~Ylva's POV~
The wind ripped through my short hair as I ran, my feet practically flying off the ground at such a fast pace, it was almost un-asgardian. My breathing was ragged and my heartbeat was racing as I ran faster, daring to peer behind me.
There were more than two of them chasing me, looks of absolute hatred on their ugly grey/green/blue/white faces. I gasped in fear, turning back only to skid to a stop. I peered over the edge, my hands shaking with fear. My fight or flight instincts kicked in and I scrambled to my feet, drawing my twin double-bladed swords off of my back. But before I could do anything, there was a splitting pain shooting through my torso and I looked down to see a sword sticking out of my stomach, blood coating the blade.
'No, this cannot be the end. I cannot die like this.' I thought, my final cry being, "Fritjof! NOOOOO!!!!!!!!"
I snapped awake, my breathing heavy and ragged while pain flared up in my right side. A hand pushed me back down so I was laying down and Fritjof's short, black haired head appeared in my vision, his normally wild hair tamed and pulled back in a ponytail.
"I'm glad to see you're awake. But you really shouldn't be sitting up. The...di-n't...rk." He muttered the last bit, looking away and sighing.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but the frost had only spread more. I can't stop it." I saw his breath hitch in his chest and watched as he turned away, his shoulders quivering slightly. My breathing hitched in my own chest when I realized he was crying.
ČTEŠ
Myths and Tales
DobrodružnéWell you see I got bored and was watching Merlin when I got this great idea for a story based off of Norse mythology and it goes like this; A group of friends, all from the different ancient Norse Houses, even the long forgotten House of the Wolf, a...
