The images flooding Thrúd's mind vanished almost as quickly as they arrived, each scene feeling as if she had lived them herself.

At the moment, sight and sound were the only things she was able to process. After Grámtrist fatally stabbed his sword through Mjolnir, everything around them exploded in a white flash, forcing him to release his grip on her and sending them flying away from each other.

She was lying face down in the sand but was too stunned to feel even a single grain. The brightness had lessened, but only enough to allow her to squint if she wanted to see anything. A constant scream echoed through the desert, making Thrúd's shoulders hunch, disturbed by the sound.

Somehow finding the strength to raise her head more than a few inches off the ground, Thrúd looked up and found Mjolnir, still intact but only barely so. It was hovering five feet in the air on its own, vibrating and humming on its own volition. Cracks were present on Mjolnir's body, allowing light to seep out of it, just like it did in Sindri's kiln.

Lightning arced from it randomly, either striking the ground in an explosion of sand or harmlessly in the sky. Besides the light spilling through the cracks (which were growing bigger as it vibrated uncontrollably), it also seemed to be glowing on its own, creating a halo of light around it, making the hammer completely standout amidst the still-present sandstorm.

But the screaming was still audible above the ensuing chaos. Thrúd wished the sound was at least slightly absorbed by the storm, but if anything, it overpowered it. She wouldn't be surprised if all of the Elves in Alfheim could hear it like Sinmara's wailing in Niflheim.

There was only one difference between the two: Sinmara was crying out due to heartbreak. This was a scream of complete suffering and agony, and Thrúd now knew who was behind it.

Embla was in horrible pain, her soul suffering as her home wrenched itself apart from the inside until the hammer blasted itself to oblivion.

Thrúd would be damned if she was going to sit by and just let that happen.

Hardening her resolve, Thrúd pushed herself to her feet. Her balance faltered as she felt herself pushed back from the invisible energy that Mjolnir was releasing. She leaned into it as if she were fighting the strong current of a river, one hand out in front of her to block the blinding light and the other shielding her eyes to avoid sand being blown into them.

Each step taken was a trial. She had risen to her feet a whole minute ago but only managed five steps, barely closing the gap between her and the hammer. If she were honest with herself, Thrúd had no clue what to do once she was close enough to Mjolnir. She was no blacksmith, and even if she were, she had no tools handy to help repair it.

All she knew was that she had to get to it. Fast.

She trudged on, fighting the gale-force winds of the sandstorm as well as the concussive pulses Mjolnir released. The cracks along its face grew, allowing the pieces they carved out to stretch farther apart from each other like a small tunic that was popping at the seams as it stretched.

Thrúd grunted as she fought her way forward, frustrated with the amount of sand she found caught between her teeth despite her best efforts to keep her lips sealed. Every so often, lightning struck at her feet, either splashing more sand in her face or dispersing it into the storm.

One stray bolt zapped at her feet, shifting the sand underneath her. Losing her balance, Thrúd overcorrected and felt herself pushed back. Her feet swept out from underneath, she was blown backwards several tens of yards before sliding to a stop. She immediately rose to her knees and pounded the ground in frustration, cursing as she did.

As soon as she let her curses out of her system, Embla's wails of pain reminded her that someone was suffering more than she was at the moment. With that in mind, Thrúd dusted herself off, rose to her feet and tried again.

She didn't so much as make it halfway there before another stray gust of wind blew her backwards again. Her hair was even more disheveled than when she started, the onslaught of sand and wind kept her eyes barely open at all, and the cracks on Mjolnir were visibly larger, allowing more light to pour out of it.

She was running out of time. Fast.

After yet another setback where she was blown away and rolled on the ground, Thrúd flinched as a large hand gripped her shoulder and lifted her to her feet. Peeking behind her, she saw Grámtrist, propping her up with both hands, helping her keep balance.

He looked like a complete wreck.

His once shiny and durable armor was all but gone, revealing his surprisingly frail frame underneath. What little was left of his armor was scorched and dented beyond use. Where his breastplate used to be was only now a modest tunic, its colors and pattern faded. His helmet was gone, revealing a face that she recognized from the visions that Mjolnir showed her, but only just barely.

Were she able to rewind time, she could see how this was the same handsome explorer that Odin created to populate Midgard, but it was hard to tell that that's who he used to be now. His features were lifeless and gray, accentuated by sunken eye sockets and hollow cheeks.

Like Thrúd, he was forced to keep his eyes squinting too. But even through half-shut eyelids, Thrúd could see the sadness they hid.

Thrúd blinked several times, only now fully comprehending who was standing behind her. "Gr-" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "Ask?"

Ask blinked in surprise. He looked over at the hammer before looking down at Thrúd. "The Light spoke to you too." It wasn't a question.

"What do you mean spoke to . . . wait," she said, raising her voice enough to be heard over the wind. "What did it show you?"

He looked pensive for a moment, wondering how to best describe it.

"The truth," he said plainly.

Before Thrúd could request elaboration, Embla's screams grew louder. Ask's expression saddened even more. He closed his eyes and turned away, unable to look at the hammer for the moment. "There's only one hope for her now."

Thrúd looked behind her as he drew his sword, which miraculously looked undamaged. More than likely due to the enchantment on it taking the brunt of the explosion.

Her eyes widened in shock. "No! There has to be something else we can do!" She insisted. "We can find a way to save her without-"

"You must kill me." He interrupted, effectively stunning her to silence.

Rather than explain his reasoning, he reached down and produced another whetstone. Another white one. He scraped it along his blade, engulfing it in a familiar ethereal glow. Tossing the whetstone behind him, he handed the blade to Thrúd. She held onto the handle with both hands and allowed the massive blade to fall to the ground.

"Wait, I don't get it." She started. "What will you-"

"There's no time to explain. But please, do as I ask," he pleaded. "I'll go ahead of you and get close to her. I'll do everything I can to buy us time." He found the strength to look back at Mjolnir. The hammer that housed his wife for countless lifetimes. Since that day in Vanaheim, he had dreamed of seeing it destroyed and letting Embla go free. But now that it was here, all he could think of was how half of his entire existence felt misspent.

He squeezed Thrúd's shoulders. "Thank you," he said. "For protecting Embla. I know you didn't do it for her. But she'd be dead now if it weren't for you."

Without waiting for any sort of reply, he let go of her and walked ahead. Due to his larger stature, he was able to endure the winds, though not without effort. He assumed a similar stance to hers: hands in front to shield his face and leaning his body forward to fight against it. Thrúd was almost envious of how much quicker he made it to Mjolnir compared to her, but she knew better than to think too much of it at the moment.

Before long, he reached the hammer. He positioned himself behind it so his frontside was facing Thrúd. Raising both arms, he wrapped them around Mjolnir, pulling the fractured pieces together. Even from this far away, Thrúd could see the amount of effort it was taking him to keep his hold on it.

Having no other alternative in mind, Thrúd followed suit with Ask's instructions and began trudging her way forward yet again.

Hoisting the blade over her shoulder with one arm, Thrúd once again held out her other to block the sand. She was thankful for Ask's contribution, as his embrace blocked out a good portion of the Light, eliminating one other obstacle.

Using the additional weight to her advantage, Thrúd found keeping herself grounded far easier than before, but walking with the giant sword was still physically taxing. The closer she got to her destination, the more she could see Ask's struggle. Lightning was striking him point blank all over his body and the wind threatened to tear his arms out of his sockets, but he persevered.

"Hurry!" He pleaded. "I can't hold it much longer!"

Thrúd obliged as best as she could, leaning farther into the winds and willing her feet to move faster.

The closer she got to the hammer, the more she felt the familiar pounding of the wind coming from it pushing her backwards. Before it could hinder her progress any more than it already has, Thrúd stabbed the blade into the sandy surface, anchoring herself in place.

Using this moment to regain her balance, Thrúd pulled herself closer and gripped the handle tighter. She raised it out of the sand and stabbed it into the sand ahead of her again before pulling herself farther forward still. She repeated this process as fast as she could, doing her best not to loosen her grip on the handle despite the blisters she could already feel forming.

Lightning escaped from his clutches on the hammer, striking the ground near her. Without her wielding its power, there was no telling what the lightning would do to her if it struck.

Rather than find out, Thrúd swung the sword in front of her, pointing the tip straight at Mjolnir.

Another arc of lightning escaped, but it guided itself to the enchanted blade, striking it rather than its user. The electricity arced and sparked its way down the blade until it engulfed Thrúd, making its way down to her legs. More lightning sparked out of the hammer despite Ask's stubborn intervention, but Thrúd was thankful for it as each bolt hit the blade, gifting her with strength and resolve the closer she got to it.

For his part, Ask was doing everything he could. He hugged his wife tight, heartbroken by the sounds of her screams but hopeful that it would be over soon. The effort of his trial kept his eyes closed, but once he saw the image before him, there was no way he could look away.

The girl he had been hounding for the past several days inched her way forward, his sword in hand. With each arc of lightning that reached her, she took it and wore it as if it were a suit of armor. His arms almost let go of Mjolnir as he looked at her in awe.

Before long, tendrils of lightning protruded from her back, forming together and taking shape abstractly. He wasn't sure if she was even able to tell since her eyes were locked ahead of her, but behind her, the lightning began to look like wings of a colossal span, elegant and threatening like a falcon's.

They moved seemingly on their own, flapping like a Valkyrie and pushing her farther forward. If she noticed those additional pushes, she showed no signs of it.

Before either of them knew it, Thrúd was right in front of him, doused in lightning and holding the sword as if it weighed nothing at all. She made eye contact with him, her eyes curious and uncertain. Hearing what wasn't being said, he nodded. "Please," he said loud enough for her to barely hear.

Thrúd nodded. Rearing both hands behind her, she thrusted the blade forward and plunged it into Ask's exposed abdomen.

She was almost afraid that the pain would cause his arms to release Mjolnir, but if anything, he held it even tighter. His eyes were clamped shut and his teeth grit in a physical endeavor to endure the pain. Thrúd pressed the sword farther inside, not wanting the sword to fall out in the event of her being blown backwards.

Thankfully, that never happened. Her eyes widened in wonder and shock as the shimmering white enchantment from the blade traveled from it to Ask's body. The shimmering made its way up his torso and wrapped around both arms, engulfing Mjolnir in a soothing glow that softened the winds that were escaping from inside of it.

Embla's screams began to fade away, as if a medic had given her a sedative and she began to drift into unconsciousness. Thrúd's hair settled down on her back and her skirts settled at her hips as the last of the winds vanished, the howling mercifully disappearing with it. The sands being blown about began to settle, falling all around them and settling into their new homes across the desert floor.

But what Thrúd had her eyes on the most was Mjolnir.

Its fractured pieces melded together as the white glow did its job, assisted by Ask's never-faltering grip. The glow began to dim until the only light coming out of the hammer was the glow of the markings, pulsing at the rate of a heartbeat.

Thrúd had all but forgotten that she still had her grip on the massive sword. She was only reminded as she began to feel it being pulled away from her. Letting out an involuntary squeak of surprise, Thrúd watched as Ask's body began to go slack, his legs giving out from underneath him and sending his body plummeting backwards and landing with a thump on the sand, his arms still wrapped around Mjolnir.

She stood frozen for a few moments as if waiting for his body to begin to move again despite knowing that wouldn't be the case. Snapping herself out of her reverie, she willed her feet to move, walking over to his side and kneeling down to look at him.

No longer was his face contorted in pain, no more were his eyes filled with sadness and suffering. He looked like a man resting after coming home from a long journey. Reaching out, Thrúd unwound his arms from Mjolnir, revealing the repaired hammer. Thrúd let out a breath of amazement as she found not even the smallest blemish on it. Any signs of stress or damage it had taken over the course of their battle was completely gone.

Thrúd took the hammer from his chest, holding it up to inspect it from all sides. A small series of laughs escaped her lungs, unable to think of what else she could do in this event. The pulsing of Mjolnir's light continued at the same pace, illuminating the immediate area for brief moments of time until Thrúd noticed another source of light from the side.

Just as it was in the vision that Mjolnir showed her, four tiny beads of light escaped from Ask's lifeless lips. They floated up and down as if underwater, searching for the closest route to the Light of Alfheim.

Thrúd gasped and her eyes shot wide open in sudden understanding.

The four tiny whisps floated upward, ready to make the trek to the temple Thrúd was just at, but she expedited the journey. Holding Mjolnir up, she put the hammer in between the soul fragments and their destination, hoping that this would work.

She was delighted to see the four whisps disappear into Mjolnir without any issue.

Mjolnir grew even brighter, its pulsing replaced with a calming glow, warm and comforting like a campfire. Even from her grip on the handle, she could feel the changes inside it. She could feel the link to Yggdrasil strengthen, the stone face of the hammer bonding together even stronger than before.

But most of all, she felt a vicarious sense of joy flood throughout her system as the Giants' words returned to her ears:

"May your souls shine together in harmony in the Light of Alfheim," she repeated their blessing before letting out another disbelieving laugh, unsure of what to think about her being used as a pawn in a prophecy. "Those clever fuckers."

Before long, the light inside Mjolnir began to fade until she was shrouded in the darkness of the desert. The storm had officially died down, blessing her with silence and reprieve. She wasn't sure how long she was kneeling in the sand, but she was content enough to continue to do so for a few more peaceful hours had a thought not popped into her head right at that moment.

Rising to her feet, Thrúd placed Mjolnir back at her hip, preparing to tend to Ask's body.

Thrúd grabbed the sword and dug it out of his abdomen with an unsavory squelching noise. Being careful to not cut herself, Thrúd laid the blade down on top of him with the handle on his chest and the tip going past his feet, folding his hands over the handle.

Stepping back to view her handiwork, Thrúd grabbed Mjolnir and held it up as if offering it a view of it.

"Not gonna win any presentation awards, but I think it's good enough for what it is. What do you think?" In response, she could feel a slight vibration go through the hammer. Unsure of how to interpret it, she decided to take it as a sign of confirmation. She began to wonder if Embla had been communicating with her all this time as well and never noticed.

Or even if her dad noticed.

She remembered the times her dad whispered to Mjolnir, but he wasn't aware of Embla's soul residing inside . . . was he?

Shaking off that uncertainty, Thrúd shrugged her shoulder, summoning her tattooed passenger. Hugin appeared and fluttered his way onto Thrúd's outstretched arm. The raven twitched his head this way and that, seeing Ask's lifeless body.

He looked back at Thrúd. "So. He's in there now?" The bird asked, gesturing his beak towards the hammer.

"Yup," Thrúd confirmed.

"With his wife." Hugin continued.

"I don't know if they were ever fully considered husband and wife to begin with. But either way, the answer is still yes." Thrúd let out a small snort of amusement. "I honestly wasn't sure if that was going to work."

Hugin was silent for a moment, his eyes locked on Mjolnir. "Think they're getting it on right now?"

"HUGIN!"

"What?" He asked as if he hadn't just asked something obscenely offensive one second ago. "It's a completely reasonable question. Gotta start up making up for lost time sometime." Thrúd shook him off her arm. He flapped his wings and lowered himself to the sandy ground. "And besides, what better place to get nailed than inside a hammer, huh?"

"You are disgusting," Thrúd said. "And besides, I already made that joke."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. You just weren't there to hear it." Thrúd shook her head, getting her thoughts back on track. "Never mind. They're both finally happy, and that's all that matters."

Hugin motioned to the body behind him. "And what about this bulky thing? You're not just planning on leaving it here, are you? That's pretty low."

"That's why I called you out," Thrúd informed him. "I need you to send a message for me, if you don't mind."

"I doubt whether or not I mind really matters, does it?"

"Just hear what it is first before you get all defensive about it?"

Hugin obliged and was surprised by her request.

Without another comment, Hugin set off into the night, disappearing once again on his errand, leaving Thrúd to her side of business. She just wasn't looking forward to searching for several needles in an impossibly large haystack.

. . .

The hours blended together during her search for the scattered whetstones. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea to separate Ask from his tools. But in light of recent events, she didn't think it the wisest to leave them outside where anybody could pick them up.

Sure, they'd more than likely be smothered by the sands of the desert and lost forever, but after witnessing several times what they're capable of, Thrúd decided she wasn't willing to take that chance.

So, she searched. First, she retraced her most recent steps and found the first few with little issue, returning them to Ask's body. Then came the harder part: finding the rest that were scattered as she waited for Hugin to deliver her message.

What came after was a clumsy, frustration inducing system of digging, cursing, and only occasionally finding what she was looking for. Before long, she performed a headcount and deduced that all of them were present once again.

After bringing them all back, she allowed the fatigue to wash over her. Not only had she just been a part of the second largest battle of her life (rivaled only to the events of Ragnarok), but she had also witnessed an entire lifetime of memories in what was only a few short moments. Her body, unsure how to process it all, begged for rest.

She was only all too happy to oblige.

Dumping the whetstones into a sloppy pile next to Ask, Thrúd sunk to her knees and fell on her side. She stopped caring long ago about sand working its way into her clothes as she squirmed to allow her body to find an adequate enough position.

It seemed only ten seconds had passed after she closed her eyes that she was startled awake by the familiar fluttering of wings.

Shooting up to her feet in an instant, unconsciously summoning Mjolnir as she did, Thrúd yelled in surprise, hoping it sounded intimidating enough to whoever was disturbing her rest.

Her heart sank when she realized she had just roared in Sigrun's face.

Thrúd's jaw dropped in shock. Her grip on Mjolnir faltered until it dropped to the sands. She began to shake uncontrollably, though she wasn't sure what the cause of it was. "Si-S . . . Miss Sigrun!"

She couldn't tell behind the elegant mask and headdress, but Sigrun smiled in amusement.

Before Sigrun could say anything, Thrúd dropped down to one knee and bowed her head, her face disappearing in a curtain of red and orange. "Miss Sigrun," she tried again. "You honor me by accepting my request."

Sigrun failed to hold back a snort at the sight. Thrúd ignored it as best she could.

"Rise, Thrúd Thorsdottir. I can't talk to your hair."

Flinching at the comment, Thrúd shot back up to her feet.

The Valkyrie Queen was just as magnificent and dignified as ever. Her armor shined as if freshly polished, and her wings were regal and intimidating even when folded in. On her shoulder was Hugin, who was no doubt enjoying his view of his new boss making a fool of herself in front of one of her idols.

Snapping her fingers and gesturing to her shoulder, Thrúd silently commanded him to return. He flapped over and became a tattoo once again, giving them the privacy she wanted.

Thrúd cleared her throat. "Miss Sigrun. Thank you for arriving on such short notice. I, erm, I humbly ask for your assistance in-" she stopped short as she gestured behind her to display Ask's body and the whetstones and found them nowhere to be seen.

Twirling in a panicked frenzy, Thrúd searched for them breathlessly, unsure of how she could have managed to misplace them while she was sleeping.

"Don't worry, young one," Sigrun soothed, detecting the panic that was seizing her. "They are not missing. My sisters have retrieved them already," she explained. "The body of the Traveler was cremated with high honors and the whetstones are safe."

Thrúd stopped spinning, eyes wide in understanding. "Oh. Um . . . thank you. Very much."

"No Thrúd. Thank you."

The daughter of Thor visibly blanched. "Me? What for?" She regretted those words as soon as they left her mouth, but Sigrun showed no signs of offence.

"Tales of your exploits across the realms have reached my sisters and me. In an era of confusion and sorrow post-Ragnarok, hearing of your selflessness and heroic actions is a soothing song that deserves to be heard."

Thrúd was lost for words. Thankfully, she didn't have to contribute any as Sigrun continued.

"Your kindness in Niflheim has filled the realm with a peaceful atmosphere devoid of sorrow. Your heroic interference in Vanaheim has helped the ecosystem begin to right itself after the Einherjar's brief occupation." She paused. "Although, from what we were led to believe, your visit to Svartalfheim left much to be desired."

Thrúd blushed profusely, looking away from the Valkyrie Queen.

"But even that lapse in judgement is nothing compared to what you have accomplished and demonstrated this evening alone." She gestured to the empty spot where Ask once was lying. "Hugin informed Eir, Gunnr and I about your most recent trials. Not to worry," she comforted after she saw the look of shock and betrayal that came over Thrúd's face, "he was very clear on the details and gave you high praise."

Thrúd looked over her shoulder at the tattoo as if it would reply or deny Sigrun's claim. When he didn't, she looked back at Sigrun.

"You showed mercy, kindness and understanding to an enemy who was hunting you relentlessly once you learned of his plight. You saved the soul of an innocent from someone's harmful but well-meaning intentions. You defended the legacy of your lineage in the face of judgement and cruelty. Quite honestly, young one, I could continue, but the list is far too great." She inhaled deeply, reaching her point. "All of these examples are virtues that a Shield Maiden strives to practice and maintain."

At that last comment, Thrúd's eyes grew wide.

"Thrúd Thorsdottir, would you do the realms a great service by becom-"

"YES!" Thrúd yelled. Instantly after, she clamped her hands over her mouth and reddened even more. Removing her hands, she calmed down before trying again. "I- um, I mean, yes. I accept this gracious invitation."

Sigrun nodded. She was glad that she decided to withhold the information that she was already going to be invited to join their sisterhood even before hearing of her deeds. That knowledge alone probably would have made her faint.

"My sisters will be glad to hear this. With your hands wielding Mjolnir, there isn't a doubt in my mind that the realms will prosper. But for now," the giant woman closed the distance and rested her hand on Thrúd's shoulder.

"Rest," she said. "Consider this your first order. You've been through a great ordeal. That much is obvious. We will begin training in one week." She squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "I am excited to see what else you will accomplish in your future."

With that, Sigrun released her shoulder and walked away. She unfurled her wings and took off into the sky, kicking up sand underneath her.

Thrúd wasn't able to put into words how she was feeling right now, though she did agree with Sigrun's assessment: She needed to get some sleep, and sleeping on the sand wasn't going to do at all.

Thankfully, she knows of a place with its doors wide open to her arrival. And besides, she knows of two people who would enjoy some alone time in Vanaheim.