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I
Lif dragged the whetstone over the blackened edge of Sökkvabekkr, ignoring the scraping sounds that resulted from stone meeting metal. He didn’t hear the noise, not anymore.
The only sounds he heard were from his sister’s screams before Hel brought her scythe down around her neck. The last sounds that Sharena… his Sharena at least would ever make.
Unless, of course, he served Hel in her Cohort of the Dead. In order to bring his dead world back to life. he had to destroy other worlds. He had to burn them to ashes, tear them down to their very foundations! Turn them to graves, stepping over those that had been immolated by Thrasir and ripped apart by his own hands.
But he would do it. No matter how much blood was on his hands, how many lives he ripped from the land of the living and dragged into the realm of the dead… into Helheim, he would do it.
He would commit any act, cross any line, bear any sin if it meant getting her back. He would not stop, not until Valhalla itself was torn asunder if that is what it took.
He would get Sharena, his beloved younger sister back, even if it meant that he had to sacrifice every part of his former life to do it.
“Lif, it’s time.” Veronica… no not Veronica, not anymore said softly.
“The dead march for the living.” Lif absently said as he grabbed his mask from where it lay next to him.
Prince Alfonse was dead. Only Lif, general of the Cohort of the Dead remained. He was a warrior, a weapon, and it was almost time to be covered in blood again.
He would succeed, no matter the cost. For Sharena.
II
Lif let the body impaled on his sword collapse to the ground with a soft thud. His red eyes were blank as he absently took in the burning village that was around him.
Just as they had done before, he and Thrasir had faded into the village as if they were mist. One of her hands had been coated in flame while the other loosely held her spellbook, not that she needed it anymore. He hadn’t bothered to sheathe Sökkvabekkr so it was clear that the two had not come in peace.
Not that it mattered, the villagers hadn’t put up much of a fight at all. To their credit though, one did try to take a swing at Thrasir before Lif threw him through the closest wall and one did get very close to hitting him while his back was turned.
He ended their life quickly, they deserved that much at least. It wasn’t every day that ordinary villagers tried to take swings at the Generals of the Dead.
Thrasir had cracked the very smallest hint of a smile as the fist had gone by her head. She wasn’t the most expressive person even before, so he supposed that it was a big deal for her even if he no longer cared much for such things.
Caring, much like pity and empathy, were things that he was no longer sure that he even had.
By the time the ashes settled in the early morning light, there were only three beings in the ruins. Lif, Thrasir, and Lady Hel who had emerged from a small pile of ashes.
The two generals dropped to their knees. “Lady Hel, you honor us with your presence.”
Lif whispered quietly, his voice cold as ice.
“Arise, my warriors. I have a task of utmost importance for you both.” Hel rasped through dead vocal cords; her clawed hands gave small gestures.
“We serve, whatever it is, it shall be done,” Thrasir murmured.
“You are to take my daughter, Eir, and train her to be a weapon. Use any means you deem fit.” Hel faded back into ash, leaving only a charred skeleton behind.
“It shall be done, my lady.” They both muttered at once before disappearing into nothingness as well.
When they arrived back in the ruins of Askr Castle, they saw their princess waiting for them. Eir’s dress had pooled around her booted feet since she had seated herself on the floor. Her long silver hair was loose and not bound in the long ponytail it usually was, her gloved hands ran absently over a dusty tome that she had picked up.
“Princess Eir, we were not expecting you so soon,” Lif said stiffly.
“Mother told me what is required… she wants this done as soon as possible.” The young woman whispered.
“We are at your command.”
She shook her head. “Mother said that I am to take orders from you on the battlefield. I shall comply.”
The two generals glanced at each other but they both nodded. Hel’s will was absolute and they would obey.