Chapter 10: Together Forever

Odin sat upon his grand throne, his golden armor gleaming under the ethereal light that bathed the halls of Asgard. At his side stood Frigg, regal and graceful in a flowing gown of shimmering sky-blue silk, the fabric catching the light like the morning frost. Her presence alone commanded admiration, but her sharp gaze held a wisdom that surpassed mere beauty.

Along the crimson-carpeted hall, Asgardian guards stood in rigid formation, their spears glinting as they kept silent vigil. The air was thick with authority, yet it was soon disrupted by the hurried approach of a warrior.

The doors burst open, and a blonde-haired man clad in gleaming blue armor strode in, his steps heavy with urgency. A mighty hammer was strapped to his side, its weight doing nothing to hinder his movement. He halted before the throne, breath steady despite his haste.

"Father," he called, his voice edged with concern. "A god seeks an audience with you."

Odin's single eye regarded his son with measured calm. He gripped his staff a little tighter. "Let them in," he commanded.

The room fell into an expectant hush as the great doors swung open once more. A figure stepped inside, clad in black, gold, and white, the regal contrast of his garments exuding authority. His movements were deliberate, his presence commanding. As he pulled back his hood, amber eyes shone beneath the dim torchlight, gleaming like molten gold.

A flicker of recognition crossed Odin's face. "If it isn't Morax," he said, his voice carrying a rare note of respect.

"It has been some time," Morax replied, his tone even but firm.

Odin leaned forward slightly, his single eye sharp as he studied the god from Teyvat. "What business brings you to Asgard?" 

Morax's expression darkened, his next words weighted with significance. "I come bearing a message from the Heavenly Principles."

At that, Odin exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with the weariness of ages. "And what is their decree this time?"

Morax met his gaze unwaveringly. "A prophecy."

A ripple of unease passed through the room. The last prophecy had plunged Asgard into war against the giants, a battle that had scarred their realm. And now, another?

Odin rubbed his temple, his patience thinning. "Go on."

Morax's voice was steady, yet it carried the weight of fate itself.

"Ragnarök."

The word hung in the air like a stormcloud, its presence suffocating. The guards stiffened. The hall, once grand and imposing, now seemed eerily silent.

.....

The wind whispered through the trees as Fenrir gazed out the carriage window. Birds soared above, their wings cutting through the sky, while animals darted through the underbrush. In the distance, rivers snaked through the land, their waters glistening under the light. Yet, beyond the trees, hidden in the shadows, monsters lurked—silent watchers observing their passing.

Then, for the first time, a shiver ran down Fenrir's spine. What the hell was that? he thought, his body tensing at the unfamiliar sensation.

Shaking it off, he turned his gaze to Rose, who had fallen asleep beside him. Even in slumber, dried tears stained her cheeks, a silent testament to her grief. A weight settled in his chest—an emotion deep and unfamiliar. Why? The gods watched all of this unfold, yet they did nothing. They let this happen. Fury burned within him.

His eyes flickered to Aria, who sat by the window, lost in thought. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Aria… can I ask you something?"

She turned to him, her expression weary. Grief still clung to her like a shadow, but his words stirred a flicker of surprise.

"So, you can talk." She reached out, gently patting his head. Tears welled in her eyes once more.

Fenrir hesitated before speaking, his voice low but firm. "If the gods exist… why do they let this happen?"

Aria wiped her tears away, her gaze distant as she searched for an answer in the silence.

"I thought I knew," she murmured. "I had faith in my goddess… but now…" Her voice trailed off, heavy with doubt.

Slowly, she reached for the pendant around her neck, opening it to reveal a tiny picture of her family inside. Her fingers brushed over it gently, as if afraid it would fade away.

"I just hope I'll see them again in the heavens," she whispered.

Darkness coiled around Fenrir, a swirling chaos whispering in his ear, urging him toward destruction. The voices slithered through his mind, feeding on his grief, his fury. If he had the power, he would unleash it—tear apart the very heavens he now cursed.

Then Memories flooded his mind, pulling him back to the moment everything changed.

"Brother, these fish are so cool! Oh, look—a sea turtle! It's so cute!" She giggled, eyes sparkling with pure joy.

That joy had been stolen far too soon.

Tears burned his eyes, his chest tightening. She had been just a child—so full of life, so undeserving of death. Yet the heavens had taken her anyway.

Grief twisted inside him, raw and searing, until it became something more. Rage. A storm brewing deep within, wild and uncontrollable. His body trembled, energy surging beneath his skin as his heartbreak morphed into fury.

Rose stirred awake and instinctively pulled Fenrir into her embrace, her arms warm and steady around him. The storm of rage inside him slowly started to quiet, like a fading thunderstorm. His body still trembled, the aftershocks of fury clinging to him, but her soft, rhythmic pats on his back grounded him.

"It's okay," she murmured, her voice a gentle balm. "Don't cry, Fenris. We'll be together forever."