Fallen Kingdom

Sounds of war filled her ears as soon as her feet touched the floor. Heimdal bowed on one knee, a nasty gash along his cheek.

" Princess," he gasped," the palace has been infiltrated. The relics room is destr-"

"Rise Heimdal." Torun said hurriedly. "I came as soon as my father contacted me. Is he alright?" the warrior inquired.

The gatekeeper rose, wincing slightly. "I cannot see him. Loki clouds him from my vision." Worry spread across the older man's face, "Your Highness, Asgard is in grave danger. We cannot continue to fight alone."

"Your concern is well placed, but I assure you, we will pull through. Have the leaders of the other realms responded to our distress signals?"

Fire flickered inside of Heimdal's omniscient eyes. "All have received them. None will help. Asgard is alone. Have our Midgardian allies decided to abandon us too?"

Torun sighed, "They are unwilling to fight against the Frost Giants. But fear not. Asgard is never alone. We have our strength." The princess gripped Heimdal's shoulder and stared into his eyes fearlessly, lending him the courage that she did not posses. "Now, I will go. The throne room is secure, yes?"

"It is the only place untouched. The Jotuns are advancing on it quickly. Hurry Your Majesty. And Luck be with you." With that, Heimdal ran off to the battlefield, to continue to battle for their home.

Calling the winds to her aid, Torun flew towards the city, which now lay in ruins. Columns lay on the ground in pieces, siege towers reduced to rubble, and the frozen lumps that lay scattered that Torun could not bear to think of as her people. The people she was raised to lead and protect, were now crushed under stone and metal, frozen into statues with no hope of thawing.

The demigod killed frost giants and dodged icy projectiles on her journey. By the time she finally reached the throne room, Torun had seen so much death, her eyes burned. Though she could not cry. If there was to be any hope of winning this, there was no room for a chink in her armor now.

The throne room was perfect. Glittering in its golden glory. It muffled the sounds of the slowly ending war outside. For a moment, she could almost imagine her home was whole again... Pushing aside the longing, she scurried to the windows and flew out to search the battlefield. Hiding close to the palace wall, Torun could see aircrafts zipping back and forth, shooting and crashing and burning before her eyes. Asgardian warriors and Valkyries let loose battle cries as they fought. Frost giants answered with deep, bone chilling bellows.

Following the sign of lightning strikes in the heart of the field, Torun enveloped herself fully into the throws of battle, letting her training take over, slicing heads off blue bodies with her sword, and making a path towards her father. When she could see him, her chest ached with fear. Thor was struggling to catch his breath, King Laufey wrestling him to the ground and pinning him. Mjolnir, nowhere to be seen. The lightning stopped. Thor moaned in pain. The King of Asgard was weak. Straddled by The King of Frost Giants. An icy dagger was held to Thor's throat by a man no other than the God of Mischief.

Loki's harsh red eyes caught hers and a cruel sneer greeted her. Torun's uncle was blue from head to toe. Laufey continued to pin Thor, who's eyes found Torun while Laufey looked at Loki proudly. Thor's eyes pleaded with Torun to please go, please don't watch him die, run for your life, and don't look back. But she couldn't move...

"Do it." Laufey grinned.

Taking a step forward, sword at the ready, Torun shouted, "NO!" but her cry was lost in the millions of others around her. Loki Laufeyson jerked his knife down and sideways. Once. Twice. Three times. Sawing off the head of the beloved King, husband, and father with purposeful malice in each move. Blood spurted from the body and his head landed with a sickening thunk. Torun was lost in a scream that set fire to her throat. She could feel her stomach churning, her gut being wrenched as if wanting to leap from her body. Still screaming, she felt the winds picking up, her body lifting off the ground, and a roar in her ears like a freight train. Torun had become a storm.

She was a tornado and a hurricane combined. Lightening streaks flew at random and hit any target available. Torun's eyes were ablaze with electricity and she could see nothing through the sparks. She realized the freight train roar was coming from her own throat. Her helmet was ripped from her head and her hair was flowing with energy. Her armor burned her skin from conducting the electricity all around her, flowing within her, and out of her. The pain in her stomach from the sheer power coursing through her was unbearable. It reached everywhere, and when it was too much, she begged herself, "No more. Please..."

The winds died slowly, and she shut her eyes. Her feet hit the ground first, pretending to hold her up, but there was no strength left. Torun crumpled to her knees and let her body curl in on itself on the floor. There was silence. When Torun opened her dry eyes, she was surprised to see she was in the throne room. A clear path marked where her storm had delivered her from. Straight from her father's dead body, to the foot of her father's throne. She had caused mass destruction. Torun could see through the gaping hole in the wall that the landscape outside had been windswept. Void of people. Giants fled, if any had survived, and Asgardians were gone. The throne room was ruined. Banners tattered and ripped, columns broken and rubble everywhere. Only the thrones remained, covered in dust and dirt. Thor's in the center, hers on the left of his, and her mother's throne on the right. Completely intact. Torun dragged her body closer to her father's throne, and laid there, her head buried in her arms, resting on the soft smooth gold. Asgard had indeed been left to die. To be destroyed. Asgard had been alone. Torun had had faith. Faith in her people. Faith in her father. But now her people were gone. Her father was gone. Torun was left alone. So she cried. And she waited. Waited for some survivor to lay a hand on her shoulder and tell her she is not alone. But no one came. And the last princess of Asgard stayed, to become a broken relic, lost in the debris of a fallen kingdom.