The Heavens
Eden
Mountain Biome
Feldis froze, looking skyward.
Old Man. He heard Velk's voice whisper. I got the mead you asked for!
His eyes welled up.
You…you can't die, Old Man…
He bit down, fighting back.
I'm…sorry...I led them back there…I tried to prove they were gone…
His head drooped, and he covered his face as he cried. No sound arose, but his whole being crumbled.
I'm…sorry…
He looked up, as if praying something would bring him back.
Nothing.
Nothing to answer his prayers.
Nothing to undo the loss.
Nothing…to bring him back
I… He thought. I'm sorry, Velk. I know how much I meant to you…but to go this far...no one's worth all this…
Nearby, Metatron slowly rose and his gaze locked on Feldis.
"It cannot be possible…Feldis?" He whispered.
Feldis' ears twitched. He looked over at Metatron, his eyes widening as cracks jutted from the air.
Some appeared on Feldis' fingers and crawled up his hands.
"Metatron? You're alive…and old?" He asked.
Metatron nodded. "I was always older than you…" His feet moved, slowly pulling him towards his lost friend.
Feldis looked down at his hands as a few shards peeled from his fingers. "But now you look like it. How much time has passed since you last saw me?"
"…Over twelve million years."
Feldis deflated, his hands dropping to his sides as the cracks reached his shoulders. "He was alone for that long…did you know?"
He shook his head. "No…had I known he was still here, I would have reached out. I would have done something." He gulped. "Anything. He…did not tell me, and hid under Odin's name all this time."
Feldis sighed. The cracks reached his torso and neck. His hands broke away as the world behind him cracked and shattered, pieces falling away as the false world fell.
"Feldis…I…"
He froze.
"I tried…"
Feldis shook his head. "I know… and despite our best efforts, neither of us succeeded. Our history is lost to time, like so many others, Met."
"But—"
"It happens."
Metatron's breathing grew ragged. No…it cannot be lost! You and the others were butchered! Robbed of the peace Gollnir—everyone died for!
Feldis looked over at him, the cracks now reaching his face and brow. "Like I told Velk: We're gone. You were probably alone for a while, too…" He looked at Siegfried, catching him watching Metatron with concern. "But…I don't think we're all you have anymore? A Son?"
Feldis glowed green. The distant village shattered, and the decimated forest returned.
Metatron took a shallow breath. "My…my son-in-law."
Feldis grew a wide grin. "In-Laws? Oh no…that means grandkids!"
"Not…not yet." Metatron tried smiling.
Feldis lay back, stretched out on the ground. "Here I thought you were too self-critical to find happiness. Do I know your wife?"
"I…never married. I raised them alone. All of them."
"Sounds like something you would do." Feldis felt that familiar sensation. That sense of drowsiness, nay, maybe weariness, compelling him to lay his head down one last time before this nightmare started. "Hey…Met. Are you…still carrying everything…alone?"
"…"
Feldis sighed. Well…guess you're still stuck in the past, too.
His legs and arms shattered.
Don't let what happened to Velk happen to you, too…
He closed his eyes as his remains broke apart and drifted into the same sky.
The false world shattered, and Valhalla returned.
Metatron and Siegfried watched the shards turn to dust, following Feldis and Velk as the former's heart sank into his feet.
Met… Feldis' voice spoke in his mind. You did what you could…
It wasn't enough. I arrived too late…again.
Long Ago…
A younger Metatron walked through that familiar village, Feldis walking next to him. They passed by a house surrounded by the villagers. A child's crying could be heard from within.
"How could you have known Pakkanen would venture out this far? No one's seen him since Ragnarok. Some even thought he died from your last fight with him."
Metatron stopped, then turned back.
"That is the problem with his kind. If they die, nothing is left to prove it. Had I not rushed back to the others, I might have put him down for good."
Feldis turned back and clasped Metatron's shoulder.
"Met, it happens."
Metatron looked away. "Tell that to Velk and his parents."
Feldis shook his head. "Well…I'll tell you this. We'll keep an eye on him. It's not the first time we've lost someone, and it won't be the last. And you…can bring that monster to justice. How does that sound?"
___________
I could not stop Pakkanen... I could not stop Ptah and the others…
Metatron's breathing sped up.
I could not stop Ra…or Velk…I left it to Sieg and…why…why am I relieved?! He felt tears forming. His body ached. All he wanted was the world to just stop.
This is wrong…This is wrong…THIS IS—
*"*Sir…" Siegfried rasped.
Metatron looked back and saw Siegfried trying to smile.
"Not…feeling too great here!"
Metatron shot to his feet and ran over.
"Oh...Oh! Hold on, Sieg!" He yelled, panicking.
"Trying…to, but kind of hard to do…when you can't feel much!" He chuckled. "Ow."
Metatron scooped him like a newborn.
"We will get you to the others. Hold on!"
Metatron crouched down. Two pairs of cyan wings flashed from his back, and he took off. The land below sped by as the pair soared.
"Hey…Sir."
"Yes, Sieg?" Metatron answered, pushing the pain deep down.
"Who…who was that?"
Metatron looked ahead, his anxious gaze softening a little. I cannot let him lose consciousness. The damage to his Runes and Soul from all those attacks…he should not even be alive!
He sped up, but adjusted his hold to make Sieg comfortable.
"His name was Feldis, and he was a friend I lost a long time ago…and the most important person to Velk. Someone so precious, he would undo Creation to bring back."
Siegfried's eyes grew heavy. "…So that's…what you meant. Earlier. How that kind of love…is a curse."
"Yes, and I pray you never know it."
Within moments, they began to descend slowly. Below them, under a few trees, Set popped out and signaled them.
Metatron landed, still carrying Siegfried, and followed.
The trio reached Arthur, sweating profusely over Vidarr's slumped body as the Norse God's back lay against a tree, the glow in his hands dimming. Hades and Michael lay nearby, barely moving; the only sign of life was the occasional groan.
Metatron set Siegfried beside him and knelt beside Arthur.
"Pass it to me," He whispered. "You're worn out from healing me. You've done your part keeping Mike and Hades alive."
"Are you certain?" Arthur asked, breathing heavily. "To have all five pieces back…I'm not sure you—"
"I am tired of losing people, Arthur ap Uthyr. Give me the Dodecahedron."
Arthur shot him a cautious leer, but stretched out his left hand. The glow intensified as a small blue shape flowed from his palm.
Slowly, almost afraid of its presence, he reached for it. Metatron's fingers wrapped around it gently, and it vanished in his grasp.
Something in his soul clicked into place. Then folded, twisted, and rolled. A wave of familiar power coalesced within him as his heart slowed to an even, but rapid, beat.
I…want quiet…
He looked at his next two patients.
But I am deprived of such a luxury…
He stepped next to Vidarr and rested his hands on his brow. Soft, cyan light glowed from his palms and washed over the Norse God.
Arthur stepped away, stopping between Michael and Hades.
Suddenly, the hair on his neck stood on end. Damn it, all…now? He thought. Opportunist.
"Vidarr, can you hear me?" Metatron whispered.
"Y…yeah. But everything feels… like it's spinning and I…can't see…" He answered as the light's warmth enveloped him.
"Runic Overload. If you tried to do any more, it would have killed you." He extended his free hand and covered Siegfried's, releasing the same light. "Both of you gave it all you could. All of you did."
"Is…he gone?"
"…He is…I am sorry."
Vidarr huffed a little. "For what? That monster made everyone's life a living hell…" He choked up a little and tried laughing, but the pain ate it. "Rotten bastard…" Tears fell as his breathing shook. "Good riddance…"
"Rest. I will patch you up shortly."
Vidarr sighed and fell silent.
Metatron felt someone drop beside him.
"Brother," Set whispered. "What now?"
"Triage. I get these two stable, and then we get them all back to Jörð Arena. Then you go home."
Set looked back at Arthur as he scanned the area.
"But…but what about the plan? All of this. Odin. Ra. Even him!"
"He was only on the list because he had the Cube's missing piece. I have it now. He is not a target anymore."
Set looked around, dumbfounded.
"Brother, I know how much you hate him for what he did. I don't think even Odin could elicit such anger. And he's right here! Unarmed, even!"
"Yet, he healed the wound he gave me, kept this little band alive, and gave me the Dodecahedron. Hades, one of the few Gods aware of Ra's madness and the situation around you and Osiris, is alive because of his efforts. Are we to kill him now? After all that he did today?"
"One good day of deeds does not undo over fifteen hundred years of prolonged torment!"
"Maybe not, but you and I would not be where we are, at this second, were he willing to finish what he started fifteen hundred years ago."
"…"
"Once I am done, I need a favor of you." Metatron felt his patients slowly stir back to life.
"I am here for whatever you need."
"What is Arthur doing?"
Set looked at Arthur, still scanning the area as his left hand twitched slightly.
"He's…something's got his attention. I don't know what, but he's on edge."
Metatron's brow furrowed. I knew it was too good to be true… "Then I know what you can do: Grab Hades' Bifrost shard. Once I am done, take these four, get them to Jörð Arena, and go home."
Set paused and froze in place.
"Whatever has him on edge cannot be ignored. We have a better chance if these four are out of harm's way and do not argue."
Set shook a little. "You are mad…"
"I am giving Arthur's concerns credence. Go get the shard."
Set sighed and rose. He walked over to Arthur and stopped.
"I hope you know I am not deaf," Arthur said, growing a wry smile.
"I hope you know I don't care." Set knelt beside Hades and checked his pockets. He pulled out a sharp, rainbow-colored shard and slipped it into his pocket. "He thinks we owe you."
"Oh…you do, Set." Arthur's smile vanished. "You owe me more than you know, most of all for Gwalchafed."
Set stepped back.
"My time in Avalon gave me space to think, Set, and see the bigger picture. It's time you do the same, and focus on what's more important than old debts and poor decisions."
Set slowly turned away and walked back to Metatron. Arthur looked up, his gaze focused.
The glow under Metatron's hands faded as Set returned. He rose and stared into his comrade's eyes.
"They're stable," Metatron answered. "Will you have any issue carrying them around?"
"Four near-death warriors? I've dealt with worse." Set slashed the shard through the air, opening a rift. Then, he pulled out a large tarp and snapped it, suspending it mid-air. "One of the old medical transporters. Forgot I had it on me back in Winchester!"
He knelt, scooped up Siegfried and Vidarr, and gently rolled them on the tarp. "I hope no one sees me, though. Walking around with these four is asking for trouble."
"We are…past that point. I recommend finding any angels within Jörð Arena and telling them it is an order from Gabriel. That should be sufficient."
Set nodded. He walked over to Hades and Michael, lifted them effortlessly, and set them beside his other patients. He shot one last leer at Arthur.
He walked briskly toward the rift, the tarp gliding behind him as it gently enveloped the four and secured them in place.
"Wait," Metatron said.
Set paused.
"I am only here because of the sacrifice you made, Brother. I am asking more of you one last time, though. Please…please get them there safely, and I promise I will never darken your doorstep ever again."
Set looked at the rift, then back at Metatron. A sad smile spread across his tired face, framed by his brand-new, unkempt black locks. "I have a home to go back to, because of you. You and Skeggöld will always have a home in the Duat. On my and Osiris' word."
He stepped through, tarp behind him, and vanished. The rift sealed shut behind him.
Metatron turned around and faced Arthur. The former nodded, and Arthur sighed.
"Well, guess we're not in store for a break," Arthur said. "I could use one."
"You and me both."
"Who…is this?"
"If I had to guess, it was whoever set this all up."
Arthur felt a chill. "I beg your pardon? Set up a fight of reality-destroying proportions? Who could do that?!"
"Only a few, and only one who had enough drive and desire to risk it: My oldest."
"Ariel?!"
"Odin had no idea I was 'Set.' It was not until someone told him that he acted." Metatron
arched a brow. "I imagine he wanted one of us to kill the other, to get his hands on the Cube, or at least a few pieces of it."
"…That makes sense. I only felt it the moment after I passed you the Dodecahedron. It's unpleasant and familiar." Damn all, what a day to come unarmed…
"It may be from your time down in Tartarus."
"I hope so… For what it's worth, I didn't want to pull your attention from them."
Metatron scanned the trees above them, then the brush around them.
"Do not worry about it. The last thing we needed was a surprise attack, so I appreciate the impromptu lookout. Brünhilde is angry enough at me; I do not need Sieg dying to make it worse."
"You and me both!" Arthur turned around, scanning. "A nasty little opportunist, aren't we?"
"He most certainly is."
"I…" A voice echoed from the trees.
The pair turned in that direction and froze.
Floating in mid-air, his shoes barely hovering over the grass, he blended into the background in his black-and-grey tunic and pants. His sickly green eyes bored into the pair as he ran his sharpened nails through his sideswept black hair. He flicked his other hand, and a bright white spear appeared.
"…Do not appreciate the vitriol in your words, but Opportunist would be apt," Zahhak said. "After all, I am the apple of my father's eye, right?"
"Ariel," Metatron snarled.
"Zahhak. I abandoned that name during my time in Damavand." He pointed the spear at Metatron; the latter's eyes widened as he gasped.
"Is…is that Ascalon?!"
"It is." Zahhak's dead stare locked on his father. "I feared you would forget what it looks like since…you know…you gave it to a Human."
Metatron's cyan wings ignited. "How do you have it?!"
"A simple question deserves a simple answer: I took it from that Human's hovel before I cut his head off."
Hurricane-force winds swept through the trees, uprooting them. The ground beneath shook and cracked. The sky darkened as clouds gathered overhead. Lightning arched as the earth trembled.
"You…DID…WHAT?" Metatron's voice reverberated.
"I. Cut. His. Head. Off. Was your time wearing that metal monstrosity ill on your hearing?"
Metatron bared his teeth. "YOU—"
Arthur raised a hand and a wave of calm washed over the area. The clouds overhead vanished as the winds and tremors calmed. "Enough of this. Both of you."
He looked back. "You're volatile, and he knows that."
Metatron shook and clenched his fists.
Arthur looked ahead.
"You're playing with fire. If you're here to kill us, then spare us the torment and be done with
it."
Zahhak…looked taken aback.
"…That was beneath me. Apologies."
Arthur squinted, but kept his footing. Metatron's wings shrank down, but he started floating like his son.
"I am here for my birthright, Arthur. One I had to take back after I was denied it." He raised Ascalon. "I have the quill; I need the ink bottle: The Cube. With both, I intend to rewrite Creation."
"Like Odin," Metatron growled.
Zahhak shook his head. "If I do what must be done, there will never be another Ra, Pakkanen, or Velk."
"Do not associate Velk with those monsters!"
"Denying it will not erase the truth, Father. Though one wonders how you do such a good job of creating these...cancers. Maybe you are one. Like Prometheus, Eris, or Mnemosyne."
"Bite your tongue, Zahhak!" Arthur yelled.
Zahhak flinched.
What? Arthur thought.
*"*I stand by my word. And by my word…once I do what must be done…the rest of these…cancers…will be erased, and the cosmos that allowed them will be corrected."
"You are still on that?!" Metatron roared.
"I am, because nothing you've done ever proved me wrong, Father." Zahhak looked back at Arthur. "Winchester would have never occurred. What happened to your Court? Your people? Your family?" He landed. "I am trying to fix the things he enabled, Arthur. Please trust me. What I am doing will keep another Camelot from happening."
Arthur's hand flexed. "Prevent another Camelot? I'd be game if it were someone else trying something different."
Zahhak…frowned.
Did…Did I hurt his feelings? Arthur thought.
"A shame. I would've thought that chance would be something worthwhile for you. I didn't want you to think I lack awareness of the injustice wrought upon your home."
"Arthur, do not listen to him!" Metatron yelled.
"I can infer," Arthur said. "Zahhak, I don't know why you think I would fall in line with you, but I know where I stand."
Zahhak shook his head. "I guess I should have acted quicker. Having another one of Father's old sins come back and kill him would be perfect. Alas. There are other options." He slashed Ascalon behind him, tearing open a rift. "Arthur, did you know Ascalon is one of the only weapons that can give Primordial Gods wounds that can't heal?"
Arthur's eyes widened.
"I hope you see the implication. It can also do what a Bifrost shard does, but better. It can cut open a rift anywhere to anywhere." He stepped to the side. "Do you see them?"
Arthur and Metatron stared through the rift, seeing a familiar figure run down a translucent rainbow path, a large tarp following behind him.
"Set," Metatron whispered.
"I can kill them all from here. Set does not seem to notice me." Zahhak's face contorted with glee. "What irony! To finally be free after all this time, only to be skewered by his friend's son! It would be so easy!" The smile faded.
"You will not harm them!" Metatron leaned forward.
"Shhhhh. Don't alert them. That's the whole point. Stay quiet, or they will die."
"You think you can get them before I get you?!"
Zahhak shrugged. "Maybe. But one? Two? I have just enough time to kill that many."
Metatron froze.
"Want them spared?" Zahhak extended one olive-toned hand. "Give me the Cube."
"You…yoooooou…."
Metatron shook.
"Violence will not save them. Try anything else to warn them, and I will start killing."
I have the cube back! I can contact Michael! He thought.
"No, Father. Try that, and he dies first."
Metatron gasped. "How did—"
Zahhak shifted his grip to throw. "Read your mind? I didn't. You're just predictable. I am the apple of your eye after all. Ten."
"Wait, Ariel—"
"Zahhak. Nine-eight-seven."
"You are counting too quickly!"
"I didn't warn you I was going to count at all. Six-five-four-three—"
A heavy wave of calm power washed over them.
"Both of you, again, enough," Arthur said.
Zahhak froze, eyeing him cautiously.
Arthur turned back to Metatron and walked over.
"Give it to me." He stretched out his hand.
Metatron looked at him, horror and disgust on his face.
"We're not going to win this time. It doesn't mean the world's ending. He can win this, but the fight that matters? We will win that."
"You…have no idea what he is going to do. What he has to do to make it happen."
Arthur gently grabbed Metatron's shoulder. He could feel his desperation under his grip. "I don't. That knowledge is beyond my understanding, but I know that he must be stopped, and that the risk of doing so is too high right now." He beckoned. "Please. I gave it back to you. Trust me with it right now, and I promise we'll get it back."
Metatron looked away.
"You trusted Siegfried. You trusted Set. People can surprise you."
Metatron sighed. He raised his hand, and light emanated from his palm. From that light came colors of every shade, and shapes of every form. They formed into a single shape: thirteen circles connected by thirteen lines, like a twenty-sided die. Both could see countless shapes swimming in and out.
Metatron passed it to Arthur and nodded.
Arthur turned and walked back to Zahhak, stopping about a meter away.
"Before I give this to you, may I ask a question?"
Zahhak nodded. "Of course."
"Wonderful. Who were you in my court?"