Sigurd huddled against a large stone at the foot of a mountain, hands firm against his abdomen to slow the bleeding. Pain simmered while he fought to stifle his breathing. Any sudden noise would give away his location to the one-eyed lynx. He could hear the feline darkling prowling nearby, the dried grass crumpling under the pressure of its powerful paws. Louder. Closer.

He cut his breath short just as the creature crept into view. Their bodies became parallel for a moment, with only a few yards and some dirt separating them. Sigurd thanked the gods for the darkling’s poor field of vision; the eye on its forehead was practically staring at the sky. And with a growl of frustration, it sauntered ahead.

Should he run? No. He would finish what he set out to do. Sigurd eyed the lynx’s tail where its yellow core dangled, completely exposed. One good shot with a projectile would destroy it. Unfortunately, he dropped his spear during the initial tangle with the E-class darkling and gained a few scars. His only chance of surviving lay somewhere on the other side of the stone. Could he retrieve the spear without being heard? He had to try before he bled out.

Slowly releasing his breath, he began inching backwards around the stone. Each push with his hands came with a sting to the body. But a few scratches were nothing compared to his final day on the field of Arendal against the Vikings. For Nisse he fought. And now for the gods he would fight even harder. With the Valkyrie’s reputation at stake, Sigurd could not fail her.

Once the darkling was sufficiently far up the hills, he rose to his feet and tiptoed through the field with quiet urgency. The spear, where was it? His eyes darted around furiously, heart pacing, blood dripping. A glint of light flashed in the grass. Hope! The spear called to him from no more than twenty yards away.

Sigurd picked up pace, stumbling through the uneven terrain. Grass turned to gravel. Rocks rattled beneath his shoes. The one-eyed lynx roared, but he didn’t look back. His heart was thumping a dozen times a second—or was it the darkling barreling towards him? At last, he swooped up the spear from the ground and swung his body around to face the enemy.

It came at him like a menacing gust of wind. Fifteen yards away. Seven yards. Hands on the shaft and legs poised, Sigurd readied himself to strike. One chance was all he had; one chance was all he needed. The lynx leapt into the air and pounced. He sprung forward, then crouched under the creature and thrust his spear upwards. There was a satisfying squelch as the metal pierced through its underbelly and came out the other side.

Sigurd collapsed next to the wailing cat, his energy spent. The wound would’ve been fatal for any Midgardian creature, but it seemed his efforts had not been enough. It hissed at him, then pushed itself back on all fours. The spear lodged through its body was but a minor encumbrance; the core on its tail glowed ever bright. He had failed, and Hel would soon open its gates to claim his soul.

“Sigurd!” the Valkyrie’s voice rang from the sky.

She descended from her magical beast and rushed to his side. The darkling was quickly taken care of by the male companion that accompanied her. A conflicting mix of joy and shame swirled inside him. His vision blurred.

The next thing he knew, he was high in the clouds on the Valkyrie’s horse, nestled between her arms.

~*~

Karina stepped out of the Vestfold forest into a tiny clearing, where two Einherjars waited for her. The armor-clad girl leaned against a hill by the entrance of the dungeon, the harsh look on her face painted her fierce and unwelcoming. Her companion, a slender boy in a robe seated on a tree stump, seemed more approachable. Regardless, she wasn’t here to make friends; she had work to do.

He stood to greet her. “Karina?”

“Yes,” Karina said. “Osmond, I assume?”

He smiled, then turned to the girl. “And there is Annika.”

Annika gave a half nod. As she sauntered over, her eyes suddenly darted to the trees. “Who’s there?”

There was a rustling of leaves followed by tentative footsteps.

Karina turned around to see Aaren peeking out of the forest, coyly scratching his head. “What are you doing here?” Had she not made it clear that there was no chance of them rekindling their relationship? What a nuisance! And shirking his duties, evidently. “You’re supposed to be with Sigurd.”

“He’s more than capable on his own. I thought you might need help.” Aaren let out a habitually annoying chuckle and waved to the others. “I’m Aaren.”

She exercised restraint. A reprimand would create unnecessary tension. Too gentle and she risked sending the wrong message. For the mission’s sake, it was best to keep her mouth shut.

“This is no place for a lovers’ quarrel,” the observant Annika said. “I do not want personal matters”—she glanced over at Aaren—“or weakness to hold us back.”

“Agreed.” Karina shifted her gaze to the dungeon. “Shall we go?”

Annika led the mission, as she was the strongest and most experienced among them.

It appeared no more than a hole in a mound from the exterior, but upon stepping foot inside, the dungeon transformed into a vast cavern. A haunting blue glow emanated from the pit below, sparing Karina from expending energy to produce a light source. Wet, flesh-like walls ebbed in and out like a living organ, sucking and spitting out viscous substances at regular intervals. The stench was both foreign and foul.

Annika drew her sword, and Aaren followed suit. He sliced at a wall with his blade, but it quickly healed itself.

“Don’t waste your time,” Annika said. “We go for the core. That is the only way to destroy the dungeon.”

“And if the whole thing collapses?” Aaren asked.

Her eyes bore into his. “Then Hel will welcome us to Niflheim.” A grave silence fell upon the group, until at last she spoke again, this time with unexpected spite in her words. “That’s the Dainsleif you hold…”

“Yes. A gift from my Valkyrie.”

“I surmised.” Annika scanned the cavern, her war-like posture no doubt formulating a strategy. “We employ the star formation. Aaren and I will lead the front. Karina, you support us from the rear. Osmond will be the nucleus. We protect him at all costs.”

“My life magic will keep us alive,” Osmond assured with a wink.

“Keep your eyes peeled for the dungeon’s defenses,” Annika warned.

On that note, the wall gurgled and spat out a blue blob of slime the size of a chicken. It wiggled to life, and flung itself at Aaren. He swung with his sword, but missed, giving the creature an opportunity to latch onto his thigh. “Hey!” he cried, trying to shake it off.

Annika grabbed and tore the slime off him, before slamming it against the wall with her free hand. Instincts kicking in, Karina lifted her palm and blasted the creature with a fireball. It sizzled into smoke, then seeped back into the dungeon’s organ.

At that very moment, two more blobs appeared from another part of the wall. Indeed, it would be a waste of time to entertain these slimes. They were endless!

“To the core, now!” Annika eliminated the blobs with two slices, then marched onward.

Aaren cast Karina an optimistic glance, then joined their leader in the front.

The four of them began their descent of the soft, spiral trail towards the core. Blobs squeezed out of the walls here and there, obstructing their path. Annika made easy work of them without a break in her strut. Even Aaren was getting the hang of it. Karina herself took care of any excess blobs that got in the way and those that tried to sneak up on them from behind. Slimes sizzled left, right, and back. Soon, a rhythm developed.

“Excellent work, everyone,” Osmond said as a white aura shot from his body onto Aaren’s.

The sweat on Aaren’s face vanished, his energy seemingly restored. “Thanks!”

Karina had never seen such curious magic in her life. Which part of Midgard was Osmond from? Perhaps she could inquire about his knowledge of the runes. This mission might just unlock a new door for her.

Annika picked up the pace. “Save the banter for after the mission.”

Their descent continued. The blue glow of the core intensified, and so did the amount of blobs. Karina increased her efforts as needed. Aaren occasionally looked back to check on her. Not wanting to give the wrong signal, she avoided his glances. Though, his display of courage had indeed won him a little respect from her.

“Karina, behind you,” Aaren shouted, coming full stop.

“I got it,” she told him, then waved her hand to create a wall of fire. “That should buy us time.”

In the front, Annika slashed wide, wiping out five slimes at once. “Stay focused! We’re close.”

Osmond shot his aura at all three of them. A warmth entered Karina’s body, lifting her spirits to new heights. She nodded a thanks to him. Such powerful magic must come at a cost; the boy’s skin had grown noticeably pale.

They ran the last stretch of the trail, until it ended at a massive chamber. The dungeon moaned, cursing their intrusion, while its core shrieked at deafening heights. Slimes flooded the floor, fusing together into a giant shield to protect the vulnerable heart tucked in a nook.

“We have to clear a way to the core!” Annika shouted over the din while slashing at a rope of slime.

Aaren joined her, and the two slowly carved away at the shield. Karina singed the stray slimes, making sure they don’t reintegrate with the main blob. Osmond acted as their eyes, scoping for dangers, as could barely stand. It was on them now to finish the task.

The dungeon’s moans began to mellow. Its core fell to a whimper.

How much longer?

Her body was close to its limit.

“Karina, look out!” Osmond cried out suddenly.

She followed his fear-filled eyes to see a second blob rolling down the spiral trail. Karina swung a fireball at it, melting a huge chunk off. But it was not enough. The blob wrapped around her with two stretchy arms. Unable to dodge, she soon found herself submerged inside the creature’s viscous form.

The noise around her cut to silence.

Karina squeezed her mouth shut. Her limbs grew numb, nearly constricted by the pressure of the blue liquid. She blinked and saw Aaren’s dreadful eyes glaring straight at her. He mouthed something, but she couldn’t hear. Time seemed to freeze. She felt a familiar weightlessness. Was this the end? No. Not this way. Not when she had so much more to do in Asgard.

Searching her soul, Karina located her last spark of energy and released all restraints. Fire jetted from out from her arms and swirled like a storm. Faster. Hotter. Blue turned to white. Just before she was consumed by her own flames, the blob burst and dissolved into a steam. She collapsed to the ground, drawing in some much needed air.

“Karina!” Aaren held her tight, seemingly consumed by the fear for her life.

She wanted to slap some reason into him. “The core!” What use was he by her side?

The slime shield sprung multiple appendages and latched onto Osmond and Aaren. With her last ounce of strength, Karina seared off the ropey substance to free Aaren. But Osmond was not so lucky. In an instant, he was pulled into the giant blob.

“Aaren!” Annika shouted while still mercilessly hacking at the dungeon’s last line of defense.

“Help them…” Karina tried to scream, but it came out as a hollow whisper.

“It’s hopeless…” Aaren dropped his sword and frantically picked her up and started to run. “Run, Annika!”

Karina shut her eyes in disappointment. What a fool she was to belief this boy had changed.

Annika ran over and grabbed the Dainsleif lying on the ground. She cast a brief look of disgust at Aaren, then marched back to the core to resume her duty. The rest was a blur. All Karina could hear was the dungeon’s moans becoming softer and softer. And then, the core shattered.

When she came to again, she found herself in a giant pit, propped against a wall. Annika and Aaren far apart in deathly silence.

“What happened?” She struggled to her feet and looked around. “Where’s Osmond?”

Aaren gulped, too cowardly to look at her.

“He’s gone.” Tears streamed down Annika’s cheeks. “Hel has him now.”

Karina’s heart sank. “We’re so sorry.”

The girl’s eyes burned with sadness and anger. “Brunhilde will hear about this.”