Amara Freyadottir, the heir to the throne of Vanaheim, has never been one for royal trivialities. She would much rather spend her days exploring the lands of Vanaheim and Asgard, finding places to read, and having fun with her best friend, Loki. How...
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"amara watches with wide eyes as loki takes on at least four frost giants by himself while in his Jotun form, using the cask of ancient winters."
OUTSIDE THE PALACE, the Frost Giants are already wreaking havoc. Buildings are being uprooted, citizens are being targeted. Most of the creatures, however, have their attention focused on the palace, especially since the royals are now standing outside in the open.
"Where is he?!" the nearest beast yells, quickly making his way to the palace. "We know he's here - we felt the Cask open!"
"Where was Loki when you last saw him?" Freya asks Amara, tightly gripping her arm.
"In the treasure room with the Cask," Amara answers, still unable to look her mother in the eyes.
"Amara, I need you to go find him now. Make sure he does not-"
"No, no, absolutely not," she says, anger surging once again. "I refuse to be a pawn in this game of yours any longer, Mother, I-"
Freya grabs her daughter's wrists tightly, snatching her attention. "Do you want him to be taken to Jotunheim? Where he will be tortured, relentlessly, until he agrees to be king? Is that what you want, Amara?"
The daughter's answer is a menacing, spiteful glare.
"Then I suggest you do as I say. Find Loki and make sure the Frost Giants do not get anywhere near him. Now."
Amara stares for a moment longer before ripping herself free of Freya's grasp and darting off inside the palace, hating that she is once again playing a puppet's role. However, it does not escape her that her mother is right about one thing: if the Frost Giants find Loki, they will certainly force him into taking the throne of Jotunheim, one way, or another.
She runs throughout the castle, calling Loki's name frantically every now and then. She can only hope he hasn't already gotten himself into trouble with the Frost Giants - with how upset he probably is, his judgment ability is most likely not in the best of shape.
One of the first distinct places Amara checks is where she had last seen Loki, which is, of course, the treasure room. To her dismay, he is nowhere to be found, and to her horror, neither is the Cask of Ancient Winters.
She curses to herself as she bounds back up the stairs, running through the castle wildly as she tries to catch any glimpse of Loki. Whatever idea he has in his head right now, Amara knows it certainly cannot be good.
By the time she has run around enough to reach the upper balconies, she is out of breath and her chest is burning unlike it ever has before. It is all worth it, however, when she finally catches a glimpse of gold and emerald armor.
She yells his name before she can stop herself, bounding out onto the balcony in the midst of a heavy battle. Amara watches with wide eyes as Loki takes on at least four Frost Giants by himself while in his Jotun form, using the Cask of Ancient Winters. He is full of rage and rage only, fighting with bared teeth and the eyes of a wild animal. The anger is blinding him, forcing him to savagery.
"Loki, no!" Amara screams before she can stop herself. "Don't fall into what the prophecy wants!"
Her voice is loud enough for both Loki and his enemies to hear. His eyes and those of most of the Frost Giants turn to her; Amara freezes with fear, her feet taking minuscule steps back into the palace without her consent.
Then, she notices that one of the Frost Giants that is not looking at her is reading his arm back, as if to toss something at Loki. Amara's heart pitfalls.
"Loki, look out!"
But she is too late. The object, which is some sort of technological sphere, lands at Loki's feet and explodes into a light blue mist. When it implodes, nothing is left in its place - Loki has simply vanished.
Amara's fear is momentarily replaced by anger. "What did you do?" she asks, frantic. "Where did you take him?!"
"That is none of your concern, vermin woman," the biggest Jotun of the group sneers at her. He smiles then, bearing huge, gnarled teeth. "Now, tell us more about this prophecy of yours."
It is then that Amara realizes the gravity of the mistake she has made. If the Jotuns were to find the prophecy, then they would know exactly how to manipulate Loki into doing whatever they want him to do. It not only puts Loki extremely at risk, but her as well, as, according to the prophecy, she is the only thing that stands between Loki and a lifestyle of evil and villainy.
Amara swallows her nerves before speaking. "I'll never tell you!" she answers.
The big Jotun's cryptic smile remains. "That's the wrong answer," he smirks.
In the next second, all of the Jotuns are rushing for her, yearning for a fight. Amara has no choice but to fight back with all she has.
The fight is five-on-one, so Amara hardly stands a chance to kill all of them by herself, but that certainly doesn't mean she doesn't try. She fights as hard as she ever has before, using a combination of magic and physical attacks. Her anger fuels her like a drug, making her stronger, quicker, deadlier.
She kills two of them at once by using vines to smash their heads together, leaving no more than a bloody stump where their heads should be. However, this attack gave another Jotun just enough time to through one of the spherical devices her way without her noticing.
She only realizes when the device is at her feet, and by then it is far too late. The sphere explodes into a blue mist in the blink of an eye, and Amara is no longer standing there when the mist clears.
