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The Gods Have Fallen

by Maurice D. Winterborn about a year ago in fan fiction
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Ragnarök had begun, the end time, the Apocalypse. The impending doom had been hanging over Midgard for some time now. A creeping darkness, from deep in a far off nether realm had laid siege to Asgard. The entity had already destroyed seven of the nine realms, killing billions and damaging Yggdrasil, the mighty World Tree. Odin was desperate, the warriors of Valhalla and his Valkyries were decimated and his fellow Aesir were being slaughtered. In this time of anguish, Odin had called for help from the other gods that protected this world. Zeus and his Olympians, the Shinto gods and the old gods of Egypt. None could stand against the otherworldly entity, each one would fall in time.

The only warrior left standing on Midgard was Ulf Baldrson, demi-god, son of the Norse god of light, Baldr. The people of his village called him Valhallan, for his prowess in battle and loyalty to the gods. He stood before the mighty Yggdrasil, fighting tooth and nail against the darkness’ apostle, a demonic warrior by the name of Ashes. Ashes was a monster, standing at near seven feet and covered in diamond-like scales. He looked barely human as he smiled, showing his many crooked fangs. ‘Why do you continue to fight, half breed, can you not see that that your ridiculous efforts are for nought?’ Ashes mocked, slowly walking towards the panting warrior.

Ulf stood boldly before the invader, gripping his battleaxe tightly. His armour was dented and covered in his father’s blood. Ashes had been the one who had slain the god of light to weaken the barrier so the darkness could enter, and Ulf was there to witness. Most demi-gods had no time for their Midgardian children, however, Baldr was different, he loved his son, and Ulf loved his father. Seeing his father die had broken Valhallan, he tried his best to save him but to no effect, Baldr had been the first Aesir to meet that dark fate.

‘Silence, monster, I will fight, and I will win, for the sake of Midgard!’

Ashes laughed, mocking the demi-god. The monster looked up, staring at Asgard high up at the top of the World Tree. He continued to smile as he saw the enveloping darkness consume the realm, dragging it down into an endless abyss. ‘Your world is doomed, child, eight realms have been destroyed and Asgard will soon follow, your gods and the others have fallen.’ Ashes took another step towards Ulf. ‘Midgard’s guardians are dead, my master has seen to it. Kneel, and maybe you can live.’

Valhallan didn’t care for the monster’s words, he still had breath in his lungs and strength in his arms. He refused to give this worm the satisfaction of his defeat. He launched forward, racing through the snow towards his opponent. ‘Odin!’ He screamed, swinging his axe. Steel clashed with claws as Valhallan went on the offensive. He growled and sneered as he attacked, not letting up on his assault. He had to slay this monster, for his father and the people of Midgard; he refused to let them fade. ‘Die!’ He screamed before planting his axe into Ashes’ scaly shoulder.

The Entity screamed a blood-curdling cry as it fell to its knees. His free claw pushed Ulf away violently, sending the warrior crashing through the snow. ‘Y-you worm!’ He shouted, the axe still protruding out of the wound.

Ulf tried to gather his strength the best he could. He had been at ground zero when the darkness invaded. He must have slain hundreds of deformed demons since the first morning sun and the non-stop battling had taken its toll on him. ‘F-for Midgard.’ He could barely speak as he rose to his feet. His breathing was heavy from exhaustion, yet still he advanced, slowly moving through the deep winter snow. ‘This world will not fall to you,’ he muttered.

Ashes was grunting, every breath was agonizing for him. The Asgardian steel was burning through his flesh, breaking the surrounding muscle into pieces.

As Ulf nearly reached his enemy he looked up, sighing in defeat. Asgard had fallen, consumed by darkness and fire. ‘No,’ he murmured. Heartbroken, he continued to watch the land of the Aesir burn.

‘It’s over, demi-god, m-my master has won!’

Ashes’ statement seemed to be true, the gods were dead and the mortals were left to fend for themselves. The darkness was coming for Midgard, slowly consuming the World Tree as it made its way to the realm of man.

Ulf Baldrson was the last remaining hope for humanity, but what could he do? He was alone against a force that had torn through deities. A thought crossed his mind, an idea that he thought would never have to come to pass, a true act of desperation. He turned his attention back to the crippled monster, with true anger in his face. He marched over, ripping the axe from Ashes’ shoulder and finishing him, removing his head, leaving him in the snow.

There was only one chance to save the last remaining realm. Yet, he dreaded what he must do. Mustering the last remaining remnants of his strength, he made his way towards Yggdrasil. The Tree connected the nine realms and had stood since the dawn of time. Ulf refused that the symbol of life and unity should fall in this way. If it must fall, then let it be by his hands. He took his axe and begun chopping. With each swing he ushered a prayer, apologizing to his gods and the Tree.

Time was passing and the darkness was getting closer. Ulf could feel Yggdrasil’s pain, both from the approaching entity, and his own assault. ‘Forgive me!’ He cried, delivering the final blow.

As the World Tree was severed, it detonated, sending ripples through space. The fallen eight realms exploded, decimating the darkness. Another worldly scream echoed as the evil force fell, slipping into empty nothingness, lost to reality.

Ulf felt his body fall apart from the explosion. There was no blood, nor severed limbs. Instead, he lay there in the snow, his body evaporating from the explosive force. ‘Forgive, father, uncle, Lord Odin, I’m sorry.’

Midgard was saved. It was the only light to shine that day. Billions had died and the humans of earth were left by themselves.

Ulf felt himself finally fade, his body turning to shining dust. He wondered where he would go, there was no Valhalla, no fallen comrades to lift mead with in a great hall. He wondered what the future would hold for the remaining realm now that there were no gods.

But at least Ragnarök was stopped.

fan fiction

About the author

Maurice D. Winterborn

Why hello, I am Maurice. I am an aspiring writer who has just finished his first book. I thought id write some short stories with ideas I've played with, hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading :)

Instagram: Maurice.d.winterborn

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