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?

57. No Turning Back

A/N HELLO READERS! It's been a minute, but I hope you are all doing great and staying safe during these unprecedented time. I am sorry that it has taken me so long to update, but as society has tried to open back up life has gotten busier (Man! My goal was to finish this fanfic during quarantine and that didn't happen, darn it!) Anyway once again I thank each and everyone of you so, so, so much for your reviews favorites and follows, I would not still be writing this story and growing myself as a writer if it wasn't for you so THANK YOU! (Give yourself a hug) This chapter is a long one so please brace yourself. It was difficult to write as far as pacing, but hopefully it is enjoyable. Well as always happy reads and writes. God Bless You. And without further ado...

Chapter 57

"They're down here! They're down here!" Mitoich called enthusiastically to the other soldier that was holding him by the ankles.

"Yes!" the other solider replied before he passed the message along. The message kept traveling up a line of soldiers all holding each other by the ankles like the popular children's toy, barrel of apes. The message of the infirmed citizens being down in the catacombs traveled up the line fast as lightning just like in the children's game, muttering down the road.

"Excellent news!" the lieutenant yelled back down. "Come on! Come on!" he yelled as he clapped his hands. "Let's get them out of there!" The soldiers immediately started to send down ropes to help the people get out of the burning catacombs.

"The soldiers! The soldiers! The soldiers!" some of the injured Aesir citizens called out pointing up to the ropes and lines and the hands that were reaching down to help them. Some of the soldiers started to climb and slide down the ropes to assist the weakened citizens.

"Healers!" Mistress Eir called to those under her charge. "Do what you can to hold back the flames! Give the people time to escape," she ordered as she too sprang into action. She grabbed another buck off water and threw it at the measly barricade that they had managed to make. The Fire was quickly eating its way through the wooden boxed. She then stretched her hand toward where the boxes were wet and iced them boxes down with a thick layer of ice. Other healers rushed to do the same. "Get the children out first!" Mistress Eir called over her shoulder toward the soldiers.

The soldiers immediately rushed toward the first children they saw. They scooped them up as quickly and tenderly as they could. Many of the children were coughing and gasping crying and screaming. Many had already been injured in the attacks and now had their wounds compounded with the fire. They rushed and scrambled carrying two or three screaming children at a time. They would rush the children to hole in the roof that they had made and quickly pass them up.

"We can't hold it much longer, my lady," expressed one of her leading healers. They had an ice wall up as high as they could make, but the flames were growing and becoming stronger and stronger and more violent. They threatened to break down the wall.

"We've got to start getting some of the more abled bodied citizens out as well," Mitoich urged his fellow soldiers.

"Come on, come on!" the queen's guard hollered. "Can you stand?" he asked an old man. The old man had the lower half of his right arm apparently amputated, but his legs seemed to be fine. He didn't have time to answer he was yanked to his feet and practically thrust toward the whole in the ceiling.

"I...I... I can't climb," he hacked as he waved the nub below his elbow.

"Just hold on to the end of the rope," one of the queen's men who was stationed inside the hole in the ceiling called to him. As the heat and smoke around him seemed to be getting more and more intense the elderly Aesir gentleman didn't argue. He immediately grabbed on to the end of the rope. His old hands were shaking but they held fast to the rope as the soldiers a top reeled him in like a largemouth bass.

They hurried and did the best they good to get everyone out. They took care to evacuate the women and average citizens of Asgard first. There was another Aesir soldier, a palace guard, he had a terrible gash in his side. It was infected with Aether ash, causing the wound to fester. It was quite painful. "Corporal," one of the Kytherian soldiers with the bright purple plumage on his helmet greeted. He was carrying an old woman in his arms and her daughter was swung over his shoulder. "Come! This tunnel is going to collapse," the other soldier urged. He shaded his eyes as he watched sparks fly from every direction and beams start to break and fall all around them.

The corporal shook his head. "This is my wife... and her mother," he expressed breathlessly. He started to pass the old woman over to the other soldier. "They're...they're..." he sputtered as he gasped for breath. The pain of his injury taking its toll. He fell to the ground. He was on his knees, but he dared not let his family fall to the ground.

"You should get out with them," the other soldier insisted as he fanned the black smoke away from his face. He stooped down to take the man's wife in his arms.

The palace guard shook his head once more. He forced himself to his feet with gritted teeth. He winced as he managed to get to his feet and stagger with his mother-in-law's unconscious form in his arms. "No, no," his voice came out almost as a whisper. "No!" he refuted. "There's more... there's plenty more," he swung his head back toward the hundreds still waiting to be evacuated.

"You're injured just the same as they," the Kytherian soldier insisted as they made their way toward the hole in the ceiling.

"Not so bad," he huffed out.

"Well if you're not so badly injured then we need you for the fight," he insisted. "We've got two women...unconscious," the soldier shouted up to his fellow rescuers. Immediately two more soldiers jumped down. They gingerly took the two women in their arms. They were careful not to further exacerbate their injuries. The younger woman had a brace around her neck.

"We live in a high-rise in the old city sector," he explained as he looked down at his wife, a freckle faced woman. She was so beautiful to him. "We have a rooftop garden," he explained. "She must have been tending the garden," the palace guard expressed as he watched others take his wife in hands. While another man carried his wife, another tied a rope around his waist so then he could pull him up without injuring the woman. "She'd always tending the garden," the soldier reflected as he placed his mother-in-law in someone else's arms as well. "She wanted to have it ready to host a garden party..." he continued. His eyes watched as both his mother-in-law and wife were lifted away in the arms of another. "They told me she must have fallen. Fallen from a great height, that's how she broke her neck. She's lucky to be alive," he informed.

"Come on," the Kytherian soldier said. "You get up there with them. You should be with them," he insisted. "If you are strong enough to fight you can avenger your wife..."

"No, we've got to get the rest of the people out first," he stated boldly and then he hobbled his way back toward the flames to keep rescuing more of the infirmed.

The soldiers worked as quickly and efficiently as they could. They performed tremendous feats. They hammered multiple holes into the ceiling so they could evacuate more and more citizens as quickly as possible. They passed up bed and hover chairs and tanks of oxygen and other equipment. Before long they had gotten nearly everyone out. "LET'S GO! LET'S GO! LET'S GO!" the lieutenant shouted from above, "get those people out of there!" he ordered.

"Mistress Eir this is it! We can't hold it any longer!" confirmed the young apprentice healer.

"You've done all you can do here, Engel," Mistress Eir stated. "All! All of you!" she ordered as she finally removed her hand the ice wall they had created. She screamed out a little bit as the heat from the ravenous flames burned her hands. She heard several of her fellow healers let out similar cries. Mistress Eir immediately released some healing energy into her palms and staved off the more merciless effects of the fire. She assumed her healers were doing the same. "Come on," she grabbed the apprentice healer by what was left of his sleeve and proceeded to drag him away. The flames were bursting through the icy barricade that they had tried to make. Shards of flaming broken pieces of wood sprang into the air. They shot about randomly like an explosion. The healers who were some of the last to leave grabbed anyone who was left. They pushed the remaining beds and chairs toward the holes in the roof. They carried people between them on stretchers and just on sheets if it was necessary doing whatever they could to get away from the flames.

The soldiers, healers and even the injured citizens themselves had safely evacuated almost everyone. The fire rose and engulfed the whole catacomb. "Is that all of them?" asked Mitoich. He fanned the flames out of his face and put a shield to protect himself from the fiery darts.

"Yes, yes, yes!" informed Mistress Eir's faithful assistant, Krysteenah. She was doing a crazy combination of fanning and flapping and coughing and trying to hold her breath as she grabbed onto the rope.

"Okay, well let's go!" Mitoich declared. "This place is collapsing," He helped more and more of the healers get loaded up on the ropes.

"Wait!" Mistress Eir's silvery voice rang out. She was just about to put her hand on the rope. She immediately turned back around.

"Mistress Eir, where are you going there's no time," a soldier called as he caught her by the wrist.

"The Prime Minister," she gasped.

"The Prime Minister is here?" the young soldier asked while coughing.

"Yes, yes, he'd unconscious, badly burned but still living," Mistress Eir expressed. "WE have to save him!" She cried. As more boxed exploded and beams crashed down around them in fiery heaps. One of the flying pieces of fiery debris struck Mistress Eir on the shoulder. The elderly master healer. She yelled grabbed her shoulder and nearly collapsed to the floor. She clutched her shoulder, she managed to extinguish the flames though she did have a burn or two, but the shard was stuck in her shoulder blade.

"Mistress Eir, stay down!" a soldier declared as he rushed to grab her.

The old woman struggled, "Please... please get Algrim," she begged as she felt her body being lifted off the ground while she clutched her shoulder to remove the piece of wood. The soldier quickly shuffled her along. He moved her toward the hole where another's hands were reaching down for her.

"Mitoich there's no time!" the soldier who was dangling from the ceiling with Mistress Eir snug in his arms cried.

"No! There has to be time," Mistress Eir eyes grew large. She stretched out her slim porcelain fingers. "I'll go back myself!" she shouted. Though a frail looking woman. She was incredibly strong.

"Mistress Eir, we could need you on the battle field," The soldier who was holding her tried to explain.

"We will need the Prime Minister. He is the leader of Asgard right now. We can't lose him!" she urged.

"She's right!" Mitoich declared. "I'll get to him Mistress, don't you worry!" he turned to her and gave a strong salute. In a flash he darted away back into the chamber that was consumed with fire.

Mistress Eir was lifted up safely by the lines. She managed to crawl the rest of the way by herself through the dirt tunnel that the soldiers had tug. It wasn't as neat and orderly as the tunnels that the ancients had made for the catacombs. It was sloppy job. The tunnel was narrow and too tight and the pebbles kept falling all around, but it was the way of escape and she dare not say no to it. Dragged her injured arm unable to use it. She saw the light at the end of the tunnel, A hand of salvation outstretched toward her. She was crawling as quickly as she could, but still the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to grow dimmer as she approached the hands seemed to get smaller and further away as she made her way. She started coughing miserably. Dust and smoke filling her lungs. Just as she was about to collapse within the tunnel, she felt at metallic hand take hold of her wrist. In a strong grasp she was hoisted from the narrow makeshift passageway. She emerged coughing and gasping as she made her way into the air. "Don't worry Mistress Eir, we've got you," a strong voice said. It was the Commander of Communications. He ushered for the woman to lie flat on her back and waved over a solider who had a canteen full of water to serve the master healer of the realm. "Easy, easy," he tried to soothe her as he rubbed her back.

"Are you alright, Mistress," Khrysteenah rushed over toward the chief healer of the palace. She broke away from the soldiers who were trying to wrap her in blankets. She tore the blankets out of their hands and ran with it. When she reached Mistress Eir she immediately covered her. "Are you well, my lady?" the assistant healer asked. As she inspected her mistress. Mistress Eir nodded as she swallowed thickly the water that she was holding in her mouth. "Thank the Norns you are ok," she wrapped her arms tightly around the great healer. "All of Asgard is going to need your expertise in this fight," she expressed still hugging the noblewoman. Mistress Eir winced and revealed her wound. "Oh, my goodness! Mistress Eir, you're hurt!" she pointed out. Her eyes as wide as could be. She'd served with the master healer so many times for so many centuries, they'd served on battlefields and in palaces, they'd served in jungles and on the high seas and sometimes in deep space, but she'd never seen a time when her mistress was hurt.

"Don't fuss, don't fuss!" Mistress Eir tried to shoo Khrysteenah's careful hands away from her. Middle aged healer paid Mistress Eir no heed. She continued to inspect the wound. "It's nothing... it's minor, it's a minor detail...please," Mistress Eir winced as she felt her faithful assistants own powers coursing through her to take care of the damage of her bleeding shoulder. Mistress Eir sighed in relief as she felt the cool effects of the healing techniques wash over the fresh burns. "I... I could have done that myself." the gray-haired noblewoman expressed. "I... didn't only to save my strength to treat our injured and our wounded," she reported.

"You have to be at your best to do that, my lady," Khrysteenah stated. She moved her fingers in a meticulous motion and rhythm. Trails of light leaked from her finger tips and went right to the gash in Mistress Eir's flesh. The light worked its wonders and stopped the bleeding and repaired any nerve damage and seemed to stitch the wound instantly. "Hold still, I'm almost done," she told her. "Who would have ever thought that the Great Mistress Eir would be such a fussy patient," she chuckled.

"I guess I've been on the other side for so long that I forgot how it is to be a patient," she sighed as she felt the healing taking effect. "But you are a fine healer, Lady Khrysteenah," she closed her eyes for a moment.

"Oh please, Mistress," Khrysteenah rolled her watering eyes. "Your wound is much easier to work with than the wounds we've seen with the citizens of the Imperial City. It wasn't infected by the Aether Ash," she said as she gave into a shiver. The air was hazy and heavy with the thick ash of the AEther right now. "I'm trying to keep it from becoming that way,"

"No, no, matter," Mistress Eir shook her head. She relaxed and smiled as the pain in her shoulder seemed to dissipate. "

Whoever taught you should feel very proud." she confessed.

"That would be you, my lady," Khrysteenah responded.

"I think everyone is accounted for, sir" One soldier reported to the Commander of Communications. He came up to the man who was standing just outside the hole near Mistress Eir and Lady Khrysteenah, "One of the healers ran the numbers with me," he informed.

"Good. Good." The commander replied. "We can bury this place and contain the fire. Then we can have the healers move the injured out of the city and we can continue to try to reach the square," he explained.

"We won't have much time, sir," the soldier insisted.

"We have to have enough time, sergeant, I won't take any excuses! All of Asgard is counting on us, don't forget," he stuck his finger toward the lower ranking soldier's nose.

"Yes, sir! Of course, sir, right away, Commander," the soldier replied in earnest. "I'll tell the munitions team to get the dynamite ready," he went on. He turned on his heels and started to walk away from his commanding officer. He called into a communication device and started to relay the message.

"Lieutenant, we have Mistress Eir and all the healer and patients out. Get ready to move out so that we can get ready to bury the catacombs" he spoke into his wrist communicator that allowed him to see a clear image of the lieutenant.

"Bury the catacombs!" exclaimed one of the communications specialists. A young woman with brown skin and deep-set eyes. Her deep-set eyes were bulging from the sockets. "Commander are you sure that's what you want to do? The catacombs are a part of Asgard's history. They have served our people well. They've just been so useful in protecting out people," she pointed out.

"I know," the Commander of Communications said with regret in his voice. He was a military man, but he knew the important of information. History was information. He knew how effective knowing history and having access to old intel could be in war. Sometimes it could be a turning point. He hated to see a piece of Asgard's grand past lost. But the fire would spread and destroy the city for the underground if they didn't do something. The city was already smoldering as it was. "It's either destroy history or be history," he told the young soldier.

"Right you are, sir," she immediately replied and quickly returned to her post rolling up the ropes and tethers.

"Wait! Wait!" Mistress Eir called from her position on the ground.

"Mistress, please calm yourself," Khrysteenah called as she tried to contain the great healer. "Lie still, please I'm trying to finish..." Eir forced herself to her feet and tried to make her way over to the Commander of Communications. She rushed stumbling slightly. Her long, silver locks blew in the wind as she tried to push pass the frenzy of soldier who were hurrying off in every direction. "Mistress!" Khrysteenah shouted.

"You can't!" the royal healer called as she caught the commander by the sleeve.

"Mistress Eir, you must rest," he insisted as he caught her by the arms. Her legs seemed as if they were about to give out.

"You can't! You can't! You can't" she continued to rant as she wagged her head furiously.

Just then a few beeps came through on the commander's wrist communicator. He saw the lieutenants face fizzle into focus. "Sir we still have a man down here," he stated.

"What?"

"Yes, the soldier Mitoich,"

"What the blazes is he doing down there? Everyone is out! Does that man want to be burned to a crisp?"

"He went back to rescue the Prime Minister."
"Prime Minister! Prime Minister! Do you mean that Prime Minister Algrim is down there?"

"Yes, yes he is," Mistress Eir spoke in the commander's ear in earnest. "You have to give them time! You have to give them time to escape!"

"We don't have the time" The Commander of communications shot back. He grabbed his ears. His heart pounded in his chest. They had a deadline to meet. The Captain of the Queen's Guard was no doubt already at the town square by now. They needed all the forces possible to take on Loki and the Dark-Elves.

"Two minutes, two minutes. Can you spare them two minutes?" the Lieutenant practically begged.

"Two minutes and not one moment longer. I've got the dynamite ready and we will not see the whole city go down," he urged. He immediately shut off the communicator.

"Two minutes, two minutes," mumbled the Lieutenant to himself as he wiped his brow. Things were starting to heat up underground. A few of the troops that he had with him were starting to roll up the ropes and break down the boards that they had been using. "You men get out of here!" the lieutenant waved them away as a flame shot up. He immediately sprayed it with a small fire extinguisher canteen that he had clipped to his utility belt. "There's no more you can do!" He waved his hand practically pushing the two soldiers out of the tunnel they had created.

The two soldiers looked at each other, "But what about you?" they asked.

"Don't worry," the lieutenant said. "GO!" The two soldiers obeyed the command of the higher-ranking officer quickly enough. They scrambled and crawled out. The lieutenant sat there just above the hole, his limbs dangled out for a little while, but he quickly retracted them as his legs and sucked them back into the tunnel as the flames grew higher and hotter. He was coughing up a storm. The whole room was filling up with thick clouds of smoke. "Come on, come on Mitoich!" the lieutenant called into the fiery pit that was forming. He looked down at the time piece on his wrist that doubled as a communication device. Time was running out. He had only about a minute. "Mitoich!" the lieutenant screamed. He got no response.

"Lieutenant!" the one of the two soldiers who had been in the tunnel with him called. They tossed him a line of rope. "Come on, get out of there" He looked up and could make out the faint blobs that appeared to be their heads. "There's no more time. Commander wants to bury that place to keep fires from spreading. Come on and get out of there."

"He still has a few seconds," the lieutenant called back he shook his head and refused the rope.

"There's no way they are going to get out of there Lieutenant, get out of there before we lose you too," urged one of the other soldiers.

"Never leave a man behind, soldier" he told the young Kytherian warrior. And so, the lieutenant waited. He waited cautiously and anxiously for mere seconds that felt like hours. His communication device started beeping. It indicated that Mitoich only had 10 seconds before the Commander of Communications was going to give the all clear for them to use the explosives a bury and destroy the catacombs. "Mitoich! Mitoich!" the Lieutenant called into the darkness. Seeing as though there was no response with regret the Lieutenant had no choice but to take hold of the end of the rope and allow himself to get pulled out. Of the pit. He gave the rope a hard tug and soon felt himself being reeled in.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant!" a faint voice called through the flames. A man crawled on his belly through the fire.

"Mitoich!" the Lieutenant shrieked excited as he let go of the rope that was reelin him in.

"What are you doing?" a horrified scream came from above.

Mitoich was pushing his way through the flames. The armor that the Aesir wore was flame resistant, but still he been exposed for too long and it was starting to take effects. He was starting to heat up. He could barely breathe. Flames were swirling all around him. All he could see was and endless sea of red and orange and yellow flames reaching higher and higher like massive waves, but he was like a merchant ship carrying such precious cargo. He had to make it through. He had wrapped Prime Minister Algrim in several rags and towels that he had found on the floor to protect the poor man from being burned as well. He hoped he was preserving him. He hoped he was alive. He was doing everything he could, but when he found the Prime Minister of Asgard's body he didn't have time to inspect it. He only had time to wrap it, grab it and toss it on his back like a sack and crawl for their lives.

He was coughing so furiously he felt like he could hardly go on. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe at all. "We can make it! We can make it," Mitoich muttered to himself while with every gasp smoke threatened to fill out his lungs. "You're gonna make it, Prime Minister," he swore as he dragged the two of them until he couldn't drag them any longer. He was winded and the smoke was thick and heavy in the room the air was hot enough to roast a chicken. "Don't worry, Prime Minister," he huffed out. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," he promised the man on his back. They were right under the hole in the roof where the people had escaped. They were right there. But he couldn't stand up, the smoke was too thick. "Lieutenant! Lieutenant!" Mitoich called once more between futile attempts to such in air that was filled with smoke and carcinogens. "Lieutenant!" he called as loud as he could. He didn't know if his voice could be heard over the roar of the flames and the crackle of the fire and the sound of breaking boards falling all around. "Oh Norns! Oh Norns! Please" the young warrior cried. "I'm going to get you out of here, Prime Minister," the young warrior swore. "Don't worry! Don't worry." he mumbled to the unconscious man. Just then a rope fell back down. It was a life line that had extended just beyond the hole. A glimmer of a smile stretched across Mitoich's dirty face. Mitoich reached up toward the rope. The flames were forming all around him and they threatened to burn up the ends of the rope! "NO!" he screamed as he watched the straw and tweed of the rope start to be burned up. Desperately, he reached his hand just over the fire. The flames still jumped up and singed his flesh. He screamed in pain, but pressed pass that to try and reach the fraying ends of the rope. He burned his hands as he did so. He screamed as his hand cut through the fire. But he managed to tie one end of the rope his own wrist so that he and Prime Minister Algrim could be pulled up.

"It's heavy! It's heavy! It's too heavy" Mitoich heard the shouts coming from the other end of the tunnel. Still, he held fast and did his best to lessen the amount of strain on the other soldiers by attempting to crawl through the tunnel himself.

"Come on men! Come on!" The lieutenant shouted to the soldiers. "Mitoich is down there and Prime Minister Algrim, we've got to get them out," he insisted as he grabbed the end of the rope and started pulling at it himself right along with the rest of the soldiers.

"We don't have any more time!" the Commander of Communications who was not a particularly loud man yelled out. "Bury those flames!" he ordered.

"But Prime Minister Algrim!" Mistress Eir protested as she grabbed hold of the young commander.

"But Mitoich!" one of the young Kytherian soldier called out.

The Commander of Communications managed to give pitying looks to both parties, but his orders were clear. If the fire spread even more innocent citizens would suffer. They people of Asgard had suffered enough. "We have to do it to save the city!" he declared with regret.

The soldiers looked at each other with great hesitation. They started the ready the explosives to through down into the catacombs and bury the ancient structure. "We gotta 'em! We got em! Sir we've got them!" The soldiers exclaimed as they pulled in the rope.

Mitoich could hear the commander shouting out the orders from above. He could hear the soldiers pleading begging for just few more moments to pull him and the Prime Minister in. Prime Minister Algrim was a thin twig of a man. Most Light Elves were. They were a fair race. He on the other hand was every bit the quintessential Aesir legs. He was strapping, tall, built like a bolder and with his armor on he was sure he weighed a good 50 pounds more. He felt the way the rope was stretched and strained. It was starting to untwine. He held fast to the Prime Minister of Asgard as he heard the men in his troop give a few more rousing heave-ho calls as they attempted to drag them up through the hole. There was a little slack with the rope. Mitoich decided to give extra insurance that Asgard's Prime Minister made it out alive. He pulled on some of the rope the middle and made a quick slip knot around Prime Minister Algrim's slim waist. It was a good thing the elfin court official was so thin. There was barely any rope to spare.

"Get them up here! Get them up here!" the Commander yelled once more.

"Alright men, you heard our commander," the lieutenant echoed. "He wants action! He wants results! This is the last effort! Pull with all your might!" he ordered.

The soldiers did exactly as they were ordered. They all gritted their teeth and bored down. Their brows were furrowed beneath their helmets as they concentrated on rescuing their comrade and the Prime Minister from a grim fate. There was a resounding shout of "HEAVE HO!"

Private Mitoich heard his friends make the call. He filled with hope. "We're almost out of here, Prime Minister Algrim," he assured the unconscious man and Prime Minister Algrim. He patted the prime minister on the back. Mitoich smiled as he saw the light appearing closer and closer toward them. He thought that he could scarcely make out the shadows and silhouettes of the rest of the troop. He felt the last valiant tug that his friends had given in an effort to rescue them. It was a strong and mighty pull and it seemed to snatch them up inches through the tunnel.

Now, maybe the scorched rope coat on a piece of jagged rock or root or a piece of rubble from the destruction. Or maybe the soldiers in their desperation to save their leaders and one of their own men just yanked a little too hard. Of course, they didn't really know how weak the rope really was, but whatever happened the part of the rope that Mitoich had tied around his wrist snapped and broke from the rest of the rope. Mitoich gasped as he heard the horrific, but faint pop of the stretched beyond its limit twine. It was a reflex, but as he gasped, he let go of the Prime Minister's frail and floppy form. The elf limply dangled from his waist at the end of the rope. Mitoich watched as the Prime Minister rose toward the light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn't much light, but it was something. He felt himself falling back down toward where the fire was consuming the hidden chamber that the healers had been hiding the sick in. "You can make! You can make it, Prime Minister Algrim!" He boasted. He tried to catch himself in the tunnel. And he did he grabbed hold of something and dug his hands deep into the wall of the dirt tunnel that his troop had managed to drill. He was grateful and relieved. He panted. He was breathing hard and tears threatened to push from behind his eyes. He could make it. He could make it He could make it! He wasn't that far away from the surface. He was merely a less than a mile deep now. He'd climb out if he had to and he did have to. He started to climb. He was ready and geared up to begin the rest of that long climb. But then... then he felt a terrible rumbling. He felt the ground start to shake. Mitoich gazed up in horror as he recognized exactly what was happening. They were smothering the fire. "NO! Help! WAIT!" the private called out as he scrambled and attempted to climb up the rest of the way. But all of a sudden mud and rock and dirt were raining down upon him in a torrential fashion. Trying to fight against them was pointless. The falling debris pushed him down the tunnel. He looked up as he fell. He couldn't see the Prime Minister. But he smiled as he knew that the elderly leader of Asgard had made it out...hopefully alive and so many good Aesir had made it out alive as well. "FOR ASGARD!" he shouted as loud as he could as the tunnel collapsed and the catacombs were buried.

The whole assembly gather around the hole that they had dug into the tunnel stood up cheering and applauding as a few soldiers managed to reel in the pair. There were warriors and healers and some of the infirmed as well who had all gathered around the hole to cheer and applaud, but the applause fell silent once the dust settled and the Aether ash blew away from their eyes and they realized that only one person had emerged from the tunnel.

Mistress Eir came rushing toward the hole. Many soldiers were gathered around, but their claps and cheers started to fall silent. "The Prime Minister! The Prime Minister!" she hollered as she pushed through the crowd. "Did he make it?' she asked breathlessly. The troops took a few steps back and made way for the revered healer. She hobbled forth, still injured herself. Their heads were bowed and bent and they started to remove their helmets. Mistress Eir immediately sank to her knees and practically crawled to the side of the Asgard's prime minister. He was wrapped in blankets and gauze. Some of which Eir remembered wrapping him in herself, but others were new and fresh. She peeled the blankets back. It was like unwrapping a package. She ripped layer after layer off of him. Then finally she found his smudged, burned and battered face beneath the covers. She could have cried when she saw it. He was scathed pretty badly, but he was alive, though barely breathing. His breath coming out in fit and starts. There were rasps and coughs, but he was alive. "Algrim," she whispered gently as she placed her hand on his cheek. She could take care of most of the damage she was sure. His lungs were in bad shape. "We need an air supplier," she called over her shoulder. The air quality was terrible in the city the Aether ash had created thick dust clouds that made it hard for all to breathe even if they were healthy, but for someone in Prime Minister Algrim's condition she feared that he would suffocate. There were too many sick and injured in the same condition as he. They had to get out of the city she knew. Soon a ventilation device was handed to the lead healer. It was one of the old devices that they had found in the catacombs, it was a hand pump. Certainly, it wasn't the most efficient method, but if it was all they had then it would have to do. Eir placed the mask of the machine over his mouth and nose. She squeezed at the air and hoped to pump so clean air into his poor, tired lungs. She gave several quick forceful pumps. Sweat and blood dripped from her brow and started running down the center of her face pass her nose like a river. She quickly wiped it away. She let out a smile and a laugh somewhat. "Private Mitoich we are all indebted to you," she called. "You have distinguished yourself and I am sure your superiors will have no problem promoting you," she searched the crowd for either the lieutenant or the Commander of Communication. Her violet eyes opened wide as she tried to find him amongst the crowd of spectators. It was then that she finally noted their mournful expressions. She finally landed on the lieutenant. He was closest to her standing right by where the hole for the tunnel had once been and now there was just a crater buried deep and filled with rocks and rubble and dirt, but there was no opening. She looked back her assistant, Khrysteenah. "Where is Private Mitoich," the elder healing woman asked.

Khrysteenah shook her head, "It would appear he didn't make it out, my lady," she stated.

"Oh, no!" Mistress Eir mumbled over and over to herself. She let a cry escape her lips. She was a healer. She was supposed to bring health and life back to people. Now, she couldn't help, but feel responsible for the young soldier's death.

"It's not your fault, Mistress Healer," stated the lieutenant. He glared over at the Commander of Communications. The man stood gaping in the midst of the chaos that had transpired.

Finally, the Commander shook himself. He was just as stunned as the rest of the small troop that he was leading that Mitoich didn't make it out. Everyone had been so confident that Mitoich and the Prime Minister were together. His heart pounded in his chest and beat recklessly in his ears. Mitoich was young. He was just a young volunteer. He didn't have to come to the Imperial city, but he had. He removed his helmet as he came up solemnly behind the elderly noblewoman. The Commander felt pain and guilt wash over him. He was not the most experienced man to lead a battalion. He really shouldn't have been in charge of an operation like this. It was not his level of expertise. He led his communicators and field technicians, but their job was more technical. They very rarely were in the thick of things. Very rarely had life or death matters been placed in his hands directly. They established communication, set up satellites, delivered telegrams and messages to and from outposts, training grounds and army base camps, they trained pigeons and ravens and doves to deliver messages. They broke enemy codes and helped form encrypted messages. He supposed he'd had one or two soldiers who'd been caught in retreat from a battlefield, captured behind enemy lines. His men and women knew how to fight well enough to get out or hold their own until reinforcements arrived. They were strong and hearty soldiers like any other in Asgard who had been trained how not to give into torture if it came down to that, but on his end it never had. He'd never lost a man before. He'd never even really come close.

If he understood battle better maybe this young man, Mitoich wouldn't be gone. Mitoich was truly the bravest of them. He was the one who had put the needs of the most vulnerable Asgardians before the mission and in a sense that was commendable, but that really shouldn't have been Mitoich's call. His years of military training had taught him that much. He shouldn't have given heed to Mitoich. He was just a low-ranking palace guard. The guard had a good heart, but he shouldn't have been allowed to make those decisions. Decisions that would end up killing him. He was the commander. Now his err in judgement cost this man his life. Mitoich was a good soldier, a strong fighter. They could have used him in the battle against the Dark-Elves. They'd need every man they could get. Now they had one less. And what of Mitoich himself. The commander had known little about the private. Was he a husband? A father? Surely, he was someone's son, brother...friend. And he was gone.

The Commander of Communication started to clear his throat. Mitoich was gone. They could sit around and lament, but that wouldn't change what had happened. The minutes were ticking by and even through the shadow that had covered the Imperial City he could see the faint trails of a new day making their way into the sky. In just a few minutes it would be dawn and their troop would not be in position. Mitoich had died for something. If they didn't carry on. If they didn't go on. If they didn't rendezvous and get to the city square who knew if there would be enough soldiers to save Asgard. Mitoich died trying to save as many Asgardian lives as possible and that is what they too had to do. "Let's take a moment to honor him," the commander announced rather quietly. There were people spread out and he was sure that everybody didn't hear. Some were screaming fighting for their lives and others were rushing about to tend to them, but for those who were there. Those who had been working to rescue Mitoich and Prime Minister Algrim, they would have the moment to honor the fallen comrade, friend and hero. The soldiers and healers bowed their heads. The soldiers removed their helmets and a notable silence fell among them. "Mitoich was the best of us," the commander stated. "He was the one who wouldn't let us go on without rescuing the infirmed and feeble of our brethren. He wanted to fight to save Asgard and...and that's...that's what he did." the leader of the troop acknowledged. "Our Prime Minister lives because of him. He ensured that Asgard would have a future and a government. He is a great man. Though he lived a simple life as a humble palace guard. He was a man who truly could have rode into battle with the mightiest of warriors in Asgard's history. He was the first of us to fall this day. He will not be the last," the commander warned. "And if more of us our to fall, let us fall as he fell, giving his all to save another." he ended.

The soldiers all stood proudly at attention and in utter silence for a few more moments. Slowly, healers and civilians started to disperse from around the crater where the catacombs lay buried and subsequently, brave young Mitoich as well. One of the young soldiers from Kytheria openly wept for his friend Mitoich. But there was little time for mourning. There was still a battle to be fought. He too only stayed a few more minutes. He said the last rights for his friend in the traditional prayer of the fallen that the Aesir recite. He took the lovely purple plumage from his helmet and stuck it in the ground in the center of the crater and walked away.

The lieutenant, Mistress Eir and Khrysteenah made their way over to the Commander of Communications who still had his helmet removed as he stared at the crater. "I made the wrong call..." the leader said.

"You did what you thought was best..." the lieutenant announced stoically as he let out a pent-up sigh. He didn't even listen to hear what the commander would say. He didn't know the commander well enough to know what type of person he was, what type of leader he was? He didn't have time to truly question the man's decisions or make counter arguments. They were about to face the biggest battle of their lives. They had to have trust. It wasn't a luxury that he could afford the let the man earn. In the end, a wild spreading fire would have jeopardized everything. They couldn't risk it. At least that was what the lieutenant tried to tell himself. "What are your next orders," He asked but he didn't face the higher-ranking officer.

The Commander of Communications swallowed thickly, "I...I... I suppose we need to help evacuate these wounded out of the city."

"Commander," he started. "We have to meet up with the other soldiers at the town square," the lieutenant insisted.

"We must honor what we started Lieutenant!" the Commander countered his voice stern as a stone. "We must honor what Mitoich started," his voice faltered a little as he looked down. He then looked at the two healers who had joined him. "Mitoich gave his life to help you all get out and he wouldn't have been satisfied if we just abandoned you," he expressed to them.

"Every one of these poor and infirmed and each of us healers owe our lives to you brave Kytherian soldiers and to Mitoich," Mistress Eir said. "But we can't take you all away from your mission anymore," the royal healer announced.

"Mistress, what are you saying?" asked Khrysteenah.

"We'll have to get the people out the city ourselves, Khrysteenah," explained the master healer. She placed her had on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Take them out of the city?" the middle-aged woman wondered aloud. "My lady how? There are only a few healers and we can't possibly carry them all and then where are we supposed to go. We can't make it over the mountain pass with so many wounded."

"We have to get out of the city," Mistress Eir stated.

"How?" Khrysteenah asked boldly. "My lady we have almost 400 injured, most of who are too incapacitated to walk. We healers alone can't carry them all." she pointed out.

"We'll have to make do," Mistress Eir, put her hand on her assistant's shoulder.

"Make do! Make do!" Khrysteenah started to shriek.

"We can help get some of the injured out Mistress Eir," the Commander of Communications offered. "We have horses and wagons and carts that can be used to carry the infirmed," he expressed.

Khrysteenah's eyes brightened at the thought of them receiving that type of help. It was certainly what they needed. She nodded her head vigorously. So much so that her hair fell out of the neat little bun that barely contained her salt and pepper locks. "Yes, Mistress, let's..." she started.

"No," Mistress Eir immediately cut her off.

"Mistress Eir what are you saying?" demanded her assistant. "We'll never make it pass the gates without their help." she insisted.

"My lady, with all due respect we didn't come this far and risk one of our own to help you to just abandon you," stated the lieutenant.

"You all have done so much. Each and every one of us is indebted to you, brave warriors of Asgard," the royal healer stated."But there is no more time!" she stressed. "Everything is in place and the hour grows late. Soon it shall be dawn and then it will be too late for all of us. I've done my best to preserve the lives of these men, women and children of Asgard," she pointed to the sprawled-out bodies of so many wounded who had suffered from the terrible ravishing of the Aether being unleashed for just a few moments. "It breaks my heart that I have let even one of our brethren fall," she looked back at the pile and mounds of rubble that had buried young Mitoich. Burial was such a disgrace for an Aesir. She shook her head and clutched at her bosom. "Mistress Eir tis not your fault!" the commander offered immediately. He reached out large hands to touch the woman, but she quickly recoiled and pulled the tattered cloak that she had on tighter around her. "It's mine," the military leader admitted,

Mistress Eir took the Commander of Communications by the shoulder. "I told Mitoich about the Prime Minister and I will bear the guilt of that for all time," she stated. "That was my own selfishness," she confessed as she nodded.

"Tis not true, Mistress," Khrysteenah wrapped a protective arm around the elderly healer. "There is nothing selfish about you. You have given all your life for centuries upon centuries," she stroked the woman's silver-gray hair and held her tight. Mistress Eir lifted up her large violet eyes and looked at the face of Khrysteenah, her faithful assistant. She tapped the younger woman, who was by no means a young woman herself and had spent so many of her own years by her side.

"The true person responsible for all this pain and suffering is Loki!" retorted the lieutenant. Khrysteenah echoed a sentiment that seemed to be in agreement. "It's him, that beast!" the Lieutenant spat! "Who called himself our prince!" His words rang in Mistress Eir's ear. She had cared for Loki when he was a sick little boy. She had seen him for what he truly was. She'd seen his body covered in fiercely frozen blue flesh and she'd seen the garish, hellish markings that had twisted and twirled their way on his skin and signified that he was indeed a son of Laufey rather than a son of Odin and she'd dismissed it as a curse and cared for him with the love and tenderness that a child of her king deserved. She'd taught him some of her healing as he grew older. She couldn't believe what he had become. "It's him and Malekith that have unleashed the Aether and caused all this death and suffering," the lieutenant kept pressing.

"Look what it has done to us, though," Mistress Eir started again. "We've lost too many!" she exclaimed. "Even one is too many innocents," she explained. "But we've lost so many more than just one," she shook her head and tears slid down her dirt cheeks that were stained with ash and dirt and grime and blood. "Now, imagine what it can do to the world...our world...to the Nine Realms!" she exclaimed. "You are a part of stopping that! This troop could make all the difference. You all must go on and make your way to the town square. Your battalion of warriors must be there when they fight to rescue Prince Thor! If we go on without you some of us may die," she admitted, "but if you are not where you need to be then... all of us could die!"

"Mistress Eir is right," the lieutenant stated. "We have to help fight and stop Ragnarök."

"We'll be alright," Eir explained to Khrysteenah whose face was stricken.

"You all will take the horses and the carts," the Commander of Communication said to the two healers.

"Those are supposed to transport our weapons and demolitions!" the lieutenant practically gasped.

"Have the soldiers start unloading them, now and quickly" ordered the Commander of Communications.

"You can't possibly be thinking of going to face the Dark-Elves with no weapons!" Khrysteenah called out.

"Of course not," the lieutenant immediately remarked. Then he side-eyed the commander. This man was not the most experienced leader and his methodology had proven faulty. He couldn't completely out of possibility what was in this man's mind, but he would not let the brave warriors of Kytheria.

"We'll carry our supplies," the commander informed him.

"The soldiers need the horses," Mistress Eir interjected. She raised her hands and shook her head.

"The soldiers are strong," he stated. "These are our weak and infirmed, they've already suffered from the Aether. Each soldier here is dedicated themselves to saving Asgard. And that is what we are going to do. That is what Queen Frigga would expect, what Prince Thor would want and that is what Mitoich was willing to do. We can do no less than he."

Eir looked up at the young commander. The elderly woman was about to say something. she was ready to protest him. Then she felt her friend's hand on her shoulder. "Mistress, there's no more time."

Mistress Eir looked at her friend and nodded. "You're right. Have the healers start helping situate the patients on the carts. The stronger ones can use horses," She explained. Khrysteena immediately saluted the lead healer then picked up her skirt to scamper away and tell the other healers. Soldiers, healers and patients were all moving frantically. The healers hurried as the carried patients on their backs. Solders transported their arms and patients all at once. They worked quickly and seamlessly.

There weren't many carts and there were even fewer horses. They had to pile the poor wounded souls in tight and thick onto the cart. They practically had to stack them on top of each other crisscross and in overlapping checkered patterns. They had 4 or 5 injured Asgardians strapped to horses' backs. They positioned them as gingerly as they could, but it was hardly gentle at all. They were slumped over. These were the ones who were half-way conscious. They were alert enough to at least try to keep themselves from falling off the horse. Still, the healers tied them to one another and to the horse as well. Barrels and boxes and crates that had carried bombs and crossbows and extra swords and all manner of powerful artillery were empty out the ammo and steel dumped on the blood-soaked ground so that the healers could package the injured infants and toddlers into them. The poor babies were crying and screaming; frightened from missing their mothers and also in terrible pain. Many had severe burns from the fires that broke out. Some had been practically buried alive under mounds and mounds of Aether ash and their little lungs were full of soot and their eyes had been practically blinded. If pressed the barrels had the capacity to hold about 10 babies. The healers and soldiers carefully tethered the crates and barrels to the horses.

"You're overloading the horses!" protested one soldiers. It was a young woman who was a stalwart volunteer. She was a stable hand in the Southern Palace for years. She had a way with the horses. That is what one of the stable supervisors said. She also was very good at shoeing the horses. She was recognized and promoted and worked her way up to training the horses for the palace guards. In return for her services a few of the palace guards had agreed to give her a few combat lessons. She hadn't thought much of it then. It was exciting to train, but it was more exciting to spend time with handsome palace officers. She never imagined that she'd actually be putting anything she learned to use. Especially, use like this. But here she was.

"We've got no choice, but to overload them," protested the young healing dental student. "What do you expect us to do? WE can't carry all these people on our backs," he pointed out to the hundreds being transported to wagons.

"Well neither can the horses!" the young woman protested back with a huff. "We need those horses for the battle," she argued as she grabbed one of the animals' bridle.

"Lady Astrid, is there a problem?" asked the lieutenant. He strolled over to her with collected and precise military strides.

The young woman turned around and snapped to attention. She raised her hand in a respectful salute. "Sir, no, Sir" she echoed loudly. The Lieutenant simply raised his eyebrow. She slowly started to lower her arm. "It's just these horse...we need them and I'm afraid that carrying so many people is gonna cause them to be too waylaid and too tired for battle" she explained.

"Lady Astrid, that is not your concern," the lieutenant corrected her. "We aren't waiting around for the horses to return. We will press on to the city square without them," he informed her.

"But the city in like one giant landmine! There's too much rubble and debris, buildings are falling down!" she insisted as she pointed to a crumbling edifice a few paces away from them. It looked like it had once been a strong and sturdy building. It was colored black like charcoal, but she had imagined that it once sparkled and glistened like a jewel in the sun. Maybe it was a bank or courthouse, maybe it was a school for music or art or maybe it had been a bathing house, it was nothing anymore. She watched as the Aether worked it terrible power on the building. The Aether had the power to alter matter and shift realities and what was once wondrous was now disastrous.

"It will be easier for us to maneuver without the horses, you'll see," the lieutenant encouraged. He also watched the building crumbled into dust,

"But, but, but..." the young horse trainer started to protest.

"Lady Astrid!" the officer's voice became more demanding. "You are a volunteer, are you not?"

"Yes, sir," she stated.

"You owe the Asgardian military nothing then and if you do not want to fight you don't have to but we have to get moving. If you wish the travel with the healers to lighten the load of the horses you may," he offered.

Young Astrid was dumbfounded. She gaped and her brown eyes blinked rapidly several times, "No, no, Sir" she stammered. "I mean that is... I owe the Asgardian military to do my best to help save Asgard. I'm a true daughter of Asgard through and through," she pledged. He didn't need to say another word she immediately took off and returned to her work helping unload and weapons and load up people.

"I think that we have things underway lieutenant," Lady Khrysteenah reported to the second in command of the rag-tag band of warriors who had saved their lives. She had two children strapped to her chest. She had another child tied against her back. Most of the healing equipment had been eaten up in the fire. They had been fortunate enough to escape with their lives. So, the healers had created makeshift stretchers out of planks of broken wood from the broken crates. Her hand was attached to one such contraption. Two others were assisting in the carrying.

"We should send men to help you," he countered seeing the stretch and strain on her. He knew it would be an arduous task for the healers. They'd already endured so much and many were physically weakened and injured themselves.

"No, not a one of you," she shot back. Sweat ran down her face like a waterfall. She was panting furiously. She didn't have a free hand to even wipe her brow. She shook her head at him sternly. She was certainly old enough to be his mother. "You all go! Save Asgard," she insisted. Somehow, she managed to give a wink.

He watched as she and the other healers started to move out. They got the wagons and the horses moving. The helped the injured who could somewhat hobble, they carried children and the elderly on their backs. They all looked like pack mules. They looked like beast of burden. It was sad to see his own people brought so low. And yet in their very lowly state he knew if they did not free Prince Thor if they did not win the day over the Dark-Elves and Loki, the traitor that things would only get worse for them. The lieutenant cast his eyes away from the healers instead he and the commanded immediately started barking out orders and clapping their hands to hustle the soldiers along. As the soldiers began to move out in the opposite direction, they heard a soft song rising up from the bent back of the brave healers. "The Fates loves Asgard, their glorious creation..." Their voice wafted off. They mingled with the howling winds..." The tears of Asgard are a passing aspiration... One more longing backward glance..." were the final words hummed by the weary healers and wounded souls. They were lost in the terrible shower of Aether ash splayed and sprayed all throughout the atmosphere. They could no longer be seen. The soldiers good only wish them the protection of the Norns and wish themselves the same as they journeyed toward the town square.

---

Lady Jane had checked and double-checked and then triple checked her machines. They had practiced sending little things, small things like coins and broken bits of granite that had fallen from the columns in the throne room from the first attack the Dark-Elves had rendered toward their fair kingdom. Lady Jane was still not satisfied. She stayed calling into the communication device that she had been given by one of the Asgardians. "Turn your settings up, Eagle team," she spoke rapidly into the mouth piece to the magicians and scholars and others who were stationed on one of the palace balconies on the backside of the palace. It had been for Jane's insistence that they had done that. Truth of the matter was Bardok hadn't thought that necessary, but Jane was anxious. She didn't want Loki to have any chance of having his vile plan come to fruition.

"It'll drain the batteries," someone of the other end called. She thought it might have been Lord Drek, he was a cautious man.

"Well can't you recharge it with your powers?" she heard a female call from the Eagle team.

Lord Drek cleared his throat. "No." he stated simply.

"What? What kind of Master Mage are you?" the person on the other line teased Lord Drek.

Lord Drek cleared his throat once again, this time it sounded like he was trying to roar. "I'm an alchemist!" he insisted.

"Lord Drek! Lord Drek!" Jane called as she pressed the center button on her communicator to raise the volume. "Can you still hear me? Come back in!" she stated ordering.

"Lady Jane! I'm sorry," the stately alchemist responded immediately hearing the urgency in her tone from the communication device. "I'm here."

"You don't need to worry about draining the batteries," she told him.

"Yes, we do my lady," he countered. "Most of our remotes indicated that the rods are only partially charged. Who knows how long the battle will last," he explained.

"Oh, it doesn't matter how long the battle last, Lord Drek," stated Bardok. He came up behind Jane Foster. He spoke into the communication device. He reached over and pressed a square button on the side of the little cylinder that enabled the communicator to show a fully colorized holographic image of Lord Drek. Bardok waved at his fellow mage. "Once Convergence is at its peak, we will only have an hour. Loki has a very small window of opportunity. And he knows it," he snorted as he thought of Loki. Once of a Prince of Asgard, once his teacher and probably one of the men he admired most. How could he have done this to them? How could he have led them to this?

"Well that's comforting," Jane chimed in. "We have more time to defeat them than they have time to defeat us," her voice was nearly bright.

Bardok turned to face her, "Yes," he said solemnly. "But don't get too excited Lady Jane Foster," young Bardok cautioned. "Loki is not to be underestimated."

"I don't underestimate that monster," Jane replied. The tired, warn down, frightened human look had gone from her eyes. Jane would describe it as being overtired. The kind of exhaustion that one had that made it so that she couldn't sleep. They kind of overexertion that left your spine tingling and every fiber over your being on raw edge. Her eyes were like big red sores. She felt like she could have fainted and ran a mile all at the same time. But when Bardok looked at her he saw the spirit of a Berserker inside. The Berserkers had been famed for their power. After the touched the staff they were given abilities that were beyond even the legendary strength of a typical Asgardian. Her trembling body reflected a body on edge. Filled to the gills with adrenaline. Her dilated pupils reflected the new found focus and drive and alertness that the warriors would get when the touched the staff. The bloodshot color was indicative of the bloodlust now present within the ancient soldiers toward their enemies. "Did you forget what Loki did to Midgard?" she asked with a vicious gleam in her eyes.

"I think that Loki and Malekith better not underestimate us," said Lady Leoma as she came from behind a column. "These machines you have created are impressive, Lady Jane Foster," she reminded her once more.

"Let's hope they prove hearty in the heat of battle," Jane muttered a reply. She was still nervous. So much was riding on her little invention. "Let's test it again," she stated. She was a scientist and she could never be too sure. There were too many variables. There were always too many variables. Theories had to be checked and triple checked and quadruple checked and check for a millionth time before they could be written down and proven into law. But this was deeper than theory, she thought. She loved science. She loved that it could explain things that would otherwise have been impossible to explain. She loved that theories helped to solve the mysteries of the universe, Copernicus, Galileo, Sir Isaac Newton, Eistein these names were the names of her heroes. They helped explain how the world goes round, but at the end of the day no matter how important their theories were, no matter how revolutionary, no one's life depended on it. This was different. The fate of all these people who had already lost so much was resting on the hope, the theory that her reactors could do what they were made to do in the moment when they needed them the most. Billions of others who were in complete and utter ignorance, they didn't even know that their lives were in imminent danger, they were dependent upon her too. The man she loved; he was depending on her. No pressure.

"Lady Jane we don't need to test anymore," the enchantress stated as she started to take the remote from her mortal hands.

Jane reflexively curled her hands tighter around her remote. "Yes, yes, yes we do!" the auburn-haired astrophysicist protested. Lady Leoma looked her in the eyes as well. She could see the stalwart determination in her hazel eyes. "You can always check something again! Lady Leoma, I would expect you to feel the same way..."

Lady Leoma put her hand on the human woman's shoulder. "There comes a time when we must leave things to Fate. You have done all you could and we are in position. Everything is ready...we are all skilled and able..."

"You may be skilled and able!" Jane twisted around and hugged herself. "But I'm not..."

"Lady Jane," Lady Leoma took her by the shoulders and spun her back around so that they were facing one another once more. Lady Leoma was a tall, willowy woman. She was beautiful with straight refined features. "You are skilled. You are the reason that we have gotten this far. No matter what happens we owe everything to you," she assured her as she squeezed her shoulders.

Lady Jane looked up into the older woman's eyes. She didn't know her that well, but there was something about her eyes that were tender and maternal and wise. She kept thinking that she would never see her mother again and somehow the hug from a motherly figure would have certainly gone a long way. "But we... we...we can't fail," Jane insisted toward the older scholar.

"We on Asgard have always known that one day Ragnarök will come, we fear it and yet we know that one day it will be inevitable," she explained as she removed her hands from around the mortal's feverishly trembling shoulders.

"Well I'm not Asgardian," Jane replied with a look of defiance in her eyes.

"Mmmm that is where you are wrong Lady Jane. I don't think any mortal has ever proven to be more Asgardian before in our history..." Lady Leoma gave a soft smile. To this the young scientist could only quirk her brows. "You saved our crown prince..."

"if you are referring to when Thor was on Earth...I didn't know..."

"You are the first mortal to visit Asgard in more than what?" she playfully counted on her fingers. "900 years!" she then flashed a gorgeous smile.

"Wait! Mortals...I mean humans have been to Asgard before?" Jane's eyes went wide.

"Of course!" she shrugged, "how do you think your ancestors wrote so many stories about us?"

"Alright, but...that doesn't mean..."

"You heard the song," Lady Leoma pointed out. Jane opened her mouth and looked very much like a cod fish. Lady Leoma wagged her finger in Jane's face and the gesture managed to smile.

"Lady Leoma, all of that is well and good," Jane started as she shook her head, "But the truth of the matter is that I am in way over my head here," Jane finally confessed. "There reactors weren't made for war or saving lives...someone's life could be dependent on these contraptions and if they fail..."

"An Aesir warrior is never not prepared to give their life in battle, our children are raised on dreams of such glory," Lady Leoma looked up. Her eyes gazing at the blown to bits glass ceiling. Her mind drifted to thinking of her own children. How she had tenderly raised them, loved them, taught them. They were adults now, most had children of their own. Her second youngest son's wife was expecting. She may never know the child by name, but by the Norns she was going to do everything within her power to make sure that that child had a chance to live in Asgard and to know its beauty and strength and majesty and magic of this glorious realm. That child would grow up free and good.

"Well, Lady Leoma...that's...that's exactly...exactly what I've been trying to tell you Lady Leoma," she pleaded. Her bloodshot eyes filled up with tears. She shook her head. She clutched Lady Leoma's hands. "I'm not Aesir! I don't think of dying in battle as a great honor," she explained.

"Yes, you do" the wise-woman nodded. She took Jane by the face and caught her hot tears on her thumbs and quickly swiped them away. The auburn-haired maiden shook her head vigorously. Her lips mumbled a no that no one could hear. "I see it in your eyes. The eyes of a Berserker," she admonished her. "Legendary warriors, the men who touched that staff and got that moniker, they were unstoppable," she exclaimed.

"But I'm not a warrior!" Jane started to sob. The tears were cascading down her dirty face. "I'm not a Berserker Whatever that is!" she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders all at the same time. "I'm not an Aesir...I...I have these weapons... I don't know how to use them... Please Lady Leoma, can you show me?" Jane asked with trembling fingers as she pulled out the beautiful golden arrows.

Lady Leoma softly shook her head. "I'm not much of an archer myself," the seasoned mage softly confessed.

"But you know something! You know something... you know more than me," she continued to prompt. Lady Leoma's normally stately looking mage apparel was ripped and torn terribly. Jane struggled to grab hold to a piece of fabric as every time she tried to class on to one the pieces of the sleeve, she just ended up accidently yanking it off. The silky purple fabric that was covered in grime tumbled to the floor. Finally, she grabbed hold of the woman's shoulder and just shook her desperately.

"I can't Lady Jane Foster," the enchantress stated. Her eyes which were pretty and dark looked a scant.

"What? Why?"

"Because...it's...dawn" Her voice drifted off. Her voice followed her eyes as they darted upward and toward the ceiling. The ceiling of the throne room which had once had ornate stained glass that reflected the sun so marvelously. But the Dark-Elves had mercilessly blown out the gorgeous glass ceiling. Those dismal creatures seemed to have hate for all that was beautiful.

"Dawn!" Jane gasped. Her hand fleeing to her lips. "No! No! It can't be," she nearly shrieked. "We need more time! We have to check... the reactors" she held up her remote.

"There is no more time for that," the mystic stated once more with her palm's touching Jane's forearms.

"Ladies! Come you have to get to your positions," Bardok cried as he rushed over to them. "First Light is upon us. The day of Convergence is upon us," he explained he took both of the women by the hand ushering them and pulling them along to get them to their respective hiding places.

"Merciful Yggdrasil," lady Leoma muttered to herself.

"Norn's help us all now," Young Bardok echoed her sentiments. He then turned to his fellow court mage and said, "Lady Leoma, I think it is best that you position yourself by one of the stairwells," He pointed out. "We'll need your powerful attacks to help keep the Dark-Elf soldiers from entering into the throne room,"

"I'm on it!" she declared immediately. "Have faith my friends." she said to them. She reached out her hand and gave Young Bardok's fingers one last firm squeeze. She then reached out to the astrophysicist once more. Lady Leoma's then arms wrapped the young woman in a tight embrace. "Do not forget the things that I have told you," she warned her. "Do not forget what I have told you that you are," she admonished. "If this day is won," she began with a smile on her face. "Then all of Asgard will sing of you," she foretold. The lead mage kissed her cheeks and then ran toward her position.

"Lady Jane, let's move you to the courtyard, shall we?" Bardok tried to hurry her along.

"I told you once Master Bardok, I'm not going to the courtyard, I'm staying right here," she yanked her wrist from his hand.

"Lady Jane Foster, this is no place to be, the fighting will be the most intense here. Malekith and Loki will stop at nothing to release the Aether," he warned her.

"And I will stop at nothing to prevent it. I have the master the remote. I need to be here. And if these are truly as formidable as everyone claims." she paused and flashes a quick glance at the golden arrows that she has tucked away in her cloak.

"W-w-what?" Bardok is baffled. "Lady Jane..."

"These might be the only things that can stop them," she claims. Young Bardok wants to argue. He wants to protest. He has several moral if not professional issues with placing Jane in the throne room. She's no mage and she's not necessarily a fighter. But she is clever. He sees that look in her eyes once again. That powerful look, a look of a woman who is ready to fight. The look of that is determined enough to match even the most battle hardened in their focus and resolve.

"Maybe your right," he admitted with a nod. "But..."

"We really don't have much more time to debate this," the female scientist states. "Now that it is dawn. Who knows how long it will be before the Dark-Elves arrive."

"Let's hope that the warriors can keep them at bay," A slow sounding and deep voice came from behind.

"General Hogun," Bardok immediately saluted the Einherjar general who had joined them.

"She is right, there is no more time," he stated. He placed his helmet on his head. "I will station myself on the ceiling," he pointed to a few rafter and beams that were not broken by one of the Dark-Elves wormhole creating bombs. It was just one sturdy pillar with a few thick marble pillars around it. It was about 75 feet over the broken throne of Asgard."I will watch out for you, Lady Jane," Hogun pledged. He put his right hand across his chest and pounded it three times and took to his knee. He quickly stood. "Come it is time," he stated to her. Bardok conceded with a nod. He took his position by the main entrance.

Jane followed Hogun. "Are you going to wait by the door with Master Bardok?' the quiet warrior spoke up. "There is not much covering here," he explained.

"I'll hide behind the throne if it's all the same to you," Jane stated.

Hogun grimaced. She saw why the name Hogun the grim was one that his friend had given him. He had a very pronounced frown. "That is a risky place to be," he stated.

"Someone must be there though, to protect the throne..." she stated.

"You are not sworn to protect the throne, Jane Foster...I am," he pointed out.

"And you are," Jane insisted. She reached out her hand to touch his and the member of the Warrior's three nearly recoiled. "But you may miss..." she began.

"I don't miss," Hogun the grim bristled.

"I'm not saying you do!" Jane shook her head. Her auburn locks tumbled in her face. She felt foolish for what she was saying. What was she saying? Hogun was a famed warrior. He had fought in countless battles; he was a member of illustrious Warriors Three. She was nothing, but an astrophysicist from Nowhere, New Mexico. "But we need to be sure." she said looking up at him. Hogun saw it. He saw the strength and the passion that she possessed. Maybe it came from her love for Thor or maybe it was just the natural instinct of all creatures to do whatever it took to survive. He imagined that this instinct was manifest 10-fold in mortals. Their lives were so brief after all. Whatever it was and where ever it came from he knew that she would be do what she must. "If this weapon really is powerful..."

"It is," Hogun told her. His eyes looked down at the arrows.

"if it really is...magic..." The word tripped off of Jane's tongue. She felt like a child saying it. Scientist didn't believe in magic.

"It is," Hogun answered ever abrupt.

"Ok," she breathed.

"They were enchanted by Loki himself," Hogun told her.

Jane Foster's eyes grew wide. "What! Really?" she gawked at the new found information. Well then it was certain so. She knew that Loki was a monster, but he was a monster with a reputation to uphold. He would never make a product that didn't work. "Then I have to be there. I have to be there. Position by the throne. So that when he tries to take a seat where he shouldn't he'll be undone by his own enchantment," she declared.

"It doesn't have to be you." Hogun stated. His voice was hesitant, but hardly so. "But there is no more time. Go!" the warrior bid her. He waved her off. She was only going a few paces from his position. He quickly scurried up the column. He pulled a whip from his belt. He snapped it and flung it around run of the beams and pulled himself up. He wedged himself between the column and the post. He made himself like a statue and watched like a hawk.

Jane hid behind the throne. Even in its dilapidated state it was still far more massive than she had expected it to be up close. She could have hidden about three more people behind that throne if she was pressed. She actually wished she did have three more people hiding behind it with her. She felt somewhat foolhardy for agreeing to take this position. She was starting to think that she should have listened to Bardok and made her position somewhere in the courtyard. The Dark-Elves were unlikely to spend most of their time assaulting the courtyard. Her plan was stupid. She slapped herself on the head as tucked her legs in close to her chest. She had on armor, but she felt as naked or as exposed as a newborn baby. Her breath was coming out quickly too quickly. Her teeth were chattering. She wanted to tell herself that it was simply the cold air of first light that was whipping through the open roof of the palace that was making her teeth chatter so. This was so stupid. She chided herself inwardly. She was an astrophysicist; she'd graduated with honors she had 2 . She should have known better. She should have though this threw more. Why didn't Hogun try to talk her out of it more? She wondered as he eyes glanced up and she tried to find the brave Einherjar warrior. He was only a few feet from her, but he might as well have been miles away as carefully concealed as he was. He could have tried to talk her out of this poor decision. She thought, but that would have involved Hogun talking more than was absolutely necessary. She shook her head surprised that she was able to laugh at a time like this. There was no point in looking around for General Hogun. He was at his post and he wouldn't give it up until the most opportune moment. She hoped that he wouldn't just let her die a gruesome death at Loki's hands, but at the same time she knew that he had a sworn duty to save Asgard. She was beginning to think that maybe so did she. Everybody was talking about her being an Einherjar and a Valkyrie and a Berserker...those terms didn't mean much to her, but Earth did. Her home, her family and friends...humanity...Thor. She had something to fight for too. She was the only one possibly fighting to save those things. "Alright Jane, alright," she muttered to herself steadily. "You can do this... you can do this," she told herself. Like Erik used to tell her when she'd get too worked up over research. The young scientist wrapped her hands tightly around her remote. She gulped as she held it. "You'll work. You'll work," she spoke to the little machine in her hands. With her free hand she felt within the folds of the cape for the magnificent golden bow and arrows that Lady Sigyn had given her. "And you'll work too," she reassured herself.

Jane tried to look around one last time. She craned her neck around the corner of the throne to see where the rest of her fellows were positioned. She knew that Bardok was supposed to be by the main entrance, two elaborately fashioned, large golden doors, she knew that Lady Leoma was said to be on the stairwell, there were a few others of the prevalent Asgardian scientists and thinks who had hidden throughout the throne room, there weren't many good places for hiding. Everything was left in ruins mostly. She imagined that the enchanters had made themselves invisible. That was a smart move. A move that she didn't have the ability to do. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and tucked her legs in tighter against her chest. She tucked them in so tightly that she could feel her heart thumping against her kneecaps. She tried to will herself to blend end to the gold and black gold and obsidian stone that made up the base of Odin's throne, but she doubted that her polished silver armor allowed her to do that. Panic raced across her mind and heart as she thought a most dreadful thought. What if the rest of the Aesir had abandoned her? What if they'd all left her in the throne room? Foolish Mortal! Evil Temptress who'd brought this scourge upon them. It would serve her right if they'd left her as a sacrifice. She guessed she couldn't blame a one of them if that's what they'd done, But the thought of it made her want to cry. She bit her lip feeling tears welling up, but then she heard it. She heard the song. "Take me in! Take me in! My dream recurring! One more longing backward glance!" tears welled up in her eyes streamed down her cheeks and she started to pat her feet to the beat.

---

Sigyn's legs and limbs were still kicking about wildly as she was slung over the back of a brutish Dark-Elf soldier. The blonde-haired daughter of Admiral Arn continued to ruthlessly kick and punch at the soldier. His armor was thick, but it had been a few minutes and Sigyn though frail looking had landed a few good wallops. The Dark-Elf grunted as he felt Sigyn's foot land a swift kick up his backside which was exposed from the armor. She kicked him again right in the same spot and this time he let out a painful yelp.

"Put me down! Let me go! Let me go!" Sigyn screamed in his ear. Her hands flinging and flailing and never failing in their continuance of slapping him upside his helmet. Finally, he'd had enough. He tossed her off of his back and on to a pile of broken bricks beneath them. Lady Sigyn fell onto the rubble and let out a cry as the sharp jagged edges of the broken bricks pushed into her spine and ribs. Sigyn started to scramble. Every move she made seemed to land her body in more pain as bricks and stone and iron and pressed into her flesh and cut her. It made it nearly impossible for her to move. She was gasping and breathless when the Dark-Elf warrior spun around and took hold of her ankle and proceeded to try to drag her along like a piece of meat. She looked up in abject horror at the bloodless face cloaked in an unfeeling mask that only revealed soulless, black, hollow eyes. The soldier swore back at her in the guttural grunting language of the Dark-Elves. He sounded like an animal ready to consume her. He let out another fearsome roar of words that made Sigyn shriek. Then he started to drag her along again, her back bumping over the countless stones from a temple that had been laid to waste, by the releasing of the Aether on the Imperial City. Sigyn reached out. She grabbed a brick and chucked it at the back of her captor's head. It caused him to lurch forward, it threw him off balance. He fell straight into the mound.

Sigyn was breathless, but just for a moment as she got to her feet and started to flee. As she stood up so did the Dark-Elf warrior. Sigyn's bright gold eyes looked around desperately. She found an iron rod sticking out of the bricks. She immediately grabbed it and readied herself in a defensive position. The Dark-Elf soldier was turned and facing in her direction. His helmet and mask had been thrown from his body and she could see his ugly face. The Dark-Elves were so different from their cousins the Light Elves of Alfheim. The Light Elves were pale, but they weren't bloodless, ghoulish looking fiends who looked like they had never seen the light of day. This Dark-Elf stared back at her with reddened eyes and a smile like a sneer that made her blood crawl. Lady Sigyn hoped that her face wasn't showing the fear that was welling up inside of her. The creature finally let out a chortle. He revealed his pointed teeth. He licked a blackened tongue over his ashy lips. He stepped closer. He was quite a large Dark-Elf. Impressive in stature and imposing. His massive boots seemed to crunch and crush the thick bright gold bricks that were beneath them. Sigyn gulped as he continued to approach. She would have run, but there wouldn't be much of a chance of outrunning the brute. She stood her ground. The blonde-haired waiting gentlewoman reminded herself that she was the descendent of great warriors. Her father was a decorated Admiral. She held fast to the iron rod that she had found and she started swinging it wildly and banging it against the bricks. She was making her best effort to look like a terrifying wild woman like the ones she had seen in a show once, The Wild Women of Musepleheim. It was a strange play. It was all about these young women who ran away from being slaves of Museplehiem and then got lost in the wilderness for years and formed their own society which was actually very advanced, but all the while they were pretending to be savages so that the Musepleheim trappers wouldn't want to enslave them.

She made great and valiant efforts to be as fearsome as possible. She pounded and swung and grit and bared her teeth like a rabid animal. But as her rod hit the golden bricks it just made golden flecks fly up into the air and intermix with the smoke and ash that was already filling the atmosphere. It swirled around Sigyn in a most mystical manner and although she was giving it her all, the Dark-Elf soldier didn't seem to be very thwarted by what he saw. He continued to advance. Throwing his head back and laughing at her. "Take one more step!" Sigyn warned. She stopped swinging for just a moment to catch her breath, "...and... and...I'll knock your block off!" she declared and raised the rod like a bat over her shoulder. The Dark-Elf merely spat at her warning. He was right in front of her reaching out once more to grab her. Sigyn hit him on his big, bulky hands. That smarted and stung him enough to cause him to bend over. She didn't waste any time after that. She immediately started to assault him. While his head was ducked down, she bashed him over the head with the rod. He let out a groan and stumbled to his knees. One of his bloodless hands was clutching his head and the other hand was pressed protectively against his stomach. WAP! WAP! CLUNG!" Sigyn continued to strike him. "Take that! Take that!" she yelled out desperately as she continued to hit him. She screamed and cried out as she hit over the shoulder and on the head a few times trying to get him down. "You like torturing people? You like killing?" she railed against him. Her arms were growing tired, but she didn't slacken in the beating that she was dispensing. He was bruised. He sunk down deeper and looked like he was about to collapse. He was on his knees. She could see a thick black ooze starting to leak from the back of his head. "Stay down!" the Aesir woman barked. Sigyn dragged the back of her arm across her face and wiped the sweat and grime, tears and snot away. One more blow. One more blow and that ought to do it she thought. She raised the rod all the way over her head and she was prepared to strike that final blow that would at least render this enemy unconscious if not dead. She gulped. She started to bring the iron down. One quick whack on the helmetless head and he'd no longer be a problem for her either way, then she could rush back to the catacombs and try to rescue the others from the fire. She had to get them out of the fire. She closed her eyes and with two hands and a pained expression pinching her pretty and petite features rapidly flung the rod down.

Her eyes were closed and she was holding her breath, but she had rendered the blow, yet she didn't hear anything. She didn't hear the thunk or the clunk and clang of iron smashing iron. With a gasp she opened her large golden eyes only to find herself dangling in the air from the other side of the rod in the air. Her feet kicking as she was hoisted off the ground. She looked down into ghastly, gleaming read eyes and cold white face, with a smile sickening and frightful. Foul breath was huffed back in her face that made her stomach turn. When her mouth flew open, she didn't know if she was going to let out a scream or simply hurl all over the creature. A shriek leaked out from her lungs. The Dark-Elf wrapped it thick brass gauntlet covered hand around hand around Sigyn Arndottir's thin neck. She gasped but her scream was cut short as her air supply decreased. Sigyn's hand immediately scrambled toward her neck as she tried to pry and peel the brass fingers from around her throat. It was to no avail. Tears feverishly pushed from behind her eyes. The Dark-Elf flung her weapon to the side. It flew yards away. "You're becoming more trouble than you may be worth, girl," he spat at her as she tried to suck in air. He twisted his head as he looked at her. He studied her features. "Sure, are a fine and dandy prize," he taunted one of his metal covered fingers straying to trace her cheekbones and play on her cut lips.

"No... prize!" Sigyn panted.

He shook his head as he looked at her. He mashed his lips together and then licked them once more. "You know this is what we do, girl," he warned her. "Taking little beauties like you back to our villages on Svartalfheim... and oh the things we would do to little beauties like you," he laughed.

"...Dark...World...is...dead!" Lady Sigyn spat.

The warrior of Svartalfheim growled. He squeezed tighter on her neck and shook her violently. "And you can be dead too, like the rest of your miserable pathetic race, for all I care!" he hollered and his rank breath soared into her nostrils. "You're more trouble than your worth," he continued to mutter. "But I haven't tasted a woman in so long..." his eyes roved over her form. "Thought maybe you'd be a little smarter and know how to beg and kiss my feet and maybe get a decent seat at the execution to save your own hide to be a slave girl," he smiled with closed lips in her face as he watched the color fade out of her cheeks.

Legs still kicked in the air and fingers still earnestly pulled and tugged for her neck to be set free. She reached her hand out the try and scratch those bloody eyes right out of that bloodless face, but he held her too far off. "not...very...smart..." Sigyn told him as he breathing grew shallower.

"That much is obvious," he chuckled and continued to press his thumb into the arteries in her neck. "Come, girl, you and I have a date at the gallows," He stated as he held her by the throat up in the air and started to carry her away. Things were starting to blacken for Sigyn. Her vision was swimming in and out of focus. Her arms flailed about clumsily. They fumbled to find something that she needed in the folds of her cloak. She felt something hard and cold tucked away in her pocket. Her grip was weak, but she marshalled the strength and energy to clasp at it. The Dark-Elf carried her along like a sack of meat. He was barely aware of still beating pulse. He held her far from him and she could barely see as things were becoming blurry. She silently with the fleeting energy that her mind could muster begged the kings of the past to give her the strength. Lady Sigyn didn't know if she flung the dagger or if it just dropped out of her hand into the right spot. But whatever happened, just as consciousness was slipping from her grasp so did the dagger and it fell and hit the mark right on the back of the neck.

The Dark-Elf's colorless skin was a tough hide. But the perfectly sharpened dagger sliced through the milky white flesh. It dug and rooted in his skin. The sparkling silver handle of the knife sticking out the back of the Dark-Elf's neck just right over the shoulder-blade. The creature let out a wail. Instantly, in pain he forgot about Sigyn for just a second and released her neck and dropped her back into the huge pile of bricks. She yelped slightly as air refilled her long too constricted lungs. Her heart was pounding as she fell on her hands and knees. Her eyes were still bleary, but she watched as the soldier did a painful jig trying to pry the dagger from his neck. A thick looking inky substance sprayed from the spot where the knife had lodged its way into his flesh. Finally, he yanked it out of the back of his neck. It dripped with the black liquid. The drops of dark blood fell and smeared the golden mounds of bricks. Sigyn quickly pushed herself into a sitting position. She still gasped and tried to stand, but her throat ached to bad. The terrible Dark-Elf loomed right above her. Her own knife now a dagger for her own sacrifice. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared up and the merciless enemy before her. His eyes were blood and full of rage and heat and hate. He shook fiercely and made stabbing motions over her body as he hobbled closer. The blonde-haired handmaiden felt as if her chest was going to explode. She fumbled with her fingers and tried to throw a brick at him, but he was unphased. His armor nigh impenetrable. The golden block didn't even phase him. He muttered something in his mother tongue. He licked his ashy lips and allowed his tongue to roll across his pointed teeth. "More trouble than you are worth!" he repeated to her as he kept yanking the dagger back and forth.

He was right over her. Everything was obscured in darkness. There was so much darkness, he cast an even heavier shadow of gloom over her. Sigyn's teeth chattered. Her lips trembled and water flowed out of her eyes. She was out of tricks. And more unfortunately, it looked like she was out of time. "Merciful Yggdrasil! Merciful Yggdrasil!" she muttered over and over. Perhaps she would be the first to die, but perhaps that was a good thing. She'd seen too much death and too much destruction and she didn't know if she wanted to live in a world where all the light had been destroyed. She didn't know if she could bear to live in a world where everyone was nothing more than a slave or where Loki really was a monster. Maybe that's all that he was. Maybe that's all he had ever been and maybe she was just silly, stupid woman who could be easily tricked by a charming grin and a silver tongue and bright emerald eyes. She closed her eyes as she once more felt the Dark-Elf's cold fingers wrap around her flesh. His hand tightly held her wrist yanking her up. His red eyes looked back and forth between the dagger and her. "DO IT!" she challenged.

"With pleasure!" he growled and once more raised a hand to strike a killing blow. Sigyn waited. Baited breath, bracing herself for the pain. But the Dark-Elf's eyes darted upward one more time. The deep-seated darkness of night and the residue of the Aether was slowly starting to give way. It was faint, but somehow a glimmering sliver of light was starting to burst through the fog and clouds. "The dawn," the fiend mumbled.

"Dawn!" Lady Sigyn Arndottir gasped once she finally opened her eyes to behold a breath of first light peeking through. "Convergence!"

"The Convergence!" the Dark-Elf exclaimed. "For 2000 years I've waited! I pledged myself to this day!" he swore. "Svartalfheim was destroyed because of you Aesir!" He spat at her. "I slept too long dreaming of this day. The day the Dark-Elves would have our revenge and would reign supreme once more," he chuckled cruelly.

"Never!" Sigyn protested.

"You'll not keep me from having my moment in the glorious plan of Lord Malekith," he stated. "I'll not miss out on my reward," he explained. "Not even for one such a fair as you," he teased as he rubbed his cold fingers against her dirty cheek. Sigyn attempted to twist her face from his hold, but he only toyed with her more and more. "And you'll have a front row seat to watching your beloved prince fall," he reported to her.

"NO!" Sigyn shouted and when the soldier's hands against came to play and bounce on the flesh of her lips she bit him hard enough to taste the nasty black blood that coursed through his veins. She wished that he truly would have been bloodless for as nasty as his life juices tasted. It tasted just like bile.

"UGH!" He cried as he snatched his hands away from her biting teeth. "NOT WORTH IT!" once again he declared. He landed a smooth and heavy backhand right upside Lady Sigyn's hand. She was unconscious instantly. Her body flew from his hand and landed in the dirt right beside the pile of bricks. He looked over at her. A waif. Her still form looked like a broken doll. He doubted she was still alive. If she was, he would simply come back and find her when the day was won. She'd make a perfect spoil for the victory celebration. He rubbed his palms together as he thought of having his way with her after they'd beheaded the grandson of Bor. But he'd not miss that. He'd not miss that for the wide world. He ran back toward the square.

---

"Mistress Eir!" called the young healer. She had been trudging through the dirt and leading a horse through the minefield that had once been the Imperial City.

"What is it young one?" the lead healer called. She had several children in her arms that she was holding.

"There's a body," the young healer expressed as she pointed to a face down female form lying just off of a pile of golden bricks.

"A body? A body!" shouted the young healing apprentice. He was panting heavily as his back was bent and he had three elderly men on his back. "There are bodies all over the place!" There were. They had thought that most of the people had been evacuated into the catacombs and they were safe in the underground bunker that the ancients had created for them, but as the had emerged they had found that city street was strewn with their people. Rich poor, young and old, soldier and civilian had all fallen at the power of the Aether blast. Mistress Eir had been on many battlefields, she had seen much in her many centuries of life, but seeing this level of destruction in her own home was more heartbreaking than she had ever anticipated. Walking through the Imperial City was like walking through a grave yard. The streets were littered with corpses.

"Should we check it?" The young healer asked.

"They are dead, they are all dead!" the young apprentice stated to the other healer. His body was still slouched over like an old miller carrying heavy loads. He grabbed the young woman by the shoulder. "Come on, you know they are all dead," He stated. He looked up at her with pleading and tired. They were red and watering from being stung by ash and smoke that swirled all around. He could hardly breathe. He was tired of lugging bodies. He felt like he might collapse. He wasn't saying what he was saying to be cruel. He cared very much. Mistress Eir had commissioned them to check some of the bodies as they were making their way to get outside the city. But they had stopped several times. They had checked so many bodies, and the truth was, they hadn't found one single survivor. "They are gone," he insisted to her once more. "They are just casualties of Loki's rage," he shook his head and his brown eyes held an angry glow. "And we will be too, if we don't get out of here," he pointed out.

"Well, I'm certainly glad that Private Mitoich didn't think that about us," confessed the young healer. She wriggled her shoulder free from the clasp of his thick dirty hands.

The young dental students' eyes dropped. He had to admire his new friend. She had been the one to insist they rescue Prime Minister Algrim. "You chose to be a healer," he said as he looked at her. The glow of anger in his eyes had dissipated and it was replaced with a look of tenderness. "I don't know, maybe you missed your calling," he shrugged and nearly laughed as he readjusted one of the elderly men who was slung over his back. "Maybe you should have been on rescued squad."
"Oh no, I chose the right profession," she assured the learner. "I chose to be a healer to be a healer to save lives. As many as I can. And that's what I intend to do," she pointed to herself just as she dashed away toward the form that was lying on the ground. She didn't have much time. The group was moving on. They had to get the injured people to the outside of the city. She practically leaped over the mountain of golden stones to get to the female body face down in the dirt. She led the horse over as well. The strong thoroughbred that was loaded down men and women followed her dutifully. The young healer knelt down beside the woman. She slowly turned her over. She had a bad contusion that circled around her whole neck. Her lips were bleeding and so was her head. The healer reached out her hands to inspect the other woman. She noted that despite the bruises and wounds that she had sustained she was a pretty woman, a classic Asgardian beauty. But she could be beautiful and dead. Tentatively, she searched for a pulse along the neck. She found it. "She's alive! She's alive!" the healer exclaimed as she called out the other healers. The other healers hooted and wooted and beckoned for the survivor to be brought along. The healer managed to lift the other woman up and on to the back of the horse, but noting her injuries she didn't think that it would be good to let the woman's head just dangle and bobble. "I need help!" she called out to the team of healers who were desperate to get out of the burning city. "Help! Help!" she called out to the team of healers. They were too far ahead. The winds were howling. She continued trying to call out over the winds but it seemed as though no one could hear. The healer slapped the horse on its flank to send it racing after the rest of the troop. There was no reason for these other wounded souls to be lost as she struggled to carry the other maiden out of the mud. She braced the woman against her stomach so that if her head flopped back it would not fall. She struggled the healer was already exhausted. Her strength was practically gone. Her limbs were shaking. Just as she felt that she was about to collapse through the fog and haze of the Aether ash she saw the young dental apprentice trotting back toward her. He still had three elderly old me slung across his broad shoulders, but somehow, he managed to scoop up the young woman in his arms and carried her off.

"You came back!" the young healer exclaimed as she grabbed the horse by its bridle and led it toward behind the young healing apprentice.

The pudgy student started to laugh. He didn't have a free hand to wipe his brow. Sweat dripped down it. "Yeah, this is the second time I've had to rescue those who you are trying to save," he tried to look over his shoulder as he spoke to her.

"She's alive though," the female healer stated with relief.

"You have a knack for finding the live ones," the dental apprentice confessed. "When I signed up to become a healer, I honestly was just planning on helping the less fortunate with getting golden teeth," he attempted to chuckle. He had lived in a small fishing community in the north of Asgard. He had always wanted to live in the Imperial City. He hadn't had much growing up. His family were just simple peasants, but they scrimped and saved and did everything they could so that when the time came, he would have the opportunity to improve his station in life. He thought he would end up with a cushy appointment making a good bit of money and then he would be able to send for his parents and give them a nice relaxing life. The one that they deserved. And he'd help his brothers and sisters once they were old enough to get into the fine universities of Asgard too if that's what they wished. Now he was running, fighting to escape the Imperial City.

"I think we all got much more than what we bargained for on this day," she expressed.

"Well not you," he said as the breath started to come out quicker. "You said you wanted to save lives."

"As many as I can," she confessed again. A smile spread across her face as she started to run and pull the horse along with her. The poor animal could hardly run as it was so weighed down with broken bodies and wounded warriors. "And you?" she asked as she managed to catch up to the apprentice.

He looked up as best he could. His neck and back were bent and he was trying to manage not to fall over as he made his way over the cracked streets and cause further injury to those placed in his hands for care. "Well..." he paused and sucked in air. "I..I'm a healer...so saving lives, that's what I do," he winced and winked at her.

"I can see the gate! I can see the city gate!" Khrysteenah called to the healers and to the infirmed. Her voice sounded like a whisper over the roar of the swirling winds that were whipping from the mountains and into the city, but the pair in the back heard her.

"The city gates! The city gates! They say they can see the city gate!" the young female healer called out enthusiastically. She practically jumped in the air as she slapped her new found friend on the shoulder to alert him to the good news.

"What? I can't see a thing? How can they see the Aether Ash seems to be getting thicker," he expressed his head still bowed toward the ground.

"If they can see the gate then we must only be a few miles out. We can make it!" she exclaimed.

"It must be nearly dawn now, but we can't see the light." he shook his down cast head. "What if the execution has already begun?

"No, it hasn't, don't think like that, we can make it," she pressed him.

The younger man started to stumble. He felt like his knees were buckling under him. "I don't know if I can make it," he stammered. The weight of the bodies was becoming too great for him. She watched as he stumbled onto the ground. He was doing everything he could to keep the young woman in his arms from hitting the ground.

Her eyes went wide. "Yes! Yes, you can! Yes, you can!" she dropped down beside him and placed her hand on his back (the parts that weren't covered by legs and arms). "Come on you can do it. I'll help you," She told him. She braced him and wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders and started to hoist them up.

He shook his head. "These people have to make it out of here alive. They'd come to far... not to," he stated through gritted teeth.

"So, have we. So, have you!" she urged. "Come on... I can get some of these people onto the horse," she reported as she looked at the stallion who was literally pulling the weight of 10.

The apprentice healer looked over at the animal. He recognized the creature's pain and frustration because it matched his own. "One more pound and it'll be the straw that broke the camel's back," he told her as he listened to the horse give out uncomfortable whinnies and neighs.

"Then, you definitely have to keep going!" the young healer encouraged the young apprentice. Together they limped and hobbled along. They bore the weight of others as best they could and quickly made their way behind the rest of the escapees. "Do you see that? Do you see that?" the young woman pointed out. "It is the gate...we are almost there," she told her friend. He was struggling, breathing hard and leaning heavily on her. The gates to the Imperial City were enormous structure. It stood practically as tall as a mountain. It was made of pure white limestone and with bars around it overlaid in gold. It was considered a marvel. It dated back to the time of the ancients. The times of the Einar when the 7 feuding clans controlled Asgard. It was built by the strongest clan to protect them from marauders. There were magnificent towers on all four sides of the city gate. These watch towers stood tall and proud and erect. They were great marble columns and the watchtowers were outfitted with immense weaponry to protectant the city and the palace. From there airships could be launched at will firing thousands of rounds of blasters, but all that hadn't saved the Imperial City from the vicious attack that the Dark-Elves had launched on them. The first one a terrible sneak attack in ships that couldn't even be seen by the great Heimdal's eyes. The second launched from within and orchestrated by Loki. The young apprentice healer strained his head and neck, but with gasping breaths looked up and squinted and saw the shadowy outline of one of the watch towers.

He nodded and gulped, "Yes! Yes! I see," he confirmed. "You're right! You're right!" he huffed out. He wrapped his arms firmer around the maiden he was carrying. "we are almost there...we can make it!" he told her and he offered a pained smile to his new found friend. They both managed to pick up the pace just a bit. "Is that light or am I about to pass out and die?" the pudgy young man questioned as he was now practically racing toward the gate with so many on his back.

"No, no," the female healer shook her head. She continued to pull the younger healer along. She had urged him with her words as well as her body, "it's light...it's first light. The sun isn't over the mountains yet. But we only have a few minutes to get out of the city before dawn," she explained.

As they drew closer to the gates it became obvious that the once stately structure was crumbling. The columns were falling to bits as they made their way through them. It was hard to behold. Those most worth walls which had always stood proudly since the foundations of Asgard were falling apart right before their eyes. They managed to slip through the crumbling rocks and bits of brick that cascaded down from the watchtower.

Once the band of healers and the wagons and horses full of the wounded and feeble Asgardians managed to slip through broken city gates they rested just outside the city limits. "My lady," Khrysteenah came up and toward Mistress Eir who was starting to empty some of the meager healing supplies that they still had left onto the ground to start getting back to the business of attending to the sick. "My lady, shouldn't we try to press on further and get further away from the city," she urged.

"We can't go any further Khrysteenah. These people are too weak. That was the whole reason why we were hiding. The horses and healers are exhausted as well" the master healer pointed out to her assistant.

"Yes, Mistress Eir, but we aren't even 3 miles away from the gate and if the worst should happen, we'll be sitting ducks!" she explained nervously. She actually started biting her nails.

Mistress Eir placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "There is nowhere left to run Khrysteenah," she stated, but her purple eyes were misty. "It is nearly dawn," she pointed out. Her dirty, wrinkled hand pointed shakily toward the horizon line where slivers of pinkish purple light seemed to be trying to pierce through the veil of darkness that the Aether ash was cloaking them in. A shiver went down the elderly healer's spine as she looked at the opaque atmosphere that they were wrapped in. This was only a taste of what was to come. Loki and Malekith had only released the Aether for a short amount of time. Once the Convergence came then light all across the universe would be snuffed out completely. It was dreadful. They had but a few measly hours to stop this calamity. "Let's try to unburden the horses and the healers and set up some type of refuge for these people," she pointed to the weary souls who were all cramped together uncomfortably in wagons and on horseback. "Let's count our supplies and the people and try to make them as comfortable as possible," she instructed.

"But my lady," Khrysteenah started to protest. "If a battle ensues won't we need supplies to help tend to the wounded soldiers?" she asked with wide eyes.

"We can only worry about one problem at a time, my dear," Mistress Eir's tender, but grubby hands reached out to tap her longtime assistant lightly on the cheek. The woman was well into her middle-age, but Mistress Eir looked at her as she did a daughter. "We must care for those who we have charge over now," the wise chief healer expressed.

"Yes, Of course, mistress. I will get the teams on it right away," she said stepping lively back into action. Khrysteenah didn't waste time barking out orders for the other healers to follow. She was used to working on battle fields and she knew how to set up a makeshift healing ward out a bare material in a matter of minutes. Quickly, the healers went to work. They rolled the people out of the wagons and off of the backs of the horses. They tried to find blankets and clothe and any fabric materials could to get the injured on. "Make sure every person is accounted for," Krysteenah charged the healers.

One of the healers had a scroll. She walked around taking names of both the injured and the healers who were accounted for. "Who is this?' the healer asked as she came upon the apprentice healer who was studying dentistry. He was collapsed on the ground next to three elderly Aesir men who were shivering fiercely and an Aesir maiden. The healer who had a large scroll in her hand.

"We don't know," the apprentice healer said breathlessly from his back.

"Don't know!"

"We found her," expressed the young female healer who was carefully starting to peel some of the people off of the backs of the horses. She carefully lowered the men and women most of who were unconscious onto the gravelly ground right outside the city limits.

"It wasn't a 'we', it was she," the apprentice healer pointed his plump fingers toward the young female healer although his eyes still remained closed. "She is a master finder," he smiled to himself. "She's also the one who found Prime Minister Algrim," he noted.

The other healer raised his eyebrows. His brows were slightly singed. "Really?" he asked.

"Prime Minister Algrim was calling for help... I didn't do anything," she expressed as she straightened the men and women and children out. "Do we have any water? These patients need water," she stated earnestly, her large brown eyes looking up at the senior healer. She swiped her hand across several feverish brows.

The senior healer scratched his chin, "There aren't many supplies to spare, but if we have any water it'll be in the wagons over there," he pointed toward a few mud-covered wagons that they had encircling the wounded Aesir. The young healer nodded before immediately rushing off and jumping over the bodies of coughing, fitful, feverish, injured souls.

"She deserves a medal," the apprentice healer pointed out once more. His voice started to drift off. He was exhausted.

"Perhaps she does," the senior healer stated as he watched her run like a young gazelle, leaping and bounding and moving as quickly as possible to get a pitcher of water for the infirmed people that were under her care. "I will mention her name to Mistress Eir, but right now we have to find out the name of this young woman," his eyes darted downward to look at the woman with golden hair and lacerations her neck. The healer immediately started to examine the woman. He inspected her for any identification that she may have on her, a family crest or heirloom that she possibly wore, a locket with family pictures inside. While examining her he noted her injuries. There were bruises and cuts all over her face. Her nose had a small trail of blood leaking from it. As he looked at her neck, he observed the severe markings that were on it. It showed signs that she had been choked. "Poor girl," he said pityingly. Her ankle was starting to swell and as he pressed his hand to her forehead, he sensed the concussion that she had. Her breathing was somewhat irregular, but despite here injuries, that were rather severe, they were not insurmountable and it probably wouldn't take much to heal her. He knelt down over her and noted the ring on her dirty fingers. It was solid gold signet ring. "This is one of the rings that Queen Frigga gave to her ladies-in-waiting," he stated a loud. The filthy looking little waif didn't look much like a courtier, but he supposed none of them looked like their station. She could have been a thief, he supposed, but that was of little consequence. Even if she was a thief, she didn't deserve whatever tortures she had received.

The female healer ran back over carrying buckets of dirty water. "This is all I could find," she expressed breathlessly as she plopped the buckets down by the senior healer's side. The filthy contents within the pails sloshed out.

The senior healer looked down at the dirty water. "It won't be much good for drinking," he stated. "But we can try to remove some of the impurities to use it for healing," he informed her.

Her eyes darted about nervously, "I can try to find a strainer," she offered.

"No there is no time for that," the older man insisted. "We'll have to do it the old-fashioned way," he told her. She nodded and closed her eyes. She had learned the technique of course, but as Asgard had developed more and more technologies some ancient practices had become less and less vogue, but she didn't have time to doubt herself. She sank to her knees along with the other healer. The two of them placed their hands over the water. The senior healer waved his hand over the one bucket causing the water to swirl like a mini cyclone. She rubbed her hands together. She rubbed and rubbed very vigorously until her hands were hot. She closed her eyes and her hands started to shake. Then, almost instantly the dirt and grime from the water started to float to the top. It settled on the top for a time and then it gravitated toward her hands. Soon her hands looked just as dirt as if she'd just painted them with mud. The two of them wasted no time in using the water to treat the injured citizens of Asgard. They cleaned wounds, cooled temperatures and revived the people as best they could. Including, the mysterious young woman that had been found in the midst of the rubble of the city.

"Do you have a list of names?" Lady Khrysteenah asked as she came over quickly to the pair of healers.

"All but one," the senior healer stated as he inclined his head toward newly found young woman. "She was saved from inside the city when we were evacuating," he explained. He then inclined his head toward the young healer who had saved her.

The young female healer, Randi continued working her ministrations and wiping the woman down. She focused on relieving the pressure from her head and healing her concussion. "I'm almost done. She should wake soon. We can ask her who she is," she stated.

"If she even remembers," the senior healer went on as he dried his hands, "that's quite a nasty knot that the poor dear has on her head."

"It's going down," the young healer kept her energy concentrated on her patient, she focused on targeting the swelling.

Krysteenah shook her head, "we won't need to ask her," she stated. "I know exactly who she is," a gasp and a smile escaped her lips.

"Well then who? Who is she?" asked the apprentice healer, he had managed to roll his pudgy body over and was crawling toward the other healers. "I most certainly would like to know. I carried her a couple of miles!" he protested.

Randi gave a chuckle and her patient started to stir. Slowly, he eyes fluttered open. They were big, bright like the sun golden eyes. She grabbed her head, then next her throat. "I'm Sigyn Arndottir," she announced delicately as she blinked up at the unfamiliar faces around her. All of a sudden, she was gasping and coughing and shaking something fiercely. "Please! Please! Please!" she started to beg. Her eyes growing even wider, "You have to help me! You have to help me!" she pleaded. Her arms reached out for Randi. "The catacombs, the catacombs!" she started to scream. "The Dark-Elves...the Dark-Elves...they...they set it on fire, people...injured people are trapped down there, you have to help me! We have to help them," she explained frantically.

"Easy. Easy, Lady Sigyn," the middle-aged assistant healer to Lady Eir said soothingly. She patted the air while Randi rubbed the woman's back. "It's alright...it's alright," she whispered.

"No! No!" Sigyn swung her head and her dirty platinum locks started to slap her in the face. She was getting worked up. She was starting to hyperventilate. Randi pressed her hand to the other woman's chest. She tried to massage her chest area and hoped to open the lungs a bit. "They need help! They are trapped...they'll all die."

"We're alright Lady Sigyn, we're alright," Lady Khrysteenah expressed and she gave a kindly smile.

Finally, Lady Sigyn's eyes seemed to be opened. Recognition fell on her. "Lady Khrysteenah?" she asked blearily.

"Yes, my dear, yes," the older woman nodded as she took her by the shoulder and cheek.

"You all made it?" she questioned. The healer could only nod. "How'd you all get out?" she wondered.

"The Queen's soldiers from Kytheria, they came they...they saved us...they got us out just in the nick of time," Lady Khrysteena explained.

Sigyn bowed her head and bit her lip. "Thank the Norns of old," she pronounced.

The senior healer nodded. "It seems as though they have still given us a bit of a chance," he stated as he stripped himself of his healer vestments and draped his shawl around the lady-in-waiting's shoulders.

"Let us pray it is enough," Sigyn insisted. She started to look around. She became more aware of her surroundings. She noticed how many wounded they had lying out. They were battered and bruised but they were still alive and that was the most important thing. "What about Prime Minister Algrim?" she asked as if startled.

"He's been rescued," Lady Krysteenah told her. "It's thanks to these fine souls right here," she gestured to Randi, and the young apprentice healer who was studying dentistry. "The same one who rescued you, milady," she added.

The plump young man started to blush, "Lady Khrysteenah is being too kind. She also helped rescue the Prime Minister," he explained.

"I'm so glad you all found him," Sigyn placed her hand to her head. "I'm so glad you found me," she admitted and started to laugh. "I thank you," she made a gesture to bow.

"Not one more Aesir life should be lost," Randi reported.

"You said that the Queen's forces saved you, you mean there are more soldiers in the city?" asked Sigyn.

"Yes," stated Mistress Eir's assistant. "Apparently, there is a whole army of the soldiers from the Southern Palace and also militia.
"That's wonderful news!" exclaimed Sigyn. She became so excited that she started to cough. "Do you have any water?' she asked weakly. Some of the Aether ash was starting to spread and move beyond the borders for the Imperial City.

The healers looked at each other. Their supplies were so very, very limited. "Perhaps, I can find a canteen..." muttered Randi. She started to walk away.

"No, please!" Sigyn called out. "Don't trouble yourself," she began once again. Her voice was dry and her throat ached, but she looked around and she saw the throngs of people. Innocent Asgardians crippled by the devastation that had been unleashed upon their fair city. Limbs that had become infected with the Aether had to be hacked off, lungs had been damaged, the effects of the nasty gem taking hold and turning lungs toxic. There were several healers that were feverishly running back and forth and trying to assemble makeshift supplied to make breathing apparatuses. Eyes had been blinded, ears had been deafened, children had been burned and scarred and had broken bones. She could still feel the tight grip that the Dark-Elf had around her throat, his hand threatening to crush her wind pipe, but in the end, it seemed to be nothing compared to what these others all around her, "Other's need it more than I," Sigyn's hazel eyes darted downward. "Save it for them!" the blonde-haired maiden pointed her had in the direction of the poor and the elderly and the infirmed all around her.

"I'm sure, we can find you some clean water somewhere, my lady," explained the senior healer.

"Mistress Eir may have some," stated Krysteenah, "Come she'll want to see you. It will do her heart good to know that you are well," Khrysteenah started to help Lady Sigyn to her feet. Sigyn's ankles were sprained, but she tried not to show her pain as she hobbled behind the healer. They treaded lightly across the small encampment where bodies of the wounded were spread out like herring at a fish market. The whole space was full of moans and groans and howls of people in anguish. Healers darted left and right, completely overwhelmed but resolute in their efforts to control the pain of the crowd.

"So many have suffered," Lady Sigyn mumbled as she limped along. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying.

"All this at the hands of Loki," Lady Khrysteenah seethed. "He was our prince! A son of Odin!" she spat. "How could he do this to us?' she ranted. "What he did on Midgard was terrible, but now this!" she spread her arms wide pointing to the hundreds that they had spread out across the barren field outside the city gate. There were hundreds more who they hadn't been able to save or help. Hundreds who were buried alive in rubble or had been skewered by Aether shards. And Hundreds, thousands, millions more would die if this day saw itself to fruitions.

"I... know...I know," Sigyn muttered as she tried to rub Lady Khrysteenah's back.

"I was there...I was there, you know," she turned around her deep-set brown eyes a blaze and full of tears. She wiped at them furiously. "I was in the extraction chamber..." she pointed at herself. "I saw him change... I saw his skin turn blue as ice," she whispered it like it was a secret. "And some said, that it was just the extraction, just a bad reaction...but I know what I saw," she warned the queen's handmaiden. "I saw him turn into Frost Giant!" the words flung from her lips like it was the dirtiest word she could think of. "That's what he is! That's exactly what he is! He's just like them,' she continued to grumbled.

Sigyn kept her eyes downcast, looking at the ground looking at all the people that Loki had hurt, all the lives he had the destroyed, the families he'd ruined. For what? For who? Why? She'd failed to stop him. She felt just a responsible for all the agony that her people were experiencing. She had the chance to stop Loki and she didn't. She should have killed him. She should have plunged the dagger into his heart when she had the chance. Sigyn told herself as she water started to spill from golden eyes, but then she thought...she thought of the old man, she thought of the miraculous fact that Lady Jane and the mages and scholars of Asgard had been able to put together all those reactors and stabilizers in just a manner of hours or the fact that now the Queen's forces were arriving from Kytheria...all these things gave her hope. Hope that maybe deep down inside Loki still had a heart and that maybe he was helping them... but that that was just stupid. She inwardly chided herself for her foolishness. She was just foolish, dreamer and that's all she had ever been and it always backfired on her. It always ruined her. When was she going to learn? "I know...he's a monster," she said quietly as tears tumbled down her dirty cheeks.

They arrived to where Mistress Eir had stationed herself. She had taken a few tattered robes and blankets and had managed to make a tent. She had spread her own cape out on the grass to use as a mat to attend to patients. She could only see one patient at a time. "Mistress Healer!" Lady Khrysteenah called from outside the tent.

"Khrysteenah, come," the elderly woman beckoned. Her pale hand waving to usher the woman in. It wasn't exactly a stepping in, it was just crawling under the flaps and folds of the shredded blankets. Mistress Eir moved her hands in fluid motions over the body of the person who she was working on. She sang as she smoothed a cream over the body. "Did you get the names of all the people that we have with us?" she asked her concentration never broke from caring for her patient.

"Yes, my lady," Khrysteenah stated as she bowed on her knees next to Mistress Eir and her patient. She promptly presented the scroll. "Everyone's name, their injury...a list of our supplies..." she went on. Mistress Eir paused for a moment. She reached out her hand and took the scroll. She unrolled it and noted the many names on the list. Too many. Far too many. Mistress Eir started to note that some of the names had been crossed out. Her gray brows raised and her shaky finger pointy to one name that had a line drawn through it. "Some have already been lost to us, my lady," Khrysteenah regretted to inform her. Mistress Eir's eyes were wide for but a moment. There were more names crossed out than she had imagined there would be. It made her stomach turn to think that she as the master healer of Odin's court could not save more lives. She shook her head. She looked down at the patient she was tending now, Algrim. She could only hope that he would pull through. He was such a dear friend even if they were meant to perish, she wanted him to wake. She wanted to see his eyes once more. She wanted to tell him how she loved him. "I do have some good news, though," The woman said as she tried to muster a smile.

Mistress Eir let out a breath. Her eyes were still closed. She hummed over the ointment that she was smearing all over Algrim's thin chest. She smoothed it and blew on it and caused it to heat up. "Good news would be welcomed at a time such as this?" she smiled slightly.

"Mistress Eir!" a soprano voice spoke up.

The master healer recognized the voice. Her eyes opened for the first time. She swung her head only to find herself facing a grimy albeit gorgeous face. "Lady Sigyn!" she blinked. She immediately rose and went to greet the young lady-in-waiting. Sigyn started to bow to the older woman but the healer quickly pulled her into an embrace. "Thank the Norns you are alright dear girl!" she expressed as she kissed her dirty cheeks.

"I'm glad to see that you and the injured made it out as well," Sigyn replied giving her a squeeze. "I...I... I was so worried," she said with tears pushing from her eyes. "I...I... I saw...I saw what the Dark-Elves did," she explained. "They came in there... and they raided the whole catacomb...they...they came for an attack," she explained. "They slaughtered and murdered so many warriors..." she closed her eyes and tried to block out the fresh memories of Valkyries and Einherjar and palace guards just being gutted left and right and some people just being sucked up and evaporated right before her eyes. It was so hard to watch to see people, young people old people, simple, good people just gone.

"We factored in some resistance..." Mistress Eir stated as she rubbed the young Aesir maiden's back.

"I know, I know," Sigyn bobbed her head. "But then they...they just torched the place. They have no honor," she expressed through shiny eyes. "I...I... I saw them..." she started, but then her eyes grew wide as they stumbled upon a familiar face. "Prime Minister Algrim!" the daughter of Admiral Arn exclaimed. She practically ran over to him. "Oh, by the Norns!" she looked at his face. It scarred up and charred up. His breathing was terribly labored. There were many terrible burns on his arms and legs. But he was alive. "I... I saw them slap him," she whispered her hands hovering over his body. "Then, the Dark-Elf Soldier he set fire to whole atrium and he just walked out... He knew... he knew Algrim was still alive and...and I just...I just couldn't believe that he would leave a man to be burned alive," she shook her head.

The elderly healer shook her head in response. "He is alive," she pointed out. She went back to her patient. She sat back down next to him and her and Khrysteenah continued to work their ministrations. They moved oozy glowing liquids all over his body. Finally, his breathing seemed to ease. Once his lungs seemed to be cleared the two healers began working on his head. He had nasty gashes and Healer Eir could sense that there were some fractures in his skull. "He needs a healing crystal," Mistress Eir explained to her assistant.

Khrysteenah hurried looking around Mistress Eir makeshift healing hut. In the small amount of time they had they hadn't had time to unpack properly, but she looked in a few of the chest hoping to find a healing crystal. She found only one tiny healing crystal most of the energy inside the gem was almost completely used up. Still she started to rush back toward Mistress Eir with the small stone. She was rushing and the tent was dark and crowded and messy and he tripped over a vessel or a rock. The crystal flew from her hand and smashed on the ground. "Oh no, oh no! "she muttered miserably. "I am so sorry my lady, I dropped it...I dropped it!" she expressed her face distraught. As she looked down at the tiny fragments of crystal that were scattered on the ground.

"No, no," Mistress Eir warned the other woman. "Just gather the crystal fragments," she instructed. Immediately, Lady Khrysteenah started trying to gather the pieces off of the ground. Lady Sigyn sprang up to help her. As she did so she winced and started to limp a bit. She fell to her knees by Khrysteenah's side and likewise started trying to scoop up the tiny pieces of brilliant stone. Together, the pair carried the crystal dust back to the master healer. Mistress Eir allowed each woman to drop the broken bits into her sturdy, but wrinkled hands. In the hands of the healer the bits of crystal started to glow within her palm. Both Krysteenah and Sigyn looked on the feat with wide eyes. She pressed her palm to the back of Prime Minister Algrim's head and lifted it slightly. The crystal fragments taking their effect. Prime Minister Algrim's eyes started to flicker open for the first time. "Prime Minister Algrim?" Mistress Eir spoke gently as she could as she watched his pointed ears start to twitch and his eyes open. Her beautiful face swam in and out of focus. He was disoriented. His voice croaked and cracked as he tried to find words.

"I'll get some water and tend to your legs Lady Sigyn," Khrysteenah stated as she quickly rose to her feet and beckoned for Sigyn to follow behind her. She found a wineskin filled with only a little water, but gave it to Mistress Eir before she ushered Sigyn a few feet away to start to try to work on her busted ankles.

"Lady Khrysteenah, shouldn't you be helping Mistress Eir?" Sigyn asked as she followed the other healer's instruction and plopped herself down on a ripped cloak. "Prime Minister Algrim, he needs your help," she insisted as she grimaced from her own pain.

"He is in capable hands with Mistress Eir," she insisted with a smile. "Now, that he is awake, I'm sure she can handle it," she chuckled as she looked at the two in the corner of the makeshift tent. She watched as Mistress Eir grabbed his trembling hand. "Your ankles need tending to," she expressed as she looked down at how beneath Sigyn's shredded silk gown. The poor woman's ankles looked like big apples. With that she sat down next to Lady Sigyn and began working on her ankles. They were puffy and tender. Sigyn winced as she felt the hands working on her. Lady Khrysteenah pressed her hands deeply into the ankles, her hands felt like ice as she closed her eyes and concentrated and slowly the swelling was alleviated. "Try rotating your ankle," the healer instructed. Sigyn did so, she swiveled her ankle up down and side to side and was amazed to find that she had no pain.

"Oh, my goodness I'm healed!" Sigyn exclaimed. "I'm good as new!" she proclaimed.

Khrysteenah nodded humbly. "Well let's not get too carried away Lady Sigyn, the injury was pretty mild, "I'm sure a Midgardian healer could have treated that much," she shrugged. "I only wish I could do more for the others. They are dying!" she pointed out.

"You've done all you could Lady Khrysteenah. You've saved so many lives, you've kept these people alive, you go them out the city," she pointed out as she stood to her feet. "It's I who haven't done enough," she confessed.

"Lady Sigyn, what are you saying?" Khrysteenah responded.

"I have to go," the blonde-haired woman stated as she spun around and faced the healer with bright gold eyes,

"Go? Go where?" she asked.

"I've got to get back to the city. I've got to get to the town square,"

"Get to the town square!" Khrysteenah did a double take. "Wh-wh-what are you talking about? You were just rescued from the smoldering city!"

"I know, I know," Sigyn nodded. "And I'm grateful! I am so very grateful" Sigyn grabbed her by the shoulders. "You all have saved me! You've helped me! You've healed me," she expressed as she pointed to her neck and her head and ankles. She even started to jog in place.

"Yes, exactly, all that wasn't done for you to go und plunge yourself into danger again," Lady Khrysteenah took hold of her by the wrist. "Randi and that poor young apprentice, nearly killed themselves rescuing you," she protested.'

"I know... I know," the dirty handmaiden continued to mutter, but she was still walking, walking out from under the tent flaps. "But this is about our survival! All of our survival!" she muttered. "And we need every able-bodied person to fight for us now," she said. They were outside of the shanty tent and stepped back out into the fledging light of day. "Even if I have to fall if it means that Asgard and the Nine Realms can go on then it's worth it." Lady Sigyn explained.

Lady Khrysteenah shook her head. Sigyn's words were brave and bold, but it didn't make any sense to the healer. "Lady Sigyn," she started. She was about to tell the woman that it was suicide her going out there and that she was just one woman and she could do more good sticking around the crude encampment they had come up with by helping find clean water and assisting the healers change bandages. Her mouth was starting to open, she was starting to form the words on her lips, but just then in the distance she saw something. She saw something coming past the mountains, something that was moving very fast. The sky was still mostly dark and as the smog from the Aether began to spread over them even outside the city it was becoming harder and harder to see, but still in the dismal light she managed to see the gold and meshed together with the most exquisite of teal. The depiction of the sword and a might peacock. "Look! Look!" she shouted to the noblewoman as she pointed in the distance.

"The Queen's Standard!" Sigyn shouted with joy. "The Queen's Banner!" she proclaimed once more as she started jumping up and down!

"The Queen's Banner? The Queen's Banner!" Mistress Eir's right-hand also began to exclaimed. "Oh, my goodness! Oh, my gracious!" she did several double takes before rushing back in under the healing tent that was made of tattered burlap and ripped fabric. "Mistress Eir! Mistress Eir!" she called breathlessly. "The queen is coming!" she announced.

The gray-haired healer shot up. "Are you sure? It could be Loki!" she pointed out as she rushed outside the tent.

"I don't think so my lady," Khrysteenah shook her head with a bright smile on her face. "They are coming from the mountains." she showed the master healer.

"It's the queen! It's the queen!" Sigyn proclaimed. "I'd know her banner anywhere," the young lady-in-waiting stated. All of a sudden, they heard trumpet! The trumpets were calling. No doubt the Queen's forces had seen the small settlement right outside the Imperial City. They knew they must have been Asgardians.

The sound of the buglers coming from the queen's riders was truly music to the ears to the sound of the poor wounded citizens of Asgard. Those who were strong enough perked up and sat up. They recognized the proud and beautiful call of the queen's army. The healers who were scattered around stood up and started shouting shouts of joy and triumph.

Prime Minister Algrim crawled out from under the curtains of the tent. He was dragging himself across the dirt. "Prime Minister!" Mistress Eir called as she watched him try to get to his feet. She ran to his side and helped him up. "You should be lying down. You have to lay down," she announced to him. She took him by the hand and wrapped his skinny little arms around her slender shoulders.

"Had...had...had" he panted. "Had to see for myself," he said as he looked at her. "I wanted to the Queen with my own eyes.

Mistress Eir looked at the Prime Minister with kindness in her eyes. She reached her hand out a stroked his smooth face. "Here she comes," she said as the queen upon a beautiful white steed rode into their midst with some of Asgard's finest warriors accompanying her.

The queen made her way right to Prime Minister Algrim, Mistress Eir, Lady Khrysteenah, Lady Sigyn. "Your Majesty!" they all greeted in unison as they gave long sweeping bows to the royal woman.

Queen Frigga immediately leaped from the back on her noble white horse and rushed toward her friends. "Prime Minister!" she cried as she threw her arms around him. He was skinny as a rail and his smelled like smoke and soot, he looked like ghost with his pale skin, but she was so happy to see him. "Oh, my friend! My friend!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy to see you alive."

He started to cough a little. "Just barely," he confessed in an exasperated fashion. His eyes looked pitiful and tired. "But my survival is truly the work of Mistress Eir and her masterful healers," he assured the wife of Odin.

It was then that Queen Frigga cast her cerulean blue eyes on the other member of her court. "Eir," the said the woman with a sigh of relief. She placed her hand upon her breastplate. "After everything that you have done for the people of Asgard, words cannot truly express..."

Mistress Eir held up her wrinkled hands. "Please my queen I cannot take any accolades. I have lost more Aesir souls than I like on my watch," she confessed and her head bowed and she muttered a prayer of mournfulness.

"No. No. No." Queen Frigga began in a forceful regal tone that only she could house at a time of despair such as this. "Do you know how many lives you have saved this day? Do not cry, my friend," she commanded the woman as she reached up her hands to wipe away the Master Healer's tears.

Mistress Eir bobbed her head. A watery smile slipped across her lips, "How fairs the king?" she asked in a cautious whisper for only her and Queen Frigga and Lord Algrim's ears to hear.

Algrim's eyes were wide. His pointed ears began to twitch furiously, "Doth my king live, your Majesty?" he asked. His breath hitched and his eyes watered.

Queen Frigga slowly pulled her hands from around Mistress Eir's thin shoulders. She made hear ocean colored eyes face Algrim. His face was as distraught as a child. His flesh may have revealed that he was a Light Elf, but his blood was Aesir through and through. He had been faithful and loyal to Asgard from the moment he arrived. He had served their realm for more than 2 millennia and he loved her husband truer than any brother, Frigga straightened herself. She tried to keep herself composed. She swallowed back the nausea that was forming in the pit of her stomach from the thought. "The king was deep within the Oversleep when he went into cardiac arrest," those were the only words she could manage. She couldn't say anymore. She didn't want to say anymore. It would do no one any good to think that the king was dead.

"Norns save the king!" Mistress Eir called.

"Merciful Yggdrasil," Lord Algrim muttered.

"I should be there! I should be there with King Odin," Mistress Eir confessed bitterly.

"My physician is with him. He is doing all her can do... there is no more that can be done," she tried to assure the Master Healer. Mistress Eir tried to take some solace in the queen's words. She knew Healer Onrac very well. She had trained him herself. He was a gifted medicine man one of the finest to ever walk through the Halls of Healing. It was for that reason that she recommended him as Queen Frigga's lead healer, but still she couldn't absolve her guilt. King Odin was fighting for his life and she wasn't there.

"There's something...I can do" she pointed to herself. "There is always something that I can do," Eir expressed. She shook her head bitterly. "If I was there...I... I wouldn't let the king slip away on my watch," she swore.

"There is no more that anyone can do," the Queen of Asgard replied. "Odin's sickness is more than just physical..." she said with a swallow. And they all knew that it was true between them. If Asgard fell then the king's life was as good as forfeited. "His fate is in the hands of the Norns now," she expressed.

Off to the side Queen Frigga could hear the voices of Heimdal and Frandal. "Lady Sigyn, you look beautiful as ever!" Frandal called out as he greeted her. He ran up to her and embraced her like a sister. He managed to get a laugh out of the young woman.

Sigyn blushed beneath the dirty smudges on her cheeks. "You're shameless, Sir Frandal, shameless," she responded back with a giggle as she let him kiss her hand. "But I'll accept it on account as it might be the last compliment that I hear," her tone grew graver.

"Tis not true Lady Sigyn," the queen said as she walked toward her. Queen Frigga looked absolutely lovely in her armor made of sparkling silver. She looked like an angel with her white cape billowing behind her as she made her way toward her be. Sigyn was nearly breathless as she looked at her beloved monarch. Tears filled her eyes and she immediately dipped into a low curtsy. Her knees touched the floor. She kept her eyes downcast. Until she felt the queen's gentle hands nudge her chin upward.

"Your Majesty!" Sigyn exclaimed through her tears. A brilliant, elated grin flashed across her dirty face. Instantly, Queen Frigga snatched her to her feet and pulled her into a tight embrace. She wrapped her in her arms. She held her close, crashing her against her breastplate. Joyful sobs escaped both their lips as they stumbled back toward the ground. As they fell back on the ground they broke into heaps of fitful laughter.

The queen grabbed her lady-in-waiting by the face and stroked it lovingly. Tears shined in her beautiful blue eyes. She started to smother the young woman with kisses all across her smudged and bruised face. "Oh Sigyn! Oh! Sigyn!" she cried with joy. "Oh, my dear! I am so glad to see you again! I'm so glad to see you alive and well. "I thought I'd never see you again, child," she expressed as she still held on to her cheeks. "I had feared...I had feared the worst," the royal woman went on. "Oh, my dear, why did you not come? Why did you not come with the courtiers to Kytheria?" she asked.

"Oh, Your Majesty," the blonde-haired maiden began. Tears continued to wash the dirt and grime off of her cheeks. "I wanted to...I wanted to be with you," she insisted. "Please believe me," she begged. "I wanted to so badly, but...but Theoic...Theoic," she tried to explain.

"It doesn't matter," the queen of Asgard shook her head. "You are hear now. I'm so glad you're alive," she responded once more with a smile spreading across her face.

"But I failed you, milady," she replied. "I failed...I thought...I thought I could stop this great calamity. I thought that I could save Prince Thor," she explained as she looked down. "I thought I could stop...Loki..." She started to blubber even harder this time her tears were not of joy though. "But I couldn't! I couldn't! I could! I couldn't do anything," she confessed.

"Lady Sigyn wrong Your Majesty," stated Prime Minister Algrim. "She belies herself," he admitted as he had Mistress Eir help him walk over toward the pair on unsteady feet.

"She doth indeed, my queen," Heimdal's deep voice interjected into the conversation.

"No, no" she shook her head.

"It was Lady Sigyn who went back to rescue many of the soldiers who are riding in your company now," the great gatekeeper explained.

"He is right...she rescued even I. She led us through the palace catacombs and into the sanctum," Prime Minister Algrim reported.

"She went back to try to rescue your son, my queen," the gatekeeper explained.

"Is all this true, Sigyn?" The queen questioned as she marveled at her handmaiden.

"I've done nothing great," Sigyn stated as she shook her head. "I've done what any loyal citizen would do," her lips started to tremble. "And I have failed in my efforts as well...I wasn't able to get Prince Thor out of the dungeon," she admitted as she finally looked up at the queen with tears in her eyes. In her heart she thought of the fact that she wasn't able to stop Loki. She'd given him the letter, but it didn't change his mind. That piece of parchment hadn't stopped his evil machinations or intents. And she had the opportunity to kill him and she hadn't. If everything was lost on this day it would be her fault.

"Sigyn," Queen Frigga held her face firmly in her hands "You have done everything for me imaginable. I can't thank you enough!" she exclaimed.

"But Your Majesty," Sigyn wagged her head. Her voice hitching.

"if this day is won and songs are sung of this day then your name will be in the chorus!"

"Ahh, I can just hear it now," Frandal began wistfully. "It'll be a pretty little ditty, but not as pretty as you, milady," He gave a charming grin.

"Ah, yes but the most important thing is making sure that we are still here. Winning this day for Asgard and for all peoples," the gilded warrior expressed proudly.

"He's right," the queen stated as she reached out her hand and allowed from Frandal to help her to her feet. "We must keep moving," she turned to face the guardian and the Einherjar general. "Although, I do wish to greet the people," Queen Frigga expressed with longing. She looked out over the encampment. She couldn't believe how many wounded there were. There were so many as far as her eyes could see. Men, women and children all lying out on the ground, bloody and gagging and shivering and coughing, head bleeding, limbs missing or charred. Some were struggling for every breath that they took with primitive equipment that was trying to force air into their lungs. She couldn't bear looking at so many of her people in so much duress. They were lying on grass without coverings, without cots, without shoes on their feet and clothes on their backs, they didn't have blankets or fresh water or food. Their situation was desperate. So many of them may not survive. She was their queen. Her first priority was taking care of the basic needs of her people. She watched as the healers rushed about trying to do everything within their power to keep the people alive. She wasn't an expert healer by trade, but she knew enough about healing to help the team. Even if she just cleansed the water or patted the brows of the people.

"Queen Frigga, I must advise against that. We don't have much time. The sun will rise any minute," Frandal pointed out. Frigga's sapphire eyes followed Frandal's finger. She gazed off toward the horizon where she saw the faint rays of sun trying to pierce their way through the darkness.

"He's right, Your Majesty...there isn't much time left." Heimdal announced.

"I know," Queen Frigga responded.

"Your Majesty!" Lord Algrim practically squealed. He nearly fell over as he almost flung himself from Mistress Eir's hands. She held on to him and kept him upright. She rubbed his back and tried to send healing pulses into him. "You can't be serious!" he gasped his eyes bugging out of his head, his rears standing on edge. "You can't possibly be thinking of going into the city! Queen Frigga you can't! You can't! We've lost the king," he shook his head. "And Prince Thor's life hangs in the balance now," he went on. "You are our sole monarch; we can't lose you too. WE need you!" he pleaded with her.

"Please, highness don't go!" Sigyn pleaded with trembling liquid gold eyes.

"I have to go," the queen confessed.

"No, you don't!" the Prime Minister of Asgard protested. "I have been your advisor and confidant for all these years," he began as he started coughing. "Won't you heed me now?"

"Oh Algrim, I trust you very much," she stated and reached on and took the elfin Prime Minister by the hand. "You have been one of my most trusted friends," she told him. "And you may be the wisest man I know," she winked. His pale cheeks started to flush. "And I may be foolish for what I do, but I cannot listen to your wisdom, not this time...my friend" she patted him on the hand.

He shook his head. His thin, gray locks slapping him in the face, "But why?" he implored her.

"I am Asgard's queen, my place is to fight for her, for her future."

"You are Asgard's future, Majesty," Mistress Eir spoke up.

"I should be the first partaker in trying to save my son's life. I won't sit by the sidelines while my baby's life is at risk," she stated sternly. "And if Loki is to commit these terrible abominations and terrible atrocities then I want to see it with my own eyes. I won't hide from that pain."

"But Queen Frigga, if the worst should happen Asgard will have no leadership," Prime Minister Algrim protested.

"Not so Algrim," Queen Frigga shook her head. "No matter what happens Asgard will be a leader...you," she announced before all.

"Your Majesty," Algrim said. He gasped so much that he started to cough.

The Queen held up a royal hand. "You are Asgard's Prime Minister, the king's trusted counsel and you have been acting as Asgard's regent in this time..." she began.

"Yes, my queen of course, but only over the people of the Imperial City not over the entire realm," he said with panic. Algrim wanted to say more. He wanted to tell the queen that this was lunacy. That there was no reason for her to put her life in so much danger. That Asgard needed her. The people of Asgard were extremely loyal to the royal family of Asgard. If all the members of the royal family were gone then the people would lose heart. They'd have nothing left to fight for. He wanted to tell the wife of Odin to let him go and fight for her, though, he had never been much of a fighter. There was much he wanted to say, but as he saw the queen's stern and firm gaze, he realized there was no point. He had known Queen Frigga for far too many centuries. She was a woman of grace, wisdom and courage and she was also stubborn as a bull. If the queen gave and order she expected it to be followed. "I accept your commission Your Majesty," the Light Elf finally agreed. He found the strength to pull from Mistress Eir who he had been leaning on. He stood on his own two feet for but a moment and then gave a long sweeping bow. He went to one knee and graciously kissed the exposed fingers. "But I pray that I never have to take up such a commission. Long live Your Majesty," he swore. Queen Frigga felt his gentle tears on her skin.

"Queen Frigga!" Sigyn came running up behind her and Heimdal and Frandal who were helping the queen back on to her chariot. "Your Majesty, I'm coming with you!" she called. "That is, I mean if it pleases, my lady," she caught herself and dipped into a curtsy.

"Lady Sigyn," the queen looked on her beloved handmaiden with tenderness in her deep blue eyes "It's too dangerous, child no," she shook her head.

"Please, please, my lady!" Sigyn started to beg. "I feel so ashamed for my failures," she admitted biting her bruised lips.

"You have not failed, Sigyn..."

"As your lady-in-waiting it is my sworn duty to be by your side when you need my service. Besides, I know that now in this are darkest hour we can use every hand we can get," she reminded the royal woman as she raised a triumphant fist in the air. Queen Frigga smiled kindly at the young woman, but she started to shake her head. "Please, Your Majesty," Sigyn's voice was more desperate now. Her hand reaching out for the queen's. "I too want to be there to see what Loki has become," She looked into the queen's face with her own golden eyes shimmering. Queen Frigga let out a pent-up sigh. Sigyn was so dear to her. She had feared the worst for young Sigyn. Seeing her alive had warmed the queen's heard and given her a burst of confidence and renewed strength to continue to fight for Asgard. She didn't want the girl to be lost. But as she looked into her eyes, she knew that she too loved her son, Loki and that she was probably the only person who grieved what Loki was doing as much as she and she knew that she would need the closure of Loki's fate as well.

"Very well, Lady Sigyn," the wife of King Odin consented, reluctantly. A smile bright as day spread across young Sigyn's face as she leaped on the back of Queen Frigga's golden war chariot. She placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder, "I'm proud to ride with you at my side, Lady Sigyn," the queen stated.

"We need to go," Heimdal announced as he and the other soldiers readied themselves.

"FOT ASGARD!" Frandal shouted as he raised his sword in the air. The troops behind him did the same and let out a mighty and rousing huzzah. Some of the wounded as well as the healers started to cheer as well.

"LONG LIVE QUEEN FRIGGA! LONG LIVE PRINCE THOR! LONG LIVE ASGARD!" the crowd of weak Aesir managed to roar. With the enthusiastic cries of the battle worn people echoing behind them the Einherjar, the Queen of Asgard and Lady Sigyn made their way into the city that was set ablaze and cloaked in darkness to make their final stand to save their prince, their people and all the people of the Nine Realms.

---

The Dark-Elves who had raided the underground sanctum dragged and carted the Aesir to the town square like animals. They chained as many as they could and the others the drove with taser spikes and at the point of the sword and with blasters pointed at the back of their heads. They shoved them roughly into the town square. Now, the town square was a large assembling area that had been used for generations. It was a place where many proclamations and announcements had been made. It was always a place of excitement and energy within the city. How many times had the people of the Imperial City come out in droves to hear a royal announcement? The Birth of Odin had been announced there, the marriage announced of King Odin and Queen Frigga, the birth of Prince Thor, a marriage that was once intended for the young blonde prince and even his coronation. These were all high times of the Aesir people. Many times, people from outside the Imperial City would press their way to be a part of the crowds in the town square for holidays like New Year, Winter Solstice and Harvest. Normally, Asgard would be busily preparing for Harvest during this time of year. Harvest in the square was always an exciting time. The queen and her ladies in waiting would toss bread and cheese and fruit from the palace windows. It was called the Feast of Kings. The people's hearts were no longer filled with expectancy, but rather dread.

Thousands of Asgardians were now there, some in chains, some driven to their knees. Some had practically had to crawl into to the square with Dark-Elves cracking whips against their backs. Some bloodied and battered and bruised. They were a huddled mass of confusion and cries and screams. Children were wailing, women were sobbing, Men were desperately protesting, pushing back against their captors only to be threatened by being struck in the head with gauntlets or having the dreadful vortex creating guns stuck int their faces. The Dark-Elves surrounded the entire square. They had a guard posted around all the possible exits blocking it off like a great fence.

Volstagg and Sif were roughly shoved into the crowd. "All the exits are being guarded Sif," He pointed out. "Even if somehow we are able to save Prince Thor," He gulped as he surveyed the situation. It was seeming unlikely that their rescue attempt would play out well. More soldiers than they had anticipated had been killed. Skilled Valkyrie and Einherjar warriors had been slaughtered in the catacombs and even though all the people who had surrendered themselves had done so knowing that they would be taken to the town square to fight, the truth of the matter was many of the people who were capture were children and elderly. The Dark-Elves would have been suspicious had they not captured a mixed looking crowd, but it did put them at a disadvantage. "We don't have an escape plan," he expressed to her.

"Just stick to the plan we have in place, Volstagg," She whispered as she wrapped her round her more tightly and went into the throng, "It'll work itself out, "she stated. "it has to," she stated as she shook her head. All the signs around her pointed to how hopeless the situation was. The capture was supposed to be fake, a façade, but it wasn't the Dark-Elves had managed to still overwhelm them even though they knew they were coming. Their capture, though planned, was very much real. "We can't let Prince Thor die!" she reminded him. "We can't let Asgard fall and Let Ragnarök come!" she proclaimed.

"Sif," the rotund warrior began.

"Not without a fight, Volstagg! Not without a fight," the warrior woman declared. Her hands were clapped in irons, but Lady Sigyn was a skilled shieldmaiden and she could quite literally fight with both hands tied behind her back.

"I'll fight til my last breath for Thor, for Asgard, Sif, you know that, but I'm just saying." the red-beard Einherjar general went on.

"The most important thing is rescuing Thor," she reminded him. "And getting ourselves in position." she explained. "The other Einherjar know where their supposed to be posted. As long as everyone is in position, we still have a chance." Sif tried to smile, to show courage. But as she looked at their situation there was little to smile about. Too many Asgardian civilians were being put in harm's way. Their Prince, her best friend and the man she loved his life was hanging in the balance. The city was crawling, teaming with Dark-Elves and even though the people of ASgard outnumbered the army of Svartalfheim, while the Aether ash swirled around the city, blocking the sun and weakening their systems the Dark-Elves had the advantage, "We've got to make our way to the front, "Sif told him. "We've got to be the closest to the scaffold," she tossed her head in the direction of the elevated pulpit which was set and staged for the execution.

Inside the Imperial Palace's dungeon Malekith's guards lined the walls. Their bloodless faces held the most vicious sneers on them. Their black pit eyes were full of venom as they waited at attention for the word from their liege. All their heads swiveled in well-timed precision toward Lord Malekith as he arrived at the top of the dark and neglected spiraling staircase of the dungeon. The warlord marched down the steps with proud stomping strides. He was wearing his traditional battle armor that was grayish-white like old bones with the insignia of a star-like shape on to represent the Aether. One side of the star was painted black and the other side was left white to show the Aether's true power to alter matter. One of his men had polished the coat of arms which he wore and his hand placed glistening silver arm guards on his limbs and even his black gauntlet shined.

As Lord Malekith descended the steps the train of his cloak fluttered all around him. Malekith's normal cloak was ratty looking black garb made of rough leather hide, but the cloak that he had wrapped around him for the Convergence had been stolen straight for King Odin's wardrobe. The Dark-Elf general festooned himself in one of Odin's dazzling ceremonial robes. The robe was made of the finest velvet material. It was dyed a brilliant and blinding shade of gold made to emulate the glory of the light. It was trimmed it stunning, stark white fur of the bear.

When Malekith arrived at the bottom of the steps his men immediately fell to their knees. One of his leading guards raised his head, but didn't rise to his feet as he stated, "My lord, you look every inch the king," he slapped a fist onto his breast.

Malekith raised his pointed nose into the air. "I am the king!" he proclaimed to his people in their language. "And now the people of Asgard will know it! They will kneel before me and all the other people of the Nine Realms shall follow suit," he went on rubbing his hands together. "These Realms will be blackened once again and then we shall be on top," he told them. "The spoils of this world and all worlds will be ours for the taking just like this silly cloak!" Malekith said as he grabbed the train in his hands and showed it to the soldiers and they all broke out into fiendish cackles.

"It is nearly dawn Lord Malekith," one of his warriors reported. The soldier had an old creepy voice.

Malekith peered through the faint opening at the end of the tunnel that was still about two miles out from the dungeon. Almost all of the Imperial City was dark with the Aether Ash, but still he could see the faint light doing its best to break through. He hissed as he saw the miniscule rays of sun. Soon no sunlight would dare to rear its heinous golden rays in his direction. Once the Convergence took place and the Aether was able to be released in its full glory the hope that came with the dawning of a new day would be gone from their hearts. "Where is the prisoner?" Malekith demanded. His head swiveled back and forth as he looked for the Crown Prince of Asgard.

As if on cue, King Loki arrive by Malekith's side with Thor in tow. The Dark-Elves had beaten him pretty badly only an hour before, but he marched out in chains before the warlord looking not like a slave, but looking very much like every inch the prince that he was. Loki had provided Thor with his finest armor, royal robes and tunics.

"What is this? Malekith practically roared. As he looked at the grandson of Bor. His hair was matted, but somewhat clean. His face was still wounded. His eyes were still blackened and swollen, but less so. The prince could at least see out of his eyes enough to walk straight so that he wasn't stumbling into walls and into the Dark-Elf soldiers who would meet his blunders a fist to the face or a kick to the gut. His lip was also still swollen, but no longer bleeding. Thor was at least recognizable. Loki was not the best healer, but he had managed to calm Thor's breathing and repair most of the damage to his brother's punctured lungs. He'd infused Prince Thor's bones with enough energy and strength to allow him the ability to walk out on his own two feet albeit on limbs that were shaky and week as a newborn colt. His hands, feet and neck were all still tethered together through a series of ball and chains and weighing him down and causing him to be hunched over. Loki had also fitted him with the same muzzle that he had been given and it kept Thor silent besides for a few pathetic groans and whimpers. "Why isn't he dressed in the prison rags?" Malekith demanded.

The king's lips curled into a devilish smile. "Perhaps your people take pleasure in conquering slaves, Malekith, but the Aesir do not," Loki explained. "Seeing that Prince Thor can be dominated," Loki began as he yanked on the chain around Thor's neck and caused him to double over a bit and let out a pained grunt. "In some semblance of a state that they knew," he said dismissively waving his hand and slapping Thor in back of the neck with his hand causing the prince to jerk and shake slightly. "Will strike fear into their hearts!" he sneered. "It'll break their spirits so they dare not think of revolting against us," Loki added.

"It is a waste! It is for show and silly Asgardian pomp and circumstance that shall be no more!" the ruler of the Dark-Elves retorted back.

"Presentation Lord Malekith is half the meal," Loki retorted.

"I eat my meals row!" Malekith growled back.

"Charming, how civilized," Loki put his hands to his lips as he yawned. Malekith immediately drew his dagger and went to aim it at Loki's throat all the while swearing in his native tongue. Loki used his powers and with a wave of a hand knocked the blade from Malekith's hands. "Remember, Lord Malekith," He began with a tisk-tisk tone as he watched the general scramble to retrieve his dagger from the dirty cracks in the dungeon floor. "I am King of Asgard," he proclaimed. "Not you," He reminded him. "If you have a problem with that, I'm sure Thanos would be happy to discuss it with you," Loki said as he flashed a smile and rolled his tongue of his lips. Malekith's colorless eyes immediately darted downward as he let out a feral rumble from low within his throat. "No?" Loki questioned as he raised an inky brow. "Then I suggest you let me execute the prince in my fashion, my manner, without question," He stated as he brandished his own weapon and pulled it out on the bloodless elf and pointed it right under his chin. "Get the point?" Loki laughed.

Malekith snatched his chin away from the point of Loki's knife. "Just see to it that you kill him, my king, I'd hate for Thanos to be disappointed," he said as he turned on his heels. He proceeded to give commands to his soldiers. He told them to get ready and in formation. The soldiers rose from their knees and filed into lines surrounding himself, Loki and Prince Thor. Loki took the lead and king and Malekith grabbed Prince Thor's chains and lead him like a dog through the tunnel.

Finally, they came to the end of the dungeon tunnel. The listened to the roaring crowd. It was filled with screams and sobs and calls and echoes, cries that begged for mercies, prayers beseeching the Fates to intervene and to save them from this nightmare. Lord Malekith walked up closer to the gate. He peered out into the crowd. He saw the sea of Asgardians before him they already looked like the living dead. They were just barely clinging on to life, they were clinging to hope. Hope that he'd extinguish, just like he'd extinguish light from this poisoned universe. Then it would be returned to its blissful state of chaos and violence that it was meant to be in. Malekith breathed in. He got the faint ting from the stench of the crowd in his nostrils. Sweat and bile and blood mingled with fear. He sucked in a deep breath and allowed some of the red and black ash of the of the Aether to enter his nose, fill his lungs and course through his veins. For most creatures the Aether's effects were pure poison, but for him they were revitalizing. He turned back to face King Loki and Prince Thor whose back was bent, but even between his blackened blue eyes he found a hint of defiance glowing with in. The Dark-Elf general roughly gripped Thor's tangled blonde locks and twisted them in his gauntlet, he yanked his head down. "I love the smell of Death in the morning!" he told them both as the waved his hand signaling for his soldiers to open the gate.

A/N: HEY READERS! You made it to the end! Congratulations (give yourself a round of applause). This chapter was longer than I intended and I didn't get as far as I would like, but you know that's just how it is for me, I have to tell the story as it comes to me. I hated to leave you with a cliff hanger, but at least we are right on the presipous of the great battle scene and there is nothing between that scene now. Dear Readers, If you have been reading all this time then you deserve to leave a review. You owe it to yourself to let me know what you think. So, don't be shy ;D

Readers, we are living in such crazy times and 2020 has been rough. These major world events definitely are a sign of the times and just as in this story the people believe in the end of days (Ragnarok) The Bible points to the end of days in the event the Rapture. Jesus loves you and wants you to be saved. If you would like to learn more about this please message me. Also for those who are Americans don't forget to VOTE! No excuse! BLACK LIVES MATTER! As always GOD BLESS YOU.

-Kalimecat