Eclipse of Eternities

Part 1 – Gathering the Fallen

The air was thick with the scent of blood and ash.

The Bloodspawn's body had vanished, dissolving into black mist, but its presence still lingered—like a wound in reality that hadn't fully healed. The ground where it fell was scorched and cracked, dark veins pulsing faintly across the soil, as if something was still lurking beneath.

The fire giants, however, were very real. Their massive bodies lay still, torn open by the Bloodspawn's claws, their weapons shattered, their armor dented beyond repair. They had died fighting—but not as conquerors.

As prey.

Freya exhaled, wiping her blade clean before sheathing it. "We should take their bodies back to the village. The Vanir will want proof."

Siv nodded. "They honor their dead—even their enemies."

Erik groaned. "You do realize how much those things weigh, right?"

Darius rolled his shoulders. "You scared of heavy lifting, Erik?"

"I fear nothing," Erik grumbled. "I just prefer my victories to involve more drinking and less corpse-hauling."

I sighed. "Let's move."

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Part 2 – The Journey Back

It took all of us working together, but we gathered the remains of the fallen giants and secured what was left of their weapons. The Vanir would want to study the wounds, to understand what they had been fighting before we arrived.

The trek back to the Vanir village was long, silent. The forest watched us. The unnatural energy from the Bloodspawn's presence still lingered in the air, even as we moved further from the battlefield.

Khaled broke the silence first. "This won't be the last one."

I nodded. "No. It won't."

The Bloodspawn's existence meant that Fenrir was struggling against his chains. If he kept resisting, more of these creatures would come.

Freya glanced at me. "What's our next move?"

I exhaled. "We return the fallen, we rest, and we prepare. If another Bloodspawn appears, we make sure we're ready."

"And if it's not just a Bloodspawn next time?" Ingrid asked.

I didn't answer.

Because I didn't know.

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Part 3 – Honor Among the Vanir

The Vanir village was nothing like I had expected.

Nestled deep within Vanaheim's enchanted forests, it blended seamlessly with nature. Towering trees had been woven into homes, their branches curling into rooftops. Small streams ran through the village, glowing faintly with runes of protection. The people themselves—tall, graceful, and adorned with golden tattoos—watched us carefully as we carried the fallen into the village center.

The Vanir did not weep.

Instead, they stood in solemn silence, their eyes filled with respect for the dead.

The village elder, a regal figure with braided silver hair and robes woven from leaves and starlight, stepped forward.

Siv knelt before him. "Elder Hjalmar, the Einherjar have fought beside us. They bring back our fallen, so their spirits may rest."

Hjalmar studied us for a long moment before nodding. "You have done more than bring back the dead. You have faced something ancient—something that does not belong in this realm."

I met his gaze. "The Bloodspawn won't be the last."

"No," he agreed. "But tonight is not a night for shadows. Tonight, we honor the warriors who stood against the dark."

He raised his hand, and the villagers responded immediately. Fires were lit, long tables unfolded from the earth itself, and before I could process what was happening—

A feast had begun.

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Part 4 – A Grand Feast & A God's Arrival

The Vanir did not celebrate like the Aesir.

There were no wild boasts, no shattered drinking horns, no chaotic brawls. Instead, their feasts were elegant but warm.

Golden fruits glowed faintly on wooden platters. Meat roasted over open flames, seasoned with herbs that shimmered in the firelight. Sweet honeyed wine flowed in intricately carved goblets, and soft harp music played in the background, weaving through the laughter and conversation.

"This," Erik said, taking a massive bite from a roasted stag leg, "is how you honor warriors."

Freya smirked. "You just like free food."

Khaled sipped from his goblet, his dark eyes scanning the room. "They're watching us."

And he was right.

The Vanir weren't just celebrating. They were observing. Studying who we were, how we acted.

And then—he arrived.

The golden doors of the great hall swung open, and the energy in the room shifted. Conversations halted. The music faltered.

A tall figure stepped inside, bathed in warm light.

He was handsome, but not in an overpowering way—his presence was calming, his long blonde hair tied in simple braids, his green eyes filled with the wisdom of the earth itself. He wore no crown, no heavy armor—only light leathers and a tunic woven from sunlight.

Frey, the Vanir god of fertility, peace, and growth.

Father of Magnus Chase.

The room bowed. Even my team lowered their heads out of respect.

I watched him carefully as he stepped toward me.

"You're the Einherjar leading this group, aren't you?"

I nodded. "I am."

Frey studied me for a long moment before smiling. "You carry something of the sky in you. And yet, you are not bound to fate."

I tensed. He saw through me instantly.

"Relax," he said, his voice smooth and warm, like sunlight through leaves. "I am not my father. I do not interfere in all things. But when warriors stand against the darkness, I take notice."

He extended a hand.

"On behalf of the Vanir, I name you and your companions Friends of Vanaheim."

The hall erupted into cheers.

I took his hand, shaking it firmly.

"Thank you, Lord Frey."

His smile was knowing. "Tonight, we feast. Tomorrow, you will return. And I may accompany you to to Valhalla so that you all may recieve the correct rewards and compensation from Odin."

I exhaled slowly. The fight was over—for now.

But something told me my real journey was only just beginning.

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