My dear followers, it has happened. I am finally writing a Loki fanfiction. However, this protag is a bit…different, as you will come to find out.
Title: Of Wind and Sea
Rating: T for violence
Summary: Stranded on Asgard, Sulaer is more than a world away from home, realms away. Her skills in battle and magic may give her favor with Odin, Thor, and even Loki, but for how long? Asgard is full of secrets, and Sulaer holds a massive one.
My ears rang as we crested the hill. The roar of thousands of soldiers was deafening. It was the sound of war. Decades of training was not enough to prevent the breath caught in my throat as I watched the two fronts collide in the valley below. Where before I had prided myself on my keen eyesight, now I prayed to forget my first sight of war blood. I was not ready. I was a fool to think I was.
I felt my gut clench as Veerna, my horse, sped down the hill, the throng of soldiers a swarming beast in itself, speeding towards me. I gripped the elven sword at my side, its smooth familiar hilt a comfort in my shaking hand. And then it hit me. The smell. The stench of blood and fear nearly making me retch. I cursed myself and forced my stomach down, drawing my sword.
'Focus…pick a target, and focus.'
My breathing slowed. My legs pumped in rhythm with Veerna. My eyes locked on to rampaging enemy soldier and all went silent. I felt my blade slide through flesh as easily as a sheath. He roared and swung his axe at Veerna, who bucked and brought a heavy hoof down on his head. The sound of shattering bone cut through the air as he fell limp.
I stared in near shock at it. At what I had just done.
"Sulaer! Watch ou—!"
My comrade Roygas’s voice called me out of my stupor just in time for me to dodge a flying arrow. Roygas slammed his sword into the archer’s shoulder, kicking him away.
"Focus, Sulaer! You can’t afford to misstep ‘cause they won’t!"
He was right. Every attacker swung with precision. And every one had dead eyes. They were merely puppets now. And the puppetmaster…
Through the sea of battle, I saw him. Perched poised and snug atop an overlooking cliff, the aged but powerful sorcerer commanded his brainwashed army of men.
I tightened my grip on my sword and the reins.
'If I can take him out, the whole army will fall.'
How naive I was. And yet I charged forward. Fully intending to slay, or at least maim, a high sorcerer with twice my age. Galloping at top speed, I conjured lighting that danced around my raised blade, magic pulsing from my chest.
I was a fool.
But realization came too late. His eyes met mine and I felt true fear stab my chest. With a smirk, he raised a hand. In slow-motion I watched a spiral of light and darkness swirl and expand before me. I felt Veerna’s muscles lock and myself heave forward as I flew from her back, tumbling into the vortex.
I could not stop it. Even the scream that ravaged my throat was lost into the void. Lost. First sound. Then all light. Then all sense of direction. For a brief moment I was weightless. I was empty. I consisted of nothing. Then I felt it, a pull. A faint tickle that soon clutched and slung me as gravity found its hold. Light peeked through my firmly shut eyelids. Red, blue, yellow, a whole rainbow of colors whizzed by followed by a flash of white, a loud thud, and the scraping of leather on dirt.