Kifeda picked himself up from the floor unceremoniously. Therania and his mother stared down at him, the former holding back laughter, the latter with anxious concern.

“I’ll take him,” Hodr said. “He passed in record time.”

“He passed?” Milima said in surprise. “You got him to apply himself?”

“Hey!” Kifeda interjected, but Hodr spoke right over him.

“I find that proper motivation can affect even the laziest slacker,” he said with a smile. Kifeda objected again, drawing no more of a reaction than last time. “I’ll be taking him off your hands for a while.”

“Please do,” Therania said. “At least he’ll finally be useful. We won’t need to clean the spires as often either.”

“You don’t clean them anyways!” Kifeda shouted.

“The Wild Hunt begins the day after tomorrow,” Hodr continued. “The finalized lists of our champions must be submitted tonight. I’ll have to take him now so I can get him to D-Tier before midnight.”

“I still don’t even know why I should go!” Kifeda said. He’d had enough of the Aesir talking over his head like he didn’t exist. “You throw me into an ugly little space with blue plants, threaten me with permanent death, and then declare that I work for you, all while acting like what I want doesn’t matter! Fuck that! Just kill me now and get it over with then!”

Kifeda’s chest heaved after his outburst. His vision dimmed at the corners, his rage overwhelming his other sensations. The two women in the room looked at him in shock. Neither had ever seen him lose his temper before, not since he was a child.

Hodr didn’t address Kifeda immediately. A pensive look now occupied his face below the blindfold. He stroked his chin in thought, before finally opening his mouth.

“I need you to help me and the other Aesir stop Ragnarok.”

Stunned silence greeted his statement.

Then, before anyone had even had a chance to process what he’d just said, the immaculately dressed blind man bowed at the waist. Mockingly.

“Now, if that is an acceptable reason to one of your esteemed stature—” Hodr said, sarcasm almost visibly dripping from his words. “—We really need to get moving. I’ll give you five minutes to say your farewells. You won’t be coming back here until after the Wild Hunt is over.”

Kifeda thought. The last were the first words he’d directed at Kifeda since the end of the trial.

He cut that thought off before it could delve much deeper.

Kifeda glanced back up only to realize that the Aesir had disappeared. Kenura had apparently been allowed to enter the room as well. His mother and Therania were both looking down at him from the dais. Milima still had a healthy dose of worry in her eyes, but pride had entered her gaze as well. She’d always known that Kifeda was capable of great things.

Therania’s gaze was inscrutable now. She had her ‘queen face’ on as Kifeda referred to it. He hated that look. It was yet another reminder of the distance that had sprung up between them the day her father had died.

“Well, I’m off to save the world, I guess,” Kifeda said with forced levity. “I’ll be working for an insane jackass who threatens people significantly weaker than himself with permanent death. Nothing to worry about. Just a regular dungeon run.”

Kenura let out a scandalized gasp. His mother’s concerned look turned fearful disapproval. Therania’s countenance didn’t crack at all.

She stood abruptly, marching down the steps towards him.

“Uh, I mean,” Kifeda sputtered, panic rising as he wondered if he’d finally pushed too far. “I’m honored to serve the kingdom, er, you, my queen—”

He was interrupted by Therania grabbing his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

His eyes shot wide. His shock was too great to allow any other reaction. After a moment, Therania pulled back.

“Come back to me,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “Don’t you dare leave me alone again.”

Kifeda couldn’t think of a response for a moment, his mind racing. When she went to separate from him, his arms shot up. He pulled her back in and kissed her back. Their emotions roiled about as the kiss deepened. Panicked desperation and over a decade of forced separation came crashing down on them.

Until his mother coughed very loudly into their ears.

“While I’m glad that the two of you finally made the leap—” she said in exasperated consternation. “—You couldn’t have picked a worse time. Now please, my queen, let me hug my son before he’s whisked away.”

She pried the two of them apart, wrapping Kifeda in her arms. Neither of them said anything. Kifeda wasn’t sure if it was because neither of them wanted to say goodbye. Words were unnecessary here, regardless.

After a few moments, they parted.

“Don’t embarrass our kingdom or our queen,” Kenura said.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Kifeda shot back. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

Kifeda pursed his lips and spread his arms wide. Kenura growled and began stomping towards him, muttering imprecations. Kifeda burst out laughing and ran behind Therania.

“My queen, I think your servant means me harm!” he said, peeking over her shoulder. “Please, protect your humble champion!”

“Champion?” Therania snorted, still brushing tears from her eyes. “What kind of champion hides behind the one he’s supposed to protect?”

The conversation devolved into a light-hearted scramble after that. It was the closest he’d felt to the rest of them since the passing of the king.

All too quickly it came to an end.

Hodr reappeared and whisked him away to Asgard.

Hodr’s portion of Asgard had surprised Kifeda. The demarcation between his territory was a stark contrast. The roads paved in gold were the only feature that was unchanged. The buildings were not the white marble that was virtually ever-present and uniform on the rest of the floating islands.

Instead, it was like an architect’s dreamscape vomited to life. No two adjacent buildings were the same style or color. They ran the gamut from ancient and intricately carved wooden sheds, to sleek and minimalistic works of metal and glass.

It was so visually jarring that Kifeda’s jaw dropped.

“My siblings hate it,” Hodr said with a sadistic grin. “Whenever they complained, I asked them to describe color to me. After they tripped all over themselves like they were the ones born blind, they resentfully let it drop. Until I started letting my Einherjar choose their own styles too.”

“So it’s not just me then,” Kifeda said quietly.

“Most definitely not,” Hodr said. “Loki and Baldr are the only ones who even pretend to tolerate me anymore. I was playing with the idea of letting my Einherjar dye their uniforms and playing ignorant before this all started.

“Why is it so important for me to be D-Tier?” Kifeda asked, finally steeling himself enough to ask some of his more pressing questions. Hodr had become significantly more forthcoming after his revelation about Ragnarok. “I’m already at the top of E-Tier. It would be smarter to push me over the edge after the start of the Hunt.”

“It would be yes,” Hodr said. “Unfortunately for you, I have a much better choice already lined up for E-Tier. She would eat you for breakfast even if you hadn’t spent years slacking off. If your positions were swapped, she might have caught up to Therania by now. Giving up never would have crossed her mind.”

Kifeda choked off a hot response. Hodr was able to get under his skin far too easily. Just one more thing about the Aesir that irritated him. Normally, Kifeda was the one doing the needling.

“Whatever,” Kifeda eventually said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Quite,” Hodr replied with a small smile that said he knew what Kifeda really wanted to say. “Andrey, Bogdan.”

Kifeda was confused at first, as the Einherjar guarding the entrance to Hodr’s hall were both female. When one of them snapped a quick salute before running off, he realized it had been a summons rather than an address.

“Are they going to be the ones running the dungeon with me?” Kifeda asked. When Hodr didn’t reply, he tried again. “What tier dungeon are you sending me to? What kind? Do I need to change clothes? Are you listening at all?”

Hodr remained reticent, ignoring him. After a minute, Kifeda let a grin steal its way onto his face. He sidled up next to the remaining guard.

“He stepped in shit down on Midgard, you know,” he stage whispered to her. “A big steaming pile. I’m surprised you couldn’t hear him cursing from up here.”

The guard blushed, but otherwise didn’t respond. Kifeda felt the Aesir’s attention fall back on him, but the man still didn’t say anything.

“Then, while he was trying to scrape it off, a cat mistook him for a litter box,” Kifeda continued, deepening the guard’s blush. She barely stopped herself from turning to glare at him.

Kifeda heard a chuckle from the doors to the hall.

“This is him, da?” a deep and heavily accented voice called to Hodr.

“That’s him, Andrey” Hodr replied. “Cheeky, like I said.”

“Da,” Andrey said, and Kifeda felt a massive arm drape itself over his shoulders. “I like him already.”

Kifeda was tall, even for his notoriously tall people. He frequently stood head and shoulders above everyone around him. Occasionally he would meet soldiers or visiting dignitaries who could match or come close to his height. Never before had he met someone who made him feel small.

Past the massive black beard was a craggy, heavily scarred face. His bald head was pale, coming to a point like the peak of a mountain. Thick, bushy eyebrows heavily shaded black eyes. He was grinning down at Kifeda like a long lost grandfather, despite their very obviously contrasting skin tones.

“You would,” another voice jeered from the entrance. “He’s got the same anti-authoritarian attitude that you do.”

“Da,” Andrey said with grave seriousness. “Men cannot be dogs, they should not lick hands like one.”

“Respect isn’t the same thing as ass-kissing, you lout,” Bogdan said as he walked into view.

If Andrey was a mountain, Bogdan was a tree. He was slightly shorter than Kifeda, with long, spindly limbs. A bow and quiver was strung over his back. His shoulders were slouched, and his arms held strangely far out to his sides. His long brown hair was shiny and parted to either side of his face, and he had pale green eyes, heavily lidded like he was half-asleep.

“Go lick the master’s hand puppy,” Andrey replied without heat. His smile never faded either, leading Kifeda to believe this wasn’t the first time they’d had this exchange.

“Alright, alright,” Hodr said. “Get to it, you two. You know what I expect.”

“Da,” Andrey replied with a grin. He squeezed Kifeda’s shoulders so tight his dark skin began to turn purple.

“At once, Master Hodr,” Bogdan saluted.

They blurred, speeding off towards the nearest Valkyrie crystal.

“Lelei, please send the finalized list to Ratatoskr,” Hodr said once they were gone.

“Yes, lord!” the woman shouted with a salute. She turned to leave, but hesitated at the last second. “Sir… did you really step in shit?”

Hodr sighed and waved the woman off, wondering if his gamble was worth the effort.