Page 78 of Valhalla is Full of Hunks
Stupid feelings…
“And I say the gods won’t take us seriously if we arrive without an army at our backs!” the fire giant shouted, banging a fist on Hel’s obsidian—surprise!—table as the goddess tried to explain her extremely reasonable alternative plan.
Hel had way more patience than me, as she simply sighed and tried again. “Surtr, I understand that the elements of your realm and mine—fire and ice—are in opposition, and when combined, can create and destroy the world. But the army I sent to Ragnarok for Loki is long gone, and I would assume your fire giants are as well. We can only hope that the reappearance of Laevateinn, and the three of you in true form once again—with me at your disposal—will be enough to convince the gods to take our requests seriously.”
I support this plan.
Surt nodded, finally keeping his idiotic ideals to himself, for once. Then a sly smile stretched across his annoyingly handsome face as he turned to acknowledge me for the first time since we’d all shown up for this high-stakes dinner meeting.
“Well, it looks like we won’t be needing the seer any longer,” he smugly announced. “Especially as Fen decided Iola using her powers was too dangerous—rendering her useless.”
ENOUGH!
My chair scraped over the stone floor—like nails on a chalkboard—as I abruptly stood. “Sounds good to me. As long as you won’t let this psychopath end the world”—I nodded at Surt while addressing Hel—“then I am totally fine with hitching the first ride back to the surface.”
Since my work here is apparently done.
I heard Jör whimper and Fen whisper soothingly in return, but I staunchly kept my gaze averted from my men. As much as the idea of leavingallof them felt like a punch to the gut, the way Surt had behaved in the bedroom—how he continued to behave—was the last straw.
Hel’s expression was thoughtful as she observed me for another long moment. Part of me hoped she would argue—that she’d tell me I was a fool to willingly leave these men behind—but deep down, I knew how expendable I was. Their connection to each other was decided by destiny long before I showed up.
And I was only meant to be a temporary guide on their journey.
She nodded once. “Very well. As you were simply fulfilling your role ofdísto these three souls, you are under no obligation to remain in the realm of the dead. But first, we will need your blood.”
Say what now?
Gods knew where she’d been hiding it, but Hel suddenly slapped a massive wooden sword on the table with a resounding thud. Surt dramatically gasped, and it didn’t take Scholarly Sven to decipher that this blade was his new damage twig.
Laevateinn.
It didn’t look as terrifying as I’d expected, and it wasn’t glowing—although just where I got the idea that it needed to be was beyond me. I focused on processing Hel’s request when the blood in question ran cold.
Is she… do they need tosacrificeme to activate the glow stick feature?!
The goddess must have read the fear in my eyes, as she quickly elaborated, “Laevateinn was originally infused with the fires of Muspelheim. But as the only fire giant in our midst seems unable to access his powers consistently… for somestrangereason…”
I couldn’t tell if Hel was honestly confused by Surt’s impotence, or if she’d figured out how my presence played into it—but she had one hell of a poker face.
The fire giant in question grumbled under his breath, but the goddess powered on. “I’m proposing an attempt to activate the sword with shared blood. Specifically, blood from those connected by fate.”
“Like… mates?” Jör asked hopefully, his eyes cartoonishly wide. I could almost see little animated sparkles floating around his head to illustrate his unbridled excitement.
Kawaii Serpent.
Hel smiled kindly. “Yes, I would call this connection a mate bond. There is a common misconception that soulmates only come in pairs, but certain cultures believe in multiple mates for each soul. Some are romantic and some platonic, while others are karmic or simply remnants of past lives. Perhaps it was that I was born with one foot already in the grave, or simply the time I’ve spent ruling the dead, but I’ve developed a knack for sensing these connections. I intrinsically understand how they’re formed, strengthened, and broken.” She paused, presumably for dramatic effect, before continuing, “And such connections arestrongin this group—all around.”
Surt looked confused, but at least he didn’t immediately start arguing with the poor woman again. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully and tried adding to the conversation instead of dominating it. “Upon finding each other in this new world, Ididsense Fenrir and Jörmungandr were important to my journey… and not only because of how we all survived Ragnarok.”
Fen and Jör were both silent, allowing him to say his piece, but I couldn’t resist poking the bear. “Did you think they were important because you actuallycaredabouttheirjourneys as well, or were you only interested in them as ‘marginally useful tools’ to be used along the way?”
The giant scowled, but Hel smoothly cut in. “Yes, your triad certainly shares a bond that spans many classifications, which is what inspired my theory. Therefore, I would like each of you to donate a drop of blood to Laevateinn. I’m curious to see if your combined destiny is enough to reawaken its flames.”
All three men stood, and Hel passed around a small blade which they used to prick their fingers over the blade. As each droplet hit the wooden surface, it sizzled—as if heat were simmering below the surface—and I could feel my unease growing with each passing moment.
I don’t like this…
Once the ritual was complete, we all held our collective breath, but the results were anticlimactic. While Laevateinn was emitting a soft glow, it was nowhere near what I would call flaming.
