Summer heat consumed the coast of California. The sun's hot rays bore down on the sidewalk without the slightest bit of mercy. A heatwave had been raging through the state for quite some time, but nobody could give an answer as to its mysterious origin. Even the most hard boiled of Californians were rushing indoors to their air conditioned homes and even public spaces to beat this heat. Comfort came when night descended down, but even then, the air itself was producing a distinct warm mist.

In a few hours it was going to be her birthday. A young woman's eyes linger upon a photograph. A young lady like herself, all on her own. Her smile eternally shown through that picture, but it only served as a terrible reminder of what she had lost. A permanent portrait of someone who could never be there for her on her birthdays. The blonde had been living with her aunt for most of her life, having no other family to claim her. She hadn't even a photo of her father to frame.

She had t.A.T.u softly playing on her ashy white earbuds, as she peered her head from the balcony of her home. She moved her head forwards to see the city lights come on one by one as the darkness grew thicker and thicker; the sweet sounds of Yulia and Lena blessing her ears as she did so.

She pulled out one bud and walked on over to her bedroom as she let out a sigh. The heatwave had trapped her in the house for the entire day, and she already had plans to go out with her friends that had met the same fate as the heat had only worsened. She plopped herself down on her bed and grabbed a book she had been working through since the last week. Lost Horizon by  James Hilton. It was a bit dated, but it was a classic for a reason nonetheless.

Her journey through sentences was interrupted as a knock was heard upon her door. She'd been stuck inside so long that she could recognize who was knocking just by hearing the aforementioned knocks. "You can come in, Sandra."

Sandra was a simple woman. Everything one needed to know about her could be found in just about every mother character in a sitcom. She was dated, cliche, but at the end of the day, she was kind and had a heart where it mattered. She gingerly entered the room of her niece and warmly smiled at her. She sat down next to her niece, and placed a warm hand upon her back. "You know you can call me mom if you want to. I don't mind it at all."

Ashild raised her head weakly, her eyes drifting towards the endless sea of carpet floor in her bedroom, accentuated by the occasional island of lazily strewn magazines. "I know...it's just..."

Sandra gave a nod, her smile becoming less pronounced and all the more subtle as she looked upon who she viewed as her surrogate daughter. She knew her sister was a strong woman, intelligent, as well as brave. In her heart of hearts she believed Ashild possessed those same qualities. Even though the child barely knew her biological mother, there was an unmistakable bond they had together that once severed had irreparably changed her. She was that brave, smart, strong girl at times, but there was always dark thoughts that rose from the depths every now and again. She would fight for her until the day they stopped coming. "You've been locked up inside all day. I think losing the cabin fever will do you some good." Sandra said reassuringly.

"But its late and the deadline of my applications is coming up soon. I was going to work on them after I got some light reading done but-"

"They're still going to be there when you come back. This shitty heatwave has us all in a fritz. One night of fun with your friends isn't going to kill you. Promise me, I lived through the eighties, I know a thing or two." She replied with a wink.

Ashild smiled at Sandra, and gave her a brief, but firm hug. "Thanks...mom."

Her aunt beamed warmly upon hearing those words. "I won't keep you any further, and if you need me I'm just one call away." She said, pulling away from her niece and exiting the room.

Ashild got up excitedly and immediately rushed on over to the closet, where droves upon droves of clothes had been stored in her own private cove. Her mind raced as she thought of what to wear, and eventually, an outfit just came to her.

She changed into a pair of jet black faux leather sneakers and baggy black pants that partially covered her shoes. Her pants were accentuated with loops chains near her pockets, and the occasional white accent running down her legs. She had several Disney pins on the left side that she always contemplated removing but could never bring herself to do so, even if she was teased about how childish they were.

Ashild frantically searched for a shirt and settled upon a black crop top with a white butterfly print on it. Across from the butterfly there was a chain motif, almost as if to mimic it being stuck in a web. For the piece of resistance, she grabbed a black beanie with a heart stitched onto it.

She looked at herself in the mirror as she put on the beanie, feeling her short, blonde hair get bunched up into it. "Pfft...I look like a dork." She mumbled, before tossing the hat onto her bed where it sank into the space between the end of her bed and the wall, the graveyard of many things unfortunate enough to be thrown across the room by her.

Ashild picked up her phone and began to coordinate where to meet up with her friends. She hated having to lead them, but she was always the first one to step up, making her the de facto leader of her tiny clan of high school friends. It was eventually decided they were going to meet up by the club near the park. One of her friends had snuck some alcohol out of her dad's cabinet and the plan to get wasted was being set into motion.

The blonde had hit the streets not long after. She wasn't used to the streets being so dead. There was always a crowd, the occasional gang of  catcallers, a clique of bimbos or somebody blasting Katy Perry so loud a person could be physically staggered by the sound.

But, there was nothing. Most people had called it a day and went to bed. Her hometown didn't exactly have what most people would call a nightlife. It was strange at first but she eventually warmed up to the feeling of isolation. There was a sort of serenity, being by herself amidst the blanket of darkness, the cooler but still warm air striking her face. Besides, it wouldn't be long before she'd be with her friends again.

Something felt off after a bit of walking. She couldn't exactly pinpoint what or give a name to the feeling that she was having, but she knew that it didn't feel right. Instinctively, she turned her head behind her.

It was just some guy. Some burly jacked Russian wearing a black and white Adidas ensemble probably about to go back home or meet up with his buddies.

She turned her head and went to mind her own business, only to feel the feeling once again. He was still following her. Now that her eyes had lingered a bit on the man, she realized there was a strange quality about him. She couldn't make out a single detail about him other than his clothes. The only reason she thought the man to be Russian was because of all the images of squatting Slavs she had seen online. He maintained the same distance from her at all times, but even then it was close enough to be able to make up some detail about his face.

Ashild proceeded to try and shake him, go the opposite way, start moving away from the club, navigating the town like a labyrinth...but the man did not stop in his pursuit.

She noticed some people at the park after backtracking her way there and immediately began to make her way towards them. The blonde came up from behind them and started laughing profusely before her expression softened. "This guy has been following me for half an hour, can you please pretend that you know me so he leaves me alone?"

The blonde was met with silence and proceeded to grab one of the hands of the people she was with, only to feel it suddenly become cold. She blinked and the small clique had revealed themselves to be stone. But she could have sworn she had seen the pink of their skin in the darkness and she had never known any statues to be in this part of the park. Ashild took cover behind one of the statues, even if they were inanimate at least she could hide behind them.

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in as she collected herself. She took out her phone. She was going to call the police and run like hell to the club where she knew her friends were. However, Ashild had suddenly felt another change to her environment. The moonlight created shadows of the statues had faded, replaced by a single shadow. The man who had been following her the entire time.

Was she losing it? None of this was making sense. Even if the guy was sprinting she would have some time to at least dial 9-1-1. If he did sprint she would have heard his feet through the grass. There was nothing else around, so everything became louder. She blinked again, and there came another change.

There was no longer a burly man. Her pursuer had changed appearance entirely. It was hard to discern whether they were a man or a woman based upon features alone, as they were wholly androgynous. Their hair was a long brown that had been tied tightly into a ponytail bound together with crude straw as opposed to any modern hair bands. Their face was extremely effeminate, with dagger like emerald eyes that seemed to peer into her very soul. They wore earthy brownish greenish robes with sharp shoulder pads that had a massive window exposing a very masculine chest and matching pants. On their sleeves there was a series of insect wings stitched into the very fabric of his top. His pants had a similar motif, but with the hair of goats and agreeable creatures being repurposed into odd frills. Around their neck was a metal collar, and from that collar there were chains that lead to shackles upon their wrist. And their ears, long and pointy just like an elf. "You're a very silly girl aren't you, seeing things that aren't really there. But fret not, the illusions of Puka are a burden that is heavy for all man to bear."

And it seemed like they rhymed too. Great. Ashild had to contend with being chased down by a creep who relentlessly pursued her and could mess with her mind without even being near her. "What do you want from me?!" Ashild shouted, kicking some dirt at their face.

"The blood under your skin is what I desire, that is why I must take you to a land of grim and fire." They replied menacingly.

With a wave of their hand the dust turned into snow, and the now transformed matter was flung right back at her, and as the frost touched Ashild, it began to freeze over into pockets of ice so thick they forced her onto the ground. "You're not half the fighter that I was told you might be, which is a shame as without a fight from this world we shall flee."

Their eyes lit up as they gazed upon the defenseless, blonde woman. From their person they grasped a stone with a carving embedded into it. Ashild had actually seen the symbol before, or at least something like it. They were Nordic runes. Was this person some kind of super spiritual pagan on steroids? A million thoughts raced through her head as she thought about what was going on, until eventually being interrupted by something she didn't expect.

"Shit...I should have gotten this over with much faster." Puka muttered.

Ashild turned her attention to where the eyes of the mysterious individual had lingered, noticing a multicolored light manifest in the distance, resembling the colors or the rainbow vaguely. Another figure emerged from them, and it seemed like whoever it was, her captor didn't like their arrival. A thought popped into her mind as she raised an eyebrow. "Hey wait that didn't rhyme."

Puka glared at the teenage girl. "I loathe nothing more than the prison of consistency, fucking sue me."

They let out a chuckle as they looked at their shackles. "Well maybe the prison of consistency would be more pleasant than these prison chains that bind me even now."

A mystic circle manifested a few feet away from them, beginning as a meager glimmer before shooting forth in the form of a multi colored vortex that burst through the walls of space and time. Emerging from the portal was a singular man. He had long, dirty, blonde hair that reached down to his ass. He was tall as well, standing at least six feet and a half a foot. A rugged appearance marked him, and a look of stoicism was apparent on his face. It was hard to consider him among the living, because he had the countenance of someone who was already dead. Around his deep brown eyes there was some kind of ashy charcoal that formed a shadow around his eyes, making his appearance all the more grim.

He wore a blue tunic from the medieval era, that was torn and tattered, beneath his blue cloth was a black top that was unscathed and matching black pants. In his hands he held a long Danish axe that he grasped with both sets of his fingers.

"It seems Asgard has sent one of its agents to carry out Odin's will." Puka said with a grimace, their hands lighting up with mystical energy as the man charged at them without saying a word.

"Asgard...Odin..." Ashild thought to herself, her mind suddenly shifting towards the strangely dressed people, the Nordic runes she saw.

This was all lifted from the Eddas. This wasn't any mere supernatural experience she was having, the Norse pantheon was real, and they were waging a very real war on Earth through their agents.

Puka smirked as they raised their hands into the air as they prepared to bare down their mystical energies directly onto this interloper. However, the blonde man swung his axe in the opposite direction of where they were in response, his face remaining stoic and cold throughout it all.

Despite being seemingly nowhere near where the axe was going, the elf's eyes lit up in terror. What Ashild saw next had astonished her as the image of Puka shattered and beside them, right in the trajectory of the axe, another Puka revealed itself, cloaked in invisibility. The axe was driven straight across their chest in a brutal slash. "You saw through my illusions...the illusions of Puka are heavy for all men to bear!" They screamed self assuredly, backing away from this fearsome man while clutching their chest.

The elvish individual closed their eyes and allowed the mystic forces to inform them when their eyes gave no answer. "The mind of this man...it's like it's not even here...he's completely divorced from reality...which is why I can't deceive him." They then thought to themselves.

They then opened their lips and smirked. "If I cannot deceive you, then I will simply have to show you that my power is far beyond any fable!" Puka shouted, leaping up into the air and swinging their leg directly towards the axe of the blonde male.

As soon as the axe made contact with his foot, the  blade transformed into a series of thick vine-like tendrils that burst from the wood and began to tangle around the former axe wielder, constricting him tightly.

Ashild had observed closely what had been going on, and she soon realized that the elvish person before her had two distinct abilities. The first and most prominent was that of to cast illusions. The second however, was far less obvious. They turned the dust into a frosty breeze and now the axe into a series of vines. It was matter transmutation, they could reshape the very composition of the building blocks of life itself. "You're not much of a talker, are you big boy?" Puka asked, approaching the third party as they thrust their hands onto the ground that he was beneath, transforming it into a nasty tar.

The tall brooding man before them simply grunted as he struggled against the vines, their juices already beginning to burst from their emerald skin. Puka grasped the hilt of the axe, which had not been yet transformed and restored it to its original shape with a grin upon their face. "Now this will make a good consolation prize for how gravely you've annoyed me. It's quite a sophisticated tool...maybe some relic from Nidavellir?"

"No!"

The man released a feral, foul scream from his mouth as he struggled against the tar, ripping parts of the mass that bound his feet as he rushed towards the axe, there was something oddly personal about that wail that he let out, almost as if a piece of him had been stripped from his body.

"Looks like a struck a nerve. It seems this trinket is far more valuable to you than I had initially thought. Which in turn makes it very valuable to me for the simple desire of possession." Puka replied, a smirk upon their face as they stroked the gash in their chest, transforming the dried blood into vines that stitched the wound back together.

The elvish person began to make their stride back towards their target, Ashild. "Now now, we must leave here quickly before others come. But fret not little one, where I am going few dare to follow."

They placed a hand on the young blonde to grab her, but quickly regretted doing so as they suddenly felt a burning sensation grace their skin. Opening their eyes Puka could see that the woman before her was producing a steam that was protecting her body, no...she was superheating somehow, the very ground beneath her beginning to wither away. "It seems I've arrived too late, we wanted to obtain you before your powers manifested."

"Powers?" Ashild muttered, the blonde looking at her hands as sparks began to materialize with them.

She slowly rose up as the ice that had bound her had melted until it underwent the process of evaporation. Thrusting her hands forwards she felt a powerful surge of flame manifest from them, firing out into the dreadful night and straight towards Puka. She didn't understand the totality of what was going on, but she wasn't going to allow the creep that had pursued her to get away.

The flames eventually subsided after a short while, and the elvish individual had vanished, no trace of them having been left behind from the blast. Ashild got on her knees as she looked at her hands once more, trying to recreate the flames but failing to even produce a spark. It had seemed that whatever had happened was circumstantial and based upon instinct instead of her conscious will. The young blonde continued to gaze upon her hands, starting to breathe in and out slowly as she started to take in everything that had happened to her. As she stood there, the blonde man came towards her. "I need you to come with me."

His voice was soft, almost robotic for a man of his stature. With the darkness around his eyes and his mountainous height, she had thought he would talk in screams. His words held great gravity to them, yes, but they were spoken in half whispers. His eyes only gazed in her general direction, almost as if his mind was gone while his body walked the Earth, like something that was once there had been stripped from him.

In contrast, Ashild did respond with screaming. She immediately threw a fist towards his chest, which he didn't even seem to react to. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you creepazoid!"

The ebon clothed woman felt her hand after she pulled away from him, it hurt like hell, more than it should have. Was this guy made of steel or something? As she ran away from the park and began to make her way back home, she turned to find him simply standing there, not pursuing her at all as she began to travel back to where she wished she never left.

And so she ran and ran, almost flying with how fast she was running. She didn't care about her friends or the strange things she saw or even her life being endangered, she just wanted to go home and get back to her bed and fall asleep, to pretend that everything she had just witnessed was just some terrible nightmare.

Ashild eventually made it home, a lot longer than she had expected with how far she ran and her outfit now stained to the brim with dirt, sweat, and assorted foliage. She opened the door. They lived in a good neighborhood and her aunt was pretty forgetful, so the door was usually left unlocked. She slipped in quietly and closed the door. The last thing she needed right now was talking to her aunt about how she encountered an illusion casting elf and a burly man who seemed to cruise control constantly on early morning energy. She quietly tip-toed up the stairs and across the carpet. She grasped the knob of her bedroom door and gingerly- very gingerly began to open it just enough to squeeze through.

She then proceeded to gently close the door and squeeze it in until it shut. She leaned against her closet and let out a sigh. "I'm so glad all that weird shit is over..."

As Ashild allowed silence to fill the void of stress that had overwhelmed her, the sound of breathing could be heard directly behind her. A set of hands suddenly thrust open the closet doors and shoved her to the ground. It was once again, Puka, now with the axe of the warrior they encountered worn on their leg. "Well there's no better time to come out of the closet than now!"

Ashild immediately began to kick her feet against the floor. "Mom!" She cried out.

Her cries, however, fell on deaf ears. For she was not even home at all. The home around her faded to reveal itself as another one of Puka's illusions. "Once your powers had fully manifested, I could start tracking you down like a bloodhound. There is no place on Midgard that is safe for you now."

The blonde had readied her options. There were two things that she knew right now: the person in front of her really liked to talk and the absent stoic really liked his axe. If she could keep this elvish person talking, she could perhaps buy herself some time before they snatched her off to another world. She at first tried to conjure up a single spark of flame for the alternative option, but had no luck in that department. "Who exactly are you?"

Puka, being themself, was rather eager to answer that. They joyfully gestured to themselves and did a little bow. "I am Puka of Alfheim. Former retainer, squire, and friend of Lord Oberon. Master of magics, illusions, lies, poetry, and transmutations..."

And they just kept going on after that. They spoke in a manner comparable only to a shopping list. Sure, the first few items were easy to remember, but after that everything just became like noise that entered and noise that left just as suddenly. This went on for about half an hour, and Ashild's sour face lit up slightly as she noticed a familiar figure looming behind the elf. "You have something that belongs to me!" The blonde angrily shouted, crossing his arms.

The elf laughed. "Am I supposed to be afraid of a Norseman without a weapon? What are you going to do, yell at me until I give up your precious axe?"

A voice from the distance was soon heard. "It seems like poor Eilert lost his axe. It surprises me, he practically sleeps with the thing."

All heads turned to see three figures looking on a rooftop, all of them hoping down from the small building on which they were situated and arriving upon the ground. "I did not ask for help." The blonde man angrily retorted.

The first of them was Deorwin. He was shorter than the other two but not at all small in stature by any measure. He had thick, red hair that went down to his elbows. Upon his head and upon his neck and upon his arms there were bands and bangles made from gold that were covered with vines, leaves, and flowers. He wore a white and gold tunic with coal black leggings and long brown leather boots.

After him was Ceadda, who was the tallest of the three, but was shorter than the former axe wielder. He had long hair that was reddish but not completely red, resembling a more orange color. He had a floral crown upon his head and a myriad of gold encrusted boar tusks hanging from his neck in the form of necklaces. He dressed himself in a green and gold fur tunic and pants while the others seemed to wear some kind of linen or cloth.

Lastly, there was Aelfflaed, the sole woman of the group. Ashild had found herself lost in the woman's eyes. She had short raven black hair that was raised just above her shoulders with twin bangs reaching down to her chin. She had twin silver pins in her hair, but such things were unremarkable compared to everything else. Her skin was grey, almost like a murky ocean, and she possessed similar ears to that of Puka, although far less pronounced than theirs. Her face was fair, more fair than any face that Ashild had ever looked upon before. She adorned herself in a white and black bodysuit cloak, almost phantom like in appearance.

"Aye, you did not call for us. But the Asa gods sent their request independently of what you desire, Eilbert."

"They like to pronounce it as Aesir, Deorwin." Another one of the trio added.

"That they do, I've never been quite a fan of our linguistic-"

Puka glared at the three newcomers angrily. "Army or none you are no match for the might of a sorcerer of my caliber!"

They thrust their hands outwards, creating a shared illusion so terrible that pain coursed through the minds of all but the axeless man. However, in their exertion of such power, the chains around them glowed and tightened until they were forced to stop in their wicked castings. Puka groaned in pain and howled loudly until they were forced to cease. In the midst of this painful task, the burly blonde man had went to reclaim his axe, stripping it from the elf and hurling it straight towards them.

However, before the final blow could be struck, the master illusionist fled once more, vanishing into a mist of foamy bubbles and leaving no trace. "It seems whatever kept that bastard in chains finally turned against him. Whoever his masters are, they like to keep a tight enough leash." said Eilbert, as he held his axe firmly, gazing deeply into its steel.

"You should consider yourself lucky that Puka was bound. I knew them since I was a child, if they were not cursed into bondage they could have easily killed us...if they even desired such things." Aelfflaed replied, although her addition did not seem to sway much of the popular opinion on the illusionist.

"So you're trying to say the bastard has a good heart underneath all that leather and mind tricks? Are you sure it is not because you're an Alf as well?" Ceadda asked, scoffing at the notion.

"I am a Svartalf. And no. Puka may be a prankster and a trickster, but they would never go about kidnapping a random girl from Midgard like this. It's not in their prerogative to even drift out that far from Alfheim where they are most comfortable. Whomever has them in bondage must be extremely powerful to have weakened them and placed them into submission."

With the tensions rising, Deorwin grasped the shoulders of his two friends. "My comrades,  the day has been won, is that not all that matters? Let us leave the affairs of Alfs, Svartalfs, and bondage makers to our parents. We will get wrinkly and old arguing like this all the time."

The two conceded. It was hard to explain but the youthful and energetic Deorwin had an aura about him and a gravity in his voice that could send even the most tense of moments into relaxation. The group began to walk away as with a thundering crackle another multicolored vortex opened itself up, no different than the one that Eilert had emerged out from not too long ago.

The group glanced back halfway in their stride back home to see that the very girl they saved did not move a single inch. "This one is not coming?" Ceadda asked, raising a brow to his comrades.

"Listen, I'm not about to go through some strange portal with a bunch of renn faire wannabes I just met. This is my home! These are my people! I don't belong wherever the hell you're going."

"We're not going to Hel, we're going to Asgard...duh." Ceadda butted in.

The Svartalf, Aelfflaed walked up to Ashild, placing a hand upon her shoulder as she gave her a sympathetic look. "There is nothing for you here on Midgard. The moment we leave, you will be hunted like an animal. The people you love will become like sport just as you are, if only to ensure your capture. Puka is tame compared to the monsters that lurk within the Nine Worlds."

The grey skinned woman saw that the human was still very much tense and gave her a look of sympathy. "Come with me, and I will ensure that no harm will befall you. I will do all I can in my power to make you safe. For I am Aelfflaed, princess of Svartalfheim."

There was something about her voice, almost like invisible tendrils that rested upon her body and hugged her for comfort. The blonde felt a warmth brush across her body like never before, her face turning a slight red. She was about to speak before the others had decided on introducing themselves.

"And you have my word, for I am Deorwin, son of Freyja."

"And mine as well, for I am Ceadda, son of Freyr."

But when it came for Eilbert to introduce himself, he said nothing and walked towards the portal, turning his back upon the others. "Do not mind him, lady. Eilbert is miserable in everything he does. All he cares for is his silly little axe forged from his mother's hand." Ceadda teased, crossing his arms with a hearty laugh, but got no reaction from him.

Ashild hesitated to move, frozen in fear even with all these reassurances. But...if staying here was going to put her aunt in danger, she couldn't do so in good conscience. Besides, these people had just saved her life, she felt the need to give them the benefit of the doubt. One by one they walked towards the multicolored portal in single file, one after another. And as Ashild stepped through the rift in space-time, she found herself beyond the reaches and comforts of Midgard.