Solitude

Note: This is set in the universe of The Prophecies of Ragnarok, a fantasy book series I co-wrote, but this is not canon and is instead an alternate take on the events of the books, inspired by Chaminade's Solitude.

What if the Worlds burned during Ragnarok, leaving Hel stranded in Niflheim alongside her loyal assistant and companion, Germaine? Warning for themes of death and imagery of the aftermath of war.

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"So this is how the world ends."

Ash rained down from the sky. Smoke hung low in the air, dark and cloying with rot. The grass and trees across the riverbank were charred and smoldering. The river, now stained crimson, ferried evidence of carnage: cleaved heads, severed limbs, flesh and meat and bone. Germaine stared at a body for a little too long that bile rose up her throat, and not even her well-practiced demeanor of efficiency and control prevented her from hurling her guts into the water.

Next to her, Hel knelt, unmoving. Garmr's massive head was on the goddess' lap; the hound lay as though merely sleeping, but she was drenched in his blood, and she hadn't bothered to wipe it off her skin. Standing between her and the now poisonous water of the river was a plant with a small, silver flower. It was among the last living creatures in their realm.

"Madame," began Germaine, hoping to shake her mistress out of her stupor. Met with silence, she waited for a moment before trying again. "Perhaps we should—"

"Will it hurt?"

Germaine turned to look at her goddess' half-scarred, bloodstained face. There was neither fear nor anger there, only... resignation. This was the end, one that had been long foretold by the Norns, the harbingers of fate, and perhaps, regardless of the outcome of the war, that had brought Hel some measure of peace. The fighting was at last at an end. The pain, the suffering, the rage — all that would soon be gone, too.

In this place, no one remembered how they died. They both knew this, but they humored each other anyway. "No," Germaine answered, only with a slight quiver to her voice. Though the world was dying, she continued as if another day was dawning upon Niflheim and they were merely discussing administrative matters. Another dispute in Paris. The new influx of souls from a plane crash, the passengers fretting over their lost luggage. Shakespeare's permit and request for funding for the production of his next play. "It is the most natural thing in the world. It is the way of things."

Hel nodded. "All things end, and all must die." She met Germaine's gaze. "Do you fear it?"

Not when I have you, thought Germaine.

Together, they sat until the fires died and there was nothing left but darkness and a bone-chilling cold. Shadows smothered the flower Hel had been so keen on protecting, its petals crumbling into silver glitter before spilling into the river. Shivering and coughing, Germaine lowered herself to the ground and curled up to conserve what little remained of her strength. When Hel stretched out a burn-scarred hand, she reached for it and held on for dear life. "Madame," she whispered, frightened after all.

"Thank you," said Hel, squeezing her frail, mortal hand. "It will be over soon, dear friend. You can rest now."

Germaine could no longer fight off the weariness. She did not want to leave her goddess alone. She had sworn to perform her duty to her dying breath. But there was nothing else she could do now. "What becomes of you, Madame?"

Hel's voice sounded small and far away. Or was it the wind, which had whispered to the goddess for eons? Germaine would never know.

"I die, as we all."

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Hi! I'm Marie, a Filipino SFFH author and book reviewer currently based in the UK. I’m the co-author of The Prophecies of Ragnarok, a Norse myth new adult urban fantasy trilogy, and I also have several short stories published in anthologies and literary journals.

You can find more info about me and my books, and also subscribe to my newsletter for more content, here. And if you like what I do, please also consider supporting me on Ko-fi! 🩷 https://ko-fi.com/mariesinadjan

If you fancy a short read, I have a cozy reimagining of the Norse myths about Hel, but it's just under 70 pages and can be read in one sitting. ✨

All things end, and all must die.

But death is not always the end.

When Geiravor Lokisdottir was stripped of her name and cast out of Asgard, torn from her family and the life she had known, she thought she’d lost it all. But in the shadows of Niflheim she discovers the path to her destiny, and what it truly means to be queen.

This is a prequel short story to THE PROPHECIES OF RAGNAROK trilogy by Meri Benson and Marie Sinadjan, and a retelling of the myths involving Hel, the Norse goddess of death and the queen of the underworld.