Sorcha's Secret World, Part 2: Mystery and Mischief.

Chapter 26, I am Vengeance.

I blinked against the sun that was shining brightly on the battlefield. The once pristine snow was now slowly turning red, as the battle raged before me.
Midgardian and Asgardian soldiers were fighting side by side, valiantly fighting the undead army that had fallen upon them like a wave.

I channelled my anima through my voice until it could be heard over the battlefield, louder than the sounds of battle, deafening like thunder.

"My name is Sorcha, Goddess Queen of Jotunnheim. Harken to my voice and despair!
In the walls of the hold behind me lie the remains of my beloved husband Loki, God of Mischief. Weep, and pray to any god who might listen to have mercy on your souls, for I have none!"
I raised my hands to the skies, which instantly turned dark as night.
"My name is the Morrigan, and I am Vengeance!"

Thick drops of blood came raining from the darkened skies, sizzling as they burned through armour and skin alike as if made from acid.
Balls of fire rained down between them, not differentiating between friend or foe.
I had never felt this powerful. Between the necklace, the circlet with the Friezegem on my brow, and the rage within me fuelling my anima to new heights, I possessed a strength unlike any I have ever wielded before.
I smiled in satisfaction as body after body fell into the snow, not to rise again.
And still, they came.

Blinded by my anger, blinded by my rage, I saw not that I was killing our own men as well as our enemies, all I could see was the ranks of Hel's army advancing towards me, their numbers replenished almost as quickly as I could kill them.

"Get our men off the field, retreat!" Matt barked as he watched with horror as saw his own men fall by my hand.
Hogun was trying to lead his men towards Jotunnhold as well, hoping to escape the unrelenting rain of fire and blood that fell on them as so many tears falling from the skies.
Tears I could not cry.

Unhearing, unseeing, I pulled in even more anima and rose up as I took flight. It was impossible to retain the rain of fire and blood and fly at the same time. Instead, I pulled upon the innate power of my Frost Giant form to cast my spells. Fire and blood magic did not come naturally to a Jotunn, but frost and ice did and there was plenty of that around to use to my advantage.
Hel's troops stumbled and fell as the snow and ice beneath them began to churn. Freezing cold winds began to howl around me, icy shards sharp as glass swirling within the storm, rending decomposing flesh and tearing at rotten cloth as I flew over Hel's armies, tearing her soldiers apart until they moved no more.
And still, they came.

I was killing Hel's troops faster than they could advance, and slowly I moved further away from the hold, but there was no end to the undead in sight.
Now that the rains of fire and blood had ended, the Valkyrie flew behind me and my own army slowly followed.
Dimly aware of them I directed my storm forward, some part of me understanding the people behind me were on my side, knowing any undead left standing in my onslaught would be dealt with by my soldiers.

I nearly cackled as I saw my first real challenge: a dracolich was flying above Hel's armies, its skeletal wings slowly beating with powerful strokes as it came towards me.
I stopped channelling the storm that raged beneath me and sped up as I flew towards it. The dracolich opened its boney maw and a blast of deadly frost came surging towards me. For a moment I was tossed around in the air, failing to maintain my position. But the cold could not hurt me, and once the dragon breath ended, I was still alive and up in the air.
I gathered my own anima and frostfire streamed from my hands, engulfing the undead dragon as it screamed in pain. It tumbled down for a moment but caught itself just before it hit the ground, rising up again in a terrible rage.
But I had an anger of my own raging within me.
Again I gathered my anima, and another stream of frostfire came from my hands, this time focused purely on one of the dragon's wings.
The dragon bellowed in rage and pain as the wing tore right off and the dragon plummeted to the ground, crushing several of its own soldiers as it trashed in the snow.
Seeing my chance, I dove towards it and used the staff in my hand. The gem on Laufey's staff began to glow with an eerie light as it absorbed the anima from the undead creature that was trashing below me. Unable to halt its unlife being drained the dragon stopped moving, its bones crumbling to dust as the last of its magic was absorbed.
And still, they came.