Bonds of the Fallen

As Val’s pain-laced screams reached her ears, Bat’s knees buckled, sending her crashing to the ground. Ace and Einar fought to restrain Val, while Bat found herself sprawled in the blood-soaked earth, the screeching battle and Val’s anguish churning around her. Her fingers curled into the damp soil as she summoned the name of the god she sought.

“Odin,” she whispered, the name slipping from her lips in a plea. “If you are truly there and can hear my prayer, please...”

Her voice faded, the doubt in her heart stifling her words. Her mind felt like a storm of emotions, thoughts crashing against one another in a thundering wave. But through the storm, she knew she had to find a way to save Val. She reached out with her senses, feeling the golden threads that connected her to everything in her world, including Val. She could feel them pulsate with energy, an intricate fate web that held them together.

Her focus homed in on these threads, and as she did, a peculiar sensation washed over her, a tidal wave of energy that filled her from head to toe. The threads came alive, guiding her, revealing her path. Bat opened her eyes, her vision blurred by the tears that had welled up, and beheld the golden threads now ablaze with a brilliant light.

She pressed her palms against the ground again, channeling her energy into the glowing threads. She could feel them respond, strengthening and pulsing with vitality. The radiant light began to expand, wrapping Val and the others in its comforting embrace. Slowly, Val’s screams dwindled to moans and finally to silence.

The very ground beneath her shifted and transformed. Once buried in the battlefield mire, her hands now rested upon the cool, smooth surface of an intricately decorated floor. Gold filigree wove its way through the glass beneath her hands. The discordant sounds of battle receded, replaced by the melodic strains of music.

Bat lifted her gaze, surrounded by a sea of golden skirts and pristine white shoes that twirled and swayed in time with the music. A grand ballroom spread out before her. The space was alive with masked individuals garbed in gold and white silks, graceful and fluid movements. The air shimmered with the glint of jewels and the crystal sparkle, all bathed in a radiant light pouring down from above.

A ripple of applause erupted as a tall, masked figure emerged from the crowd of dancers. The crowd parted to allow him passage. His mask concealed the upper half of his face, revealing only his lips and the chiseled line of his jaw. His light hair was swept back from his forehead, and his eyes, though hidden, gleamed with an inner amusement. As he approached, Bat could feel the intensity of his gaze upon her. She made to rise but found herself unable to do so as if invisible roots tethered her to the spot. The mysterious man extended a hand towards her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Welcome, my dear. You seem to have strayed quite far from your path,” Odin greeted, his voice as rich and smooth as honey, wrapping around her.

Bat regained her footing, brushing the dirt from her palms as she took stock of her surroundings. “Where... where am I?” she asked, her voice coming out as a hushed whisper.

The man chuckled, a low, melodic sound that resonated in the air around them. “You find yourself in my domain, a realm beyond the mortal coil. Fear not, my dear, for you are under my protection here.”

A shiver slithered down Bat’s spine, and she lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes narrowing in confusion and suspicion. “And who might you be?” she inquired, her tone steady and relentless.

His smile widened, revealing a set of perfect teeth. “Countless names have known me throughout the eons, but you, my dear, may address me as Odin,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken mirth.

His hand remained outstretched towards her, an invitation hanging between them. “Do not fear, for I have summoned you here with a purpose in mind,” he assured her gently, his tone commanding.

Bat remained kneeling in the center of the grand ballroom, her armor stained with battle remnants. She found herself at a loss, her mind whirling with the revelation of his identity.

“It is not every day that one of the Norns seeks me out in prayer. And for Skuld herself to do so is indeed a rare occurrence,” he mused, bending at the waist to extend his hand towards her in a gesture of assistance.

For a moment, Bat hesitated before placing her hand in his, feeling a surge of energy cascade through her body the moment their skin touched. She instinctively tried to retract her hand, but Odin’s grip was firm, unyielding.

“Now, there is no need for such resistance,” he chided gently, surveying her from head to toe with a critical eye. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then, with a snap of his fingers, declared, “Much better.”

Bat’s gaze dropped to find the steel and leather of her battle gear had transformed into a luxurious gown of crimson silk. The backless dress dipped daringly low, hugging her every curve as the silky fabric whispered against her skin, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable amidst the grandeur of the ballroom.

All around her, the room was alive with the swirl of colors as elegantly dressed figures danced and twirled. Others lounged at ornate tables, indulging in an array of sumptuous foods – apples and goat cheese, roasted duck, and more. Large vessels brimming with mead and wine invited everyone to partake freely in their contents.

Lifting her eyes, Bat locked gazes with Odin, the very god to whom Val and the Vampir had pledged their service. His hand extended to her invitingly, beckoning her to join him in the dance.

For a moment, it was as if her body had a mind of its own, her hand finding its way into his as she was swept into the rhythm of the dance. She was surrounded by other dancers whose movements flowed seamlessly together. The fluid grace of their forms starkly contrasted with the battlefield she had just left.

Odin’s hand was solid and assured as he led her across the polished floor, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. The power that emanated from him was suffocating as the full force of it wrapped around her. The music swelled, reaching a crescendo that pulsed in her veins as Odin spun her around, pulling her in closer to him. His hand slid down her back, and she couldn’t suppress the shiver rippling at his touch.

The music stopped.

“Relax, my dear,” Odin whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “I have something to show you.”

With a wave of his hand, the floor beneath them dissolved, revealing the chaotic scene of the battlefield below. Bat could feel the weight of the ongoing battle, the cries of the wounded, and the clash of steel filling her senses. Val’s agonized screams echoed in her ears. Above them, the gods were reveling in the carnage, watching with gleeful amusement as the Harii and the followers slaughtered each other. They placed bets, their laughter ringing out over the battle cries. The gods were detached, uncaring of the suffering and death that unfolded before them. This was their idea of entertainment.

The opulence of the ballroom, with its majestic display of wealth and power, contrasted with the chaos and devastation below. Surrounded by revelers engrossed in their indulgence, Bat’s anger reached a boiling point. The excess before her, the clinking of glasses and peals of laughter, felt like a slap in the face, drowning out the sounds of clashing swords and cries of pain that she knew were continuing unabated below. Her jaw clenched, and her hands curled into fists at her sides, fueled further by the sheer arrogance and indifference of the people around her. She yearned to be back on the battlefield, fighting with her people, instead of being trapped in this elaborate, distasteful spectacle.

“You need to stop this,” she implored fiercely, her voice steady. “People are dying.”

Odin responded with a lazy drawl, “I know. Ever since the treaty, things have been dreadfully boring around here. We used to find our amusement in other ways, but after a while, the same old dramas unfold repeatedly, becoming nothing more than tawdry spectacles.”

Panic surged within Bat as she struggled against Odin’s ironclad grasp. “Stop!” she shouted, her heart hammering in her chest.

But Odin only tightened his hold, drawing her in closer to him. The whispers and murmurs of the other guests grew louder though none dared to intervene. Fear hung in the air like a thick fog, and for a moment, Bat felt the weight of their judging eyes, making her feel small and helpless.

Then, something within her shifted, a spark ignited, and a fierce determination replaced the fear that had momentarily paralyzed her. Gritting her teeth, she summoned all her strength and pushed against Odin’s chest. Her effort paid off as she felt his grip loosen, and she stumbled back, her crimson gown billowing around her as the gasps and whispers of the guests filled the air.

Straightening up, Bat met Odin’s gaze with a defiant glint in her eyes, a silent challenge hanging between them. The room was tense as the other guests watched, frozen in place, unsure how to react. And for a brief, suspended moment, the ballroom fell silent, punctuated only by the sound of Bat’s labored breaths.

“It would be such a pity to bring tonight’s revelry to an end,” Odin declared, his penetrating gaze locking onto hers. “Surely you, of all people, understand the fleeting and trivial nature of mortal lives,” he said, a smug smile playing on his lips as he basked in the approval of his audience.

“Why are you doing this?” Bat’s voice, dark and threatening, sliced through the clamor of the room. Her eyes, narrowed into thin slits, were filled with burning fury as she faced Odin. Each word she spoke was steeped in venom.

Odin threw back his head and laughed, a sound quickly echoed by others in the room. “Why does one do anything?” he taunted. “You ought to have seen this coming. The seeds of this plot were sown long ago. Even your sister knew that the truce was fragile, destined to crumble. It took but the slightest nudge, a mere whisper in the right ears, and they all turned to the New God with such eagerness.” His grin stretched wider, revealing a row of perfect teeth. “And to think they all believed Loki was the true trickster.”

“You?” Bat’s voice reverberated through the cavernous ballroom as she advanced a step, her fury propelling her every movement.

He feigned surprise. “Why so shocked? It can’t have escaped your notice that this ‘new’ god bore a striking resemblance to the old tales of ancient deities. I merely repackaged the old myths, and lo and behold, there were scores of mortals only too willing to forsake their old beliefs and embrace the New God.”

His self-satisfaction was evident.

“They slaughtered children in the name of this New God,” she accused.

Odin waved a dismissive hand. “Humans have been sacrificing to the gods since time immemorial. Some even offer sacrifices to the Alfar,” he said, rolling his eyes for emphasis. Laughter rippled through the room again as the music swelled to a crescendo.

Bat’s vision sharpened, focusing on the intricate tapestry of golden threads. Odin was connected to everyone in the ballroom by these glowing tendrils that formed a complex web of relationships and connections, weaving an elaborate tapestry that extended beyond the confines of the ballroom, reaching out into the world beyond. The threads connected not just the people but also entwined with the very essence of the realm—its rivers and mountains, its oceans and forests.

Bat grasped the full extent of her newfound abilities in that profound moment. She saw the delicate balance and interconnectedness of all things in the universe, each element dancing harmoniously with the others. And she knew, startlingly, that she was an integral part of this cosmic ballet.

With a voice full of resolve, she addressed Odin. “This war will cease, and you will release Val, freeing him from his bonds.”

Odin threw his head back and laughed. “I bow to no one. What makes you think you can command me?”

Her lips curved into a smile. “How quickly you forget. Even the gods are beholden to the whims of fate.” With a focused intensity, Bat reached out with both hands, grasping the golden threads that filled the room. She pulled them towards her, feeling a surge of power and control, unlike anything she had ever experienced. The threads resonated under her touch, responding obediently to her every impulse. She closed her eyes and immersed herself in the sea of interconnected threads, feeling each person’s hopes, fears, desires, and secrets in the ballroom.

A hush fell over the room as the guests watched, awe-struck, as Bat’s grasp on the threads tightened and the music ground to a halt once more. The floor beneath her feet splintered and cracked as the power of her grip threatened to bring the entire ballroom crashing down.

When Bat opened her eyes, they shone with an otherworldly golden light. She pulled the threads closer, focusing all her energy on the thread connected to Odin, feeling its pulsating energy. She plucked the thread with a sudden, explosive burst of power, sending a shockwave of energy hurtling towards Odin.

Standing there in her crimson gown, her hair wild and untamed, her eyes gleaming with an inner fire, Bat was a sight to behold. Fear and awe etched the faces of the onlooking guests, some of whom began to edge towards the exits, their eyes never leaving the formidable figure before them.

“Quite the spectacle,” Odin remarked, his laugh taking on a more uneasy quality as he took in the scene unfolding around him.

“You will cease this war and your control over the Vampir.”

Odin scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. “How dramatic of you. You haven’t taken any lives, not truly. And you certainly wouldn’t have the audacity to strike down the gods themselves.”

Without hesitation, Bat seized the thread attached to a hulking man standing at the edge of the dance floor, laughing with abandon. The ballroom echoed with the sound of the thread being severed, followed by the dull thud of the man’s body collapsing to the ground. Gasps of horror and disbelief rippled through the crowd as the guests beheld the lifeless form lying sprawled on the floor.

“You’ve gone and killed Bragi,” Odin remarked, nudging the fallen god’s leg with his foot.

“Yours will be next,” Bat declared, her patience with the god stretched to its limit. She saw him for what he truly was—a bully, no different from the countless others she had encountered throughout her life.

With deft precision, she released one set of threads while simultaneously snipping through another, expertly holding the severed ends in her hands to prevent them from parting completely. “It would take nothing more than the simple release of these threads to seal your fate. And as I understand it, not even you could reverse such an action.”

“You try my patience,” Odin sneered, though the veneer of amusement was rapidly dissolving to reveal a glint of genuine fear in his eyes.

The air in the ballroom crackled with tension as Bat stood, threads in hand, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on Odin.

“You may claim to be a god, but you are nothing more than a tyrant. You take what you want, manipulate those around you, and play puppeteer with the lives of the mortals. You are no different from them, save for the power you wield,” she proclaimed, her voice low and unyielding.

Odin’s face contorted with fury, though he held his tongue. In Bat’s grasp, the threads vibrated with a resonance echoing her immense power. She had the potential to unravel them all, toppling the gods that stood before her.

But then, as if carried on the wind, a distant and tenuous voice whispered in her ear. Bat’s fingers trembled as they clung to the threads, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain her grip without the threads fraying completely. “Your time is dwindling,” she cautioned.

“Very well,” Odin sighed, his tone filled with boredom. “I have grown weary of your theatrics. The Vampir shall be released from their obligations.” His lips curled into a smirk. “After all, the unfolding events are proving quite the spectacle.”

With nimble fingers, Bat wove the threads back together, and the tapestry of fate restored itself. Bragi’s prone form stirred, gradually coming back to life. Odi strolled around the periphery of the room. As if by some unseen signal, the musicians resumed playing, but the atmosphere had undeniably shifted; the dancers moved with a newfound hesitancy, the laughter that filled the air was forced, and the once abundant libations were now sipped with caution. Bat remained vigilant, her eyes never leaving Odin, prepared to intervene should the need arise.

“Well, isn’t this a delightful turn of events!” Odin crowed, his spirits lifted. “We’ve been wagering amongst ourselves, speculating which path you will tread—the Hand of Tyr or the Sire of the Fallen.”

“I’m simply elated to provide you with such amusement,” she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“In the spirit of goodwill, allow me to impart a piece of wisdom you once shared with me,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Knowledge and understanding are the harbingers of destruction. You are destined to obliterate everything you hold dear.” He clapped his hands with a flourish, and the music swelled once more. An overwhelming sense of unease washed over Bat, and she felt like the ground beneath her feet was giving way.

“And now, as a token of our newly forged truce, I have liberated Val from his shackles,” Odin proclaimed to the assembled Aesir gods. “In commemoration of our pact, I have given him a gift. Soon, you will witness the true nature of the monsters that inhabit your world.” His grin widened, reaching the corners of his eyes.

Bat’s vision swam, and her legs gave out, sending her crumpling to the floor. She fought for breath as her hands flailed, seeking purchase on anything that might steady her descent. The lively sounds of the ballroom were drowned out by a constant ringing that filled her ears. The void that had swallowed the threads reached out to her, its pull growing ever more vital. She resisted its tug with every ounce of her being.

“What have you done?” Bat choked out, clutching at her temples as an agonizing throbbing took up residence in her skull. Her lungs constricted, denying her the oxygen she so desperately sought. The world around her plunged into an abyss, and she felt drawn into its depths.

An indistinct murmur echoed in the chasm, calling out to her, enticing her to surrender to the darkness. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything ceased.

The darkness consumed her, a seemingly infinite expanse of nothingness. The voice that had called her name dwindled until it was nothing more than a mere whisper, scarcely audible above the silence surrounding her. Reality slipped through her fingers like grains of sand, leaving her untethered in a realm untold. Time lost all meaning as she floated in the void.

Gradually, her senses began to reawaken. A distant voice, barely perceptible, reached her ears, and she felt the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder, grounding her in the present.