulders. "The people need to see their queen," he whispered in his comrades' ear. "If the worst should happen..."

The captain immediately pulled his broad shoulders from out of his fellow soldier's grasp. The worst will happen if we don't get to the Imperial City!" the captain shot back. "Your Majesty as your Captain of the Guard I really must insist! We must ride on. Your son's life hangs in the balance. The future of Asgard! The fate of the Nine Realms...we...you... you can't risk that."

"Captain," Queen Frigga turned around to face the military man who was dressed clad in his military regalia. "I want you and your forces to continue to ride through the hill pass and get to the Imperial City as quick as you can. I will need a few of the militiamen to join me as I greet the people briefly," she expressed.

"But Your Majesty, why?" asked the Captain of the Guard as he shook his head. "Those brave men and women came to fight for Asgard on this glorious day! Why should we split our forces? We will need every man we can get to stop Malekith and Loki and the Aether!" he was practically panting.

"Captain," Queen Frigga eyes him. "It will be well," she assured the nervous guardsman as she touched his shoulder. These people have come to fight and defend Asgard and that includes protecting all our people. The people who have escaped the Imperial City need our help and our protection. I will not abandon any of my people," she explained to him sternly.

"Of course, your highness," the captain inclined his head and rode to assemble his men.

"Commander, please gather about 100 militiamen those who are skilled in medicine and those who know the woods and will be able to protect and help the injured among the escapees of the Imperial City."

"As you wish, my queen," the Commander of Communications stated with pride. He slapped his horses flank and rushed to the back of the ranks. He called out to the militiamen and told them of the queen's request. Many volunteered and he made quick work of choosing which should come with them. He came back quickly with several men and women on foot, some on horseback and others being pulled by ox and cart. "These are them, You Majesty," the Commander of Communications explained as he presented them to the royal woman. "Many of these people have stated that they are skilled in medicine or are wildness men," he pointed to the ragtag team of civilians. The men and women bowed and curtsied respectfully to their female sovereign. "They are ready and willing to serve you in whatever way possible, my lady," he explained rather breathlessly.

The Queen of Asgard nodded toward the brave citizens of her kingdom. How fortunate she was to rule over such a brave and strong people. "Very good," she commended the commander. "Let's move," she declared. "Those of you who are on foot please find a horse or cart to ride upon, we do not have much time," she stated and then turned her attention toward the front. She was pleased to see that the Captain of the Guard and the vast majority of their force was riding off at a swift pace toward the Imperial City.

Heimdal came up on the queen's side as she clicked the reigns on her horses and got them moving. "Your Majesty are you sure this is the course of action that you want to take?" he asked in a low tone. "Perhaps the captain was right...dawn swiftly approaches and saving Prince Thor's life is paramount to Asgard's survival," he expressed.

"Our people need this Heimdal, I still have to be queen to all the people of Asgard, Lord Heimdal," Queen Frigga stated. Heimdal's golden eyes shined as he stared up at Odin's wife. There were many women who had been presented to Odin over the years when he was of courting age. All of them had been equally lovely. They had all been from powerful, well connected families throughout the Nine Realms. In the eyes of many anyone of them would have been a splendid queen, but Asgard was truly blessed that Odin had chosen Frigga as a spouse. "Still I don't intend to waste time that we don't have," she stated as she looked down at him. She saw the twinkle in his eye. "Care to hop on," she offered her chariot as she offered her hand as well. His large hand immediately clasped hers as he hopped on the back of the chariot. They rode on a little further ahead and slowly scooped up more of the warriors who had been leading the people out of the Imperial City. At least they saw Frandal, he had been jogging mightily keeping up stride with the stallions. Queen Frigga turned to her son's friend and called to him, "Hey need a lift?"

Frandal swung his head around. The queen seemed to tower over him from her position of riding high upon her chariot. He white horses drew the gilded vehicle and she sat with her royal helmet upon her head. The beautiful plumage that stuck out the helmet and her blinding white armor, well, she looked every inch the legendary warrior queen that Asgard was in desperate need of at the moment. Her hair was caught up in her helmet and her face was dirty from the road, but she was lovely as ever. Frigga eyes Frandal curiously as her kept up and impressive stride in time with her own thoroughbred mares. Frandal noticed the way she was looking at him, quizzical and perplexed. Her shook himself from the thoughts of admiration that he had for the wife of Odin. "Why don't mind if I do, Your Majesty," he laughed and chuckled and finally released a breath to admit how tired he was of running. Heimdal reached out his hand and caught Frandal by the arm. The mighty guardian effortlessly lifted the swordsman from the ground and swung him onto the back of the large chariot where the other warriors were. "Ah, much obliged, your highness," he stated with a debonair smile as he removed his helmet toward the royal female.

They made haste and they arrived to meet the frightened and bone-weary citizens from the Imperial City as they stood out on the jagged cliffs and hills. Queen Frigga could see them as well, the people standing in the distance their bodies dotting the hills like twisted shrubbery. Her heart ached for them. Those of her people so noble and most peasants, some rich and some poor, some husbands and wives and sons and daughters, some young and some old, some wise and foolish, but all had been living their lives normally just a few weeks ago all had thought that they were safe inside the strong fortified walls of the Imperial City. Their security had been shattered and their paradigms had not been crushed. She felt responsible. Because she was their queen, she was their all-mother who was supposed to be there to cover them to protect them. She hadn't been able to do that. She had done the complete opposite, she had let them enemy in, raised him at her side. Maybe all of this was truly her fault. Her mouth grew dry and her heart started to pound within her ears. She wanted to give them words. They deserved to hear words of comfort and security now more than ever. She saw them, they were getting closer by the second and they were coming more and more into her view. They were a wretched and huddled mass. They looked like shadows, like bones standing upon the hills. Their clothes were dirty and shabby, ripped to shreds, they were caked in mud from head to toe. Some had sacks on their backs and she could only imagine that they were carrying the remains of everything they owned. There were no horses or carriages among them. A few men had barrels hoisted over their shoulders. If she squinted, she could make out the bandages that were wrapped around their heads and torsos and legs. She saw several lined-up hobbling on crutches. It broke her heart. For a moment she thought she heard crying. She thought she heard bitter wailing of babes and women. She cracked the reins across the horses' back urging them driving them faster up the hillside toward the people. She longed to scoop one of Asgard's precious children up to her bosom and console the weeping child.

Her team of white mares led the way. She raced closer and closer toward the people. It was only the words of her old friend, Heimdal that called her from her panic. "See the people, Your Highness," he pointed out. His mahogany finger entered her field of view and pointed her gaze in the right direction. "The people see your banner," he told her. "They are cheering for you." he whispered in her ear.

He was right. They were. High on the not so distant foothills made of broken red and brown and gray rocks. On this dark, dark day when the ash of black clouds had spread far and wide out of the city limits and was making its way through the countryside. Even after the people of Imperial City had seen a destruction that was the thing of nightmares they were still standing, and they were calling out to her. They were cheering and clapping and being as loud as they could stomping their feet and banging on the barrels and clanking their swords together. They took off their tattered cloaks and shawls and waved them in the air and welcomed the sight of their queen and her small band.

She rode up to where they were. There were so many people. As far as her crystal blue eyes could see. They stretched on for at least a mile across the hills. Soon they were running down, rushing down the hill as best they could. They teetered and tottered and stumbled like young children. They were so eager to rush and greet the Queen of Asgard. They were shouting her name. Chanting her name. "Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!"

It seemed like about 100 of the men, women and children from the Imperial City all reached the queen at once. They practically bum rushed her chariot and the soldiers who had been tasked with protecting the queen immediately sprang to action. They leaped out of the chariot with their swords drawn and tried to push the people back. More and more came running down the hill. They came like a mighty flood like rushing water. They seemed like the meant to swamp the queen's royal chariot.

Frandal and a few of the other Einherjar who had been leading the people out of the Imperial City ran up in front of the queen's bodyguards and blocked them. "Put your swords down! Put your swords down!" he shouted in their faces. "You dare raise your sword against these people. Citizens of Asgard who have been through Helheim and back!" the golden-haired swordsman shouted.

The Guard proceeded to put his hands up pushing the people away. "General, our captain gave us strict order to protect the queen at all cost. The Queen has no business being out on the battlefield," he explained.

"You should count yourself blessed that you have a queen that is willing to fight by your side," Frandal growled back at the guard. He raised his saber high and then brought the weapon down on an angle to make the guard lose his grasp on the sword. His sword came crashing down onto the floor.

Queen Frigga was immediately at the side on the two opposing men. She placed her hand on both of their shoulders. Toward the guard her eyes held a soft albeit disappointed look to them. Truly, she had earned the title all-mother well for she could make any true son of Asgard feel ashamed of a misdoing with just a glance from her liquid irises. He quickly bowed his head in regret. "Your Majesty, you should remain on your chariot," he offered but he didn't bring his own brown eyes to meet her gaze.

"That will be quite enough of that, soldier," she stated sternly.

"Yes, my queen, I'm sorry forgive me," he apologized and bowed his head a little lower. The royal woman seemed satisfied with his answer. She patted him on the shoulder again and then turned her attention to Frandal. He quickly went to grab Queen Frigga's hand and started to escort her among the people. She walked with such dignity and grace and so effortlessly that one would have thought that she was walking down the grand staircase in the Imperial Palace into a ballroom rather than trying her best to traipse over rocks and rubble and grass and mud over hilly slopes. She held her head high with the air of refinement that only a true royal could muster. She never faltered. They people flooded around her. They clamored and reached out for her. They stretched their hands toward her. They were desperate to touch her, to make sure she was real. They came thronging toward her with such longing. They reached for her and Queen Frigga reached right back. She walked through the crowd taking their hands. She squeezed their dirty fingers and bloody knuckles tightly in her silky-smooth hands. Some kissed her rings and she walked by. Other wept and grabbed onto her cape. She didn't stop them. She knew many royal women who would not let the people touch them. Her dear friend Mulsha, Queen of the Dwarves didn't go anywhere without her 7 faithful squires and they were sworn to not let anyone touch their queen. Elbereth, was one of the Elfin Queens. She was of the Night Elves. She was known by her people as the "star queen" for she was so high, so lofty above them that it seemed as though they could never reach her. The Night-Elves had a beautiful city that glistened in the night like a jewel, yet their queen rarely saw it. She only stepped foot outside the palace a few times a year. Even Bestia, Odin's own mother who had also been well loved by the Asgardian people had also more withdrawn that Frigga during her reign. She had never wanted to be that kind of ruler. Perhaps it was because she was born in the hill country. Her family was noble and well off, but they lived like everyone else in the town. The town was too small to have much class distinction. She went to the same schools as other children and shopped in the marketplace like any commoner would.

"Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga! Queen Frigga!" an old woman cried as she came stumbling out the crowd. She had somehow managed to push pass the thick wall of people who were surrounding the queen and stumbled practically into the Queen of Asgard's arms. "Oh, your Majesty!" She cried. "It was awful. It was simply awful!" she blubbered against the queen's armor. Instinctively, the wife of Odin wrapped the Aesir elder in a tight embrace. She clung to her and let her weep for a little while. She stroked the elderly woman's hair. It was thick and curly and completely wild atop her head.

"I know, I know, mother," Queen Frigga stated.

The old woman looked up at the queen. Her eyes bloodshot red, her lips quivering. "I've lost everything, your highness, everything," she explained further

"I know, I know," Frigga continued to mutter sweetly to the old woman. She lowered her lips and planted a kiss on top of the woman's caked curled.

The old woman shook her head, once more looking up at Queen Frigga with awe and bewilderment. "What will happen to us, Your Majesty?" she continued to wail. Queen Frigga did her best to console the woman she continued to rub her back and whisper to her. Finally, another one of the citizens of Asgard came and pulled the woman away.

Frandal continued to guide her a little further through the thick of people and up the hill until she stood on a large white boulder. He helped her step up on to the boulder so that she could overlook the citizens. Frigga saw them. She tried to be strong. Not to let her lips quiver on her eyes moisten. She couldn't think of a time she had ever seen a crowd so wretched or horrid in all of Asgard. Maybe she'd seen those types of refugees come crawling to the gates of Asgard looking for asylum, but never had she seen Aesir in such a sorry state. They were dirty and tired and weak, yet there was a strength to be noted from most of them, they were carrying each other on their back, children carried other children, women helped support men. And most of the people still had some sort of weapon in their hand. They had their swords and bows and daggers, they had whips and chains, spears, metal rods, wooden planks and whatever they could get their hands on. In the hearts of the people there was still a fight to be had.

As Queen Frigga stood there, she listened to her people some wept for joy upon seeing her. They pressed their way to kiss her booted feet. They would look at her with trusting eyes like children questioning and wondering what was going to happen to them. "Norns save you Queen Frigga!" they would shout.

"Merciful Yggdrasil be praised!" other cried out as they sunk down to their knees and sobbed.

"Where is the king? Where is the king?" shouts seemed to roar from the crowd.

The golden-locked female rule of Asgard bit her lip as she raised her hands to silence the boisterous crowd of frightened civilians. Immediately, a hush fell over them. Parents calmed and settled their children and pulled them close and held them tight and hoisted them on their shoulders and those who were wailing managed to quiet themselves. "My people, my people," she called to them gently. "We don't have much time," she admonished them from the start. "Oh, dear people of Asgard, you have no idea how much good it does my heart to know that so many you are still alive," she began breathlessly. She took them in, they were a mass of muddy, tussled, bandaged and bloody waifs, but they were still there. "I feared...I had feared..." she muttered letting her voice trail off. She shook her head to disperse the tears that were pooling in her azure eyes. "At the Southern Palace, I kept getting reports of destruction," she expressed. "And I thought...I thought...well...I feared the worst," she admitted and took a deep gulp. "But seeing you all here...seeing Aesir children here..." she pointed up toward a little who was sitting on top of her father's shoulders, her little legs dangled and her dirty feet swung and she pointed excitedly toward the queen. The child's face was smiling despite all the devastation that the little girl's young eyes had managed to see. She was smiling. She was pointing and laughing and oohing and ahhing over the sight of the Queen of Asgard. She'd seen pictures and paintings and statues of the queen, but she'd never seen her up close and in person and she was so excited. She was waving vigorously at the queen, desperately trying to get the royal woman's attention. Queen Frigga noticed her and put up her hand and twinkled her fingers in the child's direction. She watched as the father of the little girl pinched her leg to stop her. The little girl kept on beaming. She felt special at being noticed by the queen. She was still so young. Maybe just over a century. Far too young to have had to see the horror and desolation of wore on the shores of her home world. "Our children," Queen Frigga continued to gesture broad and wide to all the children who were among those fleeing from the fallen city. "Our children are still here, they still live and as long as our children still live, we still have a future!" she swore to the people. She balled up her hand into a tight fist and then raised it high into the air. The people followed suit. "We will not slip quietly into the night!" she promised them. "We will fight!" she pledged. "I will fight!" she thumped on her breastplate. "I will fight to my last breath for you!" she pointed into the crowd of thousands. "I will lay down my life for you," she nodded.

"NOOOO!" the crowd roared.

"No! No! Queen Frigga don't go!" they called out.

"Your Majesty, please" Heimdal whispered as he approached from behind. "The people are right; you don't have to risk your life."

"I have no right to do anything less," she informed him and looked over her shoulder with a smile. "Please, please! My dear people," Queen Frigga started once more as she raised her hands to settle them. There protesting dwindled as they hushed themselves to listen to her words. "When I became Odin's wife, I took a solemn vow before the Norns I became the all-mother and a mother must be willing to lay down her life for her children," she insisted.

From the assembly came a shout, "And children should be willing to lay down their lives for their mother!" a deep voice replied.

Queen Frigga investigated the crowd, but it was hard to pick out faces. She didn't really have time to scan for the one voice that had erupted from in the midst of thousands for no sooner had the words been spoken than did everyone burst into cheers. They raised their hands and their voices and exploded into a wild applause. They raised their weakened arms and lifted their swords and bows and weapons as high as they could into the air. They waved their ragged cloaks like banners. Frigga's breath became caught in her throat. Her eyes misted as she heard the crowd of citizens begging her not to fight.

"WE LOVE YOU QUEEN FRIGGA!"

"WE LOVE YOU ALL_MOTHER!"

"LONG IVE OUR QUEEN!" they cried.

"I'll fight for you, my queen!" several pledged all at once as they sunk down to their knees. Some had to lower themselves down off crutches.

"I'll give all I have for you, your majesty" another woman rose up and stated. She waddled forward. Her pregnant belly exploded from her tattered tunics. Frandal's eyes grew wide as he gazed at her. He longed to go and rush to her side and scoop her up and then find somewhere soft for her to lay in her delicate condition. She was huffing and puffing, but somehow, she managed to push forward through the people and make her way to the forefront and take a knee before Queen Frigga.

Queen Frigga looked on the woman in horror. Her round and pretty face was bloody, cut up with a terrible gash. Her lip was split, and her eyes were blackened. Her leg looked like it was halfway broken. Queen Frigga immediately stepped down from off her elevated rock and went to the pregnant woman on her knees. The crowd gasped as they watched the beautiful queen in splendid armor step down and come to the battered pregnant woman, just a simple commoner. She stooped down with tenderness and stroked the young lady's mud caked hair. Before the royal woman could even allow her hand to graze the dirty mop of curls the woman reached up and took the queen's hand and kissed it. Queen Frigga indulged the gesture and then beckoned for the woman to rise. "You will, you will my child," Queen Frigga promised, but not in the way you think," she cautioned. The beautiful young Aesir maiden looked up at her queen perplexed.

"WE'LL FIGHT WITH YOU QUEEN FRIGGA!" the crowd roared and the wife of Odin noticed that even the little children were cheering and jeering and clapping their hands, but as she looked out among the group of tired and wearied Aesir. They had been through so much; they had been through too much. They were all on their last limbs, bloody wretches, weak and hurting. They had made it out alive. They were the lucky ones, the blessed ones. But so many of her people they weren't so fortunate. And it was her job to protect them. To watch over them and cradle them and shelter them just as she had watched over and protected her sons. One of her sons was lost. A shudder down her spine as she thought of Loki and what he had become. The other...well she was doing all within her power to save him and she had to do everything she could to save their lives. Any Asgardian would have been willing to lay down their lives for this very worthy cause, but she couldn't let them all die.

"My people, no!" Queen Frigga rebuked them quickly just before the cries could overwhelm her. "No! No! Please," she settled them down. "You all have fought!" she explained to them. "You all have fought well," she went on. "You've fought so well," Queen Frigga muttered and forgot to project her voice. "But now is your time to rest, your time to recover," she pressed them. She could see the resistance in their eyes, the fire forming in their bellies as they readied themselves to insist against what she was saying. "You all will retreat," she expressed.

"Aesir never retreat!" a voice bellowed from the assembly. His voice was followed by thunderous clapping.

"This is not a running away to retreat to cower and hide. This is retreating to survive to carry on and be who we are for 1000 more years and beyond!" Queen Frigga cast her gaze back to the young, pregnant Aesir woman before her. She took the young maiden by the hand and squeezed it tightly. Queen Frigga looked at the woman with tenderness and kindness in her royal blue eyes. She even gave a glimmer of a watery smile and the pregnant maiden returned it. "And you," she looked her in the eye and then clasped her hands tenderly around the young woman's dirty face. "You will serve Asgard so well," she prophesied with tears in her eyes. "But now by killing for Asgard," she cautioned. She wagged her finger gingerly in the woman's face. "But by living for Asgard and by bringing new life to her," the golden-haired wife of Odin smiled down affectionately at the woman's rounded belly. Her hand hovered over the other woman's rounded stomach for a moment until the young citizen gave her and emphatic nod and Queen Frigga placed her hand on the woman's stomach. She rubbed it and she could feel a strong eager kick coming from within the woman's womb. Queen Frigga knelt and kissed the woman's belly. The young woman shook her head in astonishment. Her lips moved and quivered as she begged the queen not to. Who was she that the wife of Odin should kiss her belly? She wasn't worthy. Her clothing was absolutely filthy. "You will live for Asgard," she whispered against the woman's navel. Soon she rose and she went back to facing the people of Asgard who had just escaped from the Imperial City. "And each of you will live for Asgard!" she promised them. "And you will tell your children about this day! About this glorious day!" she pledged to them. "As your Queen, my command to you is this, that you go with these fellow citizens of Asgard from Kytheria," she pointed to militiamen. "They like you have been willing to risk their lives, but many of them are skilled healers, woodsmen and cooks and they will care for the injured among you and lead you to safety in the woods," she explained.

The militiamen from Kytheria immediately took their places. They integrated and interwove through the crowd of refugees from the Imperial City. Immediately, they started to check over the infirmed and elderly and helped to mount them on horses and carts. "We'll take care of them, Queen Frigga," a female healer stated. She was the one who went over to the young pregnant woman. The group started to move along.

"Your words were quite stirring my queen," Heimdal said with a smile face as Queen Frigga turned to face him.

"I meant every word of it, my friend," she told her husband's most trusted warrior.

"What do you wish of us, Your Majesty?' asked Frandal. He saluted his queen and stood proud and tall. "Should we travel with the people the rest of the way?" he asked as he saw the large group of refugees starting to make their way up the hills once more.

"These people need some protection," Queen Frigga admitted. The weary group of citizens from the Imperial City was in no position to defend themselves against the wiles of the forest or against an enemy attack. She had requested healers and medicine men and woodsmen and cooks to come and accompany the citizens of the Imperial City, but she hadn't asked for the most skilled warriors. The truth was that they were all militiamen. None were professional soldiers. Although she had no doubt each of the brave Aesir citizens from Kytheria were fighters, they still would need the assistance of the Einherjar. "I think it would be best if some of the Einherjar stayed behind to assist with the civilians," she expressed.

"Of course, Majesty" Master Heimdal immediately replied. "I agree time is of the essence, but I do not put it pass Loki or Malekith to try to attack even these refugees," his brown hand gestured toward the fragile, shaken souls who were trying to make their way to safety.

"I'll assign a few men to the task, our ranks are small, but I'll see who is willing to stay behind with the citizens. As you can imagine, my lady, all the Einherjar are itching to fight and defend Asgard and of course fight by the side of our illustrious queen," remarked young Sir Frandal. He flashed the royal woman a porcelain smile that flashed like lightning from beneath his dirty smudged face and then gave the queen a sweeping bow. He took the wife of Odin by the hand once more and allowed his lips to plant a kiss there.

Queen Frigga had to do all that was within her power to keep from rolling her eyes, "Oh you," she turned to the brave young Einherjar. When she looked at him, she couldn't help, but still see the charming little boy who had been the playmate of her sons. She shook her head and tapped him on the nose to dismiss him. As she looked at Frandal she wondered what would happen when she encountered Loki. She sighed and then gulped thinking to herself...if she encountered Loki. She liked the sound of if much more. Although the sound of it was preferable in her head, but somehow, she knew that it wasn't an if situation. She was a seer after all. At least she had been in her youth. She knew how the Fates worked. She would see him. She had to see him. The question was when she saw him. When she looked in his eyes. Those deep, jade green eyes, she wondered if she would see someone that she would recognize. Would she still see those bright emerald students of her wide eyes, inquisitive, talented little boy who had loved her so, or would she simply stare into the soulless crystal eyes of a monster.

"My Queen?" Heimdal questioned noting her silence. "Is everything still well for you? Do you wish to stay with the people?" he offered her once more. Truth be told he would have preferred it.

"No. No." Frigga immediately responded as she broke from her sad trance. She turned her head to watch as Frandal hurried away toward a group of soldiers. Heimdal quickly aided Queen Frigga "I...I... I will go and fight with are warriors," she said resolutely. "It's what Odin would have wanted."

"I beg to disagree, milady, I have known my king well, he would never wish for you to be in harm's way. Nor do I," he stated.

"Perhaps, not, but Odin would have ridden into battle. He would have fought for Asgard with his last breath. He would have given everything to save our son," she replied.

"Yes," Heimdal acknowledged. They had made their way off of the rocks and were on more even ground where the queen's chariot was parked. The bodyguards took to assisting the queen on the chariot.

"We are one," she expressed with a sigh. She put on her helmet. "I will do the same," she stated. Heimdal's thick lips started to purse, his brow furrowed, but he didn't protest the Queen of Asgard. Just then, Frandal returned. He jogged toward the queen's gilded chariot. "Back so soon?" Queen Frigga smiled as she saw the young Einherjar leaping over the rocks and rubble and headed her way.

"I'm ready to serve with you, milady," he stated immediately.

"I should have known," Queen Frigga shook her head as one of the young soldiers from the Southern Palace passed the reins to the queen.

"Well your Majesty this is too great of a day for me not to be a park of the action," the swordsman replied as he pulled out his saber.

"We'll need every fine sword possible in battle," One of the bodyguards agreed.

"Naturally," Frandal beamed. He ran his fingers back through his blonde locks. "And of course, it doesn't hurt that the finest sword also happens to finest Einherjar in all of Asgard!" Frandal exclaimed as he ran his dirty fingers around the profile of his handsome face.

"Not to mention the humblest," muttered the gatekeeper as he mounted on top of Queen Frigga's chariot as well.

Frandal's lips were quirked in as smug a grin as ever. "Well if we are all about to die anyway the truth might as well be known," he remarked.

"Let us hope that the Norns have not ordained for us all to meet up together only to perish," Heimdal stated.

"We can only pray," Queen Frigga stated as she kept her eyes focused on the horizon where the sun seemed to be trying to make an appearance beyond the Aether clouds. She patted on of her white stallions on the neck and the horses started to race toward the Imperial City.

---

Queen Frigga's Captain of the Guard and the soldiers and volunteers from Kytheria arrived to the outside of the Imperial City. They were just outside the high gates made old gold intertwined with star-steel from Nidavellir to make the beams and gorgeous multicolored gems that made up the design of the gate. The gate was grand breathtaking and awe-inspiring to all who laid eyes upon it. The gates of the stretched 100 feet high. They were indestructible. They had stood for thousands of years. They had been sieged with catapults and battering rams and by giants and bilgeschnipes and they'd been set fire too, but they'd survived. They'd always survived. They were the first line of defense for the Aesir living in the Imperial City. They were demolished. The remnants of the stones laid shattered like glass. The beams and bars of the gate were bent and withered like the structure was a ruin.

The whole of Queen Frigga's force stood outside the gate looking upon the decimation with horror. "I didn't think it would be this bad, sir" the Commander of Communications admitted her brought his armored brown horse up to where the Captain was stationed. The Captain simply stared out at the vast amount of devastation. The Imperial City. A city that was fabled for its light and beauty. A city that stood the test of eons and never aged now was a smoldering cauldron. The dark shadow of the Aether covered the entirety of the city. And everything was on fire. Everything was burning from top to bottom. The temples and palaces were going up in flames. The banks and schools were sizzling away, homes and markets and everything was incinerated.

Amongst the soldiers, particularly the militiamen, screams arose. "It's awful," the commander muttered. He couldn't break his eyes from staring at the vast amounts of fire that seemed to lap up everything in sight. There was a hellish red haze from the Aether ash that rained down from the thick black Aether clouds. It fell heavy and thick in sheets and when the flecks of Aether ash rained down and touched onto any surface it started to burn it up.

"They'll be nothing left," stated Queen Frigga's Captain. He shook his head not able to break his trance as he saw so many of his favorite places going up in smoke. He could see the Floating Gardens. Everyone loved the Floating Gardens. Children played there; lovers walked there. Minstrels played there. There were rides and ponds that hovered in the sky. There were fruit trees, wonderful fruit trees and shady groves. The fruit was free, and people could just pick it right off the trees and eat it. It was always sweet and succulent and ripe to perfection. He had been courting a maiden once. She was a fisherman's daughter from Kytheria, and she had always dreamed of spending a day in the Floating Gardens. He took her. They broke up, it was her idea more than his, but in the end, she told him that they'd always have that beautiful day that they'd spent on the Floating Gardens. Now they didn't even have that. He gulped and licked his lips as finally allowed his eyes to blink so that he could look away from the horrific sight of an island in the sky, engulfed in flames. It looked like a comet hurling toward them and ready to strike. +

"Only if we don't act," the commander replied. "We should try to establish communication. Let the queen know that we're here," the commander called over the angry and horrified screams of the soldiers.

The captain shook his head, "She knows where we were headed. She expects us to be here. We need to make sure that we have fulfilled our purpose in coming here. We don't have much time. None whatsoever actually," The captain confirmed. "We have mere minutes til dawn," he stated as he turned to face the other leader. "We have to make our way to the city center...to the town square. No doubt that's where they'll be heading to execute Prince Thor," he explained.

The commander nodded. All the while he was starting to sweat so much that he thought that his armor would rust. It wasn't merely from the sweltering heat of the inflamed city. He had never been on the frontline of a battle this intense. He was a communication specialist. His division was for making sure that they had the intelligence they needed for battle. He spent his time in special out coves, tents, and towers breaking codes and routing signals, possibly making sure that messages were able to deliver anyway possible. He had trained well in his younger years for the heat of war, but now that it was upon him, he wasn't sure that he should be here on the frontlines. He shook himself. Asgard didn't need men of doubt, they needed men of action. "That's true, Captain. Loki wants an audience. He's an arrogant bastard," the commander spat. Saying the scoundrel's name was like a curse. "He'll use the screens that are set up in the town square to broadcast Thor's execution to all of the cities and provinces in Asgard.," the commander stated." If the people see that, then Asgard is all but lost," he explained

"If Prince Thor is murdered Asgard is lost and so are the Nine Realms," the Captain of the Guard replied sternly.

"The intelligence that came through state that the people would be divided into 3 groups. We found the one group, the escapees. Some our going to be hidden in the catacombs, the wounded and sick and then the others gave themselves up to be captured and taken to the town square,"

"No doubt, that's where Lady Sif and Volstagg will be. We can rendezvous with Lady Sif and Asgard's other warriors. With all of us fighting together there is no way that Loki and Malekith can win," the Captain expressed. "Let's alert the men."

"We should split the men up," the commander noted. "Too many of us will draw attention. It will look like an invasion. Loki is too smart not to have some of the Dark Elves posted around the city to be on the look out."

"We can stagger the entry of the soldiers a few at a time. Send then down different alleyways and paths if a few meet with resistance and trouble it will not hinder the progress of the whole attack. "The tanks, drills and catapults should remain outside of the city. We can leave them here. We can leave 200 or so with them."

"I think that we should leave most the militiamen," stated the Commander of Communications

"They volunteered for this they want to fight just as much as any solider," the Captain of the Guard stated he looked out over the vast array of people that they had. He started to number them.

"But they are not soldiers," the commander countered. "I'm not saying that they should not have the opportunity to fight for Asgard and for their prince if the chance arises, but we should not simply be willing to sacrifice them or allow them to rush headlong into the most vicious and brutal battle that any of us has ever known," he shook his head. "Look at what has happened here," he pointed to the metropolis that was being consumed by flames. "Look how many citizens have already died. We have to protect as many as we can," he stated firmly.

The Captain of the guard ran his fingers through his beard. He finally nodded. "Alright. We can leave 50 of my guards with the some of the militiamen, but those who want to go into the city may, we should not deny them the chance to have great songs sung about them," the captain winked.

The communications expert allowed a glimmer of a grin to cross his face before he puckered his lips and blew into a horn. He blew into the horn alerting the soldiers to break themselves up into smaller factions and divisions to move out into the Imperial City. He then rode through the ranks and told 150 militiamen to stay behind, outside the city. They would await a signal that he "would devise and so then they could use the larger more powerful weapons only if absolutely necessary to lay siege.

"Soldiers! MOVE OUT!" the Captain of the Guard ordered. Immediately the soldiers started to splinter off. Queen Frigga's captain led a small group of able-bodied foot soldiers pass the shattered city gates. "Put your helmet visors down and used your cloaks as shields for your nose and mouth, the Aether ash is too thick to breathe." the Captain of the Guard instructed.

He took the first group of his warriors in through the city. At first, they tried to ride into city with the horses. The strong powerful thoroughbreds were covered in armor and decorative cloth. They were wearing gold and Queen Frigga's colors. A few of the stallions were unicorns who were trained for battle. Their beautiful horns on their head had been crested with white gold and sharpened like a two-edged sword. They could drive the tips of their horns through even the toughest armor and impale an enemy on the battlefield. The Captain of the Guard thought that it would be a good idea to come in with the stallions leading the charge. They could burst into the town square and catch the Dark-Elves unaware. The horses leaped over the mounds and mounds of rubble. Beautiful buildings made of silver and gold and sparkling limestone. Shards of iron and steel stuck out of the ground like strange shrubbery all around. The soldiers pushed the horses, telling them to leap and dart and avoid the glass and debris, but the wind started wiping. It blew the red flecks of the Aether all around. The unicorns started to grow frantic, the ash was too thick, the horses couldn't breathe, and they couldn't see. They whinnied and neighed in horror. Many started to rear on their hind legs and the kicked their front legs about wildly in the air. They bucked about like wild broncos, like bildeschnipes and threw their riders off their backs. They were driven mad. They ran away. They tore through the city in a blaze. Some of the horses ran right into the flames.

"THE HORSES!" some of the men yelled. Many of them ran back out of the city gates. Some of the steeds had fire lapping at their saddles or hanging from their lapels and plumes and the beautiful decorative sashes that they wore. The crazed animals started rushing out toward the hills just overlooking the city where the rest of the troops were gathered. The other soldiers and volunteer recruits start fanning and flapping trying to block the horses. They tried to harness them, tried to bridle them and ran them back in but the frightened beasts were too panicked to hear the commands of the soldiers. They would tear away when a man or a woman tried to catch them.

"They're on fire! They're on fire!" screamed out one young Kytherian Aesir maiden. She ran over to one of the beautiful unicorns. He was dark as night. But the bright, orange flames caught on to the horse's tail. The animal was hollering with neighs. He was bucking, kicking up his hind feet flailing in every direction. The horse tore through the thick bands of recruits. The horse's tail was swishing and waving all about as it ran about, and it started setting fire to the carts and to barrels of weapons that they had. "Catch him! Catch him!" the maiden cried on. She quickly grabbed one of the burlap coverings from off the back on one of the ammunition trucks. She chased down the horse. "Harness him!" she commanded some of the soldiers. Other soldiers rushed to try to rope the horse, others tried to save the tanks and powder and weapons that they had. They tried to catch the beautiful black stallion, but the animal ran fast as fire itself. It set flame to several of the tanks that Queen Frigga's troops had managed to gather. It set fire to one of the catapults.

"Do something about these horses!" shouted the commander of communications shouted over the mayhem that had broken out amongst the ranks. Many of the people of Kytheria set out to try and corral the flaming stallions. The horses were too mad, Too furious. They would not settle Even when they had been bridled. They kept bucking and twitching, rolling on the ground. Soon the dry ash covered grass. The warriors and volunteers fled jumping back from the ground for fear that their feet would be singed.

"Let them go! Let them go!" cried one guard.

"No, we can't," another countered as he sat upon his horse. His own charge was growing agitated as it saw the franticness of its fellow creatures. "They'll set fire to this whole valley"

"They'll set fire to all of us! We have to let them go!" another called he had a rope tethered around one of the horse's necks and the animal flopped and threw itself on the ground in a most unseemly fashion.

The young Kytherian maiden came running with the burlap sack covering, she pushed through the crowd of other volunteers and soldiers. A few others tried to hold her back, but she pressed pass them. She flung the burlap over the horse's hind parts. Eventually, the others saw what she was doing, and they took to doing the same. They smother the fires and released the horses, but the desperate animals still ran wild.

"What's going on here?" demanded the captain. He tried to hold his horse steady, but even his faithful steed started to get twitchy and agitated.

"The horses, sir, It's the Aether, it's driving them out of our control!" the young soldier called as he tried to rein in his mare. Just then the creature bucked him off her back and face first into a river of dark, red blood.

"Forget the horses!" the Captain of the Guard ordered the soldiers. He jumped off the back of his faithful ride. He let the horse go. The poor creature was frantic with fear. He looked into his horse's eyes. Shalla was a good horse. She had carried him through many of their toughest battles. One time she'd rescued him when he was unconscious. He owed her so much. But her eyes. Her gentle eyes that were a soft brown and intelligent and kind, looked panicked and red and furious. He closed his eyes and slapped his horse on the flank and set her free. The ran fast and furiously. "Come! Come!" he yelled to the men. He desperately shouted over the howl of the Aether wind that was starting to pick up and swirl faster and faster around them. "We have to keep going! WE HAVE ONLY MINUTES TO GET TO THE SQUARE!" he yelled.

The soldiers all made haste. They looked at each other and moved forward. It was hard to run in such harsh conditions. While they could barely breathe, but the small group pressed forward. Amid smoke and flame the familiar city streets became a maze. "Hurry men! Hurry!" the Captain of the Guard called between furious coughs. His lungs were quickly filling with the dark, red ash. "We have to keep moving!" he urged them. His small group of roughly 30 soldiers pressed their way through the streets, all coughing and hacking, some crawling on the ground to get away from the smoke that was as thick as storm clouds.

Slowly, other groups of soldiers started to enter the city. They trickled in like running water. Small ranks of soldiers filing in some two by two and other marching in single file. They tried to carry in more ammunition and weapons into the city. So many of the massive weapons had been destroyed by the crazed unicorns. They were down two catapults and they had lost a hold barrel of fusion cannons. The Commander of Communications was very adamant that they get the rest of arms that they had into the city. The Aether was an incredible power source and it would not be easily overcome simply by swords and crossbows and javelins. Their backs were loaded like pack mules, but they couldn't risk losing anymore horses. The soldiers carried heat seeking arrows in bundles, energy-blades (powerful laser sword) that could electrocute a soldier through the armor), they had fusion grenades that could cause chemical reactions on different surfaces. This weapon had been developed by some of the leading weapons scholars in all Asgard. The fusion grenade could melt rock and stone, cause water to boil or freeze, cause gold and iron to rust. It was a powerful weapon, but they only had about 2 dozen or so of the grenades. They couldn't risk losing them. They split them up amongst the men so if one soldiers was lost all the grenades wouldn't be.

Many of the men tried to pull heavy artillery battering rams through the destroyed streets. The ground was no longer paved with golden bricks that shined like it was newly minted. It was once said that even the street sweepers in the Imperial City were happy and they sang as they worked and that was one of the reasons why the city streets shined the way they did. They could often be heard just before sunrise they could be heard singing with the birds just before dawn. Greeting the sun and asking it to make the streets of Asgard resplendent enough to reflect its golden rays. Dawn was swiftly approaching, but there were no cheery melodies being raised to the heavens only the distance echoes of voices snuffed out by the dreadful Aether. There was only the frightful howl of dark winds whipping about. And there were no streets. It had become a sloppy, soupy trail of gold bricks that had turned to nothing, but gold-dust sprinkled in the dark gray of mud and mixed with blood and limbs and bodies. They could scarcely maneuver the battering rams through the gunk and grime and blood without rolling over a body.

"Be careful! Be careful!" The commander shouted over the roaring wind as they pushed through. His eyes were stinging from the swirling ash and smoke that filled the city. He looked down for a moment. Put his helmet on his head to shield his eyes. It was there that he saw a most heinous and gruesome sight. The Commander of Communications had not seen many battlefields. He had always wanted to. He had grown up same as any other boy in Asgard hearing of the thrill of battle, the glory of war. His father was a schoolteacher, his mother was a lawyer, they were so proud of him when he had risen in the ranks of the Aesir Army. He had dreamed of having the chance to truly prove himself in the heat of a fight. Now as he looked down at the disgusting sight before his feet. He somehow felt relief that he hadn't seen more. He looked down and saw a baby. An innocent infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. A child not even old enough to have taken its first steps. It was mutilated, twisted by the Aether's dark powers. He gagged. He felt like throwing-up. HIs eyes filled with tears and he told himself that it was the ash blowing into his pupils. "Be careful of the bodies!" he shouted back, but he wasn't sure if the few soldiers under his command for the wind, but also his voice had cracked. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. He whispered a simple prayer as he pushed a cart pass the young child's body. There were so many bodies. He couldn't say the rites over all of them. It made him sick to see so many of their people with their skin charred and bones broken and limbs severed and bodies crushed and pressed down in the dirt and mud and unable to be sent off in the proper way. Unable to have their remains burned so that they could return to the stars. Disgraceful. "Avoid the bodies! Avoid the bodies," he instructed. They did their best. But it was near impossible.

The warriors from Kytheria cringed as their artillery carts and wagons accidentally ran over the bodies of the fallen. They had to keep going. Asgard had but moments until dawn, but in the extreme bleakness of a city that was smoldering from within it was impossible to tell. If they didn't win, if they didn't manage to save Prince Thor then all of Asgard would be lost. Their whole world could be lost. If Asgard would lose, then soon the Nine Realms would be plunged into chaos and darkness. The Commander of Communications kept telling himself that he and the troop were all that stood between the realms and Ragnarök. It was an intimidating thought, but it was that thought alone that kept him pressing forward rather than weeping for his kingdom.

They split up as more and more mini divisions started to enter the Imperial City. They went down different roads trying to find the quickest way to get to the Town Square. But many paths were blocked by buildings that had just toppled over due to the damage that the fires had caused the buildings. It was incredible. The troops tried to press pass, but debris was falling at a rapid rate, like rain drops. "Come on! Come on! Mitoich!" called out another soldier. "Keep going!" He urged his companion. The Aether ash was becoming so thick and so heavy within the gates of the Imperial City that most of the soldiers could scarcely see their own hands in front of their face. Many had gotten lost and separated and had fallen in ditches. Some of their comrades went back to try to help them and they had fallen in as well. Eventually, some were taken out of the ditches. Pulled out by ropes and tethers and the hands of other soldiers. Slowly, even some of the young guards started to fall by the wayside. They were coughing and choking and gagging, blinded by the darkness and many crawling under the smoke. "Mitoich, Mitoich, keep going" the other soldier continued to express. They were both down on their hands and knees. They were crawling like babes trying to get beneath the dark Aether ash clouds. They were tied together by the waist and there were a few more soldiers also with them.

"We're not going to make it," Mitoich ground out through his teeth. He clawed his way across the ground his hand sinking in sticky wet substances that he could only hope were mud and mortar and water.

We've got to! Come on!" his friend encouraged. He yanked on the end of the rope a little more. Tugging his friend along, "For Asgard!" he pressed in a raspy voice as his lungs filled the smoke.

"I can't see a thing," Mitoich responded back. His hands continued to dig into the dirt his knees scraped across the ground. He was glad of it in a sense though because at least he didn't have to see the faces of the victims of the senseless slaughter of so many citizens at the hands on one who was supposed to be their prince.

Echoes rang out from amongst the soldiers all linked together like some chain gang. The troop grumbled that they couldn't see well enough to know where they were going. The only light was the flickering fire flames. "Commander! Commander!" one of the higher up soldiers called. "The men are complaining that they can't see," he called to the leader of their troop.

The Commander of Communications who was leading the men pushing a heavy cart gritted as he came to an abrupt halt after tripping over the rubble and trash in the streets. He couldn't see either and he was doing his best to stand, they couldn't to leave behind any more weapons. He wiped his brow the city was heating up; it was becoming hot as Helheim. It still looked like nighttime the way the thick clouds were gathered over the Imperial City. "Come on! Come on!" he urged the troop. "We have to keep going," he declared as he gritted and strained and pushed with all his might to get the cart moving once again. It splashed and sloshed, and it rolled throw the dilapidated alleyways. He could only hope that it was water that it was going through.

"Sir please it is too dark! We can't see a thing! We are losing me by the minute!"

"We have communicators,'" the Commander of Communication snapped. He had checked and set up each soldier with a communication device. They had transmitters and call panels. He had even made sure that as many of the volunteers as possible had text-pads.

"I know sir and we've been trying to use them, but our signals keep getting scrambled and fried," the other soldier explained breathlessly. He ducked down to avoid getting strangled by Aether ash that was spraying all about.

The Commander of Communication finally looked down at the communication device that he had on his wrist. It was an impressive piece of Asgardian technology that allowed for the user to communicate with another via a holographic image. The image could be so lifelike and so sharp that it could even display the location of another. The screen on the device was going haywire. It was flashing bright red rune scripts to communicate some type of err. "It's the Aether Ash clouds!" the commander pointed out as he pointed up the large, fluffy, sheet of blackness that was encircling them. 'It can't get a reading," he yelled back.

"Yes," the younger soldier nodded; he couldn't hold back his coughing any longer. "We can't see either, sir," he reminded him.

"Well we can't very well turn back," the Commander of Communication shot back. "There's only one way to go and that's forward. The others are counting on us, our queen is counting on us. You dare not disappoint her!" he snapped once more.

"No, of course not, sir, but how are we to find our way to the town square at this rate?"

"We will find our way," the commander declared. His voice was low. "We have to," he told himself more than the few soldiers who were under his command. "Onward!" he rallied them, and he brandished his sword and took it out and raised it in the air. He started to push the cart of fusion cannons once more. He couldn't see where he was going any more than the men could, but he remembered what he had in his hands. "We can set off one of the solar fire crystals," he finally offered as he turned back to face the soldier at his side, not that he could make out his features.

"A solar fire crystal?" the soldier repeated. Solar Fire Crystals were extremely rare and extremely dangerous and extremely valuable. They contained massive amounts of energy and when a crystal was shatter it could decimate a building in a matter of seconds. For just a few seconds it would give off an incredibly bright light. A light so bright that it could probably illuminate their paths for a few moments, at least long enough for them to get their bearings and know how to get to the town square, "But sir, that could give away our position," the lieutenant pointed out anxiously. "The Dark-Elves will know we are here, this is a stealth mission," he expressed.

"Perhaps it will be enough of a distraction to cause them to stop long enough to come after us and let the rest of our men get to Prince Thor. Cause less bloodshed," the commander said hopefully.

The lieutenant looked less hopeful. "Perhaps," he gulped. "The city is already going up in flames," he stated. "We have no risk of causing casualties," he shrugged. Then he nodded. "We don't have time to debate," he shook his head. "Prince Thor can't wait," he agreed. He felt around in the darkness, he groped in the air until his hands finally landed on the cart that the commander was pushing. He counted the boxes. He gingerly rummaged through them. He had to feel around to feel for the shape of the crystals. He was breathless. The Solar Fire Crystals were sensitive. They could easily erupt. His knuckles managed to skim on. He grabbed it. Cradled it for a moment. Then felt the Commander of Communication's hands on his shoulder. He felt down his arm until her felt his hand and the crystal in it. The commander removed the crystal from his hand. Without another moment of hesitation, the Commander of Communication launched the crystal as far as he could. He had a powerful arm. But he couldn't see how far his crystal sailed until it landed. It flew roughly 26 yards. Upon contacting whatever building or street it made contact with it immediately exploded.

A pulsating blinding white light shot forth from 24 years away. For a moment all the hellish red and deep blackness was dispelled. The world was illuminated into black and white, it looked like nothing but shadows, but the shadows were a welcomed contrast for the eyes that had been fighting to trying to adjust to the forbidding blackness. The soldiers jumped up. Their eyes watered, they screamed and started trying to scramble, they were so startled. They tried to scurry off in a different direction. They momentarily forgot that they were all connected and tethered by a rope.

"We're under attack!" Mitoich's close friend screamed out as he feverishly went to grab a weapon.

"Calm yourselves, men, calm yourself!" the Commander of Communication tried to raise his voice over the commotion. "That wasn't enemy fire," he informed them. "The Lieutenant and I set off one of the Solar Fire Crystals to help give us some light. It will only last for a few more seconds" he warned them. "Look around, look around" he instructed. "Try to scout out the quickest path to the town square," he said breathlessly as his own eyes started to look around.

"I see something! I see them, Commander!" called out one of the Kytherian soldiers. He had hoisted himself on top of one of the recently ruined houses. "There's a large crowd!" he hollered excited over the wind. "They are being rounded up. Drive like cattle," He spat to the ground. "The Dark-Elves have to be taking them to the Town Square for the execution!" he pointed out excitedly. The light from the Solar Fire Crystal that had just blown up a distant building was already starting to burn out.

"Good work, soldier! Good work!" the commander called from below. "Can you see which direction we need to go?"
"I'd say it about 3 miles south of this position sir, they closer we get we should be able to blend into the crowd,"

"Good! Good!" the Commander of Communication was ecstatic. He started to rush the men. He barked out commands. He told them the positions they needed to be prepared to take. The light started to disappear. The power of the Aether once again started to gather.

"Commander! Commander, wait!" yelled Mitoich. He managed to untie himself. He raced to get to the commander's side just before all the shadows turned into pure blackness once again. "Commander, I saw something," he informed breathless. He crouched down and painted on his knees.

"What did you see, Mitoich?"

He looked around; he could hardly see anymore. "Fire," he managed.

"Fire, Mitoich there's fire all around us,"

"This was different..." he shook his head. "It was coming from the ground...it was seeping up from the ground." he announced.

"We can't stop for every fire, my friend," one of his comrades stated and tapped his shoulder pressing forward.

"No, no," Mitoich shook his head and pulled his shoulder from his friend's grasp. "Look," he pointed to the flames that were leaping from the ground.

The other's looked around. The light from Solar Fire Crystal was staring the fade, but they could see what he was talking about. They could see how this fire how this fire was utterly different. The other fires were caused by the Aether, the glow was a dark red, the smoke that was immitted was heavy like a fog. And there were some scattered flames that floated in the air. The ground fire was the typical color, nearly fluorescent orange. It spread on the ground, but didn't rise and float in the sky.

The lieutenant looked at the Commander of Communications, "When Frandal and Heimdal met us in the fields, didn't they mention that the citizens of the Imperial City had been split into 3 groups?" he mentioned. The commander pondered his words, "Some allowed themselves to be taken to the town square for the execution, others escaped to the forests, but the third group," his eyes darted toward the flame.

"The sick! The injured! They left them in the catacombs!" MItoich exclaimed.

"This Fire, it could be coming from the underground bunkers," the commander stated as he pulled back his helmet and scratched his chin.

"It has to be that!" the lieutenant declared. He slammed his fist into his palm. "Look! Look! Look!" he called nearly anxiously. The fire was following a trail, it was starting to wind and spiral. "It's following the exact path of the catacombs, "the lieutenant explained.

"Spirits!" the Commander of Communications swore. "Do the Dark-Elves have no honor? They attack the sick?" he closed his eyes. They nearly filled with tears. Heimdal had informed them how some citizens were so injured they lost limbs and eyes, their lungs were filled with the black Aether ash and they couldn't breathe they had had to hook them up to crude devices, hoping to sustain life. He'd described how so many had been burned so bad that It was like nothing he had ever seen. Heimdal told of the babies, innocent babies who had been blinded by the Aether ash. Healthy Aesir children who would now never get to know the faces of their parents or see the beauty of the land that they were born to inherit.

"They are monsters! How can we expect any better from them?" The lieutenant stated as his lip curled in disgust.

"Well what are we going to do?" asked Mitoich. Mitoich was young. He was peach skinned and wore his hair in long brown dreads.

"What can we do?" another man called out another man in the back.

"We have to do something!"

"Commander! Commander!" yelled out the troops.

"Maybe we should contact the Captain," muttered the lieutenant in the Commander of Communication's ear.

"No, no," he shook his head. "We have to do something," he stated. "We'll go into the catacombs," he confirmed to the lieutenant. "We'll try to get some of the citizens out," he stated.

"How?" the soldiers mumbled in a group aloud.

"Lieutenant, do you know how to get into the catacombs?" asked the commander.

The lieutenant nodded, "I do, but if there are fires and so many buildings knocked down then the entrances might be blocked. Also, if the flames are too high inside the catacomb who knows if we will be able to get through," he told the troops honestly.

"We have to try," confirmed the commander.

"But what about Prince Thor!" some of the soldiers called out. "We have to rescue Prince Thor! Our prince! Our king!" they chanted.

"We can't abandon those citizens!" protested Mitoich.

The other soldiers started to get restless. "We've got to get moving!" some of the men in the back shouted.

"We can't save everyone Mitoich," his friend placed a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head and then hung it as he picked up his satchel and his blade. It was a shame. He didn't necessarily relish the thought of abandoning any of the people of Asgard, but no doubt they'd need everyman possible in the fight to rescue Prince Thor. Look how far Malekith and his fiends had already gotten? And Loki that scoundrel, well, he could have worked any matter of mischief. They had to get Prince Thor. It was sad, but they couldn't afford to lose Prince Thor. The future of all Asgard rode on keeping their heir to the throne alive. It wasn't just for Asgard, it was for all the Nine Realms. If Asgard fell, then the realms would fall too. They'd all be plunged into utter darkness. Death would run rampant. It was a terrible despicable thought. And although tragic they couldn't risk the future of the cosmos for a few sick and elderly folk.

Mitoich, seemed to pick up on his friends' thoughts as if by magic. He knew exactly what the man was thinking. They had been friends for centuries after all. They were both cobbler's sons who had been fascinated by gaining a life better than that of their father's. Like all young boys in Asgard they were drawn to the tales of the ancestors and all the heroics of battle. They both enlisted to be local constables and then worked their way up to becoming guards at the palace. The both had wanted to be soldiers and serve their king and their realm well, but perhaps for different reasons. "We can't just let them die willingly," Mitoich chimed in.

"Prince Thor would do the same," insisted one of the other warriors. "He'd know that the greater good for all outweighed the needs of a few," he expressed. It was sad to have to make this choice. It was a terrible choice a that no one wanted to have to make, but it was a choice that had to be made none-the-less. In Asgard, strength, youth and beauty were always prized. Although, they tried to respect their elders, especially those who had served in the military the truth was that if the chips were down the life of the young and vital was going to give priority over the lives of the infirmed.

"That's not true!" Mitoich rebuffed. He jumped in his fellow soldier's face.

"Private Mitoich!" the lieutenant blew his whistle at the cantankerous low-ranking officer. "You will control yourself!" he demanded of him.

"I'm sorry, sir," the soldier bowed. His back was weighed down with artillery. He was a tall and healthy-looking man with a thick head of dark hair.

"You will mind your place!" the lieutenant commanded. "You dare not raise a finger against one of your brother's in arms. One of your own comrades in this crusade against the Dark-Elves! One of your own division at that. Have you lost your marbles?" he shouted in his face.

Mitoich kept his eyes lowered. "I didn't mean to be insubordinate, sir," he muttered an apology.

"He's just fatigued, Lieutenant," his friend jumped in front of him and spoke up for him. "He didn't mean none of it, sir," the other stated. "And he didn't mean to get in your face either, Belshazzar," he continued to try to make amends on behalf of his friend. "You know we are all just the guards at the palace. And we've trained and studied long and hard for this day, this great and terrible day as it were, but we've never known battle, not like this and we are all on edge," he expressed.

The lieutenant's expression softened for just a moment from beneath his shiny brass and horned helmet. The lieutenant had been in battle, he'd felt the horror and stench of war and he'd felt the adrenaline rush that came from crashing his steel against the blade of an enemy as well, but in comparison to what they were about the face those battles had seemed like nothing more than school yard skirmishes. He was nervous as well.

"No, no," Mitoich spoke up for himself. He pushed pass his friend.

"Mitoich!" his soldier buddy cried. He grabbed him by his muscular arm and tried to hold him back. "C'mon, just..."

"Commander! Lieutenant!" Mitoich called. "These soldiers are saying that Prince Thor would just...just let his own people...these innocent Aesir people die, and you know...you both know that...that," he shook his head. "That just isn't true," he confirmed. "Prince Thor has never turned his back on the needy! Never! Think about how he defended that small town on Midgard from the Destroyer, we all heard the tale," he turned to face the rest of the small battalion. He implored them to think of the later night holospecial about what happened. "Or you read it in a scroll," he pointed out. "That town was small, useless, you heard the reports, but he fought for it," he expressed, and he slammed his hand into his palm. "And... and...and he went back to Midgard to fight when Loki tried to take over as well. We all know that the mortals are the weakest of folk, but Prince Thor fought to save them anyway. How much more would he do for his own people. "Mitoich continued to argue.

"We haven't time for this!" several of the men cried simultaneously. They raised their fists and their spears, and some started to roll along. They pulled and pushed their carts trudging through the sludge and muck and rubble of the broken streets.

"It's the commander's decision on what our next course of action shall be!" stated the lieutenant. His loud voice bellowed and halted the men who were moving along. The men remembered themselves. They remembered their ranks. "Commander," he turned his head to face their leader.

"He's right," the Commander of Communications finally spoke up. He turned to face the crowd of soldiers around him.

"Come again?" the lieutenant gawked from the back of the horse. He put his hand to his ear and placed his pinky finger in his ear to clean it out.

"This man...this..." he pointed his gauntlet toward the tall, broad-shouldered and round-bellied soldier before him.

"Moitoich, sir," he came forward a little bolder.

"Motioich is right," the Commander stated.

The young Lieutenant, the one appointed as second in command to the Commander of Communications by Queen Frigga's Captain of the Guard, he rode up closer to the commander. He pulled his horse's bridle close so that he was leaning against the man's ear. "Sir," he whispered harshly in his ear. "I must advise against this."

"Lieutenant, we do not have time for anymore debating," the commander tried to keep his voice down so as not to alert the men to their confusion. "We have to do something, we have to act now," he stated.

"Yes, we have to rush to aid the Einherjar who are fighting to free Prince Thor!" he declared. "We have to free Prince Thor!" the lieutenant protested he grabbed the other leader by the shoulder. "Are you trying to lose this war?" he demanded.

"No, I'm trying to make sure that we still stand for a what our king and queen and prince stand for," the Commander of Communications stated.

"Commander you have never been in battle and I can understand your hesitancy," he responded trying to keep his voice down. "You sit up in watch towers and in in airships and in underground bunkers, you don't take the field, but in battle you have to choose targets, some have to be sacrifice for the most important parts to be won."

"I've made my decision sir; will you defy orders?"

The lieutenant lowered his gaze. "As you wish, Commander," he finally stated through tight lips. "Alright, men, alright," he rode back through the center of where the small troop had gathered. "I will lead you to one of the entrance points of the catacombs. Hopefully, we can get there and save a few lives," he expressed. "Come! Let's move out!" he yelled and he raised his sword and rode through the streets briskly as he could with the smoke and fog of the Aether ash as it started to swirl back around them.

The commander started to take off behind his lieutenant leading the men on the unintended mission of rescuing invalids. He slowed his horse down slight so that the stride of the animal could match the strong gait of Mitoich. He was running at full speed, huffing and puffing, his axe slung over his back and shoulder and on the other shoulder strapped fast he was carrying a sack of dynamite. "That was good work you back there, Sir Mitoich," he stated.

The man happened to look up. His face was covered with mud, blood, sweat and ash. "I just spoke what I thought, sir," he did his best to shrug and keep moving as quick as he could. "I wasn't trying to be insubordinate," he shook his head. "Or contradict,"

"I agree with you. This is what Prince Thor would want," he reached out his hand and touched the man on his shoulder. "And when this over, if the day be won and if we live to see it and if Norns save our dear prince, I will have you commended before him," he stated. He then nodded toward Mitoich before slamming down his helmet and slapping his horse's flank and dashing off to the front of the line.

---

"Mistress Eir," asked one of the healers. The woman had long black hair that was caked with mud. Her hands were trembling and coated in blood. "Mistress Eir," she called to the head healer. She was pacing around pressing healing crystals to foreheads and chest and spines and other injured body parts. She concentrated. She tried to drain each and every healing crystal of its energy. The crystals glowed with the fluorescent colors growing dimmer and dimmer as most of the power and energy seeped into the patients, but it had little results. It could temporarily ease pain, dull symptoms for a moment, but nothing was working in permanent results. Those who had suffered the worst of the Aether's effects weren't getting any better and those who weren't hurt directly by the actual radiation or ash from the Aether... well they mostly had to suffer the few treatments that they had could be spared just for broken bones. Mistress Eir sighed as she wiped her brow. Her long hair falling in her face. As the last light faded from a healing crystal that she was using to try to clear a man's lung free from Aether ash. He coughed up a puff of smoke thick as any dragon could have made and then collapsed on to a ratty blanket stretched across a damp stone floor. The master healer frowned. She had never seen so many patients who she felt so powerless to do anything for. She had treated men and women all over Asgard and the Nine Realms. She had trained 20 generations of the finest healers. She had helped build hospitals. But never had she seen anything like this. No matter what they did the injuries didn't get better. In fact, they seemed to get worst. She knew it was the effects of the Aether. An infinity stone with the power to alter reality and turn day to night, hot to cold, health into sickness with a snap of a finger. The situation was truly looking hopeless. If the ash continued to spread as she knew it would. Well there wouldn't be any treatment to give to anyone to save them from the diabolical effects. "Mistress Eir," the younger healer now tapped her shoulder.

Mistress Eir turned to face the other healer. Her face was wane and full of sweat. The young woman looked very much the same. "It seems pretty quiet out there," she reported. "Do you think the fighting has stopped? I'm sure the warriors have given themselves up to the Dark-Elves by now..." she expressed and shrugged.

The elderly woman blinked dolefully at the young nurse. The words registered slowly. She had hardly noticed the quiet outside because it was so loud inside the chamber, they had stuffed themselves in. They were piled in next to each other. Mats and blankets and beds lined up from corner to corner wall to wall. They lined the aisle with a barrels and boxes of supplies. It was hard for the healers to even squeeze by and get through the makeshift walkways to minister to the sick patients. The chamber was a cacophony of sounds of scraping and breaking and cracking open boxes and barrels and the sounds of healers shouting for supplies, crystals, water, blankets, towels, scalpels and hand rebreathers. The sounds of wicked deadly coughs and painful sobs mixed into the blend. They screamed and shouted from their pain. They begged and pleaded with the healers to save them and help them and do anything that they could, given them any drug or medication that they had, and the healers could do nothing. So, she hadn't noticed if there was no longer the clashing of steel outside of the stone wall that they were hiding behind. Finally, Eir managed to nod. "I suppose," she muttered. "Yes, I'm sure," she tried to present more confidence as she looked into the eyes of the uncertain young nurse. "They have to be..." she stated again. They didn't have time for the warriors to keep fighting the Dark-Elves down here. They had a plan. They had to get back up to the surface to help Prince Thor. She knew that neither Einherjar nor Valkyrie nor a palace guard would have willingly given themselves up to an enemy, but for the greater good they had to. They didn't have time. She didn't know what time it exactly, but she knew that time was running out. Time moved slower in Asgard than it did on other realms. It was one of the many factors that gave the people of Asgard their longevity, but time was no longer on their side.

"Well maybe we can move some of the infirmed and injured out into the atrium again, mistress?" the young healer proposed. "We're all stuffed in here tighter than a bunch of sardines mistress. We can hardly work and hardly see, the lighting in here is so dim..." she expressed as she pointed to the flickering flames from the old lamps above their heads.

"Alright," she nodded. "But take a few people to scout...I..." she placed her hand to her temples. I have... I have a somewhat uneasy feeling," the master healer expressed.

"As you wish mistress," the young woman said hastily. She dipped into a curtsy. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she looked at the beautiful healer. Mistress Eir was old. Older than many in Asgard, but she had always been a timeless and ageless figure. Now, even in the faint, flicker light in the dark chamber she could make out the deep black circles that marred underneath her eyes. She could see the lines and wrinkles that were starting to crisscross on her face. She could note how new streaks of gray hair seemed to start to shine on her crown. The young woman shook herself from her bitter staring and then quickly moved along. She went to grab a few of her friends. To go scout out the rest of the catacomb.

"Why is Mistress Eir sending us on this fool's mission?" grumbled a pudgy young man with spectacles. He was a healing student at the Imperial City's university. He was studying to be a specialist in dentistry.

"She said that she felt uneasy," the young healer explained.

"I'm just glad to get away from the sick beds for a minute," stated another healer. She was a more experience middle aged woman. She clutched her chest and grabbed on to a medallion that she was wearing. "It's too much," she went on. "I've served with Mistress Eir for many centuries, after a lot of tragedies...but I never seen anything like this," she shook her head as they continued to walk down the empty corridors of the catacombs. The catacombs had been cramped with the refugees of the Imperial City now they were deserted and in was slightly eerie. It was a strange sort of quiet. The only sound to be hear was their slow footsteps echoing down the hall.

"You know that there's nothing out here. The Dark-Elves took everyone away," he grumbled some more. '" We never to move those people out," he insisted.

"Is it getting warmer in here to you all?" asked the young healer.

"Maybe a little," said the pudgy dentistry student. He pulled on the collar of his brown tunic. "Do we really need to walk through the whole catacomb?" he asked the two women who were with him. "That'll take hours."

"Now, you know we don't have hours," the older healer told him somewhat sternly as they turned down a corridor. There was blood splattered on the wall. It was fresh and red and thick like paint.

"Oh Norns!" the young healer muttered as she looked at the blood-stained walls and the instruments strewn about from a battle that was only supposed to be fake. But the battle hadn't been faked for the Dark-Elves and neither were the bodies of the fallen Aesir.

The older female healer rushed to the side of one of the victims of the battle. It looked like Valkyrie. A young woman with long blonde hair and shining silver armor. She had shrapnel shot through her spine from a bomb blast. She checked the vitals. "she'd dead," she announced.

"Did you just mention something about getting away from death," said the plump apprentice healer as he shook his head. "Norns," he spat as he surveyed the carnage.

"There deaths have given us all a chance," the young nurse expressed as she tried to keep from crying. When she wanted to become a healer, she wanted to save lives. She had dreamt of having the opportunity to train with Mistress Eir to perhaps work by her side in one of the many hospitals or on foreign fields, bringing medicine and hope to people. But they hadn't been able to do that. They hadn't been able to do any of that.

The young dentistry apprentice shook his head. "Is there...is there any way for us to win this now?" he huffed.

"Come on, we can't think like that," the middle-aged healer stated after she had whispered a prayer over the fallen warrior. "She rests in the halls of Valhalla, now," she expressed. "But my young friend is right," she nodded. "These warriors and citizens have sacrificed so that many could live. We have to make sure we do are part to keep as many alive as possible," she confirmed. She stood up. Surveyed the battle scene once more. Some people had seemed like they were simple civilians. They hadn't been looking to fight. They'd just planned on getting captured. But the Dark-Elves were merciless, pitiless foes. They didn't even have the decency to spare civilians and just take them prisoners. They snuffed their lives out without a care.

"We better get back to Mistress Eir, tell her what we see here," the young man stated. "The coast is clear," he stated. "Maybe a team of us can get these bodies prepped and ready for cremation," he went on as he shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands. "They deserve that much," he noted.

The older healer started to nod. "A lot of the injured need transplants. Their systems are so irreparably damaged by the Aether...I don't think many of them will survive. We could... we could use some of the organs..." she suggested. She held her chin.

"I don't know if Mistress Eir will approve..." said the young nurse. "It's not really our way..." she reminded the two other healers. And she was right it wasn't. It was considered primitive and archaic in Asgard. They had so much technology and knowledge far more advanced than harvesting organs from one person to give them to another. But these were desperate times.

"She will," the younger healer replied. "What other choice do we have," the young woman tried to offer a smile to her comrades, but it was only met with exasperated sighs. They started to turn back, to walk away slowly back the way they came. "Do you all feel that? That heat?" she asked.

"It is abnormally warm," the young apprentice healer stated. He tried to loosen up his collar once again.

"THAT'S BECAUSE THERE'S A FIRE!" The older woman screamed out as she pointed down the grand atrium where the main battle occurred. It seemed so small at first. It was just a faint flickering light at the end of a long, dark tunnel and yet it was raging and burning and throbbing and consuming everything in its path and it was coming toward them.

"Oh my gosh!" screamed the young man.

"We've got to get out of here!" the older woman urged the two younger healers as she grabbed them by their arms like they were her children.

"And go where? There's nowhere else to go?' said the young nurse as she shook her head.

"Well if it's all the same to you, let's not just stand here gawking and arguing about it!" shot the future dentistry healer. "I'd rather take my chances and live if it's all the same to you," he snapped at the other young healer. The fire was ever creeping closer. The orange flames flickered and danced down the narrow corridors quick as a flash, before long it would have lapped up their heels.

"You're right!" she nodded. Her breath came quickly and sweat started to run down her forehead as the flames came closer and raged higher.

'RUN!" the older woman shouted once more. She didn't hesitate the second time around. She grabbed them by their wrists and dragged them behind her. All their feet were flying, racing down the stretch of hall as quickly as possible

"Oh Norns! Oh Norns! Oh Norns!" screamed the apprentice healer as he ran down the hallways. His feet were pounding in time with his heart. His arms were stretched toward the sky and he ran in front of the women. He started wondering why he ever went into healing. He might as well have just become a warrior for all the risk he was taking.

"What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" asked the younger healer as she gasped breathless while dashing around another corner. She stopped desperate to catch her breath. She bent over on her knees.

"Come! Come!" the more experience healer leaned over on the younger woman's back and tried to tug her along. "Don't give up," she urged the other woman. She pulled on her cloak

"We're trapped down here," the younger healer expressed. She straightened up and took a gulp of air. "We can't get out. We can't possibly get all of the sick and injure out," she reported through haggard breaths. She wiped her brow. Dirt and debris and grime from her sweat tumbled down her forehead and ran into her eyes and nearly blinded her. The haze of the heat grew thicker and thicker and the flames were dancing behind them. They were getting closer and closer.

The older healer shook her head. "Come on!" she said sternly. "The fire is getting closer," she said anxiously as she looked behind them. 3 whole chambers were already engulfed in the flames and the room they were in was up next. "We'll think of something," she said as she draped the younger woman's arm around her shoulder. "Mistress Eir will think of something," she explained hopefully before they started to hobble along.

"At least we'll be cremated," the dentistry student muttered as he coughed, the flames couldn't have been far behind them because smoke was starting to leak into the hallway where they were. "At least we'll have that honor and that privilege," he continued. He banged on his chest as he tried to expel the smoke from his lungs.

"Use your cloak," the younger healer instructed as she wrapped her mouth with her garment and Mistress Eir's long time healer did the same.

"We won't have to have our bodies buried in the Aether Ash like our fallen brothers and sisters," the apprentice stated as he shook his head. "The Dark-Elves took too many of us," he muttered bitterly. The black smoke leaked in and it was becoming too thick for him to breathe and keep running. His pace had slowed. He was walking as quickly as possible, he held onto the wall trying to feel his way down the corridor. "They shouldn't be able to take our glory in death too," he muttered. His voice was low, but the other two healers didn't know if it was with bitterness or from a lack of breathing. "At least... at least they'll know I lived,' he stated as he staggered toward the floor.

"Don't give up! Don't give up!" the older healer admonished. She too tumbled toward the floor with the younger woman still holding on to her. All three were now crawling, scuttling like vermin trying to get away from the red-hot fire. "You're too young," she choked out the words, "to think like that," she scolded. "You can make it!" she told the young man. He was still very much a youth. Hardly more than a child. He had been accepted into Asgard's Imperial School of Healing Arts. He had a life to live. "Asgard has always persevered in times of difficulty. We will again. It's our warrior spirit. You all have that too," she said before breaking into fitful coughs and smoke swarmed around them.

"Maybe Asgard will survive, but that doesn't mean we will," confessed the young man. The older healer would have shot him a stern glare if she would have been able to see him.

"wait!" the younger female healer called interrupting her companions. "Do you hear that?"

"What? The dentistry apprentice questioned as he choked on the smoke that was getting thicker and thicker around them. The ground was starting to heat up and it hurt his hands to crawl.

"Everything is crumbling around us!" the older woman reported. The catacombs were held up by beams, some made of stone and most made of wood and metal. Metal that was melting under the heat of the flame and wood that was simply burning up. Beams were dropping and breaking off in the rom just beyond them. "We need to hurry," she urgently expressed as she continued to drag the younger woman.

"No! No! Listen!" the younger healer protested. She gave a little resistance she didn't allow her body to just be hauled about and carted about like a sack of potatoes. "Someone," she protested as she weakly shook her head.

"It's nothing!" the young man nearly shouted. He would have shouted if he could have shouted, but the thick, black soot was cutting off his breath. He scrambled and crawled as quickly as he could, trying with all his might to escape the insurmountable flames. He felt like a bug.

"No, listen!" the young healer turned around and pulled herself out of the grasps of the older healer. She was flat on her face, but her hand was cupped around her ear.

"Girl! Are you nuts?" hollered the other healer. She forced herself to scream despite the fact that it let more smoke and toxins seep into her lungs. The younger healer flagged at her two friends, she waved and them trying to halt them and shush them. "Grab her feet and drag her!" the older woman ordered.

The young healing student shook his head. "if she has a death wish, that doesn't mean we all should perish!" he argued

"SHHHH!" the younger woman muttered. "Listen!" she begged of them. The two other healers looked at each. Their eyes were watering and stinging from the heat and the smoke. The smoke was so thick they could scarcely see each other. They were both huffing and puffing, but simultaneously nodded at each other agreeing to give the younger woman precisely 15 seconds to convince them before the dragged her back to Mistress Eir even if they had to do it with her kicking and screaming all the way.

"Help! Help! Help!" a faint echo of a voice seemed to rise from the flame

"Do you hear it? Do you hear it?'

"It's nothing! It's nothing! It's just the fires crackling! Come on, run!"

"We saw them! We saw what the Dark-Elves did, everyone is dead, and they intended to finish the job, by setting this place on fire" the apprentice stated. He reached out his hand and gripped up the other young healer by her ankle. She tugged against him.

The young woman could hardly speak. Her voice was a gasp and a whisper. "Someone needs help," she expressed pointing toward the flames.

"There is no one out there!" the young man protested. He shook his head. "Even if there were... they're as good as goners now anyway," he pointed out to counter her. He took a firm hand on her ankle once more and started to pull her.

"We are healers! We can't just leave someone to die!" she protested. She managed to yank her foot from his hold once more. She looked up at her friend with bleeding, pleading eyes. She looked at the young man. He was younger than herself. Still, just a boy. He had not yet sworn the oath of the healers before Mistress Eir, in front of family and friends and before all the other doctors and healers and medicine men and women a pledge made even to the royal family itself, but he had not taken that pledge so perhaps he could never truly understand. She then looked to the older healer. A woman who had served with Mistress Eir herself. Surely, she would not leave a man to burn to a crisp if they could save him for even one moment more.

The older woman took her by the wrist, "We can't go back into the flame. "We have to warn..." she insisted.

"Not all of us," she responded. They all started to cough harder and louder and more intensely. The voice came again, softly calling and entreating them. The voice wasn't enough to convince the other, but the faint shadow of a hand was.

There, hidden behind a cracked bolder, that may have been part of some type of broken off fragment of one of the stadium style seats. The hand waved weakly and limply at them. They could hear a pained cough as well. The hand waved for a while and then fell and collapsed.

"Awww Norns! Curse it!" swore the pudgy young protégé healer. "Now that's not right!" he pointed and continued choking. "How's somebody actually going to be there," he was practically whining.

"We can't leave him," the younger healer stated once more.

"Can't we? Watch me," the plump young man turned back around and started to belly crawl away.

Mistress Eir's assistant healer caught him by the leg of his pants and practically ripped the garment as she held on to him so strongly and he tried to wriggle free. "No, we can't," she said calmly, sternly. "We're healers. Not murderers," she reminded the young apprentice.

"I'll go," the younger woman pledged her.

"You're darn skippy!" the young man called. He fanned the smoke away from his mouth and nose. "Hurry!" he urged her. But the flames were getting closer to that area and they were growing higher and hotter with every passing second.

"No!" the more experienced healer held her back. "You are both young, you have so much to still live for," she expressed.

"No, we don't!" the young man scoffed. "This could be our last day...but I still want to live," he admitted. The older healer shook her head.

"I hope you see many more days beyond this one," she stated as she patted his leg. She started to crawl out toward the poor collapsed individual, just beyond their position in another chamber that was quickly filling up with flames. As she started to crawl, she noted the thick, stump like legs of the young student of dental healing. Those legs stood up and started running. They ran with such swiftness that both women were shocked. He used some healing that he had learned to keep his body from being burned by the flames. He used what he knew of how to control breathing to keep his lungs from being overtaken by the black smoke. He moved quickly through the fire. It was hot and scalding and it felt like it was melting his skin. He wasn't skilled enough to hold the powerful healing technique for more than two minutes. He screamed as he ran through the fire. Feeling the power of the technique growing weaker with ever inch he took through the flames. Finally, after taking a few more quick paces. He reached out and grabbed a thin, limp wrist. He didn't have time to think. He yanked the person up by the wrists. He slung them over his shoulder effortlessly and then raced back through the flames. He dived back into the chamber where his comrades were waiting and rolled in under the smoke.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" they yelled encouraging him to make. He did. He and the person who he had just saved both had parts of their clothing that were on fire. "You're on fire! You're on Fire!" the women pointed out as he tumbled and rolled toward. He was out of breath and coughing uncontrollably and still holding an unconscious being on his back. The two female healers immediately began fanning him. The smothered the fire with their own hands. They singed their hands a bit but managed to put the fire out.

"There isn't any more time to crawl," the younger healer expressed as she coughed into her elbow while looking behind herself and seeing that the fire was starting to consume the room right behind them. It would soon consume the chamber they had been crawling through.

"Stand up! Run! We can make it," the apprentice healer stated as he got to his feet again with the person he had rescued still on his shoulders. They all took off running at full speed. Their bodies punched their way through the thick, black smoke. They employed the healing techniques needed to purge their lungs of smoke as they.

They reached the hidden chamber just in time. Heat swirled around them smoke poured in like a flood and fire lapped in back of them ready to lap at their heels. "LET US IN! LET US IN!" they all screamed frantically. All of them hand fists pounding on stone wall that kept the chamber hidden.

A healer came to the door, she was an old woman with gray hair caught up in a sloppy bun. "Just a minute," she responded as she seemed to take great effort to push back the stone wall just a crack. She was only able to open it a crack before she saw their heads bobbling frantically around the sliver of crack she had created. Their eyes were wide and full of horror. They painted breathlessly. "My goodness," she said still straining to push the door open. "We were beginning to get worried...we thought that maybe the Dark-Elves..."
She could not finish her sentence. "FIRE! FIRE!" they cried. "LET US IN!"
The old woman batted her eyes confusion and horror immediately taking over her features. She started to scramble to push the wall open more. It grated against the door slowly. The three scouts. Began pushing from the outside. Perhaps it was their adrenaline and desperation that gave them the ability, but they moved it quickly. They pushed their way through in the frenzy. They were automatically a mass of arms and legs and fingers pushing and shoving and clawing like maniacs trying to get away from the hot flames. The healing apprentice used his big belly to burst through. As he squeezed his belly through the narrow opening in the wall it pushed the old woman back. She tumbled to the floor and her spectacles fell off her face. "Oh my! Oh my!" the old woman said from her back, she twisted like a turtle on her back. The healing apprentice finally shoved himself through and the person on his back. The pair of them fell right on top of the older healer. She let out a gasp. The pain was compounded as the two women followed suit and fell on top of the young healing student. "Oh Norns!" she groaned as she felt her spine crick and crack.

The trio hadn't time to apologize to the old lady. They jumped up and continued to run deeper and deeper into the makeshift healing ward. "Help! Help! Fire! Fire!" the continued shouting as they ran in every direction.

"Keep your voice down!" the old lady scolded. She weakly clambered to her feet. "Stop shouting that!" she ordered them as she clapped her hands like a schoolmarm. She had been a nurse at the Royal Academy for several years. She grabbed the young apprentice healer by the shoulders. "You know better than to scream something like that! All the stress everyone is under...I was coming to open the door... "

"There's a fire! There's a fire!" he responded to her. He in turn took her by then shoulders and shook her a little.

"Merciful Yggdrasil, no!" she hollered back.

"It's true! It's true!" He nodded. He bobbed his head, tears poured from his eyes.

Instantly, Mistress Eir seemed to emerge. She came forth walking quickly while leaning on a cane. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded as she caught the younger of female of the trio by the shoulder.

"Mistress everything is on fire outside of this chamber!" she expressed pointing to the door. She tried to keep her voice down to not insight panic.

"What?" the master healer took a step back. If it wasn't for the cane she possessed she was sure she would have tumbled to the ground. She put her hand on her forehead.

"What are we going to do my lady?" asked the older of the trio. Her large brown eyes looked up at the woman she considered a mentor.

Mistress Eir's eyes darted to the stone wall. The only thing that was placed between them and flames. But it wouldn't be for long. It surely wouldn't be for long. They had mere minutes. There were holes and cracks in the wall. Fire was a smart and hungry element. It would find away in. Even if they did manage to hold the flames at bay, they could suffocate to death from the heat. "All-fathers help us," she muttered to herself so quietly that those around her didn't hear her. She closed her eyes and hopes that tears didn't fall. "We tend to the sick first," she reminded the healers around her. "Who is this," she inclined her head toward the person slung over the healing students' shoulder. They made way and gingerly placed the fire victim on his back.

"We found him; he was hiding behind a stone trying to protect himself from the flame..."
" Algrim!" Mistress Eir exclaimed.

"Prime Minister Algrim!" the gray-haired healer gasped. She held up a lantern as she examined the victim.

Mistress Eir's heart was pounding in her chest! Algrim, not her friend Algrim. Not handsome Algrim. They had been close for so many years. Both had been high ranking members of court, advisors to the royal family, close friends of the king. Both had been married and in love before, but both were too learned and practical to believe into giving into the temptation of love at their age. It was preposterous and so it was an unspoken pact between them to never bring up such fanciful notions. But this whole time, now that they were facing the end and that life seemed so much more precious and time seemed so much shorter. She had begun to think that maybe if they lived through this dread apocalypse that she would say something to him about her true feelings. Mistress Eir had to calm herself. She had to pull her thoughts from her true feelings for the Prime Minister of Asgard. She had to tend to him now just like she would any other patient. At this rate there wouldn't be time for confessions anyway.

"Get me the burn ointment," she instructed the team of healers as she had already begun to work on her friend. He palms glowed with a white light. She dipped her glowing hand in a small glass of water and the water attached itself to her hands and started to glow as well. She rubbed her water covered hands up and down the prime minister's body. "Second- and third-degree burns," she informed the other healers. The one that came back with the ointment started applying it to the places that had been discolored. She moved her hands upward toward his chest. She quickly moved her hands in circles in trying to sense what was going on with him internally. "Smoke in his lungs," she stressed. "it must be expelled," she told them. "Burns on his lungs, too" the lead healer shook her head.

"I'll try to expel the smoke from his lungs," the young healing apprentice volunteered. He pressed on Algrim's test. The Prime Minister was so terribly thin and so old and frail that he didn't want to injure him. He just needed to get him to cough. A few strong pats near the center of his breastbone and Algrim started to cough reflexively. The smoke immediately started to spew from his lungs. It left like someone giving up the ghost. Once Algrim coughed the dentistry student was able to catch the smoke in his hands. His fingers were like magnets and they held fast to the smoke so that he was able to pull it from his lungs. Lord Algrim's chest puffed and swelled, and he seemed to fight for breath, but soon her relaxed. "He needs a healing crystal," he stated turning to one of his friends. "it's the only way to heal the damage to the lungs."

"I'll...I'll see if I... I can find one," the young female healer nodded. She jumped up immediately, but her eyes nervously darted toward the wall. The stone wall that was the only thing between them and flame. She shook herself and ran off.

"Some of his clothing is stuck to him my lady, burned right on him," the gray-haired healer informed.

"Remove it!" Mistress Eir stated as she worked her healing. She tried to cool and treat the more severe burns. She numbed the pain and tried to speed up the healing process. She was rubbing her hands over his bony legs that had suffered from most of the third-degree burns. She looked at his legs and winced noting the nerve damage. It was possible he'd have no feelings in his legs.

The older healer did her best to try to remove the singed and charred on pieces of fabric from Lord Algrim's pale flesh. Elfin flesh wasn't the same as Aesir flesh. It was thinner and the burns were so severe that it seemed that the clothing had practically melted into his skin. The elderly healer tried to work as swiftly as possible. Her fingers were wrinkled as prunes, but they were still capable, but for every tug she gave it seemed to tear into the flesh and it caused the Prime Minister to shudder. He even screamed out a few times. The gray-haired healer dipped her hands in some water and froze the water on her hands she tried to rub her icy hands over the burned skin to numb, but she didn't have enough water. She didn't have enough ice. "It's not working, Mistress!" she called.

"Where's the healing crystal?" Mistress Eir wondered aloud.

"Mistress Eir! The FIRE!" pointed out the healer who had been her assistant for years. "Look," she pointed out as smoke leaked through the small cracks in the wall.

"OH, MERCIFUL YGGDRASIL WHAT WILL WE DO!" shrieked the white-haired healer. She threw her arms in the air. She started to hyperventilate as her eyes darted to stare at Mistress Eir.

Mistress Eir drew in a sharp breath. She only had a moment to think. "Alert the other healers," she ordered.

"Mistress, we can't move the infirmed," informed her faithful assistant. "Not again," she shook her head.

"And besides, there's nowhere to go," shouted the young apprentice healer.

"Get the healers who are most skilled with water method. Have them stand along the wall and ice it down to keep the fires at bay," she instructed and rose. The apprentice healer and the younger woman ran off calling out to as many healers as they could find. They didn't need to say much. They pointed to the wall and the healers saw the flames. They immediately sprang into action. They knew exactly what to do. They came rushing toward the wall with water and pails and buckets. Tens upon tens of healers immediately took to dousing the wall in water. They saturated the stones so that they were covered in liquid. They put out the few flames that had started to try to fight their way into the protective little sanctum they had found. Once the wall was wet enough several healers ran toward the wall and pressed their hands toward the stones. They froze the water and the stones and made a great ice wall. It was slick and thick and cold, and it seemed to be doing the trick it seemed to be keeping the fire back.

"It's working Mistress!" exclaimed her assistant. Eir could not completely bring herself to smile as she could see that the ice- wall was breaking. It was starting to crack. She could see the hot strong colors of red and orange and yell burning passionately behind the sheet of ice.

"It's breaking!"

"It won't hold!"

"HELP!" the frantic healers yelled as they used all their strength to try and stave off the flames. "Hold it! Hold it, my warriors!" Mistress Eir called to them. She could see their stress and strain and see the sweat that was pouring from their foreheads as they used their powers to do the impossible. They were healers not, firefighters. "Think of it as a raging fever for one of your patients! Fight it! Fight the fever, cool them down," she encouraged them.

"My lady, it won't hold forever, you know it won't hold forever," said the middle-aged healer.

"Go, Khristeenah," she finally instructed the woman. "Get those healers you can slather the burn slave on the patients, it'll protect them for a little while," Mistress Eir shoved a small jar of the salve into her hands.

Khristeenah shook her head, "it isn't enough. It won't protect them forever!" she countered.

"it's all we can do right now!" she told the middle-aged healer. Khristeenah could see the desperation in the Master Healer's eyes. She had worked with her through many crises and she had only seen that look one other time. They had been on Musepelheim. A ridiculously hot place and home to many giants, trolls and fire fairies. The climate of the realm was so hot that it bred disease rampantly. The Giants did not specialize in medicine they usually used the fire fairies for that but when even the fairies were at a loss, they had called upon the assistance of Eir. The Giants had been known to sell weapons to their relatives the Frost Giants which had put enmity between them and Asgard. Still, Eir could never not aid those in need and begged the king for a time to go and serve the Giants. Odin granted her and small team along with a legion of Einherjar permission. The disease was particularly effecting children. It was a type of pox that was highly contagious. The only cure was one of Idunn's Apples. But Idunn still bore great anger toward the Giants who had aided in starting the great war where her one and only lover was killed. Eir begged Idunn to help the children then innocent children who had nothing to do with the sins of their parents. Idunn was reasonable, but not all compassionate. She spared a single bushel. It wasn't even enough to save a quarter of the children.

Khristeenah knew that they couldn't save everyone, this time they might not be able to save anyone including themselves, but Mistress Eir would do everything in her power to make sure that they people did not suffer.

Khristeenah and a few healers who could be spared from tending to the ice wall rushed about with as many burn salves as they could find and slathering it on the injured warriors and civilians a like. They tried to swaddle the young children in flame resistant blankets. A few of the soldiers and civilians who weren't as critically wounded got up off their beds and mats and hobbled and crawled if they had to toward the wall with buckets of water for the healers to use to fight the flames. They were doing their best. They really were, but it was too late. Eir watched with horror as the flame grew hotter and thicker and more intense behind the ever thinning ever cracking sheet of ice.

She reached out her hand for Lord Algrim's He was still lying on the floor beaten, terrible scarred and burned. He had multiple contusions on his head. "I wish we would have had more time Algrim. We've both lived such long lives and yet and still I wish we would have had more time," she said with tears in her eyes.

Just as the words tumbled from her lips the ice-wall cracked and splinted in a loud and audible way. Fire came bursting forth from behind the stone and the stone crashed into the ice and shattered it violently like an explosion. It was like a bomb had gone off. She heard the healers scream and cry and shout. Their hands and faces were burned, their limbs hit with rocks and debris. They scrambled despite their pain some still trying to put out the fire that was taking over the hidden chamber. Flames danced high and hungry and there didn't seem to be enough water to put in out. They ripped off their clothing doing everything they could to try to smother the fire.

"This is it! This is it!" Some shouted.

"Get the patients!"

"RUN!"

RUN WHERE?" came the most terrifying question everything outside of their stuffy chamber was on fire. They had nowhere else to go. Patients flung themselves out of bed. Healers dashed and darted grabbing as many of the hurt and wounded as they could trying to bring them back to the furthest corner of the chamber. The people screamed horrified and frightened. Babies started to cry as smoke filled the air.

"I can't see!"

"I can't breathe!"
"AHHHHHH!" the terrible bellows of those taking on the flames.

HELP! HELP! HELP!" the desperate plea came forth from the crowd of hundreds of weak and infirmed Aesir citizens. Soldiers started clawing at the walls trying to find a trap door to help them escape.

"MERCIFUL YGGDRASIL HELP US!"
"NORNS AND ALL_FATHERS!" the yelled.

Eir lumbered over to the back corner with her body bent as she had Lord Algrim on her back. She rolled him out flat and laid him on the ground. "Make a barricade!" she said as she grabbed one healer by the shoulder. "Come get the people off the beds, we had to use the beds to barricade ourselves," the head healer of all Asgard instructed. They did as instructed. They got the people off of the beds and set the beds up around them in a protective fashion. The flames started to eat away at the bedding and the sheets and the boxes and the barrels.

Soon the ceiling seemed like it was caving in. Rocks and pebbles and debris seemed to start to fall. They were either to be burned to a crisp or smooshed to death. Neither was a great option. "Norns please help us!" Eir dropped to her knees and prayed as she clutched a healing crystal around her neck. When she looked up again, she found a man-sized hole in the ceiling and hands reaching down to grab them. The room was filling up with smoke quickly. Mistress Eir could hardly see. Yet she recognized the style of helmet and the bright purple plumage atop the crests. She blinked and rubbed her eyes barely believing what she saw. "Aesir soldiers?" she questioned aloud.

"They are here! They are here! We've got them" the soldier shouted as he called back to the other men. Some of which were holding him by the ankles.

Mistress Eir stood up and pushed her straight white hair out of her face. "Aesir! Aesir Soldiers!" she screamed out between coughs. She pointed toward the hole in the ceiling. "We're saved! We are saved! She exclaimed as she choked. "Get the children out first!" Mistress Eir ordered.

A/N: HEYYY! You made it! Give yourself a round of applause, a pat on the back and treat yourself to some cookies! LOL! That was a really long chapter and I honestly thought we were going to get into the final battle scene, but as I always say the characters and this story really has a mind of its own. But the battle is upon us and now the stage is set and all the characters are in position. R U READY? Please feel free to leave a review. You deserve to let me know how you feel.

Readers, I just want to encourage you, I know many people are facing uncertain times during the Corona Virus and dealing with the political and Civil Unrest. My city was greatly affected by the riots, but the need for protesting is soooooo necessary. I always encourage you to put your trust in God. Our world is in so much trouble Jesus Christ is the way the truth and the light. If you want to be saved from the pain and problems in this world he is the way. If you have questions about Jesus and the Bible, please message me. JESUS LOVE YOU.

BLACK LIVES MATTER!