Sigurd crossed his arms behind his back and peered up into the ceiling of the chamber. He seemed deep in thought, or maybe just emotion. Brynhild watched him in silence for a time, then stepped forward. Her steel high heels clanked against the black stone floor.

“Your brilliant plan worked then?” She said as she walked up behind him, yet remained two meters away. “Are you not happy, dear husband?” Sigurd returned to reality with a solemn expression. He then shook his head as he stared into the baths below.

“I sense nothing...even now Fafnir does not recognise me as his master.” Brynhild paused. She turned to face the place where in the distance Fafnir lay. The Black Dragon and her husband’s auras of Ash had indeed not mixed...the beast hadn’t recognised him as its master.

“Yet I sense no other?” She muttered. She pondered for a moment the possibility that Avance might yet survive. However, more likely than that, was the idea that the beast had simply imprinted upon one of the man’s sons after his passing, whether that be Mourn or the other one that Ahzi had spoken of.

“We’re running out of time, Grimnir will reach his complete form in but a few decades. For my daughters, for their children to come...I must make this empire strong enough to endure its protector’s departure.”

The Nidhogg Empire had withstood more than a thousand years but only under Grimnir’s shadow could it do so. When their god was gone, when they had no protector, how many more years would they still be able to endure? The Emperor knew well what could become of them after that.

When Alfod vanished, the Kingdom of Wisemen disappeared soon after. Once the gods protecting them were driven off, kingdoms died quickly. Their Empire was quite responsible for more than a few such kingdoms crumbling into dust. He did not want that to be his legacy. For this reason he was focused on reclaiming Fafnir for the Empire and crushing the Centurion Kingdom was quickly as possible. After that he planned to set out and conquer as many of the other lands he could. His Empire would only truly be safe when all of its rivals were subjugated, and that could only happen while they remained under the protection of Grimnir’s umbrella.

He peered forward into the expansive chamber and trembled. He saw crimson staring back at him as he locked eyes with his god. Even Brynhild took a step back. Grimnir had sat here in this chamber unmoving for centuries, but now he moved. The transformations in the baths below accelerated tenfold.

The women in the stands trembled as they caught sight of him. The founts before them trembled, the crimson water within began to rise, it leapt forward and smacked into their faces. Whether they inhaled it, whether it entered through their eyes, noses and ears, none of it mattered in the end.

Grimnir then lowered his raised arm. The waters calmed, all of them, and sank into the deep abyss below the chamber. Both the emperor and his empress took a step back as their god slammed the pommel of his staff down onto the dragon’s skull. Their god, for the first time in a millennia, made a move. Grimnir breathed in, then exhaled a sigh. Both the emperor and his bride knelt down before him, yet he did not care a whit.

‘Alfod’s seal on Asagrim is fading fast,’ The crimson Vanir pondered, ‘That swine is no threat to me. I’m not the same as when we were mortal, when I was serf and he was king. However...he is a threat to my kin.’ Grimnir’s gaze turned off into the distance.

The Yggdrasil had their own politics, of course. Rognir could not resolve a curse placed by Authun’s Beacons, and he could not strengthen a seal made by Alfod. His only option was to wait until Alfod’s seal broke and then bind Asagrim with a completely new one. He opened his eyes and turned towards Sigurd. He hadn’t displayed all of this power purely for show, it was an incentive, and a form of payment in advance.

“There is a Beacon in Muspelheim, it belongs to Asagrim, destroy it,” Grimnir commanded in his deep, guttural voice. Sigurd heard that command loud and clear. The emperor raised his head to meet the gaze of his god. He knew well what Grimnir’s stake was in this. Authun was sealed with Abel’s aid, sealed by the Beacons of Asagrim, only by talking with Asagrim himself or by destroying them could she be freed.

Naturally, however, Grimnir would never negotiate with Asagrim, nor could he touch his Beacons, so he had no choice but to have them do it. He did not mind being commanded so, for while he knew that he was being used he knew even more so that they needed Grimnir’s patronage.

He stood up, his gaze still deep into Grimnir’s own. He gave a confident smile and turned on his heels. He passed by Brynhild, who still had her head turned to face the ground, and then left the vast chamber. Grimnir then turned his gaze upon her, she felt it was so. The powerful oppressive aura of a being men could only call gods bore down upon her.

“I sense that the emperor has a new child.” Brynhild’s shoulders trembled. She clenched her fingers tight over her dress, creasing its crimson form heavily.

“Yes, his mistress...Gudrun, bore him one.”

“I see,” Grimnir said with a pondering tone. He moved his staff forward and rested it upon his lap. He remained deep in thought for a time, but then he looked towards her once again. “Bring that child here,” he said, as a crimson light gathered to form a new Beacon in his palm, “I shall grant her my blessing.” Brynhild’s eyes widened for a moment, she grit her teeth in fury, yet she said nothing on the matter. For the daughter of a mistress to receive the favour of their patron god over her own daughter, this was certainly not good news for her, not in the least.

The god frowned, he was aware of her thoughts, but he cared little for the tiresome struggles of a mortal emperor’s inner palace. He wanted to grant his blessing upon that child because it was the last blessing he might ever bestow, that was his reason, that and nothing more.

“I...understand,” Brynhild said, lowering her head even further to bow before the indifferent god. She then turned on her heels and stopped in place. Her gaze turned towards the now mindless women who sat, like dolls, upon the stand around the chamber. Then her gaze turned upon the men, rendered base and beastly to serve the ends of their captors eternal.

She frowned, not because she felt any form of sympathy, certainly, for the empire’s main rule would ever be that the strong do as they will to the weak and the fallen. The reason she frowned, therefore, was because of frustration and nothing more.

______________________________________________

The saphire general, Ahzi Dahaka, walked into the courtyard and beheld the chained body of the pitch black beast, Fafnir. He crossed his arms and sighed, his pale blue robes waved in the wind. The Emperor and Empress had not been the only ones to sense Grimnir stirring, far from it, he had naturally also felt that powerful pressure befalling his body. He suffered a cold sweat for it, he who feared no man could not cease his trembling.

He heard a sound behind him. The wind roared, but it did not cover up the clap of her heels. He faced his comrade, a woman clad in a large fur coat. Her hair, pitch black and cut short, a style she shared with the emperor’s mistress, waved in the gales.

“You’ve returned,” She said to him, her gaze cold and stern. The general sighed as he faced his peer. Rosa of The House of Tiamat. She paused her steps and scrutinised him. This was perhaps the first time she’d seen his face unobstructed by his armour, the sight of it got a rise out of her. The general dismissed her and then turned back to face the black dragon once more. Rosa recovered, then stepped forward.

“I have,” Ahzi finally replied. Rosa stood beside him. Her gaze befell the restrained black dragon. She frowned just a little. Although she and Ahzi were of similar rank, she was by far his junior. They were both generals, they were both the lords of their houses, albeit he was retired and she was not. She could not help but wonder if she could have accomplished this task herself. The black dragon and its master were both well known threats to their empire.

“Venus City was completely destroyed?” She said, turning to look upon Ahzi’s pale white face.

“That was part of the plan,” Ahzi replied. Cain promised them that much, to weaken their enemies as much as possible. Venus City was both a port for the other cities and also something of a mascot, its destruction, alongside the defection of Saturn, was a heavy blow.

“What a shame,” Rosa said as she leaned her elbow upon the stone barrier before her. Ahzi frowned, he sighed soon after. The women of Venus’ beauty was known to all in the world, it was no wonder that Rosa would feel it a shame for them to have been lost. After all, while his family traded in dragon mounts, her’s held a monopoly on the empire’s brothels. The deaths of Venus ilk, to her, was as such a wasted opportunity.

“There were survivors,” He said, “Roughly six hundred of them.” Rosa glanced towards him, then she sighed once again. Six hundred was not a very high number, especially given how many had lived in the city before now. Ahzi glanced towards his younger peer. He could only huff in solace. She had been quite clearly corrupted, although he was no saint himself. He crossed his arms and frowned towards her, an act that got her attention. “There was a Gemini among them.”

“Is that so...what’s that got to do with me,” She said, frowning back at him, “You’re the one who destroyed Gemini.”

“Yes,” He conceded, “But you are the one who was sent to hunt down the survivors.” Rosa flinched. She turned away from him, her elder, and could not help but make excuses. However, in the end, her excuses meant little to nothing under his gaze.

“I managed to capture the patriarch,” She said.

“But you let his daughter escape...and now she has joined Cain’s ranks,” He replied. Rosa turned away from him, her gaze shifted back upon the black dragon below. Truth be told, they were both to blame, for as one Gemini joined Cain another was freed to join the ranks of Jupiter. Yet Rosa did not know this, and hence she had no grounds to bicker. Their argument grounded to a halt then as an echo resounded in the wind. Same as before, when Rosa walked out, the sound of a woman’s heels struck the stone ground.

“This is no place for you two to be bickering,” The empress, her majesty, Brynhilda, said as she walked out to greet them. The duo turned to face her, both fell upon one knee.

“My apologies,” Said Ahzi.

“Sorry, your Highness,” Said Rosa. Brynhild looked down upon them, she crossed her arms and scoffed towards them.

“The slaves are ready,” She said, “Take them, return to your cities and prepare for the war that is to come.” Ahzi and Rosa both rose to their feet. They were baffled, the latter looked to the former for an answer, yet found him no less confused than her. The slaves were already prepared? That was quick, too quick even. “Get going!” Brynhild said to them. The duo bowed, unwilling to anger her, and then they passed her by. The younger of the two paused briefly in her steps, she looked upon the empress’ tall back with trembling before following Ahzi inside a moment later.

 ___________________________________________

Brynhild frowned, she stepped forward to look upon Fafnir’s chained body. She had an inkling in the back of her mind, one that even Ahzi, who was on the scene, did not seem to realise.

“A Gemini was there...huh?” Common sense said that a Platinum Class Gemini could not make a new clone of themselves so soon after having already done so. This common sense misled Ahzi, it encouraged him to believe that Avance was well and truly dead. Had he known, however, that Cerus’ male counterpart wasn’t recently born, but had long existed, then he would have realised that Cerus herself wasn’t unable to make a new one at that time.

Brynhild, meanwhile, was simply not aware of any of those events altogether, thus she didn’t assume anything at all of what Cerus could and couldn’t do. She smirked. He was hidden, slumbering within the body of the dragon, but a keen sense could perceive him if it was honed in.

Avance stirred, his eyes opened, he saw the empress staring back at him. He prepared to make his move, prepared to strike her down...however.

“I’ll ignore you,” She mimed to him with her soundless lips, “provided you kill a certain person for me.” He calmed himself, his Ash receded and he concealed his presence once again. He could not understand why Brynhild would make this deal, but he had little choice really. The optimum choice was just that, to go along with her will.

And so it was, that the mistress of the emperor’s fate was firmly sealed.