My Hero Origins One-Shots

Trailer

I feel that because my school year is starting, I need to start this.

But, when the story is over, I might go back to the one-shots.

So, this story is officially on hold.

Next weekend, or possibly sooner, the first chapter of Magnus Chase - Rise Of Darkness will be released. Hoping you'll give it a chance.

So, to get you excited, this is a legitimate part of the story. Think of it like a small clip from a moth at is advertised to get you pumped.

We stood in the sparkling arena, glistening with ice foundations and cold frost walls. And yet the ground out feet stood on wasn't slippery. I guess that's Nifleheim for you. I stood to the champion's right at the wall, Saar on the other side to their left. Alex, being the warrior with the best weapon and from Cyrus' demand, stood in front, garrote wire ready.

Alex's face was glowing with determination, as if depicting how he would slice the revived weapon.

From above, the gravelly, voices of Vlad boomed out "BEGIN!"

Without a moment of hesitation, Alex whipped the golden wire around and toward Cyrus with grace. We all expected Cyrus to face the death all of the enemies that faced Alex Fierro: fatally loosing a body part such as their head of being sliced in half.

But the champion didn't flinch at the green-haired einherji moves. And when the deadly weapon came into close contact with them, they moved their arm out to defend themselves, the clay-cutter wrapping itself tightly around the champion's muscular arm.

We all froze at the sight, the moment between the two warriors and how their arm wasn't sliced clean off. Alex grimaced and pulled on his end of the garrote hard, as if it would do the trick. But the pale weapon just planted their feet.

Alex wasn't going to give up yet, but his face was still struck with disbelief  "This isn't possible." He managed out, still strangling with his weapon.

On the other end, Cyrus curled their fingers around the wire, getting a better grip. Their once cream colored irises started to glow a neon blue, just like the old weapon.

The warrior grinned "Kid, you have no idea what these worlds can bring." With that, they pulled on their end of the garrot, yanking Alex of his feet and to his opponent. Once close enough, the other warrior grabbed Alex by the collar of his long sleeve shirt. The two met eyes for a second, possibly glaring at each other before the white soldier bashed their head into Alex's and he crashed into the ice floor, unconscious.

The air seemed to leave my lungs almost as bad as Alex's blow. I've never seen him get taken down so quick. I wanted to sprint over, use every fiber of my energy to get him to his feet. But from the shots ringing out a few yards to my right, it told me that Alex would have to wait. Saar needed me. And not just her, my other friends who watched us from above, powerless to the rulers of Nifleheim.

With a growl of frustration, I darted back over to the fight. But something in my head was shouting at me, telling me to think about my actions. I looked up at the black and white beings going hand to hand: Saar punching the white arsenal in the face, then being grabbed by the ankle and smashed into the arena wall by the champion.

Was it their ferocity? Their brutal actions and energy? Or their appearance that made me stop? Or was it something in my tiny Frey mind that there was something more than the striking fighter in front of me?