Muspelheim, domain of the fire giant Surtr, was a sea of flames - a hellscape. Even Skadi's divinity hadn't reached this place in the past two thousand years.
Inside Surtr's palace, a towering fire giant raced in from outside and knelt before Surtr on his throne. "My king! The snow has melted! The snow has melted!" he exclaimed joyfully.
"What did you say?" Surtr's brows rose questioningly.
"I said the snow outside Muspelheim has melted, my king!" The fire giant repeated elatedly.
Hearing this, Surtr frowned and stood up, hurrying out of the palace to see for himself.
Muspelheim was a blazing inferno, but for two thousand years, Skadi's divinity had maintained a constant snowfall surrounding it - as if two worlds were separated by a single boundary. Yet now, the snow blanketing Muspelheim's exterior had melted away under its scorching aura, exposing the barren desert lands that had been hidden for over two millennia.
Seeing the desert he hadn't seen in thousands of years, Surtr was shocked. "Hel...she actually succeeded!" he murmured. "I can't believe it...Skadi was defeated by Hel? Impossible..."
"My king! The snow has melted!" the fire giant exclaimed. "This shows Skadi's era has passed! The time has finally come for us giants to reclaim dominion over the world!"
The other fire giants who had followed Surtr out were also celebrating joyously.
"Reclaim the world's sovereignty!"
"Reclaim the world's sovereignty!"
The giants roared deafeningly.
Seeing the cheering fire giants, Surtr still couldn't quite believe it. It had been over two thousand years...Skadi had driven him to Muspelheim and suppressed him here for millennia!
For two thousand years, she had stood like an insurmountable mountain, blocking their path. He had been furious and hateful, harboring vengeance every single day, thinking of ways to defeat her and lead the giants to reclaim dominion over the world.
Yet now, at the moment of Skadi's downfall, he found...he was somehow unable to accept it. He even felt it was impossible!
Surtr pondered for a moment, then a wild, arrogant expression spread across his face. "Alright everyone, pack up! We march south to reclaim dominion over the world!"
A fire giant said uncertainly: "But my king, even with the snow melted, we'd still have to get past the Gate and all those Valkyries left by Skadi. We may not be able to break through."
"If even the snow outside Muspelheim could melt, it means Asgard and Skadi have already fallen," Surtr stated confidently. "With their downfall, the Gate created by Skadi's divinity would naturally weaken. And the Valkyries guarding it - even if they don't withdraw to reinforce Asgard, their hearts and minds surely won't be focused here. This is the perfect time to strike!"
"Besides, the origin wheels are manifestations of our ancestors' power and should be ours by right. That old thief Skadi stole two wheels long ago, disgracing us greatly. Now, with Asgard in turmoil, we must raid them and reclaim what they stole to restore our ancestors' honor!"
Hearing his words, the fire giants murmured in agreement, praising Surtr's wisdom.
Surtr led the giants back to his stronghold. Donning armor with swords in hand, he set out to storm the gate with his army in tow.
...
Sigurd's Command Spell coercion had finally faded. As Shirou withdrew the black mud, Sigurd made no further mention of escorting Vali elsewhere. Having been forced against his will once before, Sigurd now feared Hel might compel him to kill Vali again through another Command Spell. So this time, he avoided suggesting the boy be escorted away. Yet neither could he abandon Vali to fend for himself. With no other choice, he allowed the child to temporarily join them on their way towards the Muspelheim Gate.
Vali proved rather courageous, readily agreeing to join them without dwelling on Sigurd's earlier attempt on his life. Such valor was likely a Northman trait. Shirou did not object, and Valkyrie A remained silent as Hel's obedient observer.
After leaving the village, they paused to glance at the abandoned houses before setting off.
With the Eternal King's five hundred soldiers now accompanying them, their party cut an impressive figure across the icy plains.
On the way, Shirou noticed Salter kept watching him.
He rubbed his face and asked, "Do I have dirt on my face? You keep staring at me."
"No, I was just wondering - does your main body have three eyes or six arms? How did you get Morgan to follow you?" she asked curiously.
From her brief exchanges with his soldiers, she had learned much about his accomplishments, including making Morgan le Fay wholeheartedly devote her life to his kingdom. This really turned Salter's worldview upside down. To make someone as adept at backstabbing and scheming as Morgan loyally serve him...it was an impossible feat!
Great admiration rose in Salter's heart. As expected of the Eternal King to conquer even Morgan!
Seeing Salter's admiring gaze, he grew confused. What kind of nonsense had they been feeding her now? Three eyes and six arms?
He turned and shot his soldiers a sharp look. Shirou felt the need to discipline them, as bizarre rumors often popped up about him back in Camelot as well. Fortunately those weird stories didn't seem to have affected the records of the Eternal King engraved on the Throne, or the "Eternal King" might have really become some freakish alien with three eyes and six arms.
Seeing their beloved king scowling at them, the soldiers flashed awkward, sheepish smiles. They really couldn't help it!
Seeing the eager Salter, he decided to enlighten her about Morgan.
"Wait!" She suddenly exclaimed before pulling out a notebook from her clothes, saying excitedly, "Please, go on!"
Shirou: "..."
"See, I told you!" one of soldiers boasted. "Even an alternate version is still the Second Majesty! Just look at the way she whipped out that notebook. How stylish! And that speed - majestically smooth!"
...
She knew. She knew she must've forgotten something. But what exactly she had forgotten, even she didn't know.
When she'd come to this land of the dead as a goddess, her divinity alone had kept this crumbling world from ruin. Everyone revered her as the great goddess. The Valkyries Odin had left behind respected her too, as if she were Odin himself. They pleaded with her to stay, begging her to protect this land where the gods had vanished.
She was unwilling in her heart though, because she wanted to search for those forgotten memories. They must've been important. And that hazy figure lingering in her mind - he was important too.
But she couldn't bring herself to be indifferent to the people of this land. So she lingered in this world, and as time passed, her divinity slowly faded. Yearning for spring, her mind grew hazier, lulling her into deeper sleep.
She knew this wasn't kindness, but weakness. That's why she was imprisoned in this cage, a pet toyed with in Hel's palm. Wanting more and more to sleep. She didn't complain though - her punishment was the natural result of being weak.
She had fallen asleep in her cage again. Not that she disliked sleeping - quite the opposite. When asleep, lost memories would surface for her to search through. Perhaps this curse had exceeded even the realm of divine spirits!
And she fell into dreams again. She arrived in a modern city so familiar it was uncanny. Here, her role was a human PE teacher. Ridiculous - a goddess reduced to teaching high school gym. The current her laughed bitterly. Truly unbelievable and shameful.
But worse was that she'd lived with a human male, and he was her student!
Too disgraceful!
She had to regain her memories and understand what happened in her past. But after being trapped by reality for over two thousand years, she still couldn't break free. This was the result of her inability to harden her heart.
So she could only search for answers in dreams. She stood before him, his features blurred and unclear, yet so familiar. He was someone who'd accompanied her for a long time and had also saved her from the Holy Grail War.
She'd watched this dream play out countless times over these long two thousand years. She'd seen him grow from a boy into a man countless times. She'd watched as he changed - from a calm, composed, intelligent child into an irritable, unstable, maddened teenager.
Yes, countless times. He'd yell in anger, smash things randomly, harm himself. He'd debate absurd theories with professors to the point of madness. He'd lock himself in the library for a week without eating or sleeping, tearing up every book before the police dragged him away.
To any observer, he was clearly a madman suffering from mental illness. But she knew better from endless repetitions. He'd discovered something, feared something, struggled desperately against something. But what he'd found, what he feared, what he fought - she had no idea.
This was a dream built from his memories - experiences she'd once lived but now forgotten. She couldn't interfere, could barely see his face, had no idea who he was or what had happened. Some goddess she was, unable to understand her own dreams. Laughable.
Over two thousand years she'd watched this play out: seen him descend into incurable madness countless times, been confined to asylums countless times. She knew the ending and beginning by heart.
Doubts had long crept in.
Were these truly her memories?
Had this happened in her past?
Was she really... the woman in this dream?
...
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