We Will Dance With The Dead [Máni]

[Lief]

​

[After The End Of The World]​

​

So many had fallen in the Battle for Tháinbroek.

None had struck quite so hard as the loss of Dawnbringer, High King of Midvinter. Blood stained the snow even now, in the days following the battle, a pink mush which crunched underfoot. Overhead the cry of carrion could be heard, while Andöryn perched atop sword pommels which marked fallen warriors.

It was through this battlefield that Snowstrider walked, her eyes trailing over the discarded helms, swords, shields, which had been forgotten in the aftermath of battle. Then her gaze fell upon the pyres which continued to burn even now. Valkyri and Vinterbound alike burned within, much to her despair; it was true what many said, all were equal when dead.

Only a select few had been taken aside for proper rites, her Grandfather included. It was unfair, unjust, yet she realized the necessity. They could not afford for native predators to come sniffing around and making off with limbs, that would be far less honourable. And besides, they couldn't risk more of the dead rising.

This world already had too many Vinterbound.

Her hand clutched at her hand-and-half sword which barely managed to avoid being dragged along in the snow through sheer willpower alone. Fear had gripped her by this point, and while it had been several days since the battle ended she could still see visions of the Vinterbound in the corner of her eyes and felt certain that they would jump out from around every bend, from behind every building.

Her blood boiled at the very thought of them.

She would kill them.

She would kill them all.

[member='Máni']

 

[Vakarian]

It was not often that Máni found himself in the more central area of Midvinter, let alone within view of Tháinbroek itself. He was from the far Northwest, from the village of Reykjaa. He did not often make the journey to Tháinbroek, but many had heard the tales of the Vinterbound attacking the seat of the High King and many had come to see the fate of Midvinter; Máni was among those that had come.

The young acolyte of Helm had felt the call of the Gods to the seat of the High King, and he would always heed their call. He was no stranger to the cruelty of the Vinterbound, having lost both his mother and father to their unquenchable thirst for death.

Even still, he was not expecting the devastation that awaited him outside the city gates. Glacial eyes fell upon hundred upon thousands of bodies littering the snow caked ground, and his heart fell as he saw the many faces of dead Valkyri men and women. Many children and families would be without Mothers and Fathers, Sisters and Brothers, Daughters and Sons and even some whose family was decimated entirely.

His eyes found many carrion birds feasting on the bodies of the dead, and in response Máni unleashed minor bursts of kinetic force that frightened away the scavengers. The dead deserved to be left in peace, not fed on by birds like a common criminal. Many who died in battle would reach Béornskald.

As he stepped further into the battlefield, stepping over the dead gracefully and with a silent respect, his mind was assaulted with intense feelings of hatred and anger and a feeling of fear nearly overshadowed by the force of the anger. He carefully scanned the battlefield until his eyes zeroed in on the source.

A feminine figure with hair as white as the snow itself and a skin tone to match. He could not see her face, but even so he knew that she could be a danger both to herself and him. Anger was a sure way to regret later.

"Your anger is as potent as the flames from the pyres." his words were carefully chosen, and measured with an even tone. His glacial eyes softening slightly.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

Cloak was pulled tightly around her as she broke from the City gates and out among the exterior battlefield. Here the dead still remained, though there were men and women tirelessly at work dragging them into carts in order to bring them to the pyres. She did not envy them their job.

Sulking a path toward the outlying forests, Mysa felt her fury rise and bubble until tears pricked at her eyes. It was horrible, it was all so wrong... But she realized, in the same breath, that it could have been far worse. She did not know whether to praise the Gods or curse them. She'd never forsake them, however. It was okay to feel frustrated, it was okay to be upset in the face of loss.

Her mind raced back to the morning of the battle, when she and Théo had ventured to find the herd of Vhaanir. Belawir, the young hart, had found them, had spoken to them. She still wasn't certain it was real... Which was funny considering out of the two it was Mysa who had always been a firm believer, and Théo who had doubted. How the tables could turn.

She wanted to demand answers from them in that moment, from the Gods who had allowed such a blight to be borne, and to continue to exist, but Mysa knew that Belawir and the rest of the herd would not be there. Besides, what use would there be in yelling at the Vhaanir? This was not their doing.

Feeling downright exhausted, and realizing that she ought to head back home soon where the others were mourning, Mysa could not help but jump to the sound of a cautious voice which inadvertently warned her against her anger.

Turning on her heels, Mysa glanced to the man and all at once her rage melted into embarrassment and shame. She knew better than to let her emotions get the better of her like this.

"Forgive me" she whispered, before glancing around at where they were, stood among the bodies. Grief was a horrible emotion to contend with.

[member="Máni"]

 

[Vakarian]

Máni watched silently and thoughtfully as the girl turned to face him, and he met her gaze with a warm and friendly smile, most definitely in high contrast with the atmosphere of the battlefield. He knew to some degree, what the girl was feeling inside, she had the same look that he had seen many times over on himself when he looked in the mirror and thought of his parents.

She had a look of loss and pain about her, a look that was echoed in the feeling that she exuded in his mind. The Gods had gifted him with the ability to read people's souls and often times it had come in handy remedy the suffering of others.

It was with this in mind that he spoke to her softly, "Grief is nothing to be forgiven for. I lost my own parents to the Vinterbound, who did you lose?[

The girl was plagued by the memory of the Vinterbound, that much was clear on her face. This past battle must have been her first experience with the Vinterbound, and those dark creatures could leave a lasting impact on the unprepared.
[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]

 

[Lief]

She knew just by looking at him that he wasn't from Thainbroek. He hadn't been apart of the battle, and likely hadn't lost anyone to the Vinterbound this time around. Mysa might have called him lucky, until he spoke that was. The smile was definitely deceiving given his past experiences; Snowstrider couldn't help but wonder how he managed to seem so positive.

Maybe it was just that the loss of Thrand was more than fresh in her mind.

While it hadn't been her first interaction with the Vinterbound this time around, she would be foolish to say it hadn't affected her as much as the first run in. There she had only witnessed one confrontation - her own - whereas this time it had been a blood bath.

Age didn't help to dampen her fear. She could have been 8 or 80 and the effects would have remained the same.

"Thrand" the girl whispered in response to his question, "I lost Grandpa Thrand..."

It had taken her a long time to see Thrand as her Grandpa over her King. He had been her Guardian for a long time when she first came to Midvinter, during the waiting process that brought Thurion and the Heavenshields into her life. He had been everything to her, a rolemodel, the first person to truly see her as a human being instead of an experiment.

It wasn't just her Grandpa they had taken, it wasn't just her Guardian or her King... It was her idol. She had thought he was unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with.

But all men must die.

It was a reality which made her extremely depressed; Mysa only hoped it would be a very long time before she lost either of her Papa's to the same fate.

[member="Máni"]

 

[Vakarian]

Máni watched the girls reaction carefully and silently, searching her features for some hint as to what she was thinking. She hid it well, for there was little that he could glean from her other than whosoever she lost in the battle was dear to her, likely family by the terrible look of loss swimming in her eyes. A fact that was confirmed no less than a moment later by her very own words.

Thrand?

The name rang in his mind like a distant recollection coming forth from the fog of memory as swiftly as a bolt from a blaster. The High King, Thrand Dawnbringer, was dead; killed by the very beasts that killed his own parents.

A deep and burning hatred rose in him, causing his own presence among the two to tremble with a barely contained rage, unleashing feelings of anger and hatred as tidal waves into the atmosphere.

But, he was careful to contain his rage, especially in front of the woman. How much more would the Vinterbound take from the Valkyri people? How much more could they take from them?

Angered thoughts flowed through his mind without end, at least until he realized that he had never acknowledged the woman's words.

"The Valkyr will mourn this loss. But, our pain will be nothing as yours will be. May Helm bring his justice upon the creatures that killed our King, your grandfather." he took a knee before the woman and bowed his head slightly. Whether she was pure royal, or not, she was the granddaughter of the late High King.

The Gods were fickle beings, taking those they deem worthy and leaving behind a sense of pain that echoed in the hearts of the mortals. Máni could see that pain in the girl as well as the grief that was threatening to overtake her.

"I do not have words to ease your pain, but I have the certainty of knowing that your grandfather shall reach Béornskald." it was clear that he didn't know how to ease the grief of the girl across from him, as he turned his gaze to meet her face, still kneeling in front of her.
[Member=Mysa Snowstrider]

 

[Lief]

She was barely there at all. Several days to process it, and still she was fumbling around like an idiot for... Something. An answer, a reason, anything. Being out here, among what remained of the dead, wasn't enough though. That much was obvious. She just didn't know how else to approach it.

For a second she felt the man's own anger flare, causing a flash of recognition and consciousness in her eyes. She turned her head toward him, blindly staring into the depths of his gaze in hopes of yielding a reason for his well reserved burst of rage.

It took but a moment more for her to realize why, as the man took to a knee as though she meant something. He had deciphered who it was she had lost, who the whole of Midvinter had lost. But her relation to the High King was nothing special, certainly nothing to be kneeling in icy blood for. She was just Snowstrider. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Please, don't..." she muttered, trying to urge him into rising yet again. Colour flooded her cheeks as embarrassment gripped her. At least it was a change from grief, though just as unwelcome a sensation.

The thought of her Grandfather being somewhere better than here soothed her upset spirits a little, but it didn't ease her own feeling of loss. Knowing he lived on elsewhere didn't bring him back, it didn't let her say all the things she should've said before it was too late.

That thought brought pinpricks of tears to her eyes, forcing the Umbaran to turn away slightly. She would not be that weak.

"I thank you for your kind words" came her whispered response to all he had said. "Could... Would you accompany me back to Thainbroek?" She could take these sights no longer, the taste of death which lingered in the air. It was suffocating.

"What is your name?" she quickly asked, having quite forgotten her manners in all of her fretting.

[member="Máni"]

 

[Vakarian]

The Vinterbound had ceaselessly taken something from the Valkyri, whether it be a loved one or one's very home. Even still, the people survived and stood against the dangers of the planet, if that was not a testament to their strength and resilience, then he didn't know what was. It was a piece of the reason that he had chosen the path that he had, for often the Valkyri turned to Helm in their times of need, and in return the god often answered their prayers and requests through indirect means; he had seen it far too often to believe otherwise.

It was because of this that he was able to find the strength to continue on and honor his mother and father through his actions. He had dedicated himself to Helm in both life and death, effectively becoming the embodiment of the god, self proclaimed of course. His soft glacier eyes glanced up as the granddaughter of the High King spoke, a gentle smile beginning to light in the depths of his gaze.

"Forgive me, my Lady." his voice even and slightly submissive. It wasn't that he felt lesser in relation to the granddaughter, he was just affording the same respect that he would afford any noble, whether fully noble or otherwise.

Through the gift of his Gods, he could feel her sense of grief and loss. He knew too well the grief that followed the march of the Vinterbound, for it was the march of death and promise of destruction. He had felt it the day that he lost his parents, and he was feeling it again at the loss of his king. He felt it further through the girl across from him, and even word would not curb the loss that she felt.

A thought that was confirmed in the girls words. He listened and nodded at her words of thanks and a brief smile passed across his gaze as she asked him to accompany her into Tháinbroek.

"Of course, my Lady. " his words were simple, clear and respectful. He knew that if left unsettled, her grief would gnaw at her very being, a fact he knew from personal experience. He had dedicated his life to Helm and his justice, and through his chosen path, he had found some measure of peace.

He turned his attention back to her, as he stood finally, and turned towards the capital to follow her.

"My name is Máni, my Lady. I once belonged to the Shield-Arm clan, but when my parents were killed, I relinquished my claim to the name in service to Helm." his words growing softer as he spoke of his parents. He had loved them, and now he was the last of a long and ancient line of Valkyri Warriors and Shield-Maidens.

[Member=Mysa Snowstrider]

 

[Lief]

If the Valkyri, nay the Galaxy, had seen some of the things she and Théo had during the recent battle, there would be no denying the existence of the Old Gods. She had sat astride a Vhaanir alongside her brother and watched as the battlefield had been bathed in a radiant gold light while the Vinterbound crumpled and returned to their previous forms. Redeemed of their indiscretions.

The Gods were real, they would never not be real, she had heard the voice of Helm through Belawir... Something she knew Máni would find intriguing. But she could not speak of it not. She wouldn't. It wasn't her place, and there was too much loss surrounding it all.

"My name is Mysa" she said, chewing on the inside of her lip, "not My Lady..."

With that came a tightly concealed smile that twitched at the corner of her lips, but it was short lived. Her gaze fell back to the gates, which had suffered quite a beating from the Vinterbound and their giant titan of a leader. It was there that Thrand had suffered greatly, there that he had fallen.

Offering down a hand she urged him back to his feet.

"Máni... A man of the Gods, it's good to see that I am not alone in my piety even at such a dark hour." She knew many would curse the Gods in the coming months, blame them for what they had endured, but she and Théodred knew the truth. She had seen first hand how they had intervened to wipe the City of Vinterbound.

Together they began to walk toward the gates. Mysa kept her gaze high, her resolve a little shaken by the sight of all the chaos and death. She doubted it would be something she'd ever get used to, no matter how many times she stepped onto a battlefield.

[member="Máni"]

 

[Vakarian]

Ah, so the granddaughter of the late High King was a devotee of the Gods as well. Mysa, as she had recently stated was her name. It was evident by the way that she reacted to his adherence to her higher social status that she was uncomfortable with the respect that she should be afforded. She wasn't the first noble he had met that didn't lay claim to a self entitled ego. That much in of itself spoke volumes to the man about the girl beside him.

Her words were not lost to him, rather his attentions had been taken by something different. His gaze had fallen on the gates leading into Tháinbroek, gates that had long withstood the elements and forces that sought to break them; the Vinterbound had done so.

The devastation was not limited to the battlefield outside the city, rather the appearance of the gates suggested the battle had reached into the city. The larger Valkyri man suppressed a shudder as they drew closer to the gate and he could feel a lingering sense of death. As if to reinforce his suspicions, he turned his gaze to [Member=Mysa Snowstrider] and took note of her unwillingness to look at the devastation to the gates.

This led him to the conclusion that Thrand had fallen there, thus the sense of death that lingered close to him. He paused as they neared the gates and knelt silently on the ground with a sense of reverence and a softness to his gaze that echoed in his words.

"May you find your rest in the Halls of Odiir. May you rise and join our anscestors in the realm of the gods. May your reign long echo in the hearts of our people, Thrand Dawnbringer, Lord of the Valkyr; bringer of hope." he rose from his position on the ground and continued his intended path silently. He did not look to the girl he accompanied to see if she followed, but he hoped that she would overcome the loss that she felt.

As the pair passed through the threshold and into the city proper, Máni truly found himself at a loss. The creatures had managed to make it far into the city, and the loss of life was innumerable. The pyres burning Valkyri and Vinterbound alike, the honored being burned with the redeemed. The Vinterbound had once been honored warriors, from a long forgotten time; redeemed by the fire that would carry their trapped souls to their respective places among the Gods.

 

[Lief]

[Sorry this is so late, I've been babysitting ontop of babysitting the past few days]

Mysa did not see herself as a noble. Despite the fact that her papa now sat in the place that her Grandpa previously had, she didn't see herself as any different. She was Mysa. She was the outsider who had been named Snowstrider by the late King. And she always would be. So hearing herself referred to as anything other than Mysa - or Wriggles, or Snowstrider - made her feel a little uncomfortable.

Not that he knew that.

They moved closer to the gates and Mysa's resolve strengthened as she made sure not to look upon them directly. She wouldn't, couldn't. She had been through enough in the past few days, witnessed her first funeral, the pyres en mass. It was not something she needed reminding of, it was constantly on her mind.

Máni paused and knelt in the snow as they neared the gates themselves, and began a prayer to the former High King of Midvinter. Her eyes welled up at the sound of his words, guilt bubbling up within her. There had to be something she could have done to save him... She looked away and waited for him to be done.

And once he rose back up she walked in silence through the City back toward the Great Hall.

She felt sick, the scent of burning wood and bodies still evident within the air. Part of her wanted to turn and flee all over again, to avoid the City, but she knew better than to do that. Her whole family was grieving, her mother close to labour, she could not leave them now.

The soft patter of feet drew her attention, as did a raised voice in the distance. Both were approaching at a faster speed than she anticipated, and in no time at all baby Felix was at her feet while a man brandished a blade before them both.

"Damn Frir!" he spat in the direction of the Frir cub, "Can't leave the dead alone!"

Mysa simply leaned down and scooped the cub into her arms, the tiny thing began to purr and nuzzle up against her.

"He's just a baby" she told the man, "and he's not to be harmed."

Felix was her companion, no doubt he had left her room and come out into the streets to find her. Already they had a very strong connection, considering she had only found him on the eve of battle. She very much doubted that he had been so much as sniffing near any remaining bodies, much less desecrating them.

The man, neither recognizing or caring about who Mysa was, stood his ground, sword clutched in one hand.

"There's been enough bloodshed here. Go home."

[member="Máni"]

 

[Vakarian]

[ Real Life comes first and foremost. You're an admin as well, you are often busy. Take your time, I am a patient person. ]

The smell was something that one could never get used to, even the most vicious of warriors would be unable to stand the stench of burning flesh and wood. Máni had not had to endure the smell for quite some time now, having not had many more encounters with the Vinterbound since his parents' death. A tragedy which gave him a common bond with [Member=Mysa Snowstrider], a tragedy through which he knew how she was feeling. His icy gaze passed over the burning pyres within the city, taking note of just how many losses the people have suffered at the hands of the Vinterbound. Innumerable amounts of families had been shattered and broken like his had; through the loss of a mother, a father, a son, a daughter -or in Mysa's case, a grandfather.

His eyes flashed dangerously when he heard angered calls, and his gaze shifted to Mysa and a frir cub. His gaze then turned towards the man who was the source of the anger, and he watched in silence as he brandished a sword in front of his companion and her little friend. She told the man that the frir cub was not to be harmed, and yet the man seemed to dismiss her words as nothing. He noted the look of defiance in the man's eyes and strode up behind the girl, to her left, and paused as she told the angry one to leave. There was some truth to her words, there had been more than enough bloodshed.

The Valkyr found himself wondering how his last acquaintance, Einarr Warscream -- [Member=Darth Ragnarok], would have responded. A rueful smile edged upon his lips as he contemplated how the blacksmith would have reacted; no doubt blaming the Heavenshields for the loss of so much. A soft and silent chuckle echoed through his core at the thought before he turned back to the current situation in front of him. The man still had not heeded the words of Mysa, and that was dishonorable, made doubly so by the brandishing of his sword threateningly in front of the girl.

Máni decided it was time to intervene, and he stepped forward, forcing the man to take several steps back as he placed his large form as a buffer between his hostility and the Lady Snowstrider. "The lady has asked you to leave with good will, and you respond by brandishing a sword in front of her and blatantly dismissing her words. You have dishonored yourself today." his words were simple and Frank, but spoken with an icy edge to them.

"You will do as the Lady requests and depart in peace. Your people's blood stains the ground and you raise your sword against another." he paused allowing his words to sink in, "Leave before you dishonor yourself further."

He finished with a hardened of his eyes into a concealed anger and an aura of power. He wasn't much for intimidating another being, but he had a feeling this man would not acknowledge him otherwise.

 

[Lief]

It took all her will to accept Máni's protection instead of tending to her own battles, but she knew better than to potentially humiliate him by telling him to stand down too. Instead she clutched Felix close to her chest and took one slight step backwards in order to better watch the scene play out and help should things turn sour.

Thankfully the man seemed to come to his senses, resheathing the sword and turning away with a scoff and some vulgar language. It made Mysa feel sick to the pit of her stomach, to see Valkyri so tense, so full of grief, but what could she expect? Was she not experiencing the exact same symptoms brought about by the battle?

Only when the man was out of sight did she let out the breath she had been holding. One hand reached out to settle on Máni's upper arm. "Thank you" she whispered, genuinely grateful despite the lingering need to prove herself and not cower behind others... She supposed that was something which would come with time, though, knowing when to let others step in and when to deal with things all by herself.

"But I'm not a Lady..." She smirked slightly, allowing herself just a brief moment of respite and humour amidst all the chaos. So she was a girl, sure, and she lived with the new King, and had lived with the former King, but a Lady? Pfft, Mysa was so far from Ladylike these days that she made many of the greater Galaxy's ordinary men question themselves. At least, Théo would say as much she had no doubt.

Finally beginning to move again through the streets, a little bit on edge and watching for anymore hostile figures this time, Mysa turned her gaze toward Máni for a moment, somewhat curious.

"How long have you been travelling for, Ser?"

She couldn't help but wonder when the last time he'd had a good meal was, or the shelter and warmth provided by a building insteadof a tent or covered wagon. The Great Hall wasn't too far now, perhaps they could break their fast together to show her thanks... But all the same she didn't quite feel ready to enter her home.

[member="Máni"]

 

[Vakarian]

The taller Valkyri reverberated with inward laughter as the Lady Snowstrider corrected him on his use of the term "Lady" in correlation with her. It was not clear beforehand, but not as he noted the way she spoke and carried herself, it was dawning on him that she did not consider herself to be any higher than a regular common member of Valkyr society; or at least that was how it seemed to be looking at her from a complete strangers perspective. How she felt about herself, he could only guess, if she was uncertain or did not have high confidence -- she hid it well.

"[color=1eb4aa]The term is not meant to offend, Lady Snowstrider. It is a term of honor and one that you should be proud to bear. The maidens of the Valkyr are a great warriors,[/COLOR]" his words fell short as his gaze turned towards the snow-capped mountains beyond the walls of city, as if staring towards some hidden memory or place. In truth, the devotee of the Gods was remembering his mother and her valor in battle. He was fairly young when they died, not yet old enough to wield a sword of his own, but he still remembered their valor in battle and their hard won ascension to Branjaskr.

"[color=1eb4aa]My mother was Lady of the Shield-Arms, an ancient family dedicated to defending the north and west from the constant threat of the Vinterbound. She was proud to be referenced as "Lady". It is a title of honor and prestige, and in your case, one that is yours by birth. You have a valor in you, we all do, you have only to find it and then you too will see that the term is one of power and strength.[/COLOR]" He wasn't sure that he was making much sense to the young woman, but in his mind he knew what he was trying to say; hopefully she would too. He had never really been the utmost best at formulating what he was thinking into a coherent sentence that properly got his point across.

He turned his gaze once more upon her, his softened icy gaze settled on her own, as she asked him a direct question. He had been travelling for a good while, at first with the Lady Astrid Stormguard and the reputable Einarr Warscream, but he had not heard anything of them in quite some time. He had been travelling on his lonesome ever since then, choosing to wander the paths of the icy wilderness in search of an ancient family legacy that had been lost to him. Rumors carried him across the expanse of the Kingdom and yet he had still found no trace of the ancient fortress, but he had not yet fully given up. The capital would be as good a place as any to find any remnants of the memory of Shield-Arm Stronghold, if nowhere else knew where it lay, the capital would.

"[color=1eb4aa]I have been travelling for many months now in search of an ancient family legacy. My journey has carried me over mountain and stream, labyrinthian forests and barren wastes. I have come to the capital to search the records for any mentions or memory of the location of what is left of my families legacy. It is fortunate that I arrived after the battle, though it is unfortunate that I missed my chance to further rid our realm of the icy dead.[/COLOR]" his words were frank and simple. He did not bandy around with hidden truths or falsites, there was no need. She had asked, and he had answered, perhaps giving her more than she had indeed asked for.

[member="Mysa Snowstrider"]