= = = = = = =
Prelude
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	Carried by the gusty winter winds, the roar of the waves resonated
across the rocky beach.  The pounding surf frothed and hissed, spraying
salty mists onto the desolate shore. 

	The three brothers paused their walk and scanned across the
endless sands, gazing at their creation.  "'Tis a sight to remember," 
said one brother, his long blonde hair waving across his effeminate face. 

	"Yet it is empty as the Great Chasm," mused another.  He scratched
his beard and turned to the blonde man.  "Do you not agree, Ve?  I would
trade this Midgard for a nest of jotuns, Vanir and demons."  The bearded
man cracked his callused knuckles and gruffly chuckled.  "I do miss the
hunt and the battle, the sound of splitting skulls.  It is too quiet in
Asgard." 

	The last brother spoke, "Then let us make a thing."  He coolly
gazed at the blonde and the bearded man with his singular blue eye.  "If
you would aid me, Ve and Vili."

	Vili guffawed.  "Odin, you and your petty dreams.  Is it not
enough we helped you in forming this world from the carcass of that
monster?" 

	"What do you desire, Odin?" asked Ve.  "What thing do you have in
mind?" 

	Odin pointed toward two logs half buried in the sands.  "To form
creatures from these.  Let us endow them with gifts and allow them to roam
this world.  Maybe in time they can become some use to us." 

	Vili grunted and creased his brow.  "Warriors.  Intelligent
warriors, not like Thor.  We need warriors to crush our enemies," he
muttered.  Vili crossed his arms and boomed, "I will aid you, Odin."  Ve
silently nodded in agreement. 

	So the three brothers worked.  They freed the logs from the sands
and gave them the breath of life.  Vili endowed them with thought and
motion, while Ve gave them emotion, appearance and speech.  Finally, Odin
instilled blood, imagination and spirit into them. 

	They were named Ask and Embla. 

= = =
Eons Later
= = =

	Ghostly wisps of smoke cloaked the ground known as Gladdnir.  It
was once a meadow full of flowers, a jewel in Asgard and a popular meeting
place of the Aesir.  It used to be a happy place, once filled with the
laughter of the young and the gentle bell chimes of the prized red cows. 

	No longer....

	Ve blankly stared at the blackened ground, soaked with the blood
and gore of the Aesir and the Vanir. 

	"Gone.  She is gone." 

	Ve stumbled by the corpses, once noble gods and goddesses.  A soft
sigh of lament escaped his lips.  Many of his friends were dead.  There
was Adalstein, his chiseled stone face cloven in half.  The proud Valkyrie
Gunnhildr, pierced through the heart by a cursed Vanir spear.  And Frevari
the dwarf, his diminutive form mangled by hand-axes. 

	Too many.  Too many dead.  Elvidnir must be full, he thought,
teeming with the souls of the dead.  Ve grimaced in rage.  The fire jotun
Surt must be rejoicing at the sight, he brooded.  More dead to taunt, more
dead to torment, more dead to show eternal misery in the dark caves of
Niflheim. 

	The Vanir were responsible. 

	"Frida, my love...." 

	Footsteps.  Ve gripped his crimson sword and waited.  He tensed,
ready to deliver the killing blow when he recognized the figure.  It was
Heimdall the Messenger, the child of the Nine Sisters.

	"Sir!  Sir!  I've been searching for you since the withdrawal!" 
Heimdall gasped. 

	Ve ignored him. 

	The young god tugged at Ve's torn cloak.  "Sir, please!  We must
hurry!  We have to go back!" he pleaded.  "The Council is planning a
strike against Vanaheim!"

	"Silence you fool!" hissed Ve.  Heimdall shrank back in fear.  Ve
gazed across the battlefield and swore, "The Vanir will pay dearly for
killing Frida.  I will not rest till they are reduced to dust."  He turned
to the direction of Vanaheim in the distance, beyond the misty Azmuth
Plain.  "It ends now."  He gritted his teeth and walked across the bloody
meadow toward Vanaheim. 

	Stunned, Heimdall stood helplessly and cried out after Ve. 
"Please come back!  Please!" 

	"Worry him not child.  Go back." 

	Heimdall started in surprise as he turned to the voice.  He gaped
in awe.

	The Norns. 

	The three women stood before him, garbed in dark gray robes and
long catskin hoods that concealed their faces in shadow.  One of the Norns
gestured with her hand.  "Inform the Council of Ve's departure, Heimdall." 

	The young messenger hurriedly bowed and ran from the battlefield
as swiftly as he could.  He dared not disobey the Norns, though they were
outsider jotuns and not of the Aesir.  As Heimdall neared the Urda Well,
all he hoped for was to avoid a beating from the enraged elders of Aesir. 


	The Norns eyed the diminishing form of Heimdall till he was
swallowed by the vaporous smoke.  "We were too late, eldest sister," 
remarked one Norn.  She tugged a thick braid of her black hair in
irritation.  "Ve shall die a berserker, killing the Vanir to his last
breath."

	The Norn with silver-white hair cascading out of her hood sighed. 
She stared toward the mist-veiled Vanaheim.  "His life thread is fated to
end," she murmured. 

	"In his heroic death, Ve shall find triumph," replied the other. 
She chanted in ancient runic and drew a minor spell of Seidr.  She gave a
sharp nod as if satisfied and stated, "A great feast awaits him in the
halls of Niflheim."

	The last Norn softly spoke, "The Council.  Will not their changes
bring his Rebirth?"  She paused and continued in a subdued tone.  "And
theirs as well?"  She swiped her pale delicate arm to indicate the dead
deities strewn across Gladdnir.  "They gave their lives in vain." 

	"It remains to be seen.  The Tree might not bend to the Council's
design," said the youngest Norn.  She turned to her eldest sibling.  "The
Seidr is strongest in you, Urda.  A Circle might tell us the final fate of
his spirit." 

	"..." 

	"Let us return to the Roots, sisters.  We must tend to the wells
and spin the threads," said the pale Norn.  Her younger sibling nodded and
added, "As well as observing the Council." 

	The eldest of the Norns tore her clouded eyes from Vanaheim and
deeply sighed.  "The taint of death is strong.  This place shall remain
barren."


	The Norns melted into the mists, leaving the dead at their final
resting place.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

MSS Productions

A division of SIPP

presents

Twilight

an Ah! My Goddess
Fanfiction

by
wx721

Certain characters are copyrighted by Kosuke Fujishima and Robert Jordan.
Norse deities are lifted from the Eddas and other Norse resources.
Alterations are entirely the fault of the author's brain.

For more Norse information, please go to Yahoo and enter the search words
'norse myth,' or visit Encyclopedia Mythica at http://www.pantheon.org/

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Chapter One -- completed
Chapter Two -- in production

wx721 will start posting chapters when he is finished with chapter three
or four.  wx721 is not subscribed to the list.  please send comments /
suggestions to suh1@uiuc.edu