“Why did you bring me here, Amora?” he sighed with disinterest as he cleaned a layer of fresh, warm blood from his sword. The weapon seemed to gleam with its own malevolent intent, while the burning reflection of the afternoon sun’s orange light set the sword on fire.
He was noticeably tall, and even more noticeably brawny. He stood easily at 7’2”, a height made more intimidating by a hyper-Herculean physique. His legs were thick and muscular enough to resemble tree trunks, and his arms, burly and mighty, were infamous for their effortless ability to bring mountains crumbling to dust at his feet. His arms remained more infamous still for wielding the bloodthirsty axe strapped to his back, as well as the renowned, with terror and hate, sword in his hands, gifted with horrifying enchantments by the most powerful sorceress on Asgard, who he stood beside now.
“Are you as blind as you are stupid, Valdar? This is the perfect place for us,” she said coolly, her emerald eyes glimmering. She was considerably shorter than him, however still several inches taller than even the most statuesque of human women. Her golden-blonde hair fell in heavenly glory past her shoulders and just above her sensual hips, which created the arrestingly-alluring curves of her amorous physique. With a desirable chest and lengthy, lithe legs, her figure was more enticing than that of even the most appealing human woman. Her body seemed to be the physical embodiment of all sensuality and desire. However it faltered in comparison to the divine beauty of her face.
The height of her cheekbones and definition of her jawline gave her the inhuman grace of a statue carved by the hands of a god. Her supple, straight nose and luscious, pouty lips adorned her face with an irresistibly-charming glamour. And her eyes, upturned and shaped with sublime elegance and allure, seemed to hold within them the unforgiving beauty of a woman who was, consciously or subconsciously, aware of the fact that on her lips all things were good and with her appearance all things were available to her without ever having to ask. The entrancing depth and viridescent glory of her irises immortalized her eyes as the most irresistibly-captivating of all her angelic features. It was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance -- one look at the amour of her body and the grace of her face making it clear she was no woman, but a goddess.
“Looks like any other Midguard slum to me.”
“That’s because you have an idiot’s eyes, to match your idiot’s brain.”
He sheathed his sword with an annoyed grunt, but held his tongue.
“This Midgard slum, Valdar, is the only country on this godforsaken earth whose palace can even begin to properly seat a god. Which is why it will be the first we take,” she said matter-of-factly, her leveled tone never leaving any room for questioning.
He had heard these ideas from her on several occasions, and took them in little more severity than he did the times before.
“Amora, I still don’t understand your interest in Midgard lately. No one thinks lower of this earth than you. Why would you leave the glory of Asgard for this?”
She let his words linger, opting not to tend to them as she stepped several paces away from him. From the mountainside they stood on, the near entirety of the nation Elysia was visible below them. The setting sun cast its divine light upon the magnificent country, illuminating its every road and structure. However lit most dramatically was the indomitable castle watching over its kingdom, towering with all the nobility and strength of those castles built centuries before its time. The palace was a marvel suitable for the wondrous country which it governed.
Amora looked down upon Elysia without so much as a spark of admiration in her eyes. Within her emerald irises gleamed contempt; contempt for the mortals and their world which she thought so ardently-low of. And alongside this contempt lurked the darkness in her eyes, so flawlessly masked by allure, but filled with malice and cunning and void of mercy or compassion.
Finally resolving to acknowledge her companion’s comment, she spoke with an aloof distance in her voice, knowing her words would satisfy his question but her intelligence would be lost upon falling on his ears, and made no motion to remove her attention from the country resting, like unsuspecting prey, below her.
“Don’t you understand, Valdar, love? Midgard is our key to unlocking the Asgardian throne. And the Elysian throne is the key to unlocking Midgard.”
Log in to comment