Feeling Thor's violent power ripple out like a thunderstorm, Soren's brows knit together in concern. Thor's aura was unstable.
"Thor, calm yourself!" Soren's tone was firm but not unkind.
The words struck through Thor's stormy haze, and the god shuddered slightly as the fury ebbed from his body. Slowly, Thor began to regain his composure.
"Frigga's injuries are grave." Soren said gravely.
"Malekith's magic is laced with dark power. It's not a simple wound, his attack is a curse that eats away at her life force. Healing her will not be swift."
"Full resurrection will take time… time we may not have."
Thor's eyes burned with helpless rage, but he stayed silent.
Soren continued. "Asgard has just been attacked."
"There are confirmed casualties. You're needed there. Go. Handle the situation. Keep the realm from falling further into chaos."
Thor hesitated.
His gaze shifted back to the bed where Frigga lay, her face pale and peaceful despite the storm within her.
"I'll stay here and heal her," Soren assured him.
"Once she's stable, I'll come to Asgard myself. But right now, you're not in the right state of mind to remain here."
"Don't act rashly, your people need a leader."
The god of thunder slowly nodded, understanding the truth in Soren's words. His mother's condition weighed heavily on him, but his duty was clear.
He turned toward the portal, ready to return.
"Wait." Soren called, as Thor stepped into the swirling light.
With a motion of his hand, a glowing array of healing potions appeared before Thor, each one carefully sealed in crystal vials. "These will help."
"Use them on your wounded. The effects are fast and potent. It'll save lives."
Thor stared at the potions, his expression shifting from surprise to quiet gratitude. These were the product of Soren's ancient craft, capable of accelerating recovery far beyond the reach of normal magic.
"Soren... I can't thank you enough."
Thor gathered the vials carefully, understanding just how many lives they might preserve in the coming days.
Soren gave a dismissive wave, already turning back to Frigga. "Don't waste them."
Without another word, Thor stepped into the portal and vanished, the storm within him tempered… for now.
Once alone, Soren carefully lifted Frigga's frail form and carried her deeper.
He placed her on a bed embedded with ancient runes that pulsed with life energy.
Hours passed as Soren worked in near silence. He summoned vast streams of mysterious power, weaving them around the faint glimmer of vitality still lingering within Frigga.
Slowly… agonizingly slowly, her life force stirred, like the first flickers of a fire barely catching.
But Malekith's darkness was stubborn, clawing at her from the inside.
Soren's frown deepened. Channeling the full force of the medical hall, he wrapped Frigga's fragile spark in a cocoon of healing energy.
"…"
An overwhelming tide of mysterious power surged.
Against this immense force, the darkness that had embedded within Frigga's body was utterly insignificant.
It could not hold its shape, let alone resist.
The dark energy flickered briefly in defiance, but within seconds, it was annihilated, burned away by the cleansing magic of the hall.
Complete obliteration.
Soren, sensing the moment was right, placed his hand on the mound on Frigga's chest. It pulsed faintly with residual dark magic.
Carefully, he began to draw it out.
With a soft, wet sound—piiik— it slid free.
A spurt of crimson liquid arced into the air, staining the white cloth beneath her.
Yet Soren remained calm. This is good.
If there's blood, it means her body's circulation is reviving.
Immediately, a surge of psychokinetic energy radiated from his palm, freezing the blood mid-spray and halting the flow.
Under the continuous influence of Everlife's mysterious magic, the wound began to close. Within moments, there was no trace of the blade's entry.
Not even a scar.
Only then did Soren allow himself a breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. The most dangerous part was over.
The treatment chamber's door creaked softly, and a familiar figure entered.
Jean, concern etched in her expression. Her eyes fell on Soren, drained, slightly pale, but smiling.
"How's it going?"
"It's alright now." Soren replied, his voice quiet but full of relief.
"We pulled her back. Her divine core is intact, just weak. She'll need time to heal, to slowly regenerate her vitality. Fortunately, gods are far more resilient than mortals."
"It's… a matter of patience now."
Jean smiled faintly, though her eyes still lingered on Frigga's resting form.
"You did well, Doctor."
Soren waved it off lightly. "The medical hall will take care of her from here. I won't need to keep pushing myself."
He placed a comforting hand on Jean's shoulder and guided her gently out of the room. "Come."
"Let's give her peace and space to recover."
As the treatment room doors sealed behind them, the walls glowed softly, attuned to Frigga's faint but growing life force.
Meanwhile, across the realms, the golden skies of Asgard were darker than usual.
Thor had returned, bearing not only the news of Frigga's survival but a powerful gift from Soren, the healing potions. Distributed swiftly among the healers and soldiers, their effects were nearly miraculous.
Wounds that should have taken days, even weeks, to mend were closed in minutes. Asgard's wounded were rising again, their faith in magic and in hope restored.
In the throne room, Thor stood before Odin, his expression torn between triumph and concern.
"Father, Frigga is out of danger." Thor said, his voice firm but heavy.
"Soren said she will wake up."
Relief washed over Odin's face for a fleeting second before the storm behind his eyes returned, fueled by rage, sorrow, and vengeance. He looked out at the shattered spires beyond the palace, at the broken defenses of their once-invincible realm.
"Too many lives lost… and my wife nearly taken." Odin growled.
"This cannot go unanswered."
Thor nodded slowly. "Our defenses are in ruin. And Heimdall still cannot locate Malekith's position."
"We have the Aether." Odin snapped. "He will come to us."
Thor's eyes narrowed. He knew where this was going.
"No."
"We cannot risk Asgard itself. We've lost too much already."
Odin turned to him, gaze like ice. "You would let them dictate the battlefield?"
"I'm saying we take the battle away from our people." Thor countered.
"I'll take Jane to the Dark World. If Malekith wants the Aether, he'll follow. And when he draws it out, I will destroy him… and it."
"You underestimate the risk!"
"If the Aether falls into enemy hands~"
"Then we'll all fall," Thor finished.
"But I won't gamble Asgard on the hope we'll hold the line. Not again."
"You overestimate this rabble. Let them come. The armies of Asgard will crush them!"
"And at what cost?" Thor shot back.
"You taught me to protect our people, not sacrifice them for pride."
A silence fell over the throne room. Neither father nor son willing to yield.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream