Walk from the Darkness | Thor & Fandral, ft. Loki & the Bloodwraith
March 10th, 2017
Thor was standing in the countryside of the British Isles. A broken castle sat before him, and he had been staring at it for some time. His fingers absently ran across his neck, where he could feel a bruise forming. His body was still covered in blood - though most of it was an illusion, some of it was real. Whatever being took hold of Fandral was eating him alive from the inside.
“This gloomy old thing is where that beast wants to rule?” A voice asked, breaking Thor’s gaze. He looked to the ground, staring at Loki’s boots.
“The true castle is in a pocket dimension. This is merely a façade.”
Thor had scoped out the area already when he arrived. The entrance to the next dimension was hidden well within the fake tomb of someone named King Arthur. An hour had passed, he didn’t know what took his brother so long, but he still had the Chitauri staff with him. He must’ve been speaking with Odin, but he didn’t want to ask. He stared straight ahead again.
Both began walking into the ruins, neither one speaking. Thor thought about the twins and how their birthday was in two days, and how upset Jane would be if he missed that. After everything he expressed to her…it would shatter her heart.
Over the past eight months, he had been scraping to find himself. He lost himself somewhere. Perhaps it was the day Fandral went off the deep end and no longer having his oldest confidant available to him. Or maybe it was when he cried the night Jane was arrested, and the twins were crying for him. Maybe - just maybe - it was the day he came to Midgard years ago, before anything begun to happen; when Stark Tower still stood and Shield was whole.
These thoughts pressed against his skull as they traversed into the crypt beneath a small church. There were two lines of tombs running along the wall. It was almost pitch black, and Loki created a light with his magic. They walked along until they found a solid wood door, untouched by time. There was a lock on the door, but the lock had been broken. Upon looking down, he finally noticed the streaks of blood on the floor. He went for the handle, and Loki placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Isn’t this what he’s been looking for?”
Thor paused. He remembered the seconds where Fandral was separated from the Wraith. He had pain and desperation in his eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t seen daylight in centuries. Nobody deserved that fate.
Over his shoulder, he replied, “I can’t leave him like this.”
He pushed the door open to reveal a room that felt as if it were a door passing through reality. The air around them swelled with energy and magic. The walls were like waves, flowing between universes. On one side of the wave, the room was stone and dark; on the other, torches illuminated the area brightly. In the center was a coffin, presumably the placeholder for the previous King. Across the room, another door faded in and out of existence.
As they walked from one side to the other, the lighted room was the dominant illusion. The door that once moved with the room solidified, while the one they walked through faded. The two looked at each other, seeing the same streaks of blood as before. Without hesitation, Thor took the handle and pushed the door open.
Thor blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the new room. It looked to be the same tomb they walked through before, but this one was brightly colored and well lit. The stairs at the end of the hall glowed with the luminance of daylight.
Strange how the two worlds were connected, yet their time was off-sync. He wondered how long this place had been sitting dormant - it must’ve been created within the last thousand years. The stonework and decor was pristine, save for the blood marks left by the intruder. Even the air around them felt cleaner than the world they had just left.
Thor led the way up the stone steps, which had a red carpet lining them perfectly. The castle, despite its preservation, was completely abandoned. Perhaps it was an effect of the original spell. He was curious as to the conditions under which this castle was separated from the main reality, but the history would have to wait. They walked through the church and into a hallway. The streaks went to the left, which they followed down until they saw a grand archway. It must’ve been the throne room. The creature could be heard now; its loud breathing echoed through the halls.
Loki walked ahead now, quietly stepping along the carpet towards the arch. Thor followed closely behind, and the two peered inside. The dark red smoke was billowing out from the back end of the room, though the tendrils didn’t quite reach the exit. Fandral was sitting on a red throne, and the red shadowy monster was looming behind. The wraith leaked blood, the crimson color overtaking the bright red of the decor.
“I think I can get Fandral for a few more seconds with my scepter. I could feel his presence was weak,” Loki whispered.
Thor nodded. “See if you can find another way around. I shall distract him.”
Loki nodded in return, and without another word headed back towards the church. Once he was out of sight, Thor looked back to the throne room. Worst case scenario, the wraith engages immediately. He straightened himself, gripping Mjolnir tightly. With heavy steps, he turned the corner and through the archway.
– –
“I was wondering when you would find me,” Fandral’s voice filled the room. “I was beginning to wonder if there was anyone left in this world to kill.”
Thor stopped at the foot of the throne, where the smoke went halfway up his calves. “Only one of us here needs to die today.”
Fandral laughed. “You wouldn’t kill me, would you? I am your Fandral, after all…am I not?”
“You are not Fandral,” Thor snarled. “You have possessed him - you, Wraith, whatever you call yourself, are nothing like him. He would never slaughter thousands of innocent people!”
“Oh, but he has. The bloodwraith can only be awakened by the killing of thousands. You see, the ebony blade collects souls of the dead. It craves death because that was how Merlin enchanted it centuries ago. The most powerful sword in existence comes with the most deadly cost. It was carelessly given to a warrior who had served in hundreds of wars over thousands of years. Fandral is not revered as the best swordsman for nothing.”
One of the pieces Thor couldn’t put together was why it reacted to Fandral so much differently than the Black Knight. He realised that it was a cumulative total, much like Mjolnir. His good deeds compounded were the reason he could lift the hammer. He was overtaken by the sword so quickly, and Thor was too busy planning his wedding to see how much his friend was hurting…
…but the sword must have a failsafe of some sort. Enchanted weapons of this magnitude needed something for rebalance. He remembered Fandral’s warning. If there was anywhere in the universes that sword could be ‘cleansed’, it would have to be in Camelot.
Fandral stood and stepped to the edge of the stairs. Thor had counted fifteen stairs - fifteen steps between him and the wraith.
“You know how I can tell Fandral is still alive?” He asked.
Thor didn’t respond. Instead, he locked eyes with Loki, who was standing on a balcony above the throne.
“I can hear his thoughts. I know everything he knows. For some blasted reason, he is holding onto this life. I can hear him screaming somewhere in my head. He calls for you more than anyone. He thinks of you as his savior, even though you sat dormant for months. It wasn’t until I attacked Asgard that you finally decided to care about the worlds I destroyed.”
The last statement hit Thor harder than he would have liked. His hammer crackled with lightning. He leapt - landing on the third step, and jumping into the air. He brung the hammer up over his head and it crashed down hard on Fandral. It hit him between the head and shoulder, when he leaned to cover his face. The force knocked the imposter to the ground, meanwhile a large red hand swung at Thor. A green and gold blur appeared in front of him as he was knocked backwards and halfway back down the stairs. He saw a blue glow and once again the wraith dropped out of sight.
Thor quickly got to his feet again and ran up the steps again.
“Brazier of Truth - inside the church,” he heard Fandral sputter. Thor made it to the top of the steps before he could hear everything. He locked eyes with Fandral. “It can only be lit by someone worthy.”
The green shimmer in Fandral’s eyes dulled as they clouded over. At the same time the effect wore off, Loki scrambled over to Thor.
“To the church - now!” Loki directed. Thor lingered for a moment, watching as Fandral transformed. Nothing physically changed…but the aura around him made him look like a complete stranger. As the wraith rose from the ground, Thor ran down the steps, following Loki.
“What did he say?” Thor asked.
“The sword must be cleansed. We have to get it away from him and cast it into the fire of the Brazier of Truth.”
“Which can only be lit by someone worthy?”
Loki nodded. “Precisely.”
The two turned into the church and looked around. There was a podium in the center, and off in the corner sat a metal fire pit. Not seeing anything else, Thor assumed that was the Brazier. Some logs sat inside already, pristine and perfectly cut. He could hear the echoes of the creature coming towards them. He ran to the wall and picked up a torch. He stood over the brazier for a moment, glancing at Mjolnir. He didn’t have time to wonder if ‘worthy’ transcended time and space. He dipped the torch into the logs.
A heavy blaze shot out of the brazier just as the wraith made it to the church. It snarled back in fear. He heard Fandral shouting No! as the echoing footsteps shifted to a sprint. While Thor was figuring out the flame, Loki had been preparing something of his own. Six blasts of energy shot through the room, all landing directly on Fandral, who yelped in pain.
Thor stepped around the flame and readied his hammer. “Give up the sword,” He demanded.
“Never.” Fandral looked up. He leapt forward, pulling the sword from its sheath. The sword slashed horizontally through the air, and Thor jumped backwards, but he was barely too slow. The blade had cut straight through his armor, and a razor thin wound showed through.
Thor didn’t hesitate to swing the hammer once more. He swung four times, knocking Fandral back a ways. He waited a few seconds for Loki to let off another blast from him and his clones. The wraith itself was still at the entrance, staring in fear that the brilliant flame.
The Fandral imposter wasn’t ready to give up just yet. The battle continued, and at no point did the wraith budge from the door. This made Fandral easier to take down. Thor and Loki both fought.
Fandral tried to hop over the pews to directly get to the fire. Thor threw Mjolnir, breaking the wood and he crashed to the ground. He recalled Mjolnir quickly, only to place it back down on the imposter’s back. He wriggled around a bit, trying to break himself free, but it was no use. Thor stepped down on his right wrist - the one holding the ebony blade.
“If you take this sword, you will be cursed as well,” Fandral said, struggling for air. “The moment you take the sword, you will be forced to kill me. Within minutes, the Wraith will mold to your entire being.”
It took months before Fandral’s corruption took hold. But, since the wraith was already manifested, perhaps he was telling the truth. He did remember Fandral killing the Black Knight immediately…
Thor looked at the blade and then to the fire, still gleaming ten feet away. While he was caught in the moral dilemma of whether or not to take the sword himself, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll do it.”
Thor inhaled sharply. “Loki…don’t be foolish.”
“My mind is stronger than yours. Should I falter, you’re strong enough to overpower me. Drag me, push me, or even throw me in. Whatever you have to…just don’t touch the sword.”
“The two of you will both be connected until the sword is cleansed. If this fails…”
“It won’t,” Loki said.
Thor finally turned to Loki. The scepter was sitting on the pew behind him, and his eyes were glowing yellow. He used his scepter on himself…why?
Loki stepped past Thor and knelt down. He watched his brother, who hesitated for a moment before wresting the hilt from Fandral’s hand. He groaned and staggered backwards. A dark aura started to manifest at his feet - the shadow of the wraith was spreading. Loki’s hand was shaking, and Thor lurched forward and grabbed his brother by the waist. He was resisting and the glowing of his eyes began to dull.
The blaze grew bigger and sputtered about as the blade drew closer. Thor firmly planted himself behind Loki, who appeared to be at war with himself. The shadow was growing bigger in the room, and the wraith was getting stronger.
“Loki! Now!”
A hot white flash overtook the room.
Thor threw his hands in front of his face and stepped backwards.
When he opened his eyes again, Loki was lying on the ground, and the sword was sticking out of the extinguished brazier. The entire room was filled with thousands of pale orbs, floating up into the rafters and out into the hallway. Two of the orbs in front of him molded and grew until they took a humanoid form in front of him. One looked like an ancient knight, while the other he vaguely recognized from Midgard.
“My name is Sir Percy of Scandia. This is Dane Whitman. We are the two former wielders of the ebony blade. Thank you for setting all of us free.”
Thor squinted. “Are you the souls that were trapped?”
“Indeed,” Dane replied. “Thanks to you, we are now able to pass on into the afterlife.”
“I am glad to have helped you.” He turned to see Fandral lying still on the ground. He recalled Mjolnir before turning to the ghosts again. “Will he be alright?”
“He was trapped for a long time. He will regain consciousness soon, but he may not be the same right away. Your companion, I am not sure. His mind was shielded from the blade’s curse. Whatever allowed him to do that must have required a lot of energy,” Percy said.
Thor frowned. “And what shall I do with the sword?”
“Your companions should be able to touch it without issue. Their death toll can no longer count against the sword now that the souls have been freed. You, however, will restart this chain reaction again.”
“Be well, son of Odin.”
Thor bowed his head. He was confused, but at least he knew not to touch the sword. Perhaps someone would be able to break the curse. He placed Mjolnir on the ground next to Loki and rolled him onto his back and watched him for a moment. He was still breathing and he groaned as he was moved. He had a lot of questions for Loki, but for the time being he was satisfied.
He went over to Fandral and gently rolled him onto his back. He couldn’t see his chest rising or falling. Thor then let his hand hover over his friend’s mouth, and he could feel faint breaths.
