3944/The day that Sera died

The day that Sera died
Date of Scene:	26 October 2020
Location:	Niffleheim - Asgard
Synopsis:	Sera dun died yo. Turns out Angels do have souls. Also the Queen of the Dead is cool??
Cast of Characters:	Sera, Hela

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Sera has posed:
"Angela!," Sera cried out as she watched her partner dash off in to the skies after some sort of blimp. To say this world was weird is to undervalue the weirdness of every world they have visited. This one had been developing technology and borrowing from visitors from other planets.

But this left Sera surrounded by a small group of brigands who weren't too happy that Angela and Sera had crashed their party, nor that their 'fearless' leader had just run away. Sera rubs her hands together, "Okay boys, if that's the way it's going to be... who needs an Angela anyway," she says backing away a moment until she becomes aware of the ones behind her too.

Their weapons look decidedly primitive, but they thrum with magic. How they had figured out how to make magical weapons she's not sure. Sera's body begins to glow with an intense light and gigantic white wings explode from her back. Her very skin shines and the light from her eyes is blinding.

This is not the weak Sera who fled from Heven, this is a Sera at her magical peak. The songs spill from her lips and she improvises. Her body begins to dance as she dodges and weaves between the weapons. Then she has suddenly swapped placed with one of the fighters and his friends have stabbed him.

There is a moment where they pause and re-assess and Sera turns around with a smirk on her lips. She holds out her hand and a sword appears suddenly, burning with bright light; in her other hand a shield appears. She charges in at them.

The fighters are losing, their bodies combusting from the insides as she stabs them, they can barely look at her she is glowing so bright, illuminating the camp like it were daytime. But then the reinforcements arrive.

Sera lets go of the magical sword stuck in to one man and throws her shield at another hitting him unconscious and sprawling to the ground. She looks up to see another forty men. "Really?" With a huff she holds up her hands and sings. The air splits open and lightning bursts from it striking a half dozen men in the front ranks.

Bravely,.. stupidly, they charge in against Sera and she wraps her wings about herself, teleporting once more. She doesn't feel in danger - but she should. Because one lone fighter amongst the group is less experienced. He doesn't know how lucky he has to be to hit Sera with that spear if he didn't defend himself like a seasoned warrior would.

Sera's hand presses to his forehead and his eyes burn out and he screams... but it takes Sera a moment to realise she is hit. She pauses amidst the shouts of anger from the fighters charging her - a magically tipped spear is embedded in to her side, her Angelic Armor penetrated. She can feel her heart racing and the warm liquid of her blood trickling down the inside of her armor.

"I.. lost," she says in bewilderment, dropping to her knees and slumping forward, collapsing to the ground.

Hela has posed:
Helheim is mutable according to it's rulers wishes - either that, or it exists in many states at the same time, the underworld is a place of myth after all. But the form Hela prefers is that of a palace of sprawling size, with a bleak hall of cold ice and rime at its heart. She is perched atop a black throne, listening to audiences with her draugr, and generally conducting business as queen of the dead.

Right now there are some rowdy souls in the prison of the Hall of Nastrond giving Hela a headache. She can't attend to everything herself, so she's giving a draugr lieutenant some orders. "Get Fafnir if you have to. It's not the first time this has happened. You should know this already.". She waves a hand, indicating the vast hall and thronging hordes. "I have others to attend to.". Hela is a bit tetchy today.

And suddenly Sera appears in a flash of light, on her knees before Hela's throne in this icy hall. The cold of the hall, and of Hela upon her throne, seeps into Sera's bones, and the bleeding and pain at least are pleasantly numbed by the chill.

It's not the first time a new arrival has arrived in such a fashion, but they are rare enough to make Hela sit up a bit straighter on her throne, and dismiss the draugr with a wave of a hand. "A new soul comes to Helheim." she declares to the crowd. One dark gloved hand sweeps upward magnanimously. "Arise, my subject.".

Sera has posed:
Angels don't believe in the after life. They are told they have no soul and that there is no final destination upon their death. To die is simply an end, not a rebirth, not a beginning, not a next step in to another form of existence... simply nothingness. Once upon a time this was true too - until Asgard fought a losing war against the Angels. Freyja retaliated against them by cursing them to arrive upon death in Helheim before its ruler - Hela. She wanted the angels bent at the knee in an afterlife not of their choosing.

And so Sera finds herself suddenly upon a cold floor. She grips at her side. There is no spear. The look of bewilderment on her face is one shared by every angel that has landed on this cold floor. She shivers in surprise, wearing nothing but her underclothes. Where did her armor go? the spot where the spear penetrated her still cut in her chemise.

The order is declared and Sera's attention snaps up to the big black throne and the one sitting on it. She isn't sure who that is or where she is - but some one must be messing with her. She doesn't want to stay on the cold ground anyway, so she stands. Her bare toes curl against the cold floor.

"What is this place? Where am I?," she asks. Her voice lacks the demands of previous angels but instead carries with it curiosity and concern. It is then that her eyes begin to glow with angelic magic, for this does not seem like a friendly place. Not many places are friendly to angels besides Heven, but this place especially so.

This one knows sorcery, but even more strangely, she arrives in the manner of the angels but has no wings. Her gaze returns to Hela and in that same voice she asks, "Who are you?"

Hela has posed:
Hela spreads her hands. "Helheim, the realm of the dead.". She knows these souls are a bit more disoriented than most than they arrive. Most - all, in fact - know where they are going for starters, especially after trekking for nine days across the Helvegen, but these ones always seem so surprised. She looks over the new arrival with a hint of curiosity. 'These ones', at least she supposes this is another, she looks a bit different.

"And I am Hela, the Queen of the Dead, and now your rightful liege.". She's not too bothered about the display of magical power, for the dead, even of other realms, cannot stand against her - but she is curious. A souls a soul, but maybe not quite so rightful in this case, she honestly doesn't know. Nobody has complained, that's enough for her.

"I rule this realm fairly, and am not unkind to those souls who accept their fate.". Naturally, this implies that she IS unkind to those who don't.

Sera has posed:
Sera shakes her head slowly, "That cannot be." She feels she must be being tricked some how now, "Heven is cut off from the nine realms and I have no soul." She had better have no soul, she spent 600 years of her life singing the songs of the fallen angels to keep their story alive. It is how the dead are remembered and given an afterlife on Heven.

But that job is reserved for the 10% of the population that don't fit - the men. They are wingless, weak.. so they are told. They must be protected, so they are told. So they are placed under the command of the Heirophant where they spend their nights and days singing the songs of the worthy warrior angels who had fallen in battle.

This is how she knows of Helheim, for she has sung about it. But if angels have souls and they are taken here when they die - then what was she spending all those years singing for? A shudder runs down her spine not just from the cold but from this new icy dagger in her heart. Not only was she told she was lesser than the other angels, told never to speak, given nothing but rags to wear and living in a cold colorless prison... but on top of that it was all completely futile?

"I have no liege, Queen of the Dead. I cannot be dead then, you have somehow abducted me here. I demand release at once," she says; though her actions differ from the ones who had come before. She didn't issue a challenge or draw a weapon. Instead she sings softly and a white shield appears held by her left arm. She places it before her and takes one step backward from the throne, glancing over her shoulder for an exit from this strange place.

"My fate cannot be here," she says though there is a pause and a paleness to her face as she finally begins to understand the visions in the great engine she saw. This was walking the best path - she knew that path would take her many strange places but she never quite knew how she would get there. Helheim. She is here. This is somehow still the best path for her best future. But why now? why here?

Hela has posed:
Hela sighs, they are always so difficult. She stands up from her throne, cloak hanging heavily from her shoulders, no breeze in this still place to flap it. And slowly walks towards Sera, as she backs away. She hopes this one won't be difficult - the draugr seem to be getting the message too, as they back away from Sera, leaving a wide empty circle with the jingle of rusted weapons and hauberks.

"You are dead." Hela assures. "Blood flows in your veins no more.". And she indicates the wound that was obviously responsible for bringing Sera here. "I have taken away your pain. Death is a relief." she says, a bit placating. "And I /am/ your queen." she adds.

"I allow a single impertinence from your kind, as they arrive in a state of confusion. But only one." she explains. She continues to walk until she's no more than ten feet away. "Now. Kneel before your queen." she commands, and her eyes narrow, the corner of her lip curling. The goddess of death can force such things from her subjects, but she wants to know if this one can be allowed to run loose unsupervised or not.

The hall does have an exit, but it's quite a long way in this spectacular place. And there's a LOT of draugr between here and there. They've formed a ring around the two of them, but they've not cleared out of the hall entirely. Aside from that the hall is quite bare and bleak and forbidding, the throne, a set of icy pillars flanking the hall, a corridor at the far end - and the dead.

Sera has posed:
Sera shakes her head in confusion.. a long white whip made of magic emerging from her right hand and snaking across the ground. She doesn't raise it though. Memories of potential futures flashing through her head. Now she is here in this place things fit the strange puzzle. Faces, people, bodies, places that fit the aesthetic of this place.

"It's you," she says with wide eyed looking at the Queen Asgardian of Death. "I.. I..," she says and the whip turns in to tiny dots of white light, dancing in the air until they extinguish. Her now free hand is placed to her heart and she feels no beat. "But...," there is that classic Angelic confusion. It usually is followed with violence.

Sera always knew there would be a point in her life where potential futures started to coalesce in to something real - she just never thought it would be nice, nor did she think she'd die. "Angels have souls?," she finally asks as this horrific lie is setting in to her head. She lowers the shield too and it too scatters in to tiny little dots of light that fade away.

Whatever kind of angel this one is, it is clear she doesn't have that same 'never give up no matter what' fighting spirit the other ones possessed. She frowns though and her glare is building. She is proud none the less and drops down on to her knees. "I do not understand what the purpose of continued existence past death is," she admits, the contradiction inside her own head intense.. all those futures are still there, somehow. Yet she's dead? something doesn't add up.

Hela has posed:
Hela is actually pleasantly surprised when Sera obeys. They never do that! The rest have to be taken to the darkest pit of Hel and left to stew for a century or two before you can get anything out of them - there's more than a few of them down there right now, screaming in the darkness, probably. Hela can certainly be cruel too.

She smiles, and now the gesture of obeisance has been done willingly, asks, "You have a soul. Indeed, now that is all you are. And you are fated to be a part of my realm, until the end of days. You will have your share of glory and fame, as your service earns you. Perhaps one day you will be a commander, and aid me in my wars with the other realms." she promises.

"Rise, and speak. What is your name, my subject?". Hela tilts her head, already pondering some light duties for her new soul. It's probably not going to be armies just yet, given how rebellious these wretches typically are. Hmm. She waves a hand, and a draugr appears next to her - the spirit of a centuries dead Norseman, clad in the tattered clothes of some sort of peasant, with a smell of rotted fish about him.

Sera has posed:
This is the first Queen she's ever met. She'd never actually meet the Queen of Heven, not until much later in her travels if the visions are to be believed. She meets the Queen of Heven much sooner in other paths that she didn't take. Her eyes look to the draugr and she grimaces a touch. Asgardians and death. What a cruel fate that Angels and Asgardians would share an afterlife.

"Sera. My name is Sera," she says and hugs her arms around her torso. One finger stroking the place that caused her death, her side under her arm. "Angels are not meant to have souls. Why would they lie about this?" She furrows her eyebrows. The ramifications to angelic society if they knew would be massive. Proof of this alone could potentially topple the Queen.

The glow of angelic energy leaves her eyes revealing the her eye color to be brown. She wonders who else could be here. It's not too common for an angel to die. They never die from old age, it's always from combat or accident. "Nothing for nothing. If you wish my service you must do as all others and pay," she says. Oh yes, the angels are quite capitalistic. This can't have been the first time Hela had heard such things from the fallen angels.

Hela has posed:
"Sera.". Hela notes the name, and turns to the draugr. "Geir, take Sera to the Gjoll. She can drag some souls from it's icy clutches and bring them properly into Hel. Always plenty of fools who fall off the bridge or don't follow the path.". Idiots, there's a path, it's famous, it's marked, but the river is full of screaming fools anyway.

She blinks though when Sera expects to get paid for this service, and already cold air gets noticeably colder around them. Some thin ice is being skated on here...

Hela regards Sera icily for a few long moments. She tries to be nice all the time, and all the time it's backtalk, rebellion, Odin being mean. "Any fools you recover from the river will be yours to train." she eventually relents. This angel has been nice enough so far, it's probably worth Hela accommodating her in some fairly meaningless manner, she thinks.

Sera has posed:
Sera notes the sudden drop in temperature. She shivers again. This Ice Queen of Death probably has a very nasty side to her. It's a shame no songs of passed angels ever mentioned her so she'd know what to expect. That tense moment passes though.. when she's gifted souls? to train?

She is about to ask about slavery but thinks the better of it for the moment. For all she knows, that may be the currency in this place. If she can find a way to barter with them then all the better. She looks to the draugr with a mixture of disgust and concern once more and then steps back from Hela.

"Very well, though most do not possess magical aptitude for instruction and I have never taught before," she says and then suddenly realises she has no idea how one is meant to behave in a court. "But that will be more problem, thank you for an amicable transaction your majesty."

Hela has posed:
"A most unusual creature, you are." Hela observes. But not unpleasant, she secretly decides. She'll have to get to the bottom of the missing wings one day, or even find out if she's really of the same ilk as the others. But seems like she won't have to torture it out of her maybe. "One day you will be a worthy member of my realm, I am sure.".

Of course the other reason for sending her to the river is that on the other side of the palace, deeper into her icy realm, is her special angel wing, where some truly horrible things happen to the ones who aren't even broken by the darkness of the pit. Probably not wise to let Sera see that just yet.

"Geir, show Sera the way and give her any assistance she might need. The river is treacherous to the uninitiated, after all. You may leave us." she says graciously.

It's still an Asgardian court, even if they are dead. Probably lots of fighting and such! Just with a somewhat cooler ruler.