It is difficult beyond reason to say good-bye forever to something or someone whom you have known for all of your days until then. If forced to leave everything (country, home, people, family, friends, etc.), most people revert to culture-shock that can last for years. To lose someone to death is a little easier some argue. To lose someone to war is tragic as all thought. Good-byes are hard, but then again, so are hellos.
Three weeks after the arrival of Astrid, Dagmar, and Gunnhild, Loki's army of giants and monsters swarms outside the Bifrost on the plain of Vigrid. The World Tree is slowly toppling down because of worms eating away its roots. The prophecies were wrong in only one point: the time.
"It isn't exactly our fault, you know," Urd, the Norn of past says to the Norse deities. "We tried our best; Loki is too persistant for fate."
"Urd is right. The worlds will be born again, but few of you will survive," Skuld, the Norn of the future adds.
"We have to do what we can now to save what portents of the worlds we can. We must destroy the evil of the worlds before we can mourn over the loss of the good," Verdani, the Norn of the present states, hoping to raise their poor spirits. "None of us could guess that he would begin his assault so soon."
On twoards midday, Astrid is given a new sword. It has two short blood grooves in it; one near the point and one near the hild. Written in runes on the hilt is the word "Asraynor," divine champion. The hild is shaped like two sets of golden wings in a rather geometric manner. The handle is iron and crafted into the shape of nine roots for the World Tree.
"Will it be long?" Astrid asks the air after she returns to her room in Odin's halls. She stares out and looks to the plain of Vigrid.
"Lord Odin wishes us to cross Bifrost after the gods," Ingegerd replies as she leans against the door frame.
"Why did this have to happen?"
"Because Loki thinks he's funny. That scatter-brained twit has less common sense than one would expect of a god."
"Hmm..." Astrid merely nods.
Gunnhild is returning from the kitchens with the three children. Dagmar is strapped in a bit of a sling to her stomach. She wonders what is taking so long for the gods to begin their attacks. The longer they wait, the longer the worlds will remain plunged in darkness.
"Gunnhild!" Lady Freya calls down the hall after the dragon. "Gunnhild!" She is dressed similarly to a Valkyrie, but she also has a helmet, shield, and mostly gold armor. Her cape is black and green.
Gunnhild stops and flutters to the ground. *Go along ahead of me,* she projects to the boys. They do so. *My Lady Freya.*
"I wanted to say good-bye. Take care of Lady Astrid, won't you?"
*I will.*
"I want you to have something," the goddess says, taking a necklace from about her neck. "It's Astrid's wedding ring."
*I can't take that. It is my Lady Astrid's. You should give it to her.*
"Yes, but will you give it to her for me?"
*I will, however, Dagmar should keep it so that I don't lose it.*
Freya nods, placing the necklace over Dagmar's head. "Thank you."
*Be careful, m'lady.*
"You too. Grow well, Lady Gunnhild." Freya then hurries off down the hall in the opposite direction, unable to bring herself to say good-bye.
*Lady Gunnhild?* the dragon muses, setting off at a gentle glide after the boys. She then chirps a chuckle. *Good-bye, Lady Freya. Blessed speed and best of luck!* she projects broadly before flying quickly but gently to catch up with the boys.
The halls of the gods of Asgard lay empty. Heimdall, the gatekeeper of Bifrost, has blown his horn to signal the coming of the end. The Valkyries are disposing of the weaker gints as the gods fight to the death with the greater ones. Slowly, one by one, the gods and the warriors begin to fall.
Ingegerd fights off many other creatures of Loki's forces that think the six noncombatants look worthy to kill. Blood and carnage is everywhere, as is its sickeningly sweet smell. Valkyries scream through the air, aiding the gods. Some fall, lifeless, to the ground after being struck by the giants. Soon, all the Valkyries, save Astrid and Ingegerd (both of whom wear their mantles atop their capes), are obliterated.
Odin notes this deficiency as he battles with Fenrir. Tyr, the bravest of all, is losing a battle with a giant dog named Garm. Freya is fighting well but watches her brother, Freyr, be the first to die. Sighing, Lord Odin knows what he must do.
"Lady Astrid! Go and prosper!" he calls, fighting desperately against Fenrir.
Astrid bows, drawing Asraynor. "Farewell, my Lord," she says, kneeling. She holds the blade up to the sky, and it begins to raidiate brilliant beams of light that pierce the darkness. A wind pulls off her swan-feather mantle and toussles her hair. Despite everyone's efforts, Denby hurries after the mantle.
The light does not wait. It is soft and white and envelopes the others. Asraynor begins to crack along its mighty blade. Denby is hurrying back to the others with the mantle when a giant loses his grip on a Valkyrie's spear. The spear pierces Denby through his heart.
An agonizing keen shreads the din of war. Havelock runs to the side of his fread, tears falling from his eyes. He stops screaming to wrench the spear from his companion's body. He lays Denby on the ground, weeping over the corpse. A tongue of flame leaps to the ground, and the earth begins to tremble.
*Havelock! We have to go!* Gunnhild exclaims over the sound of the rumbling earth as she pulls on the boy's shirtneck.
"I - I won't leave him!" Havelock replies, stammering.
*Come on! Denby wouldn't want you to die, and Lady Astrid promised your ma she'd watch out for you!* A mass of flame now lights the horizon.
"Lady Astrid never knew my mother. Never knew our mother," Havelock says quietly.
*What?*
Havelock kisses Denby's forehead and shakes his head. He grabs the swan-feather mantel and then follows Gunnhild into the field of light. Suddenly, the blade of Asraynor shatters, its shards flying to the ground, and the pool of light and the five travellers within vanish.
The time that follows Ragnarok is, for Gunnhild, immeasureable. For a long time, she is only aware of herself. Even Dagmar, who is strapped to her chest, seems surreal. Perhaps it is the sudden light followed by the sudden darkness that throws her off. Perhaps it is the knowledge that everything she ever knew is changing. She doesn't realize that it is because she has been forced through a spacial-temporal rift and such feelings of detatchment are normal the first time through. After such times, it becomes difficult to tell when one has 'slipped' through a rift.
What greets Gunnhild on the other side, however, is beyond thought. Trees taller than the spires of the highest of Asgard's buildings are everywhere in a well-tended, primeval forest. Moss and lichenous growth abound. Eyes, many of them, are everywhere. Her fellows, however, are aslepp. All are safe except Denby. Nothing could have been done about him.
Curling protectively over Dagmar, Gunnhild, too, sleeps. The journey between worlds had been exhausting.
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