#unhinged skadi trying to kill to keep her children alive

[akkreti]

I had awoken to the cawing of ravens and the sizzling of flames. In my hand then was a red spear, a sensation that was hauntingly familiar for an item I had never seen before that very moment.

<—>

“So that’s what this Lostbelt is. A world of mountains, white ice, and blue flame…”

Besides me, I listen to Mash’s description of the landscape. I wonder how it would feel to walk between those burning ice trees. Beautiful from afar, but would I be burned by something that can’t melt even ice?

Are they even flames? Are they even ice?

“And then there’s the … sun? It’s much too big to be the sun, though…“

Looking up, I find myself agreeing with Mash. The sun is way bigger than the one I remember, big enough to cover a good portion of the sky - I avert my eyes by instinct before realizing something.

I can stare at the sun just fine.

<—>

The sun above me shone with a hateful glare. I hate it back.

That fire. That heat. That eye. How dare he? How dare he hated me when this was all his fault? The world around me burned as if Ragnarök never ended, and that was true, and it was all his fault.

I’ll kill him.

That was all that I thought at the time. The Runes that Odin gave me, I used it all away to inflict as much pain on that hateful sun. My Authority over the mountains and shadow, I pushed and I squeezed and I exhausted them until my entire existence was devoted to devouring that hideous flames. The spear, that lovingly crafted red spear, I threw with all my strength, neither as the ultimate warrior or the insulted goddess, but as an Avenger that threw away her life to drag her husband’s murderer to the depths of hell.

I’ll kill him even if it’s the last thing I do.

I swore to kill that thing even if I have to tear his burning face with my bare hands and eat his heart as I dig through his torso with ashen skeletal hands.

I’ll kill him. And everything will be alright.

<—>

“A simple question. Do I kill you, or love you?”

Another threat. As genuine as all the threat I have faced. I wonder what it says about me that I am not afraid. A single wrong step would kill me, yet I am not afraid. Not after Russia. Not after that frozen nation. Not after Patxi. 

“Capture them.”

The order is given with the calm serenity that is present from the first moment the goddess had appeared. Scáthach-Skaði.

Her smile does not fit her face. Her voice does not fit her face. Her demeanor does not fit her face. A familiar stranger, different in all but name and face to the Scáthach that Mash and I know.

I am unable to think of her as the Lancer I know. The goddess in front of me is not Scáthach. 

There is too much gentleness in her words.

<—>

“My Goddess. Your command?”

My throat was hoarse. The tight clothing I had woken up to was in tatters. My hair had turned black from the heat. My hands had lost all of its flesh, leaving ash-covered bones that hardened around the handle of that red spear.

I had swore to kill that hideous sun even if I would die to do so, yet that voice had broken my mind from continuing to stab at the sun in an effort to bleed it.

Ah. How pathetic. A single greeting was enough to dispel my hatred.

I turned to take a look a the interloper and was met with three familiar faces. Thrúd. Hildr. Ortlinde. Three of Odin’s vaunted Valkyries. 

Survivors of the Broken Ragnarök. I had not expect there to be others besides me. Leave it to Odin to make something like that happen. He was a crafty man.

“What do you want?”

My voice came out in a cadence unfit for a goddess. It was hoarse from my proximity to the sun, yes, but there was a roughness in the tone that I had not used since the time my father was alive.

“Your command, my Goddess. As the last surviving Goddess of the land, we are to-“

Last surviving. Yes, even centuries afterward, I did not find any hints to any other survivors.

I hate that thing. I hate that light. I hate that sun.

“Your majesty?”

“I’m busy. Do as you have always done.”

And on that brusque note, I turned from what was left of my family to stew in hatred and pain as I attempt to kill the monster that had done this.

I’ll kill him. And everything will be alright.

<—>

“I remember hearing that in one of our legends. You know, it’s amazing! I never thought I would actually get to entertain guests of my own someday!”

Gerda speaks as if visitors are something that exists only in legends here. The people here, they never wander out and they never find any novelty.

Endless days of nothing but living. It was peaceful here. So very peaceful. Like a place out of a fairy tale with a happy ending.

What can I say to that? That there would be no happy ending for them?

“Hehehe. Please enjoy your stay.”

Should I say anything? Should I tell her anything? Patxi, he knew what I- what Chaldea was doing, and he still jumped to protect me.

Can I break this story’s happiness? 

<—>

I did not know how long time had passed in my attempt to kill that thing. I did not sleep. I did not rest. I did not retreat. 

The pain from the flames had long since disappeared. My body felt lighter and swifter, and my strikes went deeper and louder than when I had first started. 

In front of me were flames. Behind me were shadow and ice. 

I was drenched in an aura of darkness that smothers all light. The screams of the sun had long since filled my head and echoed continuously within my skull. My flesh had long since burned away, leaving only unfeeling bones. 

No matter what, I will kill him.

I’ll kill Surtr. And everything will be alright.

<—>

The sun turns black. Burning blood spills forth from the black ball in the sky. 

The fire giant, Surtr, approaches us, a burning sword in hand.

The fire was hot. Incredibly hot.

It reminds me of that beam of light at the Tem-

“Out of my way.”

The voice rattles my skull. A voice fitting for the King of Giants. A voice as gargantuan as he is.

An enemy that could kill even gods with a single blow. The fire that should have destroyed the world, and is now back for round 2. An opponent so far beyond us that he could crush us like bugs.

So, like always. It can’t be helped.

I’ll just have to move forward. And everything will hopefully be alright.

<—>

I thrusted. I tore. I bled.

I don’t know how long I have been doing this. 

I swung. I pushed. I cracked.

I have to do it. I have to kill this thing. And everything will be alright.

I screamed. I roared. I cried.

I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that thing and this excruciating feeling inside me would be sated. 

I-

“My Goddess?”

Those voices again.

“…”

No voice came out in response. I tried to ask them what they want, but I have no throat or tongue. 

“Thrúd reporting. Human population has decreased to less than a hundred. Analysis of the situation estimates that that number will reach 0 within a week’s time. We are requesting orders.”

Ah. Ha. Hah. 

Is that it? Then that’s fine. I’ll kill Surtr, and everything will be alright. 

Everything will be alright, right?

That’s the way of the Aesir. If there is a problem, kill it. It has worked against all of our enemies, and it will work once I kill Surtr and finish Ragnarök. 

It has to work.

It has to.

It ha-

“How long has it been since Ragnarök?”

That break had given me enough time to regrow my flesh. My throat and my tongue suck in air, and my lung breath in and out for the first time in quite a while. Unbidden, the question escaped my lips.

“Approximately 70 days have passed. Ever since the King of Fire Giants were sealed and replaced the new sun, there have been no night to signal the end of a day, nor have the seasons changed.”

Haa. Haa. The last Goddess in this god-forsaken land. What a joke. What an absolute, cosmic joke. I am a hunter. I am a warrior. I am a destroyer. I am the mountain. I am the snow. I am not a mother or a caretaker or anything that can replace the gods and goddesses of life.

Why Odin, why me?

The only thing I can do is kill.

Fine. Fine. That’s fine. I can step up. I- I can do that. I can fix everything. 

Even if I can’t help the grow, I can watch over them. Over my… my children.

I’ll keep everything alive then. If I can’t even kill, then I must be able to keep someone alive, right?

<—>

“I will do whatever I must to protect my world. That should be abundantly clear by now.”

In front of us is the sole Goddess of this land, Scáthach-Skaði. Behind her stood the Tree of Emptiness that I- that we must cut down. 

“I have always taken responsibility for deciding who to love, and who to kill.”

Around us, the wind pick up in speed. The temperature lowers as cracks of ice spread around her. 

In her hand is a red spear. I know that spear. Gáe Bolg, the spear wielded by the Scáthach of our world.

Shadows gather around her as her appearance melts like snow near a fire. No, there is a fire. The shadow burns her flesh like a fire would.

“Heh. I suppose there’s a fire within me as well.”

Her manner of speech changed. 

“I know that this world is wrong. That it should’ve disappeared many centuries ago, but…”

Her stance becomes something similar to the Lancer I know.

“I’ve chosen to love these people. Small in numbers though they are, compared to the billions of your world…”

Before us stands a warrior. An incarnation of the tall mountains and icy storms. Her entire being burns with silent black flame, as if uncertain of her own nature of shadow or fire.

“I am their mother. Their guardian. And for that, I’ll kill you. I’ll murder the billions of your world to keep this miracle of life going. I can offer no apology. No consolation and no compensation.”

The air tenses. I can feel it. We must kill her to get through. To complete our mission and take back our future.

By taking theirs.

“I’ll do what I must to bring them a new tomorrow. Farewell, Chaldeans of Proper Human History. This is the last we’ll see of each other.”

I-

“My name. My existence. My love. The mountain descends with an avalanche, not to bury, but to embrace. Come to me, Scathing Thrymheimr!”