Asgardian Twilight

The Bifrost Sword

The location of the Bifrost Sword could only be discovered through the spilling of blood, that much Skurge knew. Hela would have it no other way. As he stood before a large group of unarmed Asgardians, he felt the weight of his predicament weighing heavily upon his soul. It was true that Asgard was home to some of the greatest warriors in the nine realms. But Asgard wasn't just a world of warriors. There were peaceful souls there as well. When he looked out into the crowd, he saw the faces of innocent, harmless people. His stomach felt ill with what he was doing. What he had to do.

Hela stood at the top of the steps to the palace behind him. She was silent as graves, but her massive wolf could be heard breathing. It was a hungry, threatening noise and only amplified Skurge's mounting feelings of terror and guilt. He had seen a cloaked figure make off with the Bifrost Sword and had done nothing about it despite his urgent need to please Hela and remain in her good graces. Despite every survival instinct screaming for him to tell her.

But he couldn't. Thinking of the horrors Hela could unleash upon all of reality should she leave Asgard had stopped him. But this act had placed him in a position he hadn't wanted. He was Hela's appointed executioner. And now, with the location of the Bifrost Sword known among the Asgardians, he knew what she would ask of him.

She demanded blood.

"Asgardians," he bellowed in a voice that was amazingly calm despite the inner turmoil. "Some misguided soul has stolen the Bifrost Sword. It is the will of our new queen that the sword be returned to her at once. Should you fail in doing so, the punishment will be severe and permanent."

Hela smiled as she looked at the crowd. She saw fear on their faces. Where the was fear, there was weakness. They would speak. Or they would die.

Skurge eyed the people and attempted to ignore the looks of betrayal. Smoking ruins framed them, as did the figures of Hela's Butchers. The cadaverous figures kept them from escaping, barring their exit on all sides with their weapons. Skurge's heart felt sick. The people were exhausted and afraid. And he was abetting it.

"I don't believe they'll talk unless they're given an incentive," Hela tiredly explained. She stepped forward and raised her arm, pointing at one of the Asgardians- a young girl with white-blond hair and a dirty face. "You," Hela announced. "Bring her forth."

The girl cried out and reached for the hands of her mother and father. A desperate tug of war ensued and the girl was ripped from their grasp. The mother collapsed in her husband's arms as he watched his daughter being carried toward Skurge.

"Kill her," Hela commanded.

Skurge looked at the ax in his hands and momentarily thought of spinning around and burying it in Hela's skull, for all the good it would do. He had reached a point where a decision had to be made. Slaughter his own people until someone gave up the location, or reveal his own treachery and face Hela's wrath. Shame colored him as self-preservation one the struggle.

"Please, sir," the little girl cried. She reached out and grasped at his boots. "I beg you," she sobbed. "I don't want to die. Please."

Skurge's eyes filled with tears that he dared not allow to drop. He looked at the child and felt the most excruciating agony in his soul. He had never killed an innocent person before, let alone a child. He would be forced to do so today.

Suddenly the girl's mother looked back at them and screamed at the top of her lungs. "Wait! I know where the sword is!"

"Agnetha!" the husband cried out.

"I won't let them kill our only child!" Agnetha explained as she pulled away from her husband and approached the steps. She fell to her knees. "I ask for your mercy, your majesty. Please spare my child and I will tell you the location."

Hela chuckled lightly before slowly walking down the steps until she was very close to Agnetha. "Tell me where the sword is and I will spare your child."

"There is a mountain hideout, protected by ancient Asgardian magic. Heimdall has the sword, and several of our people, inside there."

Hela raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why aren't all of you hiding with him?"

Agnetha kept her eyes down as she continued to speak. "He could only take so many people at a time to avoid the notice of your army."

Hela shrugged. "That's a decent enough strategy." She leaned down and grabbed Agnetha's face, forcing her to stand and face her. "You've served your queen well today."

Agnetha's eyes showed relief when Hela turned away from her and gestured for Skurge to let the girl go. As she ran to her mother, Hela sighed, then spun around so quickly there was no time to scream. A dagger erupted from her palm and slashed across Agnetha's throat, spilling blood. The girl screamed as her mother's blood sprayed her.

"Agnetha!" the doomed woman's husband roared. He no longer cared about self-preservation. He no longer cared that he was a merchant, not a warrior. He ran forward as Hela sighted him. He was just within touching distance when a spear shot up from Hela's foot.

"Father!" the girl screamed as the spear lodged itself into the man's abdomen before rising into a vertical position, tearing through his upper body and stabbing between his shoulder blades.

"Let their bodies remain here," Hela shouted. "Let this serve as a reminder of what befalls anyone who disobeys their queen!"

The girl clung to her mother's body and cried into her apron. Skurge looked down at her and felt the urge to comfort her. He remained standing and solemn of expression. Showing this sort of emotion would ensure he met the same fate.

"Now," Hela said with a dismissive wave of her hands. "Let's go and recover that sword."