Magnus Chase - Rise Of Darkness

Chapter 11 - Ooh, So That's Who I Dreamt Of In Chapters Three And Nine!

Cyrus was a majestic, unspeakable person.

They were around six foot seven, taller than Halfborn, just not as thick with muscle. Like I said before, more of the build of a track star for the Olympics. Their skin and hair was a silk white and cream, just like their eyes. I'm pretty sure the term was albino. A white tank top and colorless leather pants was all they had on, no weapons, nothing.

I once assumed in my dreams that the Skofnung champion was an item, or some sort of creature. That's what I pictured with something that can possess so much power and energy.

But Cyrus wasn't a thing or creature. Not an it or that. But a person. And people have feelings, no matter how butchered.

The three of us spread out along the arena. We stood in the sparkling arena, glistening with ice foundations and cold frost walls. And yet the ground out feet stood on wasn't slippery. I guess that's Nifleheim for you. The demands of the bloodthirsty crowd suffocated the air. I stood to the champion's right at the wall, Saar on the other side to their left. Alex, being the warrior with the best weapon and from Cyrus' demand, stood in front, garrote wire ready.

Alex's face was glowing with determination, as if depicting how he would slice the revived weapon.

From above, the six voices of Thrudglemir echoed out "BEGIN!"

Without a moment of hesitation, Alex whipped the golden wire around and toward Cyrus with grace. We all expected Cyrus to face the death all of the enemies that faced Alex Fierro did: fatally loosing a body part such as their head or being sliced in half.

But the Skofnung champion didn't flinch at the green-haired einherji moves. And when the deadly weapon came into close contact with them, they moved their arm out to defend themselves, the clay-cutter wrapping itself tightly around the champion's muscular arm.

We all froze at the sight, the moment between the two warriors. Alex grimaced and pulled on his end of the garrote hard, as if it would do the trick. But the Skofnung champion just planted their feet.

Alex wasn't going to give up yet, but his face was still struck with disbelief "This isn't possible." He managed out, still strangling with his weapon.

On the other end, Cyrus curled their fingers around the wire, getting a better grip. Their once cream colored irises started to glow a neon blue, just like the old weapon.

The warrior grinned "Kid, you have no idea what these worlds can bring." With that, they pulled on their end of the garrot, yanking Alex of his feet and to his opponent. Once close enough, the other warrior grabbed Alex by the collar of his parka. The two met eyes for a second, possibly glaring at each other before the white soldier bashed their head into Alex's and he crashed into the ice floor, unconscious.

The air seemed to leave my lungs almost as bad as Alex's blow. I've never seen him get taken down so quick. I wanted to sprint over, use every fiber of my energy to get him to his feet. But from the shots ringing out a few yards to my right, it told me that Alex would have to wait. Saar needed me.

With a growl of frustration, I darted back over to the fight. But something in my head was shouting at me, telling me to think about my actions. I looked up at the black and white beings going hand to hand: Saar punching the white arsenal in the face, then being grabbed by the ankle and smashed into the arena wall by the champion. The crowd, minus our friends, erupted into pleased cheers from the vibrations the smash made.

Was it their ferocity? Their brutal actions and energy? Or their appearance that made me stop? Or was it something in my tiny Frey mind that there was something more than the striking fighter in front of me?