Created
May 23, 2014 05:55
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efore the three of us approached Thor, the so-called god of thunder and Mythic Norden’s | |
mightiest warrior. He rode in his chariot down from atop the crackling clouds, his eyes | |
fixed on us as he grew ever closer. Between him and us was a host of einherjar, warriors long | |
dead and favored by the gods to live forever as the their foot soldiers. | |
I would pity them, if they weren’t abominations. | |
Thousands of feet rushing at us rivaled sounds of thunder. My young comrade Beatrice | |
sprinted ahead to meet them, her horse whining and neighing. As she leapt in the air, Beatrice | |
grabbed the horse’s neck and flipped herself over, arcing the beast over her body like a war | |
hammer. When they landed, her steed broke the dead army’s formation and shook the very | |
earth beneath us all. The land cracked, making a spider’s web of chasms, with her at the center. | |
Some of the einherjar fell to their final death. A good start. | |
“Cute,” Rashid chuckled, and he sauntered toward the horde. His hands were ablaze. He | |
raised them in the air, as though he was pushing up an immense weight. The earth, weakened | |
by Beatrice’s blow, cracked around the battlefield. The hot blood of the world spewed forth | |
from the hot bowels below. Rashid weaved his hands about, and the geysers of molten death | |
did his bidding, pouring all over the undead fools and spraying Thor’s massive demon-goats. | |
The goats reared up. Thor shouted in pain, for he could feel every blow we made against his | |
thralls. Light burst from his mouth and filled the sky with lightning, that then came down to | |
earth and shot through us all. Rashid and I were knocked back. Beatrice stood her ground. | |
I got up on one knee and wiped my brow. Blood. I laughed as I summoned my Book. | |
The giant Tome of Life and Death hovered before me and flipped open to a blank page. I used | |
my own blood to write “On this day, the Myth of Thor was no more.” | |
The god of thunder coughed blood and godly bile as he fell from his chariot in the sky. The | |
moment was still. | |
Then he got up and charged us, wielding his legendary hammer. | |
Let this futile charge come, oh warrior of Norden. When the skalds sing of your Ending, this will | |
only make the song grander, motherfucker. |
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