The ancient temple stood solemnly amidst the snowy landscape of Tonsberg, Norway. And within its hallowed walls lay Odin's daughter and former leader of the Valkyrie, locked in a deep slumber. Her once shining blond hair, now changed silver, draped like an icy curtain around her face, perfectly mirroring her twin sister, Hela. Yet, where Hela's heart was darkened by war and bloodlust, Gyda's remained pure and steadfast.
"Your father, Odin, left you here to protect the Tesseract, didn't he?" asked the aging priest, his voice barely above a whisper as he approached the glass-like case that held Gyda in her stasis.
The priest had been the guardian and watcher of the cube and its protector for decades, ensuring their secret was safe from prying eyes. Even in her sleep, she was aware of what was around her, and at the priest's whispered voice, her mind stirred ever so slightly, her breaths slow and measured. Even in her sleep, she could sense the Tesseract's pulsing energy, a silent reminder of its immense power and the responsibility entrusted upon her.
"Yes," came a soft murmur from the mind of the Valkyrie into his own, surprising the priest. " It is My duty... to protect it."
The priest hesitated before continuing. "And the importance of the Tesseract? What makes it so vital that Odin would leave his daughter behind?"
"Power," Gyda's mind whispered to his, "To have it in your grasp would give the wielder the ability to traverse the cosmos, to reshape reality itself. It must not fall into the wrong hands."
The Priest shivered at the tension, sorrow, and stress that the woman conveyed, "My sister, Hela, craved its power, wished to conquer all realms, and spread death in her wake. Father locked her away in Niflheim, binding her imprisonment to his life force." recalling the distant memory and projecting it to him so he could witness the tragedy if she were to fail her duty.
"Then your duty shall remain until the end of time," the priest said solemnly, "Until the Tesseract is safe," Gyda corrected him; her mental voice barely audible as her mind drifted back into a more profound slumber.
"May the gods watch over you, Gyda," the priest whispered before leaving, his heart heavy with the knowledge of Odin's daughter's sacrifice for the universe's sake.
The temple's torchlight flickered against the walls, glowing warmly over the ancient carvings that adorned the wall that hid Gyda's sacred space. Who still lay in her slumber, seemingly unaware of the two men who had entered the chamber, "Remember, my son," said the elderly priest to his apprentice, "we are but mere mortals in the presence of divine beings. We must ensure their safety, as they have done for us," he said as he opened the door that hid Gyda and the Tesseract's chamber.
The apprentice nodded, eyes wide with awe as he gazed upon Gyda's resting form. "So, she is... a Valkyrie?" The apprentice felt a chill run down his spine, and he shuddered slightly before turning away from the chamber. He was grateful that such a powerful being watched over them all and hoped he could one day serve as faithfully as Gyda did.
"Indeed," the elder priest replied, "the Valkyries are fierce and skilled female warriors loyal to Asgard and Odin. They serve as the realms' protectors and guides for those fallen in battle," the Elderly Priest conveyed reverently as They continued their tour of the temple, marveling at its decorations and secrets until they had reached the end of their journey.
As they exited the temple doors, the apprentice's mind was still filled with thoughts of Gyda, "Then why is she here?" the apprentice asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.
"Ah, her story is tragic," the elder priest sighed as he closed the door to the chamber and enclosed her in darkness once again.
The Elderly priest pulled out a leather book and opened it carefully because of its age and fragility; it was a record that had been kept by the guardians of the past, which journaled their experiences with the Goddess, "She is Gyda, one of Odin's daughter's the former leader of the Valkyries. She was left on Midgard after her twin sister, Hela, was locked away in Niflheim. That dark Goddess of the underworld lusted continuously for war and death. She desired to use the Tesseract to cross the cosmos and conquer the universe."
"Such power," murmured the apprentice, casting a wary glance at the glowing cube nestled beside Gyda.
"Indeed, and that is why we must protect Gyda and the Tesseract at all costs," the elderly priest said firmly, "For generations, our ancestors have watched over this sacred place, worshipping the Asgardians and ensuring their secrets remain hidden from those who would misuse them," the elderly priest marveled as his finger ran down the list of past guardians, his ancestors.
"Will she ever awaken?" the apprentice asked, a hint of mournfulness in his tone.
"Only when the Tesseract is threatened," the elderly priest replied. "Until then, she remains in stasis, her commitment to safeguarding the Tesseract unwavering."
"May we be worthy of such a duty," the apprentice whispered.
"May we indeed," agreed the elderly priest, his voice somber. "Now, come. We must continue our vigil."
As they left the chamber, the torchlight continued dancing across the walls, casting shadows and illuminating the secrets that lay within. The temple remained silent as its ancient stones stood strong and bore witness to Gyda's eternal sacrifice and the unbreakable bond between the Asgardians and their mortal guardians.
Many years had passed while Gyda lay in stasis within the inner chamber. It was 1927, and her serene visage was still a testament to her unwavering commitment. The Tesseract glowed and pulsed from within her grasp like a beating heart, their fates intertwined through the ages; though the armored gloves she wore protected her from the full force of the energy which the Tesseract held, they didn't prevent some of the power from seeping into her and giving her abilities that were greater than the natural Asgardian strengths she already possessed. Her long, silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her ethereal face as she appeared to be suspended between life and death.
Just as his mentor had done with him, he was now escorting his own apprentice around the temple and introducing him to their precious charge, "Is it true," whispered a young priest, his voice trembling with awe, "that Gyda's psychic link with the Tesseract enables her to sense any threat from miles away?"
"Indeed," replied the elderly priest, his eyes never leaving Gyda's still form. "Her connection to the ancient relic is so strong that she can perceive any intention of harm – even when in this state."
"Remarkable," breathed the younger cleric, stealing another glance at the Asgardian warrior, "And her beauty... it's almost otherworldly." The elderly priest chuckled at the awe in his young apprentice's eyes and smiled, his eyes twinkling in the torchlight, "That's because she is," he said with a slight nod.
He stepped closer to the altar and continued. "Such is the nature of the Valkyries," said the elder priest, his tone respectful.
He gestured for his apprentice to come forward and lay his hands upon the armor of Gyda's gauntlets. The young man hesitated, but then he felt a gentle warmth emanating from within them, "But do not let her appearance deceive you. Gyda is a mighty warrior forged in the fires of countless battles. Her skill and power are unmatched among both gods and men."
"Yes," the apprentice replied, barely whispering as he closed his eyes and felt the power coursing through him. The young priest observed Gyda's body, encased in gleaming armor, her limbs long and powerful beneath the etched metal. Now he could see that beneath her celestial features was a strength and resilience that belied her delicate appearance.
When he opened them again, he saw a thin line of mist surrounding Gyda like an aura, shimmering with an inner light that matched her serene beauty. He knew then that no matter what happened in this realm or beyond it, she would always be there vigilantly protecting her sacred charge until called upon to do so once again, "Forgive me for asking," he said hesitantly, "but how does Gyda maintain such a link with the Tesseract?"
"Through a combination of divine magic enchanted into her armored gloves and unyielding will," the elderly priest explained, his voice filled with respect. "Gyda's bond with the Tesseract has been forged through centuries of devotion to her duty. It is said that her thoughts resonate with the essence of the cube, allowing her to tap into its power and sense any disturbances," The apprentice nodded slowly, his eyes widening as he took in this newfound knowledge. He was amazed by Gyda's strength and her commitment to her duty.
"It is no easy task to maintain such a link," the elderly priest added solemnly.
The apprentice bowed his head in respect before lifting his gaze once more to take in the sleeping figure of the Asgardian warrior. Despite all her strength and power, Gyda was still gentle and kind - a true protector of all that was good and pure, "then our task is to ensure that she never awakens," the young priest mused, his eyes wide with wonder.
"For if Gyda stirs from her slumber, it means that the Tesseract has fallen into the wrong hands," The apprentice knew that the stakes were high; he thought of all his training and all the wisdom he had acquired over the years. Was he strong enough to protect her from whatever danger may arise?
"Indeed," agreed the elderly priest gravely. "And should that day ever come, we must be prepared for the following darkness." With newfound determination, he stepped forward and knelt before the warrior goddess. He placed both hands on her armored gloves and spoke words of protection over her slumbering form, "May I never forget my duty or falter in fulfilling it."
The Elderly priest nodded his head at his apprentice's devotion to his newfound duty, "then let us Pray," and dropped to his knees before Gyda's resting form, following in the young man's example, "May Odin grant us the strength to protect both Gyda and the Tesseract from those who would misuse their power."
"May he indeed," whispered the younger priest, sinking to his knees beside his apprentice. Together, they bowed their heads in prayer, their voices echoing through the hallowed chamber as they prayed to the gods for guidance.
In the silent stillness of the temple, Gyda remained a beacon of hope, her unwavering devotion to the Tesseract a testament to the ancient bonds between Asgard and Earth.
It was 1942, fifteen years later, and the young priest was now a middle-aged man standing guard while his mentor was in the church. The air was heavy with incense, and it wafted out to him while he stood in the cool night air; candlelight was flickering, casting shadows upon the ancient stone walls of the temple in the heart of Tønsberg, Norway, where a secret had been guarded for centuries - one that held the key to unimaginable power and the fate of worlds. He heard a rumbling in the distance, and then the earth began to shake beneath him. When the young priest, dressed in guard fatigues, looked towards the forest surrounding the town, he saw trees begin to fall.
When the cause of the horror and destruction was revealed, the young priest shuddered with fear. "by the Gods," he pleaded, "protect us from the evil this war has brought to our home! Please, protect that which we have been entrusted with for so long. May it remain a secret forever!"
The first thing he saw was the trail of smoke, like the one left by a plane passing overhead, except it was green and there was no plane to be seen; he then heard a deep, rumbling sound, like the thunder of a landslide or a meteorite passing by overhead, "what the hell is that?" that's when he heard the screams of the people he'd lived beside his whole life, the young priest heard the rumbling of machines, and the popping gunfire.
The soldiers were droning on in their heavy accents, filthy from weeks of battle, the devastation that surrounded them was like no other, and their faces held no compassion, no mercy, "Kill these Norwegian Dogs," one soldier shouted as he slammed his fist against the weathered and battle worn tank.
"keep moving," said another, "we show no mercy here, Hail Hydra!" the Soldiers moved with vigor as they made their way through the town, making a path of destruction; the other shoulders shouted out the motto, "Hail Hydra!"
As the soldiers, trucks, and tanks moved closer to the monastery, he looked up at the sun sinking behind the hill's crest. The sky in between was a deep crimson red with streaks of dark pink clouds. It reminded him of something his mentor had said once about the balance and natural turn of the world. Once again, it dawned on him that everything still worked the same way, even in this time of war. He was sure when a jeep carrying what looked to be a high-ranking German officer that the monastery was his destination, and it was further confirmed when his forces turned from shooting and killing his people and followed their leader towards him.
He stumbled into the monastery, gasping out in terror, "The Germans! They're coming!" It wasn't hard to boast of his bravery when he was younger and proclaim his dedication to guarding the Valkyrie and Tesseract- but that was before the turmoil of war engulfed his nation. His old mentor approached him, aged and fragile yet with unwavering resolve. He declared solemnly, "Then let them come."
The door was blasted off its hinges as a group of soldiers dressed in black stormed into the holy sanctuary throwing the elderly priest to the floor and the younger against the wall; infused with courage, he picked himself up and stepped forward and addressed their leader; "You have made a mistake by coming here; this is a sacred place and under God's protection. He will punish your transgression."
The leader replied with disdain, "Your faith has blinded you," he sneered, turning away from the young man after he gestured to one of his men to kill the priest. He approached the elderly priest who stood before the door that hid Gyda's resting place.
Carefully surveying the room, the officer searched for what he was after. "It has taken me so long to find this place; you should be commended for hiding it so well," He stated brashly, walking over the rubble which littered the floor. "Help him up," he ordered, which his soldiers complied with; the elderly man looked at him with hatred and pity in his eyes, this man, Herr Schmidt, was going to receive a fate worse than death if he dared try to take what he and his ancestors gave their life's, and their lives to protect.
"I think that you are a man of great vision. And, in this way, we are much alike," Schmidt commented as he stood before the priest, who was looking at him like he couldn't believe he'd dare to come here, "I am nothing like you," the elderly man retorted in contempt at being compared to the power-hungry overly ambitious man before him.
"No, of course, but what others see as superstition you and I know to be a science," he affirmed confidently. The old priest looked at Schmidt in disbelief, though he kept his composure as he spoke, "What you seek is just a legend," the elderly priest hedged.
Herr Schmidt was unperturbed by the priests' attempts to dodge his questions. He knew what he sought was true and had come here seeking it. He asked the elderly man, "Then why make such an effort to conceal it?"
He walked over to a tomb that stood in the middle of the monastery, took off his hat, and handed it to one of his men to hold; he then placed his hands on the lid of the stone coffin and pushed it off, causing it to hit the ground and crumble into pieces; desecrating the resting place of the first Viking who stood watch over the Valkyrie and the Tesseract. He reached in and pulled a cube from the skeletal hands of the body within; he looked at it infuriatingly stoically because he knew it was not what he'd searched so long and hard for. It had no power or thrum of energy; it held nothing indicating that it could change the world.
As he stared at the cube made from glass, he described with passion the object he was seeking, "the Tesseract was the jewel of Odin's treasure room before it was sent to Earth for protection." Schmidt let the cube drop to the stones below him, and they both watched as it shattered, "It is not something one buries."
His tone became more annoyed before conjecturing, "But I think it is close, yes?" The elderly man shook his head determinedly, refusing to succumb to this tyrant and keeping his vow to protect the Valkyrie and the cosmic cube, "I cannot help you."
"No. But maybe you can help your village. You must have some friends out there. Some little grandchildren, perhaps? I have no need for them to die," whirring of the Tanks mechanics was heard, and the priest turned his head just as the long guns moved towards the village and where his children and family who might have survived were living. The old priest slumped in defeat as he prayed silently, "Forgive me for failing my duty, my Goddess; I must protect my family, and I pray you can make right my sin against you," his shoulders slumping in defeat, and a sigh escaped his lips. He glanced over to the wall covered in the etching of Yggdrasil.
"Yggdrasil," Schmidt remarked in a captivated tone, "Tree of the world. He moved towards the wall, scanning the intricate carving with a fascinated eye, "Guardian of wisdom. And fate, also. And the Führer digs for trinkets in the desert." The priest watched as Schmidt's expression shifted from one of curiosity to one of excitement, his blue eyes gleaming with anticipation; the man's felt his stomach dropped to his feet because, in that glance, he knew that Herr Schmidt had figured out how to open the door. And as he pushed the Eye of Jörmungandr (the world serpent), Gyda's chamber was revealed.
"Ahhh! And there it is," Schmidt said as he strode inside the enclosure; as he stepped nearer to the stone table, he noticed the runes carved on its surface were radiating a faint luminescence. "And, this must be Gyda Odin's daughter and protector of the Tesseract," he glibly remarked. He stared at the young woman lying as if dead but was just asleep, who was holding on to the very thing he'd come for, "You have been the last among your kind to have seen this; it must humble you to be in the presence of such a person and the power she protects."
Herr Schmidt moved closer to Gyda, studying her and the Tesseract she held within her armored grasp with an unblinking gaze. He reached out his hand, brushing away a lock of hair from her face, and remarked in awe, "A relic like Gyda, the daughter of Odin, should not be left to gather dust while the world moves on."
"Johann Schmidt," the priest replied, his voice steady despite the fear that tightened around his heart. "You are unworthy even to speak the name of our goddess. She and the Tesseract are not mere relics but forces beyond your comprehension, linked together for a far greater purpose than you could ever imagine."
"Ah, yes," Johann said, circling the stone table that held Gyda's still form. "The great goddess of life, bravery, and protection; Odin's forgotten daughter. Tell me, priest, what use is she when her world has long forsaken her?" he asked patronizingly as he gazed at her shrewdly.
The priest raised his chin stubbornly, "her duty remains unchanged," he said confidently, refusing to budge. "As does ours. We protect this temple and its secrets and watch over her and the Tesseract, just as our ancestors have done for generations."
"Then it seems you have failed," Johann retorted, his eyes locked onto the glowing cube. "For I am here, and I will take both the Tesseract and the sleeping legend from your feeble grasp."
"Be warned, Johann Schmidt," the priest spoke, raising a trembling hand in defiance. "You meddle with forces you cannot possibly understand. Should you continue down this path, you will burn."
"I have no fear," Johann replied coldly, reaching out to claim the Tesseract with a gloved hand. "For I have already been burned."
Schmidt then shot the priest in the stomach and gestured with his for his men to take the warrior and the tesseract and transport them back to his stronghold; as he walked out of the chamber, the priest called to him weakly as he attempted to rise, "Your words are those of a madman," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rush of blood pounding in his ears, "but know this - Gyda is not as helpless as she appears. She will awaken when the Tesseract calls to her and stop at nothing to protect it."
Herr Schmidt scoffed at the old man's dying warning and continued his way out of the monastery, "Let her try," turning his attention back to Gyda as his men walked her through the whole the tank had created. "She will find that she has slept too long, and the world she knew has crumbled beneath her feet," was his cold reply.
The weak and shuffled movements told of the gravity of his actions as the preist struggled to get to the door, and all he could do was watch helplessly, his heart heavy with dread. "May Odin grant you mercy, Gyda," he whispered, his voice barely a breath in the still air as life left him, and he joined his ancestors in the golden halls of Valhalla; "For you will need all your strength to face the darkness that now threatens us all."