The exhilaration is too much, but it slowly fades as the root slowly becomes filled with patches of snow here and there. She finally stops when a snow filled field lies in front of her. Sprite flies just past her and suddenly stops and flies back. The both of them look at each other with curiosity. It makes sense so far, Niffleheim is supposed to be the land of frost and ice. Sweiza turns towards her back. She doesn’t see the Yggdrasil anywhere. Curious, she walks several paces back in the direction they came. She still can’t see the tree. Instead she only sees dark mountains in the distance; it is nighttime with more stars in the sky than she can ever remember. She turns back in the direction they were walking and freezes. There are dark cliffs off to her side—they are almost a dark purple—they are capped with snow. This is beginning to look weird. Looking in the direction they were approaching she can see lights far off in the distance. Maybe it is a village or town?

  She freezes when she hears Sprite alert—it is an alert for danger. As she turns around she notes a giant tail moving in the distance. She lets out a cry as her gaze locks with the giant blue eyes of a gaping maw drooling in front of her. She freezes in fear at the massive black head of a wolf in front of her—she is dwarfed considerably by its size. It has to be at least several hundred feet in length. It looks down at her and she lets out a scream. She turns around and flees in terror. Rather, she tries to, but feels her body freeze and she falls over at a wolf’s howl behind her the likes she has never before heard. It tears open the heavens and the ground rumbles under her. Most of her body will not respond as she tries to right up. On her hands and knees she tries to crawl to the mountains in the distance. She sees Sprite fly past her. Another howl. He freezes and drops to the ground. She can hear the sound of massive footsteps behind her. She freezes when she hears panting. She turns around and sees the massive wolf again staring down at her.

  Her body locks up. She can’t die like this, not here. On instinct, she summons all of her might to let out a scream, but it is to no avail. The wolf lumbers up slowly—its maw gaping open the entire time. Its height raises without end as it stares down at her. With her spirit finally broken, she feels powerlessness and helplessness—the likes she has never felt before—wash over her body as her senses dull. She feels overwhelmed. Is she going to be eaten alive? Her eyes widen in terror as the wolf lowers its head at her. It is closer now. It’s eyes study her. It is the first to speak…

  —

  Some time passes between the three as they stare at each other: Sprite hiding in the snow, but still visible; Sweiza half twisted looking up at the wolf; the wolf staring his nose at her, drool coming from his maw at all times. Sweiza finally feels her body go numb from the odd position and finally drops. She turns around and points up at the wolf with her finger.

  “You’re a monster!”

  The wolf blinks at the accusation. It creates something akin to a grin (at least for a wolf) with its teeth as it lets out hoarse laughter that sounds not unlike panting. Its laughter lumbers into something closer to a growl and then a lap of its tongue; its mouth never seems to close.

  “You smell of Grendel, we are both monsters.”

  Anger fills Sweiza’s being. To be compared to that old legend.

  “I know why you are here…” The wolf’s voice is rather hoarse while it speaks. His voice is different—not that Sweiza cares about enchanted creatures at this point.

  “Whatever it is, it is not your concern!” Sweiza points an accusing finger at him again.

  The wolf does something awkward as its body falls backwards as it lays down in front of her; its snout much further away from her now—its front paws just fifteen feet from her.

  “It is your concern when we can help each other.” The wolf’s eyes stare down the girl without any concern, his voice strikes her as that of a cold hearted killer.

  Sweiza is running out of options to distract him; she doesn’t want to be eaten. Maybe playing along will work? What about Sprite? She briefly glances behind her shoulder to see him glowing just out of an indent in the snow—her bootprints no less.

  She crosses her arms and closes her eyes and shakes her head. “What does a monster want with someone half his size?”

  Her dubious behavior is obvious to the wolf as she resorts to paltry bullying—he is unphased by it.

  “There is one like you that came through here some days ago—you smell of her. She helped me… and so will you.”

  Sweiza cocks an eye open at him, still trying to maintain her ‘negotiating’ posture. “Was she a Valkyrie?”

  The wolf again blinks as his tongue licks the top of his maw—Sweiza sees something near his teeth glint in the moonlight. The wolf speaks, “You do know the one called Strife, do you not? You are both Valkyrie?”

  Sweiza’s arms drop and her posture jolts; the wolf is either playing her for a fool or she has been had. She drops the act, “Yeah, I know her. Unfortunately we…”

  She tries to pick up her act again, but the wolf will have none of it. He raises a paw and drops it to the ground. It shakes and Sweiza is left to stiffen up.

  “Do not lie to me woman of steel. Your weapons are useless against me, I can eat you if I so desired.”

  Sweiza feels her body stiffen up at those words.

  “However, I think it is more proper to seek out allies in this world, don’t you agree?”

  The wolf’s bargaining posture is on point—he does have a point.

  “What about it?” Sweiza’s arms cradle—she tries to shrink into herself as she shields herself from the cold. She feels helpless before this otherworldly beast.

  “The Valkyrie that came through here broke the bond you call Gleipnir…”

  Sweiza’s eyes jump up to the wolf’s back paw as it comes up to his neck and scratches the massive collar encircling it. Her eyes stay transfixed on the collar. But then she notices it… the chain. It isn’t particularly large, it is in fact small, but it has signs of being severed.

  The wolf continues, “…she used an enchantment unknown to me. You smell of her; your kind has proven useful to me. I have a proposition to make with you. You will agree to it.”

  Sweiza eyes the chain again. What is he getting at? Her eyes widen at his form. A massive wolf, black head and front feet,his fur slowly changes to a dull grey and then white towards the tail—he would be beautiful if he wasn’t so large. Smaller wolf with a chain? The legend finally clicks.

  “You’re Fenrir; you’re supposed to be a legend!” Her voice comes out in surprise, but she knows she is at a disadvantage here.

  “The one and the same.”

  She points another accusing finger at him, “You are not to be trusted, you bit off Tyr’s hand!”

  The wolf suddenly raises from his sitting position—for such a massive creature, he moves around with speed and ease. He looks down at her, his form blocking out the stars and moon behind him. His voice is loud and rings through the heavens, “The ones you call gods are not to be trusted! They tricked and betrayed me with the imprisonment of this collar that I bore the enchantment of for millennia!”

  Her arms cross and she tries to raise her voice at him, “It’s a legend for a reason!”

  His voice quiets down, “Do not presume to tell me what is fact from legend. I was there. The ones you call gods are fools for their treachery. Tyr’s hand was the price paid for their deception for having imprisoned me… but now that I am free…”

  Fenrir’s form lowers down to her, his mouth almost shut, but just barely—drool still coming out of it. His nose is just mere feet from her—he stares down at his nose at her. “Your friend came through here seeking the Gates of Nifflung. I know of its location. Help me with a small favor, and I will show you its location.”

  “And if I refuse…?” Sweiza stamps her foot in defiance, again trying to refute his bargain.

  “You are not free to go!” The wolf lets out a loud growl at her.

  “Eep!” Sweiza’s fake confidence finally breaks and she lets out one of her hallmarks. She wishes she hadn’t done that. She wishes she hadn’t learned to do that on memory for giggles. Bad, bad, very bad, this is so bad! She’s going to die here!

  The wolf blinks at her again.

  “They stabbed a sword in my mouth to keep me from breaking the chain…”

  Sweiza looks up towards his mouth which is now open again—the glint she saw from earlier; she can see it is something hanging between one of his teeth.

  “…I was a pup then and have since grown. It is impossible for me to remove it. You will remove it for me and I will show you the Gates of Nifflung.”

  The wolf’s eyes study her. Is he demanding or commanding her to do so? Why is he going to help her? Was it Strife’s treachery towards Odin that drove her to do it? Does the Fenriswolf not like Odin? Probably not, he said the gods are fools. However, there is a certain matter at hand…

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  “…you’ll eat me!” Sweiza yells at him.

  “…I will not eat you. You will help me… now.”

  “…and if I don’t?” Sweiza again tries to counter him.

  “…then I will pierce the underworld and your soul with the music of a howl the likes those foolish gods can only dream of. The dead will know you are here, and the gods will know of your treachery. I will then leave you to your fate!”

  Sweiza shakes her head and starts walking towards him. She summons the insulated gauntlet for good measure. The wolf says nothing as he lays down again. Now she has to travel the length of his leg (some distance, too much for her liking) and scale his jaw. The wolf turns his head while lowering it to the ground. Sweiza freezes in fear as both sides of his jaw are open around on either side of her—the wolf’s head rests on its side. His breath is disgusting—his tongue does nothing to ease the situation. His teeth are big, bigger than her. She can see the blade embedded just offset from one of his teeth and into the roof of his mouth. The sword is jewel encrusted at the hilt and made of gold; outside of the Futhark embedded into the blade, it looks rather unremarkable. She grabs the sword, but it is stuck. She tries to wiggle it—the Fenriswolf lets out a breath as he flinches in pain; his tongue moves and makes her nervous. She backs up.

  “Hey!”

  Sprites voice surprises her. He followed her?

  “Dewey, can you help me with this? I don’t think I’m strong enough to remove it.”

  Sprite nods, “I was just about to.”

  Sweiza steps back as Sprite flies up to the sword. He spreads both of his arms wide and a blue light emanates from his form. Water jumps from his form and surrounds the blade. “Try it now”, he says.

  Sweiza looks at him once. He has the abilities of water (among others), so maybe he made it loose by using that? The insulated gauntlet disappears and both gauntlets from her armor appear. She grabs the sword—Fenrir winces again—she pulls hard on the sword with all of her might. She falls backward with the sword while Fenrir suddenly rights himself up and howls in pain. The wolf suddenly backs up and writhes in pain on the ground away from Sweiza and Sprite. Sweiza begins backing up. She takes one look at Sprite. They know what the other is thinking. They suddenly turn off and run in the opposite direction. Sweiza hopes they can find the Yggdrasil and escape, but she doesn’t think it will return. She remembers the legend from Strife—facing away from the roots and the tree will disappear… or something.

  Sprite and Sweiza do not make it very far when the ground under them rumbles. The wolf easily dispatches the distance between them. He bounds ahead of them momentarily and circles. Sweiza freezes. Sprite skids in the air just a few breadths closer than her to the wolf—he darts behind her a short time after.

  The wolf stares down at her and lets out a growl. “Do not take my generosity for granted!”

  Sweiza stares dead-eyed at him; her pupils dilate in fear. She starts to shake. The wolf gives her fear no attention. He flicks his tail once as he walks past her—his massive legs walking over (but avoiding) her. His voice bellows at her, “Follow. I will show you the Gate of Nifflung.”

  A trembling Sweiza eyes the wolf as he walks off into the distance. She eyes Sprite once.

  “He hasn’t eaten us yet…” is all he says to her. He shrugs and follows the wolf.

  For once Sweiza follows Sprite’s intuition. If Strife is this way, she needs to follow the wolf anyway.

  But more importantly, they are moving in the direction of the lights she saw from earlier. Are the gates within a town? Is it similar to the Maw of Loki? She feels enchanted at the idea—for some reason—but still doesn’t trust the wolf. He will supposedly cause Ragnarok. Time will tell… maybe she can figure him out in the meantime… What else is a young adult going to do in the land of ice? Build a snowman? Great idea! Not!

  —

  Despite his large size, his form moves silently into the night—his footsteps make no sounds in the snow. Sweiza is left to wonder about this creature. Her curiosity gnaws at her soul. She trudges forward at a faster pace to catch up and ask a few questions—but Sprite flies in front of her and shakes his head.

  “You don’t understand enchanted creatures… you’ll just make him mad.”

  Sweiza contorts her face at her friend—he knows her too well. Sprite flies in front of her in defiance; she looks away from him.

  —

  It takes about an two hours of walking before they get to the village, only it turns out it isn’t a village. There are houses, but they are dilapidated and abandondoned—many of them have signs of a battle at having been destroyed. Fenrir stops in front of the village and begins circling it. Sweiza makes no attention at it and attempts to walk through the village. Fenrir’s voice stops her.

  “Do not disturb the dead. They will know you are here.”

  Sweiza looks at him. She takes one forlorn look at the village and then complies with the beast’s warning. Walking around the village takes them another twenty minutes. Sweiza is left to scan the village with some curiosity. She notes the houses are quite dim in the pale moonlight, but there is a purple tinge to everything. Is it because of the moons over head? She shakes her head at it.

  She is shaken from her train of thought when Sprite alerts and flies behind her. He points out a shaky finger to the direction of several houses—he lets out a scared click. Sweiza’s head jerks to the direction of his finger. Her chest crawls when she sees something dark moving around and about.

  “Do not disturb them.” Fenrir’s voice scare’s Sweiza as she freezes. She turns around and scowls at him, but it quickly disappears when she sees the wolf’s form. She forces a nod as the Wolf turns around and continues along the village perimeter. Sweiza takes one last glance at the dim figure. She swears it is watching her, but she can’t tell. Why is she so enchanted by the dead? She should be afraid of ghosts! She shakes her head and hurries after Fenrir. Sprite is left there to watch the figure. He clicks in dismay and chases after his friend.

  —

  Around the backside of the village, the Fenriswolf suddenly stops, about faces and looks down at Sweiza. He stares at her eyes-wide open with the moonlight reflecting off of them.

  “This is where we part ways. I have lived up to my end of the agreement.” The wolf again flicks his tail behind him as he walks along the opposite side of the village. She then sees the glint of something off the water… wait, moonlight? Water? Are they at the continent’s edge? Maybe near the Midgard side? That could be it. Why didn’t she pay attention? Oh bad!

  The wolf stops when Sweiza cries out. “Wait!”

  The wolf’s head turns around, giving her scant glance.

  “We’ll meet again right?” Sweiza chooses her words carefully—this might be her last chance. Fenrir may play the part of nobody’s fool, but she has a feeling he doesn’t keep friends at the ready.

  The wolf growls at her, but says nothing. His head turns around, he begins on his way. He again stops when Sweiza cries out.

  “We’ll meet again in two hundred years!” Sweiza cries out with her hands cupped around her mouth. The wolf’s eyes glow in the moonlight, but he says nothing.

  —-

  “Hey!” Sprite’s voice causes her to flit around. He about faces at the sight that was behind them—the reason they are here. Two sets of lanterns illuminating a path of about fifty feet leading to a large cliff outcropping—originally unseen due to Fenrir’s large form. At the end of the lanterns is a set of metal gates—bronze if she is not mistaken—carved into the cliff walls. Looking up she sees the cliff goes up some one hundred feet. The particular cliff it is carved into extends outwards towards the ocean and some distance to her right. Just how far? She can’t tell, it gets too dark.

  She looks at the gates and then to Sprite. “How do we open them?”

  She freezes when she hears a familiar howl. She can still see Fenrir’s shadow from the moonlight. His eyes are glowing as he howls. She sees his mouth open—she can see him reaching up for the moon. As per the legend of Ragnarok, the wolf’s jaws close and the moon disappears with it. She feels her body chill as she starts to freak out. However, just as soon as he howled, she sees him pull his maw away from the moon and walk off—he starts to fade into view.

  She freezes again when she hears a creek and a groan from behind her. She whips around and sees the bronze doors shining with a golden aura—it is quite brilliant.

  “Hey!” Sprite zips around her again.

  “What?” She crosses her arms at him. This had better be goo…

  Sprite flies in a peculiar formation to guide her attention towards something of interest—much like when they hunt. In this case, it is straight up. She looks up—and remembers quite often she doesn’t pay enough attention—another reason she keeps him around.

  Above the cliff and now visible—a rectangular formation glowing the same colors as the gates. Her eyes trace a dimmer form next to it. Light from the dimmer form jumps to it. It looks like a monument, but it is on its side. It looks like something toppled it and it had fallen from its base. There is a strange statue in front of it, but it appears to be missing an arm—the statue is quite small, but still visible. Just what happened here?

  A golden light jumps straight from the monument and into the sky. Sweiza is familiar with this. Is the Bifrost Bridge being summoned again?

  Not quite.

  The light suddenly disappears and the doors suddenly shake. Dust flies up from the gates and dirt falls from the cliff as the doors groan and slowly open. Sweiza’s eyes widen. How many mortals get this chance? Maybe this is a bad idea… maybe Strife is among the dead now? Well, she’s come this far, so she isn’t going to turn back. Strife has helped her up until now!

  She takes several steps forward. However, a circular wall of fire spirals in front of her and takes shape—its Salmira.

  Salmira pushes her glasses up on her face.

  “Miss Serif. These are the ‘Gates of Nifflung’. All of the dead from around the Nine Realms—including further beyond—make there way here as their final resting place. Lady Hella’s domain is not one to take lightly and is much different from your own. I cannot help you once you proceed as her domain is on another continent and shielded.”

  Salmira’s arms cradle as she speaks. Sweiza thought that Hella’s domain was underground.

  “I thought it was underground…” She trails off, knowing she is about to be corrected.

  “Sweiza, it is. The only way to get there is by transport network. Unfortunately, and as I’m sure you’ve seen, the tower that controls this area has collapsed. Odin’s treachery.”

  Sweiza cocks her head at the tower.

  “Bifrost cannot be summoned to Niffleheim. It is necessary to get here by physical means.”

  “…and the statue that is by the monument?” Sweiza squints at it.

  “What you refer to as the Fenriswolf had an engagement with many Sentinels. The monument was caught in the crossfire. A Sentinel knocked into it an toppled it. A shame.”

  “So there are many dead soldiers up there?”

  “Of course.”

  “And down below?”

  Salmira mods while looking at the gates behind her.

  “What about the village?” Sprite flies between them and interjects.

  “Little one, the village was originally meant guard the gates and welcome those that are passing on. It is little more than a ruin at this point…”

  “…but I saw something walking around there…” Sprite will not be deterred.

  “I’m sure it is one of the dead on their way. The gates only open several times a year. However, Fenrir’s howl can energize the monument for brief moments of time. He opened the gates for you. However, I would have done the same…”

  Salmira’s form suddenly disappears.

  Sweiza shakes her head at the display. She wishes the witch would quit doing that. She jumps when she hears Salmira voice nearby.

  “Hurry on your way. You are blocking others.”

  Sweiza suddenly turns around and sees the dim figures behind her. They are the specters from the village!

  She jumps out of the way and they begin walking through the gates. She shakes her head. The line is long. How did they all get there? Did they randomly appear? Some of them look at her curiously, albeit briefly. They continue on their way. Some are missing an arm. Was it from a battle? She sees a few children walking among them. She then sees two familiar figures—Delphis and Alcyon! Delphis stops in front of her. He glares. Alcon gives her a pecular scowl. The figures behind them usher her on. She waits for everyone to walk in. She counts the time and figures walking by. She reckons several thousand, if not ten thousand. Just how many people entered? How many have died since the gates have last opened?

  She feels faint when she sees the familiar sight of legend—a black hound trailed by the Grim Reaper—his familiar scythe and outstretched lantern are unmistakable. She watches in dismay as he leads the group into the doors. The doors suddenly groan and begin closing. Sweiza suddenly looks up at Sprite. They both bolt in after the black cloaked form. It looks back at her once, but doesn’t give her much attention.

  Outside the gates groan and finally clang shut. The clang echoes and reverberates throughout the cave corridor. Sweiza and Sprite eye each other and the entourage ahead. Just how long will this journey take? Hopefully it won’t be for very long!