Chapter Text
What seemed like hours had passed by as the four fought, no matter how vain their attempts were. And now… well here they were shackled and being watched by two guards, faces bruised and covered in blood. Victoria’s whole body ached and screamed in protest at how long she’d been standing for. And it wasn’t over yet.
Jon Jarl stared them down and sneered. “Take them away from my sight. They’re to remain under house arrest until I finish dealing with this snake.” He turned back around to face Gunnar who was kneeling on the ground, looking ten times worse than the girls. Before either could get a good look, the guards yanked the Soul Riders up and started dragging them towards a little cottage that overlooked the city, marching Anne and Victoria in before slamming the door behind them and locking it. There were two windows near the front of the cottage, giving them a wide, grim view of the trial.
Anne walked over and leaned against the sill. The setting sun illuminated her face in a soft glow, a stark contrast to how she looked. The blonde sighed deeply, fixated on the trial currently taking place outside. “If I’m going to die, they could at least let me clean myself,” she whispered, voice dull and void of all previous fire that was driving her.
Victoria laughed bitterly and joined Anne at the window, watching as the guards grabbed Gunnar and hauled him across a the bridge that connected two watchtowers, a big burly man following them with an axe in hand. The tall warrior that Victoria had previously known looked no older than a teenage boy currently. His eyes were glazed in pain, wide with fear and pleading for freedom. “No one gets to die looking pretty. Especially if they didn’t do anything wrong.” Her voice cracked on the last words as the scene unfolded in front of her.
Faint yelling began from the crowd below. Cries of anger and disgust begging Jon to kill the traitor.
An axe raised, sun reflecting off the metal of the blade.
A set of eyes full of fear quickly cut off of all life as the axe swings down, breaking bone and sinew as it cuts through the neck.
And with that, Gunnar was beheaded. The Jarl had a triumphant look spread across his face and he turned around far too soon. A terrible cracking noise began and lightning flashed across the sky. Slowly, the body of Gunnar rose up, a green flame engulfing him. Despite being very well acquainted with this form of the Headless Horseman, Victoria threw a hand over her mouth, stifling her scream.
In slow motion a chain of events set off. Panic erupted outside and then a large metal object smashed the windows next to Victoria and Anne. “Come with me!” It was Lorensson who’d come to the rescue.
In the distance, Gunnar… No Galloper now, grabbed a flag pole and wielded it above his head, striking down on soldiers who got too close. His mate, Morrigan who now sported her fiery mane and hooves ran up beside her rider. Briefly, Victoria met the mare’s gaze before being hit with a blood curdling neigh from her.
Throwing herself out of the cottage, Victoria followed Anne and Lorensson who were running up to a pair of horses. She climbed up behind Anne and the three started galloping away from the city. Shouts of outrage followed them accompanied by Galloper’s moans and haunting screams; he was no doubt in pursuit of his killers.
It was a long, harrowing ride but they eventually made it out of Jarlaheim and into the Golden Valley. Sunset had long since passed and now twilight rose. The moon shone down on the three escapees, her light guiding their path. For the first time in a while, maybe Aideen was on Victoria’s side.
When they arrived at Muninn Hall, they set the horses loose. Rushing into her bedroom, Victoria hastily threw some stuff around, searching for her journal. In messy writing, she scrawled a quick entry.
Jon Jarl is a liar and murderer. Innocent blood has been spilled under his command, and it will continue to be spilled. Someone needs to stop this monster before it’s too late.
She was about to write more when Anne grabbed her and yanked her away. “We have to leave!” Her eyes were wide and wild. “We have to get back to our time period, now. You saw that portal open, we can recreate it and jump through.”
Desperation was setting in, they had a sliver of hope during that battle. If they stayed they’d surely die. And that would do no one any good.
Tucking her journal down under a floorboard, Victoria ran back to the mail foyer and stripped her clothes, dressing into appropriate clothes for her inevitable journey back. Just as she pulled her boots back on is when a loud slamming began against the door of Muninn.
Lorensson flew around the corner, sword in hand ready to start fighting again despite the back circles under his eyes and the deep set exhaustion in his face. He looked back at the girls, betrayal clear as he saw the faint glow of the Sun circle coming from Anne’s hands. “I don’t know what you’re going to do but I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
Victoria hugged him quickly, mouthing a silent thank you. He nodded in response and began barricading the doors.
Anne’s eyes began glowing as she started chanting under her breath. Victoria joined her, combining their powers together to make the portal as strong as possible. Focusing their thoughts to the present and to their fellow Soul Riders, a rapidly spinning portal began to appear. The green edges grew into a large circle in front of them, growing stronger and steadier, racing against the pounding and yelling that slowly got louder from outside. Just as the barricaded door splintered and broke, allowing the Jarl’s men in, the portal steadied itself and the girls jumped through without looking back. They landed in a soft field of flowers, closing their portal so they couldn’t be followed.
After the opening disappeared, so did Muninn Hall and Lorensson. He fought against the wave of soldiers but one man wasn’t a good match. He held them back for as long as he could, taking one final blow to the head as a guard hit him with the blunt end of his sword, knocking the large viking unconscious.
The Jarl’s men looked at each other, smiled and turned their backs on the “witch’s” house. As they left the building, one grabbed several torches and threw them on the ground and into the grass by the foundations. Fire quickly engulfed the old residence and everything/everyone in it.
Their deed was done.
Jon Jarl was pleased. He’d successfully killed the ones who stood in his way.
As dusk set on the Golden Valley, a dark silhouette rode up the hill, fiery hoof prints being left behind in his wake. The Headless Horseman dismounted his mare, taking agonizingly slow steps forward. Something between a scream and hiss escaped what would have been his mouth if he still possessed a head, and in response a soul rose from the fire that still raged ruin. He beckoned the soul forwards, grabbing his mare’s reigns and led them into the forest, disappearing somewhere along the way as they arrived in the Halls of the Dead.