King0fP0wers: I remember hearing of that though haven't found it in English. There was another with the hero brigade where she voiced being upset her father was sealed. I felt it was better to make my own Hela rather than use that one as she is quite generic lol. In Norse myth Draugr are basically vampires, people not properly buried rising so Dorian wouldn't become one unless he died. That is why Gasper became one when fused with his blood.
FateBurn: Thank you.
God of war: Indeed, lots coming at once, though they know they cannot win in direct combat against Hela and making war against Helheim would mess with the balance. I hope you like what is coming ;)
J0cker981: Lol, Dorian turns on the charm to put the moves on the half-dead goddess XD Then again, she does love her deals...
Hollowreaper 93: For Freyja, Dorian would have sacrificed much, he wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her.
Ronmr: Oh, Azazel did that in a subtle way, his remark that time for Baldur had been bought by Dorian did not go unnoticed lol ;) As for the boat...not all things will come into play this arc, but best not be forgotten :)
Slayer Cross: To answer your questions 1. most certainly, up until now he has believed that the mists just mess with your head...now he learns a few details to that. 2. Demiurge's Blood, aka the blood of Samael is a powerful poison in the DxD universe. He was the being in DxD that tempted Adam and Eve and was cursed with the ire of god. It's immensely deadly to all living things but most notably to dragons. 3. I hope to not disappoint :D
The Chaos Phoenix: Oh he did in his own way, letting Hades know that Baldur got time thanks to the Einherjar, Hades understood lol. He will not leave things be easily...
TheLycan2026: That means a lot, knowing that the visuals come across so clearly :D I will most certainly keep going as best I can.
fanficcyberman: Things have been going wonderful, thank you for asking! I hope things have been just as great for you. Indeed, they may not be able to kick in the front door, but they are finding other avenues...
WinterRuneWolf: Sorry ;( I can't help it lol, gotta leave the audience craving more mid-arcs. I suppose I'll have to keep writing to make amends ;)
michael68: The best Morale Officer Hela could ever hope for! Bring some life back into her subjects XD Your joke segments are always a pleasure to read lol.
OBSERVER01: I didn't have any plans to crosspost anywhere as seriously as on Fanfiction dot net. I have posted a few chapters on Deviantart but they get so few views compared to here I haven't been keeping up regularly.
GunBlade2020: Exactly his thought, he promised Rossweisse he'd take better care of himself...but there was no way he could have let Freyja go through that when there was something he could do. And I most certainly will! :D
KurokamiTendou: You really think so? I don't know what to say...I hope to keep that sentiment going and never disappoint!
And with that...ONTO THE SHOW!
The march was slow and poignant, clearly Hela's attempt to ingrain how like the dead Dorian had become. He and Iggy walked behind her, the soup-like mists parting before her approach bending to their mistress' will. The first sight upon crossing the gate was an imposing giantess awaiting on the other side.
"Did all go well Mistress? She asked, voice stern and sharp denoting her absolute loyalty. The keeper of the Gate to Helheim
"Well but unexpected Mooguor," Hela replied with a flick of her hand. "Call ahead will you and have hospitalities prepared, we have new full-time guests."
"It shall be done," she crossed a fist over her chest, lifting her gaze up just enough to get a good look at Dorian and Iggy.
She's bigger than Ygritte! The enslaved Einherjar could not help but note. Even kneeling she towered over him over twice his height. The watcher of the bridge into Hel eyed him up and down, throwing a coy wink before Dorian snapped forward once more.
The landscape opened up before them, his grip on Iggy's tightening as they beheld the plains of Hel…Helheim. Far in the distance sat an immense castle or it may have been a city fashioned into the shape of one based on the size. The pair followed, glancing to either side able to take in a vision not held by any alive. Shapes beyond counting, thousands, thousands upon thousands toiled among the frozen ground. Once their eyes adjusted to the reflection from the sky of perpetual twilight, they could make things out better.
While the land was covered in ice, beneath the surface they could make out other terrains. Grass, mountains, even lakes and rivers rested just below in a perpetual state of limbo. Those on the surface looked emaciated and corpse-like, yet surprisingly were going about day-to day activities. He saw people working, slow processions between buildings and those carrying supplies over their shoulders. From Dorian's perspective they were all living their lives just as they had in the outside world.
"Surprised?" Hela snapped him back to his current situation. "Did you expect fields of zombies and pits of endless torment?"
"A bit," he admitted. "From what I've read, no one wants to end up in Helheim. Baldur fought his entire life and yet…"
"I do not make the rules," she interrupted with a snap. I must enforce them as is my station. They do call me the mother of the sick after all, unless he succumbed to the injuries on the battlefield all who die in such a way are mine."
"Regardless of their previous acts in life?" Iggy asked. Yggdrasil had taught her much of the Norse people, yet such a decision made from a single event unnerved her.
"Some can shift the scales," she admitted. "Ironically it was the blessed Allmother's charm that ensured his arrival here. Battles wherein the warrior is invincible do not prove valor."
"So, they live here like when they were alive?"
"In their own way. Their simple, placid lives here," she clarified with a slight sneer as if relishing the irony of the situation. "No fame, no fortune, no break from the everyday or excitement from the mundane. Some would be content in such an existence, for others as they say elsewhere…Hell is repetition."
The rest of the way to her castle was in silence, Dorian and Iggy each contemplating their place in this domain. The sense of forced complacency hung heavy over the land with few things standing out; the giantess at the gates and much to Dorian's unease, a massive eagle perched atop them, a chilling breeze biting through his soul with each beat of those mighty wings.
"I would tell you to get warm, but I find the jest would be lost on you," the goddess remarked with a dry touch of wit. "Considering your…rarity, you will be nearby at all times."
A door not far from her grand chamber swung open ominously, prompting Iggy and Dorian to glance inward simultaneously. Inside was a relatively well-lit bedchamber filled with candles and other mosaics of Norse Mythology. A table of fruit, assorted breads and other food sat off to the side, Dorian's lips watering a bit at the sight. Were it not for the lifeless and draining color scheme it would have reminded him of the palace of Asgard where he first awoke. In the very center was a modestly carved wooden bed with dragonheads chiseled at each corner. They could not help but notice she only provided one.
Iggy can retreat into my mind, Dorian thought, understanding the goddess' rationale hoping it wasn't the suggestive alternative. Can't have her trophies taking up too much shelf space...either that or she just loves messing with people.
"I'm sure you'll settle right in, been saving that space for something truly unique," Hela explained, gliding towards her throne while beckoning them to follow. "Who knows little one, perhaps you will blossom into your own world tree in time." Iggy blushed at the remark, never having thought of her future potential. "Just picture it, a world tree in Helheim, wouldn't that twist the old man's beard? What is your name?"
"I-Iggy," she muttered sheepishly.
"Not your true name I imagine?" She shook her head in answer. "What is it?" Iggy shifted uncomfortably, taking several moments before Hela understood. "You don't know your birth name? A pity, perhaps I shall fashion one for you…can't have a world tree brightening up the place without a label."
"Is that what you want of us?" Dorian finally spoke, eyes focused without a hint of hesitation. "To just sit around and look pretty?"
"Oh, lords no," Hela leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "You are still alive for the moment. That makes you handier than most of my subjects. "What did you do for my cherished Blood-Aunt?"
"I served as her retainer," he explained with a twinge of nostalgia. "Penning letters, confirming missives, running errands…"
"Oh, I disdain paperwork," she interrupted with a wave of her hand. Dorian did not get a chance to continue as the bracers burned, cutting off his speech. "Errands on the other hand do sound useful, most of my gofers are so slothful. I suppose traversing the mists of Hel would be difficult without me to part them."
"I'll be fine," Dorian remarked confidently as Iggy faded away back into his mind. Holding up Laerad Ragnarok he showed a soft white-gold pulsating from the gem to surround his entire body.
"Alfheim," she snorted in disgust. "I suppose it can't be helped. This must be QUITE odd for you," she smiled coyly while leaning forward in her throne to show off her shifting cleavage between life and death. "Do I look so much like that Kara?"
The brief days Dorian had been roommates with Kara, Loki's illusion or in disguise when a physical entity, passed quickly by. It turned his stomach that he'd been observed solely to be manipulated in Hrotti's theft and Rossweisse's incarceration. Deep down however, he had to admit he had back then, he nodded slowly in response.
""And here you get to be roommates again," she clearly knew some of what Loki did to him. "If you want to see your Kara again or anyone else you might miss, all you need to do is turn off that little night light of yours."
"I've experienced what your mists do," Dorian's eyes narrowed in clear disgust.
"Only the first stages," she smiled at his ignorance. "That is merely to break the will, show those who inhale it how meaningless their trials are when all is said and done. Once that is done, the miasma can be quite pleasant keeping you in a state of…blissful lucidity."
"Keeping everyone passive you mean."
"You're catching on, good boy," she clapped condescendingly before snapping a finger causing his light to go out. "The mists generated by Hraesvelgr's wings can show you many things, your dreams, nightmares, uncertainties, even…"
A mass of clouds coalesced before them, making even Hela tilt her head in confusion. Thunder rolled within as they investigated the swirling depths. The crashing of waves greeted them, water rippling as far as the eye could see in either direction. They would have thought it the view of the ocean, however the goddess who had long reigned in Helheim knew better.
Please stop, Iggy silently pleaded on deaf ears as Hela would not listen.
The sky was in a familiar state of Twilight and when peering closely at the water the land beneath could barely be seen, her land. The mountains, plains and rivers of Helheim currently frozen deep beneath the ice was there free of its freezing landscape. The connotations were clear.
Helheim…melted? But he has only just come here, how can his mind contain such details?
Hela glanced about, finally noticing a silhouette far-off of the vision projected by the mists from her Einherjar's mind. Quickly, as nonchalantly as she could, Hela waved off the image just as the first of many heads of the shape turned towards her. The goddess did not understand the sudden instinctual wave of dread that came over her, a sensation she could not recall ever feeling in her long life.
"Such an…imagination your nightmares can twist," she half-complimented a confused looking Dorian at her sudden disinterest in seeing his subconscious fears. "You may be better at this post than you thought."
"If it keeps the bargain for Baldur," Dorian stood up straight.
"Oh, you can drop the charade of propriety," Hela scoffed as she slouched atop her throne. "We don't have need for such things here. Not that you don't remind me of a certain naïve young woman long ago."
Dorian's attention was locked on her, a rarity for the Mistress of Helheim. Deprived of company for so long, the daughter of Loki continued.
"I thought being appointed to such a post was a great honor," her cynicism bit with every word. "Well that feeling died quicker than anyone here. My big brothers went off to do their own things while I remained here, the one mostly living thing in the entire realm."
As Hela continued, Dorian ducked quickly into his room, retrieving the plate of food. Without breaking the tone, he placed it on the grand table before her throne so that it could be shared. She paused only a moment out of her nature before snatching an apple, taking a solid bite before continuing.
"Seeing the various souls for their attributes; blonde, redhead, hero, monster, triplet…it certainly passed the time quickly enough. I suggest you do the same, how are my siblings?" She asked almost as a passing fancy. "I hear you have access to both."
"They are within the Road Between Realms," he admitted, tearing off a piece of bread with some cheese. "I made a pact with Midgardsormr, while Fenrir…" he paused, shifting the charm made from his fang out of sight. "Not so much."
Hela let out a raucous, almost hardy laugh at the news. "Oh, we will make splendid company until end times if you keep those stories up," she raised a cup of wine before taking a sip. "If you can get past my disturbing visage," she motioned towards her features constantly shifting between a beautiful goddess and a corpse. "Maybe even have some fun on a lonely night or two."
"There is nothing disturbing about it," he replied unexpectedly, cheeks reddening at the mental image yet he had grown accustomed to such teasing from Kuroka. "Your brothers are a dragon and wolf after all, and I've seen my fair share of people of various races."
"If you're trying to kiss ass for a chance at freedom, that isn't going to happen."
"Of course, I'd rather be free!" Dorian snapped suddenly at her condescending tone. "Of course, I'd rather be out with Rossweisse, Thrud and the others! I wanted to make Lady Freyja proud, to help bring the various myths together after I graduate and maybe Rose and I…"
If you kill her, you can be rid of her with taking the power of the dead to boot.
Dorian realized his fist was clenched tight, the frustration at his decision bubbling up. Whether it was his own will or an effect of the mist he didn't know. Calming down, he slumped back into his chair.
"But…you still made the deal, you let Baldur go. Whatever else might have come from it, thank you for that."
"You are without a doubt the strangest Einherjar I've ever met."
In the best way possible.
Dorian was silenced by Iggy's compliment, a silence falling between the two until their food was finished. As the wine ran dry, an eagle small for its kind fluttered inside, dropping a note in front of Hela before taking off again swiftly, knowing it would get no praise or reward.
"For the love of…," Hela groaned as she read the missive before looking up to the young man. "Incompetence all around me. You are a skilled in combat are you not? To have lifted a faux Mjolnir after all." Dorian nodded, sure of his abilities honed from training for so long. "Excellent, how would you like your first errand? I do believe I have a job that may fall within your select talents. It seems we have a ne'er do well who thinks he can escape the fate chosen for him."
Moments later…
As Dorian departed the hall, Hela sat a little more properly atop her throne. With her power it would have been child's play to capture the escapee once located, but that was not the proper way of things. A queen need not act when she has subjects at her command. On top of that, she wanted to see what her latest collectible was capable of.
HELA!
"Ah, I was wondering how long it would be before you showed up," she smiled leaning back in her seat, eyes closed focusing on the voice transmitting directly into her thoughts. "Got anymore wayward foreign souls for me?"
You have something of mine, you WILL turn him over to Elysium and myself.
"You mean the delightful young lad?" She teased mockingly. "But we have such wonderful conversations together. I don't think I can bear to give him up."
The brat is owed to ONE afterlife already, mine. He does not belong in yours, the byproduct of a useless gesture. If one is known to walk as he pleases from one land of the dead to another…
"A tad upset I succeeded where you failed?" She did not await a response, sensing his rage fuming even through the connection. "He is hardly the first soul meant for elsewhere to end up in my halls."
He will draw undue attention. If the others start looking at your 'collection' too closely…
"They will find guests who would otherwise not be here," she interrupted. "I am no traitor; I was bidden when I took this post to offer all who are sent my way a place at my table. I do not recall specific commands to turn away any for where they came from. Now, if they asked who sent them to me…"
Do NOT test my patience, we are both rulers of the damned and can see more than most. This will only bring ruin.
"The last soul your associates sent my way is the only ruin that has been thrust upon me dear Hades. His kind seem apt at evading my guards. No matter, the mist would have claimed his mind by now but just in case I have sent my new pet to chase him down. He is just delicious, you missed out on your chance at him. I can just picture all the fun he and his fetching soulmate will have over the next few millennia down here."
Asgard…
"And you're sure they aren't going to arrest me nya?"
"Only if you keep asking," Freyja grunted in annoyance. It was the third time she had asked in as many minutes.
The two women, with Thrud at their side, pushed themselves as they tended to Baldur. With the identity of the poison ravaging Baldur revealed, the three were focusing all their skill in Sage Arts toward keeping his still-dead body intact until the other preparations could be completed. It would be a long night but between Lady Freyja, her Sage Art protégée Thrud and a master such as Kuroka, but they had a chance. It had taken some convincing to cool Thrud's desire to storm Helheim but at the sight of her uncle's soul she had tentatively agreed and returned to Asgard.
"We have time," Freyja assured her. "Dorian can take care of himself, damn him for making that choice for us. The others are pursuing different avenues to barter with Hela once more."
"Very well," Thrud's anger was boiling however not as high as it oft did in the past. She internally blamed Dorian for that. Even had her fury been at its peak, it was nothing compared to the restrained rage simmering behind Freyja's eyes.
"If my beloved little sister could have made it, we'd have no chance at losing," Kuroka teased, her demeanor surprisingly helping break up the overcast tone of the room.
The youngest son of Odin lay within a shining casket of shining gold and extravagant gemstones. It had been intended to be what carried him to Hringhorni, the greatest of ships to ever come out of Asgard for his funeral procession. That magnificent vessel dwarfing all others would be forced to wait in the harbor and go wanting for a passenger, at least if Freyja had anything to say about it.
"Thank you both," she whispered as they worked, sweat pouring from their collective brows as the many hours had trickled on. Their armor had been discarded in order to allow their skin to breathe, leaving them in their robes and "Thank you."
"I would never abandon you grandmother," Thrud assured. "He will survive, and then we go to get Dorian back."
"As if I could decline," Kuroka winked. "You know what they say, after his stomach the best way to a man is to get on his mother's good side. At least if the first plans fail."
Freyja did not dispute her words, Thrud remembering Iggy's own of how Freyja thought of Dorian though had never admitted it. She had noticed during many of their meetings together she was gentler of tone than with other retainers, even the somewhat-skilled ones.
Trading one son for another in a way? Oh Grandmother, we both just can never find the right words, can we?
"Once Azazel's specialist arrives," Freyja muttered under her breath as if able to read Thrud's gaze. "And Baldur is safe…I am going to war."
"But Asgard cannot make war on Helheim," a handmaiden drying towels used to wipe away the sweat from the women. "It could upset the balance between life and death!"
"I did not say Asgard my dear," she clarified with a growing grin of satisfaction rising from Thrud's lips. "I said 'I' will go to war…"
Grandmother, how I like this side of you, Thrud could not keep from thinking. Hela won't know what hit her.
"That will be a while more," a grizzled laid-back voice from the entrance informed. "My skills may surpass the three of you, but all the same this will be no speedy procedure."
"Lord Wukong?"
"That's my name, don't wear it out," the elder monkey-youkai sighed while meandering into the chamber, picking at an ear as if it would alleviate his boredom. "Now, where's the patient."
The entire congregation stared blankly, Baldur's casket in the center of the chamber and impossible to miss.
"No chuckle? No one? Aw well," He moved closer, holding out a hand shining bright with power dwarfing Thrud and Kuroka. "Hmmm, you weren't kidding, that is some high density in there. You all worked hard to keep his body so pristine, I thank you for that."
"How is it you are here?" Freyja asked in jubilant confusion.
"I asked his presence as an honored guest," Odin appeared at the doorway behind the elder youkai. His eyes perked up as he beheld the three tending to Baldur, a grin quick to follow. "Well, it's always a blessed day to see you sweating so profusely my dear." His words may have been terrible, but the perversion in his tone was unexpectedly muted.
He truly can't help himself regardless of the situation, Freyja sighed in full understanding of her husband.
Even as Freyja worked in vain to heal him on her own when the identity of what plagued them remained hidden, the Allfather had sought out the penultimate master of Sage Arts and sole wielder surpassing his wife's skill, calling in many favors that he held with those far-off people. Between the two with Thrud and Kuroka supplementing, their hope was kindled high. "For a moment there I feared you would decline."
"And pass up your hospitality? I may be old but not too old for that," the Buddha formerly of the Hindu Vanguard retorted while redoubling his efforts as Odin spoke with his love. Only Freyja could hope to keep up with his utter mastery of Sage Arts. "The drinks can wait, ladies if you'll refocus at the liver, spinal column and circulatory system, we can…"
"We are slower in our old age," Odin half-apologized. "I feared we would not make it in time."
"You would not have," Freyja bit back her frustration while motioning to the urn upon the table. "Baldur passed away several hours ago, he resides there."
Odin's visage contorted at the news, focusing with but a single sentence escaping his lips.
"What happened?"
Hel's Landscape…
The forlorn Einherjar pushed his way through the mist following the instructions Hela had given him for the task ahead. Frigid cold bit into him despite the twin orbs of Hestia he kept perpetually floating above each shoulder. He thought often of turning back, only for the gold bracers etched upon each wrist to grow warm in warning if he neglected the commands of his mistress.
A rogue soul? Dorian mused internally to his sole remaining companion. The Lady of death neglected to reveal the identity of the fallen who had eluded her best enforcers, finding it entertaining to see how he would handle it. To think some can cause trouble even after death, think this is something she'll have us be doing often?
It may give us a chance to learn the area, maybe some way of breaking the pact?
If we do it has to be by the book, he cautioned knowing full well they could escape at any time but would mean Baldur's forced return. We'll find a way home the right way.
I hope so, at least Lady Freyja will be happy with her son. But Rossweisse and the others…
Dorian bit his lip, the image of how Rossweisse would have taken the news churning at his heart. They had finally said all the things they wanted to and yet now…
"The mistress sent thee?" A man in ragged blacksmith clothing asked out of the corner of his eye as he entered the borders of the missing soul's last location. "We have been expecting you Einherjar."
The man was as emaciated as all were in the area, though even then he was still quite taller making Dorian wonder just how big he had been in life. Despite the outward weakness, he held an impressive hammer set over a shoulder. His eyes were lidded, giving the appearance he was utterly tired, his pale orbs glancing up at the Hestia spheres as if they were the first light he had seen in years.
"Did he come through here?"
"He did," the smith nodded. "We tried to restrain him, but he was powerful, our eternal toil cannot end but many were banished to be reformed later. We will hunt him again at that time, but for now the mistress has commanded to give you a wide berth."
So even death here doesn't count? He felt pity for those who dwelt there likely having only committed the sin of dying of old age, living a peaceful life or in Baldur's case sickness. By that rationale I'll be here someday, it's not right.
Mother tutored me on our people before I spoke to you. Honorable combat and death were the way long before modern ideals of long-life and peaceful contentment. It was determined then to be a fair and just method.
I don't see much justice being forced into a placid limbo for the sin of wanting to live in peace and growing old. A flash of he and Rossweisse living old together brought a bit of a smirk to his face, causing the flames of Hestia to burn higher.
"Please," the smith begged quietly. "Please dim your radiance. It is…so bright."
"Oh, sorry," he remarked as the shimmering glow across his body grew lower. Along with Hestia's flame, he had expanded the light of Alfheim to form a thin membrane surrounding his body. With such a low power output he could maintain it near indefinitely until exiting the mist-filled regions. "Keep your people back, I will enter to find him."
"As the lady of twilight commands," he half bowed before withdrawing. Hundreds were gathered around, some shirking back uncertain before Hela's emissary while others inched closer entranced by the lights from his body. He looked away, not wanting to contemplate the sheer number of children present among them.
Dorian moved ahead; the smith having motioned to the maze of forests surrounding their pale shade of a village. The path at first was obvious, easier than tracking the troll back in Norway. Cracked branches, disturbed snow and ice with tatters of gold cloth leading the way deeper. As the hours groaned on the trail grew scarcer and scarcer until he had nigh lost all trace of his whereabouts. In time, he found himself amid a glade of trees locked in their eternal icy embrace. No sound of animal, bug or living thing could be heard.
Maybe he was in a hurry at first, was sloppy but calmed down after putting distance from Hela's troops. Does he have some means to detect them? Maybe he won't see me coming.
Or he may be stronger than her enforcers, possibly one apt at dealing with…
Dorian kicked off the ground a fraction of a second before it collapsed beneath him. Bounding backwards he beheld a pit of razor spikes chiseled haphazardly from the ice of the region. A dozen former Einherjar lay impaled beneath groaning in their inability to die and be free of the trap they had fallen into. As he evaded the first, a hail of swords, axes and other weaponry flew through the air with a twang of trip wire he stumbled into.
Damn! He led us into a kill zone!
Dorian unfolded his shield to deflect them at the last moment, none of any great craftsmanship. He almost opened the path to the Roads for a weapon but thought against it. As long as they remained far from him, they were free. Anything he brought through could be claimed as Hela's and he did not wish to think of what she would do with the replica Mjolnir. Instead, he seized a half-broken shortsword nearby, readying it against the next assault.
"One by one, ruins the fun," an unsettling voice rose over the gentle wind passing through the area. "Two by two, fall to the few. Three by three, come hither to me!"
An orb of crimson energy wreathed in black tore through the trees, the first catching Dorian off-guard and skimming past his armor leaving a charred bruise and cracks behind. The second was not so fast, allowing for a defensive rune to form in his hands, catching the blast head on. The power behind it was almost too much, cracking his seal requiring a new one generated to replace it. Despite the loss of a magic circle, the attack gave Dorian all the information to realize what he was dealing with.
How is that possible? It's like Seekvaira's…that's devil energy!
He did not need to question his certainty long as the wielder of the magic descended from the darkness, some form of invisibility technique having masked his presence. Full talons extended from each finger, easily slicing through the sword he had claimed leaving him with only a hilt and several inches of shattered metal.
"I don't want to hurt you!" Dorian called out, shivering at the manic mindless expression in his opponent's eyes. "Return to your…"
The devil charged again; his power spiking even higher than before. Using the environment, the Norse warrior pulled a wall of ice from the closest tree, extending it into their path just as his foe smashed into it. The barrier shattered, sending a wave of fear over the maddened soul no doubt from the knowledge of what it was capable of on his already addled mind. Out of instinct, a pair of dark bat wings exploded from his back, his aura spiking high.
"NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!" He roared as his power soared higher with each passing second. "The crocodile swims fast in water, NOT ICE!"
The ice cracked and melted around them from the explosive power. Dorian planted his feet, Laerad Ragnarok shining bright gripping his broken blade tightly. Taking deep, measured breaths, he channeled a familiar light towards the sword.
"Not going back, never back only forward, maybe to the side if needed but NEVER BACK!"
Black wings cut through the air as he rushed towards Dorian, tears streaming down his pale skin. Each finger became infused with power, ten glowing red beams aiming squarely at his throat. A blood-curdling scream shook snow from the trees as the sword remnant in Dorian's hand was lodged in the devil's abdomen, the young man expertly dodging to the side at the final moment to avoid the strike before counterattacking.
"I rebuke the pain, rebuke the du…GAH!" He roared as his attempt to dislodge the useless metal failed. Burning spread through his body courtesy of the holy energy glow emanating from the edges Dorian had generated during his moment of respite.
"I said, SURRENDER!" He closed the gap between them, burying a fist emanating with holy light in the devil's gut.
"Pain will never be the same, get thee back from whence you came!"
Somehow ignoring the tremendous damage inflicted by the magic poisonous to his race, the man grabbed his fist with a free hand holding Dorian in place. From so close, the Crossroad's leader could make out better details including the tattered robes which now looked as if they had been much finer once upon a time. The fabric was high caliber, making the Einherjar guess he had been wealthy or well-known before ending up in Hel. His hair was graying, no doubt from the protracted time seeing gods know what in the mists but a few strands clung to the deep blue it had once been. He had pointed ears and only two devil wings on his back, removing the initial assumption he may have been from the Old Satan Faction. He could not help but spot an ornate family crest half worn away from the right breast of his opponent.
That symbol…
"Calm through the psalm, calm to the psalm," he muttered, his insane ramblings dying as an orange aura reverberated from the arm.
Where he had previously fought as a wild animal, the high-class devil knocked Dorian back with a wave of his hand, a barrier matching the aura in coloration surrounding him on all sides. Hands crackling with power, Dorian unleashed a torrent of Olympian lightning upon him. His eyes widened in awe as the bolts of power crashed harmlessly against his absolute defense without effect. He followed up with a punishing barrage of seals and runes, none of which breaking through.
"Safe within this place…safe within this place," bubbles formed across the surface of his protective shield, unleashing a massive sphere of demonic energy which tore through the air towards Dorian who barely dodged before it vaporized everything behind him.
He's stronger than Seekvaira or Rias, Dorian muttered internally as he kept up the punishing barrage and evasion from all sides with equally little effect.
And that barrier does not appear to be weakening, we will be exhausted long before we break through at this rate.
Without Twilight Star I can't wield Musphelheim safely, Olympian Lightning is hard enough, and it isn't making a dent. He wasn't very strong physically, but his power is immense!
Dorian grunted in pain, taking a blast to the chest scorching his Asgardian armor and sending him reeling. Crashing into a tree, his head struck the trunk, vision blurring.
Everything you do is pointless, but you must toil a while longer yet.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," he repeated while staggering to his feet. Fists clenched, he generated a seal of magic that flicked red and purple for a moment. To his surprise, a defensive rune burst to life many times stronger than normal, deflecting the latest barrage of devil magic that even Kokabiel may not have survived.
An opening given; he buried a green-glowing fist into the ground. From beneath his foe's feet, a trio of tendrils erupted where he had not thought to place his indomitable barrier. The mad opponent took flight to escape only to meet with Dorian descending on him from above, a gravity rune crashing into his face and driving his enemy back into the cold Earth, shattering it. Before the ultimate barrier could be reformed, the roots still awaiting him coiled about, trapping his arms to the side not stopping until he was completely ensnared from neck to toe. Rotating to ice blue, the cold of the realm took hold, freezing the vines into steel bindings from which he could not easily escape.
"Locked again!" The devil roared while attempting to reconstitute his aura and shield. "Locked like the hands of a clock! Name tarnished and body banished!
"Who are you?!" Dorian got right up in his face. "You are devil royalty, aren't you?"
"Body broken, name forgotten, will these but tokens left to our ultimate path?"
His method of speech is…most unsettling.
No kidding. That sigil, that was the Glasya-Labolas family crest. But what in the world is he doing here? Aren't devil spirits sent to a level of the Underworld or obliterated? He recalled the remarks of the current heir Zephyrdor being forced to be the new next head after the accidental death of his brother. He certainly resembled the thuggish devil, could this be him?
"Zaebos!" He yelled, remembering the name listed for the rating game from the reports he had before his death and replacement with Zephyrdor. To their amazement, his eyes cleared if only a little at the words."
"Zaebos? Prodigy of son, his soul away to be tossed."
"You died in an accident before the Young Devil Gathering," Dorian spoke slowly, trying not to set him off again. "What are you doing in Helheim?"
"Dead? Put to bed? Yes, slain to never return to that plane."
"Slain?" Dorian inched closer, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes. "You were killed?"
"No, cannot be so!" His eyes started darting left and right, his previous calm losing its hold. "Power insurmountable, defeat should be impossible."
"Please," Dorian asked again, his own voice betraying his frustration and sudden need to solve at least one question in that foreign land. "Who killed you?"
"Cannot be so! Rebuke the Duke! The Duke that did execute!" He pulled an arm free, reaching out to Dorian. "The Duke…!"
Dorian had heard enough, with the strength of Asgard and a surge of unexpected anger he delivered a powerful right hook to the man's face, knocking him unconscious. A glimmer of gold flew from the devil heir's neck, sinking into the snow nearby. Following the object, Dorian lifted the necklace from its frozen recess.
An ankh? Dorian puzzled with a huff of fatigue kneeling down beside his prisoner, mind racing with the information he had been provided. What is he doing with this? Doesn't seem very devil-like.
Finally, just end him and be done with it.
Exhausted, battered and fatigued from the battle, Dorian pocketed the exotic trinket, lifting another discarded blade from a fallen Einherjar. Approaching his defeated quarry, he angled it towards the throat still exposed by the roots.
"Just be done with it…" He quietly repeated, his tone lifeless and distant.
"Psst."
Dorian stopped with the knife an inch from his defeated opponent's neck, looking around for the source of the noise. After a few seconds he heard a familiar voice bringing a smile to his lips. As if waking from a trance, he looked down at the sword in his hands, dropping it with a gasp of shock.
What did I almost do? Why did I…?
"Hey kid," Ratatoskr's words echoed in the air coming from nowhere, clearly still within the Roads. "I heard you could use some company. Open the door and let me through."
"No," Dorian sighed as he caught his breath and slumped to the ground trying to understand what he had almost done. "If any part of me enters the Roads the pact is void and I don't want to risk her claiming you here, we can talk like this."
"Bullshit!" He shouted back. "You're stuck in the dick-freezing realm of madam moldy tits. Just hop out and we can go!"
Dorian held up his palm where the scar had been, even with it healed over and invisible to the naked eye Ratatoskr could sense what had happened.
"A binding pact, you stupid shit? You know that binds you through life AND death, right?"
"I assumed," he shrugged with a goofy grin if only to keep Ratatoskr from busting a blood vessel, if he had one. "It's okay Rat, Freyja…"
"It's FAR from okay! If I could slap you your head would be doing rotations! Just when you and Rossweisse were sleeping in the same bed! I REFUSE to let my hard work to go to waste before you two start your nightly press exercises!"
"Iggy and I are thinking of something," Dorian assured. "You of all people should know there is a loophole to everything."
"And I'll find that, you sit tight cause we and the ladies are busting you out the legal way. We'll have our Baldur pie AND eat it too…wait."
Dorian let out a chuckle at the squirrel's awkward choice of words, getting to his feet having felt he'd had enough rest.
"You know, I can't go out," Dorian started after contemplating the specifics of his incarceration. "If you can, could you deliver a few messages?"
"A request for conjugal visits from the team?" Dorian nearly doubled over with a laugh again. "Magazine of the adult persuasion? A mug of prune juice? Doubt they got that here. I can drop them to you, you never have to step in…just open the door."
"Maybe if I get desperate enough," he joked wishing he could see his friend's face. "First, please tell Rose that I am sorry…but I WILL be coming back. Tell her to bet on that! Aside from that, I met someone here that they might be interested in knowing about…"
Asgard Cells…
"They still hold?" Rossweisse asked as they entered the imposing darkened chamber filled with guards. Bennia and Hecuba had accompanied her being led by the remaining sons of Odin.
"Tighter than any lover's truest embrace honorable Valkyrie," Thor assured her, eliciting a blush to her cheeks at the comparison. "Long had I heard of the skill of Gondul's heir, but to seal our Blood-Uncle so totally is an impressive feat indeed!"
"If there is any who can force Hela to bargain, it is he," Vidar confirmed. His usual playful aloofness replaced with focus and purpose.
Within the center of the hold chamber resided Loki himself, clothes still tattered and torn from the conflict. Seals of holding gripped him tightly at each limb with a grand sign of which Rossweisse still held pride for constructing at the torso. A smaller rune encircled his face, holding it in a downward direction perpetually facing the floor. The area around his eyes retained the burn scars courtesy of the hydra's poison.
"Lift that one," Thor requested, loosening the true Mjolnir from his belt in preparation for any machinations he may try to use the situation for.
Holding up her arms, magic seals glowed within each palm projected towards the defeated god. The rune restricting movement above the neck shimmered out of existence, allowing Loki to raise his head, grinning wickedly at the collected visitors.
"Ah, young nephews," he sneered to the pair of gods before turning to the others. "I did not expect to see you in the presence of such trash."
"THAT familial status is revoked," Thor pressed Mjolnir up to his face. "If you do not wish to taste the TRUE Mjolnir, I suggest you hold thy tongue until commanded to speak!"
"Now, now brother," Vidar replied in an overly calming tone clearly doing little to try and convince Thor from his threats. "I am sure he meant no insult. After all, his little deception with our little brother failed utterly," he was more than a little disappointed when the statement did not wipe the smile from Loki's lips. "Young Baldur is already up and about; he'll be sure to stop by and say hello."
"A pointless ruse," he retorted smugly. "His fate is sealed."
""Seals are precisely our reason for coming here," he motioned back to Rossweisse. "That aforementioned 'trash' you love to call her is the reason you can't itch your nose without an official request. If you help us get what we want, we may be inclined to loosen a few of them."
"I thought your dear brother was safe, what could you possibly need from me?"
"To make a command of your daughter," Loki's face became flat for a moment as if he did not know how to respond. "She has something of ours and we want it back. You and she may not be on the best of terms, but you have a way with words."
Rossweisse tilted her chin up, maintaining her outward confident appearance as Bennia and Hecuba stared hatefully at the Jotun-Aesir. Loki did not say a word, the group glancing between each other confused as the awkward silence continued.
"It's your best chance after that botched mess you called a plan failed," Vidar continued on. "I mean if you planned on destroying the world how did you plan on surviving Ragnarok? Last I checked you were part of the world. Do this for us and you're one step closer to redemption or at the very least not living out your existence in paralyzed utter blackness."
Loki's expression had gone completely flat as if he had not a care in the world for the insults being hurled his way. Thor took a step closer, pressing Mjolnir into his cheek hard.
"Answer him traitor!" He bellowed, winding up as a crackle of energy sparked from his weapon. "Do not think our years serving side by side will save thee. You WILL converse with your daughter and…!"
"Wait!" The commanding voice of Hecuba caused the room of gods to silence. Eyes locked upon Loki, she walked forward past the interrogators.
"Little lady, please let us handle him," he tried to convince her. "You don't have to face him, not after what he did to you."
"I'm not sure I am," she muttered while advancing on him cautiously. "I remember him, that cold crawling feeling like bugs inside me when he was controlling me with the dagger. I could sense his conniving, slithering thoughts…but right now, I'm can't!"
With a harsh outreach, she seized the restrained deity by the chin, looking deep into his amber eyes. The Spartan of Olympus focused harshly, squeezing her hand tighter upon noticing the orbs looked every so paler than usual.
"Something isn't right," she finally released his head harshly. "Who are you?"
"What?" Vidar looked down at his former uncle. "This IS Loki, the same sealed upon the battle."
"Such pathetic fools…"
"Shut up!" Thor threatened. "What are you saying my lady?"
"You aren't him, you can't be," she vented towards their prisoner. "That overwhelming presence, even a fragment through the dagger, it's not here. You are a monster, but your mind was brimming…no, it was brilliant! Look at you now, you can barely look at us!"
Loki silently smiled back as if proving her point.
"He could be just toying with us, though he does seem more…simple than I recall," Vidar had to admit.
"Um, guys?" Bennia raised a finger ignored amid their heated debate.
"He couldn't have swapped out!" Thor assured them. "The Maiden Rossweisse's seals have not weakened. This IS Loki."
"Everyone, I think I…"
"He is messing with your heads," Thor was certain. "A few swings of Mjolnir and I am certain he will show his true colors once more!"
"Oh, for the love of…" Bennia grumbled, finally walking through the pair going back and forth. Without warning, she drew forth the grand scythe from the confines of her robe. The entire room dropped to utter silence as she nonchalantly slashed it across Loki's neck.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DO…!?" Vidar started before pausing at what occurred.
A thin white wisp barley a puff of smoke clung to her blade, the weapon leaving no physical wound. It was known that Grim Reapers could reap souls with a slice, yet the young woman could not possibly hold the power to rip out the essence of a god. Loki had slumped forward lifeless with her slash, no further sign of movement or stirrings of activity from his sealed body.
And even if she could, Vidar realized. A god's soul wouldn't look like that, something so…frail.
"Ah, yep, there's your problem," Bennia explained with a touch of cheeky pride finally being the center of attention, analyzing the wisp. "A faux-soul, nasty little bugger, you had good eyes Hecuba. It can imitate a real one and run the body on autopilot for potentially years."
"How could this have been missed?" Rossweisse asked, knowing that once her seals were fully realized that not even his soul should have been able to escape.
"We have never heard of this…faux-soul," Vidar mused while Thor poked curiously at Loki's unmoving body, lifting his head over and over before releasing for it to slump forward once again. "An Olympian invention?"
"I don't know about that," the growing reaper admitted with a shrug. "But we used them often enough. If a soul was particularly restless in Elysium or Tartarus, they'd be punished with having it ripped out of their body and forced to watch the faux one move without their input. They are dumb as rocks though, won't know how to react to a situation unless pre-programmed. It's that lifeless quality to the eyes, I wouldn't have thought to look closer if Hecuba hadn't said anything, very subtle."
"So that is why his gaze became so blank when we mentioned Hela," Hecuba realized. "He couldn't possibly have theorized we would bring her up."
"Bingo, he probably put a piece of his essence into it to fool everyone and make it show off a bit of his personality."
Similar to what Despoina did to Dorian at Olympus, Rossweisse mused though did not voice her concern. What options are left if we cannot force Loki to bargain for his soul back?
"But," Hecuba pointed out the obvious first. "If this is the body but his soul isn't here…where is it?"
Loki has slipped past his jailers in spirit if not body. Dorian serves among the dead in Helheim as he and his friends seek a way out. Baldur's recovery proceeds as machinations close in around our heroes. Until next time I hope everyone Reads and Reviews...but most of all Enjoys! :D