A/N: Okay! This was SUPPOSED to be the last chapter BUT it got too damn long for its own good so it became the second to last chapter -_- xD. Anyways this chapter contains a lot of memory content so the memories appear in italics AND the not memory stuff appears in regular script.


Almedha…

That moment seemed to last forever between them, silence hung upon the air, their actions barely frozen in the nick of time. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder and in an instant she released the magic upon the Einherjar around them to devastating effect, a smile curving at the corner of her lips, "That's better," her crimson eyes flickering upward pinning his own and delving into their depths in a single glance, "I saw you throw away your blade a while back. I'd expect to see that of my own people, for our claws and fangs do us credit in battle but is that what Asgard is teaching their Einherjar now? To throw away their lives in a berserker's rage?"

"I don't know about that, I'm still alive in a manner of speaking," he knew his voice was hollow; he'd not yet accomplished his aim of throwing his life away but something about the sight of Almedha stayed his hand as if her appearance would change things. He had known since he'd been forced up to Asgard that as a vampire she might cross his path upon a distant battlefield. The fact that they had both crossed each other and stayed their hands regardless said much about how it had shocked them despite not being wholly unexpected to meet this way. At first Vytis hadn't been utterly sure if he believed if she was real, the thought of any small contact with his previous life seemed surreal. The vampiress certainly looked different but where the years had been unkind to him she looked better off if only slightly.

"On my mercy, Vytis, my restraint is the only reason you stand," it wasn't a threat, her voice was merely matter-of-fact, outlining the fact that if she hadn't stayed her hand he would be feet away and not standing after the blow fell. She turned her back on the distant battlefield, gazing at him over her shoulder, "Come, we will leave this battlefield behind us for now. Your allies should be grateful; your presence here buys them time

"And now you are at my mercy…," he reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back so her ear was mere inches away from his mouth, "at this distance, with your back to me, I could drop you to the ground and plunge my fist through your heart before you could ready another spell."

The thought made her pause; she conceded with a graceful tilt of her head, "Perhaps though that only removes the threat of magical attack. You may never have seen me in full strength but you well know I am beyond human and with that I possess all powers inherent to the inhumane undead of Nifleheim. You have seen what power the undead possess, what strength they have brought to bear against mortals and gods alike, you have seen armies cut down by that strength, that power. I suppose that is why you are here, to stop me from releasing that next wave, the death blow of defeat. Don't answer that now; we are not safe from being overheard. Wait," enforcing her command upon him through repetition. Although he wanted to speak he obeyed and followed her.

As he ghosted Almedha's delicate, calculated steps a shadow danced at the edge of his periphery, quickly drawing his attention. At first he'd thought by some manner of necromancy that Astridr's corpse had been animated, strung up and used like a puppet. The need to find out her fate, in the long run, suddenly hung heavy in his heart and mind as he surveyed the woman before him.

Not Astridr…definitely not her.

Where Astridr had been slight, frail, and endearing this woman was angular of face, full of endurance, and oddly unyielding in demeanor. Long waves of blond hair hung down to her waist just as Astridr's had but where Astridr's physical features had been strong and radiant this one was faint and pale. His eyes met and lingered upon the female's, there was an odd weight to them almost emotional but it wasn't emotion for him and they weren't Astridr's. When he had stared into Astridr's eyes they were the clearest blue of the spring skies, the highborn lady before him had eyes of icy blue, her eyes were cold where Astridr's had been pure warmth. After he recovered from the shock of her personal appearance he only then began to survey her as a threat, he was lucky that Almedha didn't pose him threat thus far or he had no doubt that this vampiric virago, for warrioress she was, would have easily cut him down in the time it took him to recover from reminiscing.

Almedha stepped up, coming from behind to the right of his shoulder, "Sid'ren," she ordered softly, "See that I am not disturbed by anyone or anything! Vytis, come."

The female was covered in ebony armor that looked strangely large for her lithe form, a light warrior armored by the gear of a heavy warrior. Her eyes snapped off him as she finished her own judgment of him, turning to Almedha, her head inclining at the neck in an affirmative bow of deference before she stalked off. Only then, when she was gone, did Vytis turn to follow Almedha.

Almedha stepped into an empty clearing; it would have been perfect for ambushing. There was foliage surrounding a clear area devoid of any cover. Almedha turned to him and stepped forward until she was before him, her arms reaching out to touch him, her hands resting on either side of his neck just below the jaw line. Her crimson eyes were inscrutable but he sensed something akin to grief and relief, undoubtedly emotion, somewhere he thought Almedha cared about him, maybe even loved him as much as she was able to care or love about anyone anymore. Finally he spoke, "So you are the one we are dispatched to kill. I should've known. Fate is a thing of irony, fickle in all things. I must admit considering Queen Hel's displeasure the last time I saw you with her IN you. I am a bit surprised to see, to find you the one leading this particularly important invasion."

"Vytis, you have been removed from the events of Midgard for centuries," she said in an almost exhausted voice as if taking pity upon him for not realizing the fact," I have had centuries to change and I hold the Queen's favor now," a cold smirk came to her face, "she doesn't know what is good for her….I've aged, gotten stronger and wiser, though where you are concerned little has changed. I'd much prefer to keep you out of this sacrificial crossfire if I may but I suppose you are going to try kill me, aren't you?"

"You know I won't…," it was truth; he wasn't sure where their relationship stood but somewhere in theirs it was unspoken support. They'd both been raised amongst the high born at court where affairs of the heart didn't belong and love was displaced easily by the upmost importance of titles, name, and legacy. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd been the first person to love her; the fact that what she had become hadn't repulsed him endeared him all the more to her. Of what he remembered her husband had been cruel and her children just as heartless as their sire. In his mortal life he'd been the only one to offer her any comfort or affection as a member of her family, her own blood no matter how distant the relation.

"Strange, I did not take you to be so sentimental considering how little time we were allowed together in your mortal life."

"My feelings towards you goes further than my loyalty to the gods."

Almedha's eyes flashed at the mention of the gods, "You owe them NOTHING that should never have been, your loyalty was never theirs for the taking or to command, you were meant to be mine. When I woke, finding you dead, I made a pact that day, a pact written of your spilt blood: I would not rest in my final grave until I had done everything to avenge the injustice of your untimely end. It is that hatred of the divine which brought me into the Queen's favor, brought me here to this very time and place to meet you now. My hate and loathing became everything for me; my vengeance became that of a mother robbed of her only child. Your cold, dead blood bound you to me as mine in death and now you are no longer beyond my reach, now I wish to reclaim what is mine. Why do you pause in silence, surely you do not think yourself beholden to those who raped you, denying you a fate of your own choosing?"

"I am silent because I must ask something I'd probably rather not learn," his throat was heavy; it took almost everything to swallow and speak past his fears, "Astridr?"

The pain was raw in his voice, if the news was bad he didn't even want to know but he HAD to. If Astridr was even remotely intact there is nothing he wouldn't do to try to live up to the Covenant he'd been forced to abandon. Almedha offered him immortality but he'd never embrace eternity if it didn't include Astridr, not even for Almedha. If Astridr was truly dead and gone he'd attack Almedha and he knew he'd die at her hand. She was right, she didn't need to unleash the fury of a spell to kill him as a vampire she could do it with her bare hands.

"Safe," declared Almedha, "Astridr is safe, I saw to that," there was a soft honesty to her voice, "When you were taken I knew Hel would be furious, that she'd think you'd betrayed the Covenant and take it out upon Astridr. I couldn't allow her to defile her remains; Hel wanted to drain her remains dry until her bones were naught but dust. I had hoped for the chance to reclaim you and restore her yet. My patience and sacrifice has been rewarded."

"Sacrifice?"

A tragic smile sprang to her lips, "Hel did not allow the transgression of you getting the better of her, making her out to be the fool, to go unchallenged. She took her rage out upon my hide as blood price – it was compensation for denying her what she wanted, her revenge for my defiance and your betrayal."

"I'm sorry," he truly was, remorse colored his features, he could only imagine how grotesque Hel's blood price would prove to be.

"Don't be. From what I understand you bargained yourself for my safety, in the end it was fruitless," she stated, "but a nice gesture all the same. You showed more care in that single moment of mercy than anyone has in my entire lifetime. If you wish to repay the debt, I demand it be done in blood, the only mortal aspect of any material value to a vampire. Allow me to turn you, to help you cast off the chains the gods placed upon you, and I will guide you to the fulfillment of the Covenant you swore to Astridr centuries ago."


The years had changed her much but one thing that had been left unchanged was the impulse to right wrongs committed to Vytis. Of course she didn't do it solely out of the goodness of her heart. The years amongst Hel's court in Nifleheim had broke most of her emotions, smothered others, and made her hide the rest. Nothing she did was out of the goodness of her heart, that was just…stupid, it had been the first of several hard lessons she weathered through the ages of her own eternity dragging on. She had an agenda but her agenda could only benefit Vytis. Yes, he had suffered enough, suffered plenty and she'd not add to that, she'd use him but he'd be left better off for the price he paid. It was something she told herself as she seduced him into accepting her 'kiss'.

There was a difference between receiving it now. If she had turned him years ago, upon Hel's command, he'd would have been sired and subjected to blood oath, forced into utter fealty to Hel of Nifleheim from the moment he consumed her blood. It had taken her all these long centuries to figure out how to free vampire kind of the 'curse of loyalty', the curse passed on from sire and dam to any and all of their 'kiss'. None would ever understand the lengths she had gone to make sure she purged herself of it. She'd had worked herself up into Hel's good graces, to make the Queen confidant enough to release her of all safeguards, she'd killed her own vampiric sire to purge the taint of his cursed blood, and gathered the strength of all the other major bloodlines into her own blood so she could offer a single vampire, so she could offer Vytis, absolute freedom upon turning.

For her revolution to be a success she needed a wild card, one she could trust, he would be that wild card, if she could only get him to accept. Almedha kept her expression composed; she could see the indecision written clearly upon his face. Vytis' years in Asgard had been regrettably years of sorrow not bitterness, he did not hate the Gods, not like she did but she knew she had the only thing he ever cared for. At the time Almedha had spared Astridr's body from Hel's wrath out of the simple feeling of loyalty. She'd been young and had felt like she owed it to sweet Astridr's memory to guard her remains against Hel's fury, felt that she owed Vytis loyalty for the trust and love he'd given her during his life time.

Inevitably the years had passed and she gotten wiser, as the years went on she saw exactly what Astridr was. Astridr was leverage, there was nothing that Vytis would not do to possess her, to see her restored, Vytis would agree to anything she wanted if he got his one true love back. A part of her felt heartless, ruthless but the logic of her plan was sound and her motivations weren't entirely selfish, her aims were for the greater good. Long had the undead been pawns of the damned gods, the fodder sacrificed in their wars against the Aesir, and the Aesir were not much better. No, the undead were better left to their own devices, to winning freedom from Nifleheim while avoiding destruction. The redemption of the undead was at hand but they needed a strong and resolute leader to bring that future to them.


He didn't understand what she was waiting for; did she really think he'd refuse? Astridr…the thought of being so close once again, he really hoped this time he'd finally succeed, he wasn't sure if his heart could weather the heaviness of failure once more. From Almedha's silence he knew she was waiting for a verbal yes OR no. The answer was undoubtedly YES, "Alright, I will give myself to you to repay the debt of the blood price you paid for myself and Astridr. Where do you want me? How is this to be done?"

The way he worded it didn't sound right but he didn't know the right way to accept, to offer himself, and he wanted it to be done, done and over with, "I want to see her."

Almedha softly smiled, "Astridr's body is not here, I told you that she is safe, safe from everything. I would not bring her body to the danger of a battlefield. You'll have to trust me that I mean no deceit."

Vytis gazed at her and despite notable changes he saw in her behavior and mannerisms, damn him, he did still trust her. He couldn't believe that she would ever betray him even though every fiber of his being told him not to stupid in bestowing blind trust, he hoped she didn't give him reason to regret in the near future, "I will trust you," if any deserved it Almedha did because she had earned it, "How will this be done?"

"A blood exchange with the transformation cemented by the consumption of blood at first feeding, the first blood you taste must be my own it will sustain you until the first feed. The first feeding must come from any source but the undead, you cannot feed upon the living by a proxy, to truly call yourself a vampire you must feed directly. It is the act – some would call it the sin, of consuming the vitality of others to survive which will truly complete your transition. Choose your first feeding carefully for you will always be drawn to them if you do not drain them. I must know you are of sound mind, once I have drained you there will be no going back."

"Do I look like I am getting cold feet?"

"No, you look resolute, resolved in mind, which is why I ask."

It didn't really make sense for Almedha to doubt when he was decided. A part of him wondered if she hadn't maneuvered him into this blood exchange, she had seemed only too eager to mention anything that would draw them to this decision yet at the last minute Almedha turned craven, almost as if she didn't want to corrupt him after all, to save his soul possibly?

"Let's get it done."

Almedha situated herself upon the ground, her skirts of dark emerald gown contrasting beautifully against her pale moonlit skin. For a moment it made her look like a sensual fey belonging in the forest landscape until her eyes glanced up, crimson, showing her for the being of darkness she was. A hand was extended to him, palm up, her wrist perfectly balanced, poised as a sensual lure. The movement was oddly spellbinding but he was utterly immune to her beauty. Almedha was beautiful, always had been, but he'd never love her any more than he ever had as a mortal. His heart belonged to Astridr, no matter how breathtaking eternity made Almedha; he knew that he grow no closer to her. There was a practical ruthlessness about her that told him that even though they would live an eternity together their relationship would never grow or progress to more. Almedha was like an adopted mother to him but she was objective where a mother should bestow emotion, love upon her children. Hel had changed Almedha, Almedha had exchanged feelings and emotions for survival, it wouldn't endear her to him any further. It made him HATE Hel for robbing him of the closest thing he knew to love besides Astridr.

Stiffly he took her extended hand and Almedha pulled him down with surprising strength gently down beside her, close enough to her side that he was just short of being in her lap. Her hands curled around either side of his neck, smooth and soothing as she guided his head to rest upon her lap. Her delicate hands removed themselves as she descended upon his neck, fangs sinking into skin and vein. The first pull on the vein hurt for he felt her fangs tearing, forcing the blood to come forth, yielding to the seeking suction of her lips. Crimson eyes, glowing bright with vitality, captured his own. Almedha caught his gaze effortlessly and he felt the pain glaze over into pleasure underneath the guidance of her mind.


The moment his warm blood hit her tongue she was instantly assailed by the memories stored in his blood. Blood always held memories but lust and love, those emotions left the strongest imprint, sometimes the touch of either would sing for centuries before fading or last for an eternity embedded in the crimson stream of life. It should not, did not surprise her to see Astridr's memories preserved so strongly in his blood. It almost made her want to flinch; he'd so desired contact with the mere memory of her that he had cast himself in the eternal agony – the never-ending dilemma of allowing himself to remember at the expense of never being able to touch or know or feel, it was no wonder he was willing to sell his soul for the mere 'chance' to be with her. For a moment his agony was so powerful, cut her so deeply, that it weighed down her own awareness so heavily that she was lost to what she was doing. It was only the tension of his muscles beneath her fangs that made her aware that she'd not made the bite, the feeding pleasurable for him thus far, it was something she instantly rectified as she saw the first in a series of memories:

Vytis, young and handsome, gazing up at the pale petite form of Astridr, a girl several years his senior but his first real crush.

His childish eagerness at the news of their betrothal and his naive determination to impress Astridr, both which made him declare his naïve sense of love for her.

The empty years of the battlefield which saw him grow from boy to man and left him yearning for the bride he left behind, the woman he left waiting.

The fury and indignation he felt for Astridr when she'd been passed over, their mutual futures decided leaving him with Ingrid and Astridr with the shame of decline and the loneliness of death's approach.

The gentle tenderness in which he wooed her, instilling her with confidence while slowly lowering the walls around his own carefully guarded heart, ultimately surrendering it to her embrace slowly bit by bit, day by day.

The sight of them coiled in each other's arms and wrapped in each other's warmth, basking the night hours away in each other's presence.

The fear and worry her pregnancy impressed upon him, prompting him to lose himself in drink, in wine to escape the despair and agony of her decline.

The memories devoured her and she desperately pulled back to avoid being immersed in them. A part of her felt envious, JEALOUS, of Astridr, jealous of the dead! It disgusted her how petty that seemed but still she could not help but notice how her own empty marriage paled in sharp contrast to the warmth of their love match. She bitterly shut herself to the memories; she could feed without heeding them. In fact it would be better if she did, by now Vytis was so pale, so faint, not far from death, she thought as she gently stroked her index finger almost lovingly along his jaw line. She curled her arms around him, drawing him up in an embrace, to bring him close to her neck but she was shocked to meet resistance when she tried.

"No, not there," he didn't want to intimacy of the carotid, she realized, he didn't want to be fed from her neck; the contact drew him too close to another female. Almedha allowed him to sink back into place upon her lap, he was so far gone that he was practically dead weight as she drew her wrist up to her mouth. Fangs pierced the skin, exposing the radial artery, exposing her pulse, a red well of blood instantly rising to stain the surface of her skin before she brought it gently down to the fold of his lips, "Drink."


The warm, metallic liquid was placed against his pale cold lips, coating them in crimson red. For a moment he had no energy to do nothing and he thought that Almedha had gone too far, draining him dry to where he didn't have strength to drink even if he wanted to. A mental impulse writhed through his mind urging him to lock his lips around the red ruin of her small wrist and drink. He tried but he couldn't seem to coordinate his muscles and teeth to contract over the wound, to suckle at the proffered victual. Almedha twisted her arm allowing the blood to flow softly through his parted lips.

For a moment he paused before he felt himself react, seeking out the source and latching onto it. He felt a dull throb in his gums as if something was pushing itself out, he didn't yet realize that they were in incisors – the fangs he'd gain to feed. His hand grabbed the wrist, pulling in hard and fast against his hungering mouth. It was so very easy to lose himself to the warm beat of the blood entering his body. He closed his eyes reveling in feeling of the blood pumping fast and fervent beneath his insistent mouth, rejuvenating his emptied veins. Then his awareness of the blood began to recede giving way to…something else. At first he thought he was asleep, dreaming but then he realized that the images assailing his consciousness were not his own, they were Almedha's.

He saw her as a mere child promised at age nine to a male thirty years her senior all in an aim to further her family's social status at the sacrifice of her happiness. He saw how the unhappy young girl grew into an embittered wife, only acknowledged by her spouse when abused and ever shamed by his infamous capacity for extra-marital affairs with other women. He saw her bear his children, sparing every bit of love she could muster and give them only to have them grow distant and drift from her…

Suddenly the images stopped, he blinked, he wasn't sure what was going on but he knew he had been seeing Almedha's memories. It was like it was there one moment and gone the next, was she blocking him out? He understood if she had, it was bad enough to live through that way once and likely even worse to have such personal pain shared, no broadcasted through a blood exchange. Was it any surprise that Almedha despised her lot in life enough to abandon it in favor of one of her own choosing, her own making? New images manifested as new memories came to the forefront, when he saw that the Almedha of these memories looked much as she had in his mortal lifetime he realized she was hiding some, screening some of her memories and only exposing those she wished.

Almedha stepped forward into the room, he recognized it at once, it was his own room. His body lay upon the bed bearing every sign of struggle possible. Instant rage boiled in his veins at the memory of the Valkyrie's visit. Almedha had been right; she had raped him that night. At the very least his sins had made him deserving of Nifleheim but she'd chosen to make him suffer, magnifying his shame by forcing an unwilling and eternal service upon his enslaved soul. Almedha shared his disgust, he saw her walk forward, taking one of the dark Valkyrie's dark plumes from his chest, her hand curled into a fist, her claws ground the black feather into nothingness. She clambered onto the bed, drawing his dead body into her embrace and feeding upon the long cold blood.

That memory faded into another, showing her walk down a deserted hallway the one leading to where Astridr had been laid to rest. A single ball of bright flame held poised in midair above her clawed hands as she brought it out to suffuse the glow upon Astridr's unchanged face. A single clawed finger softly, with genuine care, moved Astridr's sun-kissed tresses out of her face. Almedha turned carefully and looked around, as though she was looking for someone tailing her, "Alright, let's move it." Almedha oversaw the removal of Astridr's body from her place of rest, it could only be supposed she took it to safety. Shortly after Almedha had killed those who aided her in cold blood, to truly protect the secret of Astridr's whereabouts.

He knew why she showed him that memory, to bring him to peace that Astridr's body was safe. It was the closest he'd get to reassurance that Almedha would fulfill her side of the bargain until she brought him to Astridr's body. It bothered him more than not to know that now he had no clue where his beloved lay in rest. Even though he knew Almedha would not wrong him a paranoid fear crept into his mind about how he'd have to turn Midgard upside down and scour for Astridr if Almedha didn't live up her promise. It was a stupid fear but like all stupid fears it crept into his mind so he engrained every bit of that memory especially the surrounding landscape and its changes while they had moved Astridr, to gain clues if he ever truly needed them. The next memory crept upon him as he was trying to recall and assimilate the nuances of the last, it snuck upon his awareness so easily, so simply because this memory started submerged in darkness.

A female was chained, her naked body bared to agony and torture so thick, so through it took him a moment to recognize Almedha beneath the dark red ruin of her skin. The once pale and flawless skin was marred with merciless cuts and mottled with sickening bruises. Almedha was left broken, starving, too weak to even stir to feed upon cold blood surrounding her, bathing her as she bled out. The ravenous hunger within was just another torture. Her throat contracted, barely healed enough for speech but enough for her to rasp coherent words, every syllable was agony but her words were allowed to be spoken, her words catching the rapt attention of her sadistic audience, her Queen. Speech was always allowed, all the better to hear her screams and hear her beg for mercy, "Please…please allow me to return to Midgard, to the children…"

"Why would I do that? Why would I want to do that?"

"I will do anything; suffer any number of years…please."

Hel's eyes flashed at the promise, the idea of her suffering at her hands in the future. Sick with shock, Vytis realized she got off on the promise of future opportunities to ruin the broken remnants of the woman before her. The goddess stepped forward her claws caressing Almedha almost loving before bringing her lips against Almedha's crackled lips, seemingly unbothered by the rough texture of the bleeding mess of them, "Yes, Almedha, you may go but your sentence will double, you'll pay twice as much for the delay you have imposed this day…remember that."

His mouth and fangs contracted around her wrist, the blood threatening to choke him as he retched realizing what Almedha had done, what she had chosen to do. How could she be given or endure worse then what he saw here? She had done it for him and for his children, he'd never taken or though Almedha had such an emotional stake for either of them. The thought of her sacrifice it made him feel suddenly unclean, unworthy to judge her. He had no right to judge her at all not when suffering to this degree, to this magnitude shaped her thusly. Almedha's love and compassion had been so heavily veiled that it shocked him almost as deeply as the gods cruelty. Hel might be the worse of them, the furthest extreme when it came to cruelty but they all had the capacity for it. Even the Aesir practiced it through object negligence if not outright spite…Almedha was trying to teach him something from these memories, he was sure of it.

A bright yet overcast sky was hanging over four figures of differing statures: one tall and three shorter, there was not any sharp contrast of height between the three children. Almedha was one and his throat caught as he looked upon his children – his and Astridr's. They grown since he left them, growth out of their cradle but not yet fully grown into maturity. They all could not be older than ten or eleven. Ismene and Eldrene carried the genes of his own dark appearance but Vergil was bright, golden, like his mother. In behavior Ismene was silent and dutiful, Eldrene was solemn and affected, and Vergil was detached, almost sullen with apathy. Almedha looked over her shoulder before turning her gaze upon Vergil, the straggler, who was trailing further and further behind, "Vergil, what is wrong?"

"Nothing, do we have to do this?"

"Do you not wish to pay your respects to your dearly departed parents?"

"No, I hate them."

Vytis froze, true agony peeling through him, he never wanted to hear that from his own child, let alone from the Astridr's own lips, their son's own lips

Almedha suddenly froze, her eyes glacial in the gaze she dispensed upon his wayward son, "Do not say such things. The memories of your parents do not deserve your enmity. Your mother was beautiful, graceful, and loving, when she bore you three she knew that deep down it would shorten her life expectancy and maybe even contribute to her death. The fact she knew and made the sacrifice regardless shows how much she loved you. Your father, he did not want to leave you, he was taken – stolen by Odin's Valkyrie. It disgraces your father's memory, your mother's sacrifice, and the very love they shared to conceive you three to make them the target of your hatred," Almedha knelt beside him, her eyes and tone softening from its harsh volume, "It is not wrong to be angry about what has been taken from you but that wrong was committed by the Gods, the fault lies with them."

"But the Gods are never wrong."

"They are, the Gods can be and are wrong. They wronged you! They wronged your Father and your Mother! Never let the innocent pay the price for your anger towards others…"

Vergil looked almost driven to tears, "I'm sorry, Almedha, I'm really sorry."

Almedha stood, her eyes surveying the boy before her, "I know…I know, Vergil, come!" She extended her hand out to the boy and he took it, eager to make amends, joining the procession with his two sisters. Privately Almedha wished the weight of her hypocrisy didn't cut her so deeply. Usually the innocent always paid the price; it would be no different in regards to her own vendetta against the divine.

Following that memory he saw flashes in which Almedha established and stabilized Vergil's rule. His mother, Lady Adalinde upon his own death had worked her way up, assuming the throne as Regent in Vergil's stead until he came of age. His lady mother later had decided she liked the power she acquired and was willing to displace Vergil of his birth rite to do it. Almedha removed Lady Adalinde discreetly by her own hand and all the while plied and arranged the foreign alliances that saw Vergil assume the throne at the young age of 14. Vytis was more grateful than he thought he would be to be able to have seen them. Centuries later he knew he'd NEVER know them personally but it alleviated some of his pain to know that the misfortune he and Astridr had shared ended with their deaths, that their children thrived and lived happily despite their absence.

No matter what he couldn't hide the fact he HATED the Valkyrie for stealing him from his own children, from taking away that opportunity, the choice to be involved in their lives through killing him, taking him. All in order for him to be just one more soldier in Odin's never ending forces. A part of him woke up, it was as if under Eir's guidance in Asgard he'd sleeping in strains of apathy but now he was awake once more: furious, enraged, and suddenly aware of everything that had been stolen from him and everything he'd missed. He'd NEVER forgive them for it.

He reveled in watching Almedha dispense her vengeance upon the Gods, he learned from the memories of her blood, learned of strategies and tactics used by the undead to draw upon their strengths while capitalizing upon the weaknesses of the Gods and their mortal Einherjar. The years seem to fill his awareness as he learned the history of several centuries through her eyes. Almedha never seemed to miss a single detail and amongst the undead she was truly a force unmatched, a force to be reckoned with.

Lithe in stature and imposing with her inhumane strength Almedha danced, her claws rending down enemies. Finally she paused, her scrutiny focusing upon a distant figure. Her lips peeled back in pure malice as she beheld the individual, her fangs shining in the moonlight as she charged. The female warrior turned putting down one vampire and turning to deal with Almedha next. Indigo armor shone to a pure shade of lavender in the moonlight overhead, sapphire eyes fixated on the approaching threat of Almedha, her straight silken blond hair billowing around her…

Vytis ' mouth contracted, the sight of that female delivering an immediate sucker punch that drove him back into awareness, into reality. In his shock he choked on the blood, red rivulets of the life-giving elixir dripping from his bloodied mouth. Instantly he felt Almedha pull him away and hold him down, her voice soft as she attempted to be soothing, "That's enough, Vytis, that's enough…"

Almedha had pulled him easily off her vein even though every part of him wanted to vault against her body and drive his fangs into her vein once more. The woman…the female in armor…he seemed to see Astridr so easily in the images of like individuals but unlike Sid'ren the memory of the armored Battle Maiden was like a direct match, "Who is she? Who is that, Almedha?"

Almedha was silent for a moment, she did not look down at him, her hands cradled him in her lap, "The Lady Valkyrie, Odin's Battle Maiden…"