NOW COMPLETED: The Last Battles of the Valkyrie

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Greetings, one and all! A few months ago, I started a fan fiction entitled The Quest for Valhalla. It was quite long, but turned out to be pretty popular. About a quarter of the way in, the plot expanded to trilogy sizes. I finished the Quest, and moved on to book two in the trilogy, the Final Battleground. However, near the end, sudden plot difficulties arose, and the connection to the trilogy was severed, much to the disappointment of those reading. The Final Battleground is no longer book two in the trilogy. However, I will be having a tie in later elsewhere.
To make up for the disappointment of the Final Battleground, I expanded the plot again. Now, instead of a trilogy, there will be five books, with the Quest as the first. This, the Last Battle of Valhalla, which was previously the third, is now the second.
Now, before my disjointed plot drives you off, let me say that the plot for this is fully developed down almost to the individual chapters, so no disappointments. Also, the book after that, although completely new, will have no problems that I can see. The one after that, I wrote before, but got stuck on. I will rewrite it as book four in this series. Book five is still in the foggy halls of the future, but is coming along. I do have the rest sorted out.
So, seeing as this is the sequel to the Quest, a brief summary of the Quest is in order. If you have already read the Quest, feel free to skip down to the last paragraph.

Spoiler Alert!

The Quest follows five heroes: Dan Beorm, a Mariedian from Isadora; Nargshir, a wolf from Feylund; Gormal Ironfist, a dwarf also from Feylund; Vervalsing, a young dragon from Icaria; and Francois, a knight from earth’s past.
Dan starts out on Isadora and rebels against his soulborg captors, using incredible weapons of his own make. He is caught, and is summoned as the bullet in the fighting pits is a centimeter away from his head. He goes to Vydar.
Vervalsing’s lands are attacked by a shadowy organization known as the Sons of Braxas. He fights, but Braxas herself appears and defeats him. He joins Einar.
Nargshir attacks some elves with others of his own kind. They win, but an elf almost stabs him, and he joins Utgar.
Gormal, after battling a ton of giants, finally gets stuck between a large rock, about two or three logs, the ground, a dead giant, and a mad giant. (You can tell he’s tough.) He joins Aquilla.
Vydar sends Dan on a quest to Athenock with a mysterious crystal, said to be capable of destroying a wellspring. Valkrill has a wellspring in Athenock. Dan is joined by Gormal, Francois, Vervalsing, and Ana Karithon, and they set out to destroy the wellspring. ON the way, Nargshir, who has been turned against Utgar, meets them, and sides with them. They reach the Underdark, go through it, and confront Valkrill. A large battle takes place, until it’s just Dan and Valkrill. Dan literally blows Valkrill away, at least most of him, but the skeleton of Valkrill keeps coming. He is unbeatable, or so it seems. Dan manages to destroy the wellspring and escape the Underdark with his friends, with all of the forces of Valkrill in hot pursuit.
Meanwhile, tired of Aquilla, Utgar ahs destroyed her and her army, leaving few survivors. At the same time, Vydar ahs utterly crushed Jandar in a surprise betrayal. They now both march on Einar, who is oblivious to what ahs happened. Valkrill, Utgar, and Vydar all reach Liesic at the same time, and Einar is crushed. (Dan literally blew Valkrill’s forces away)
Ana destroys Valkrill through the power of God, and Dan rushes into Liesic, where orc armies are cleaning up. He waits for Utgar in the wellspring chamber, takes a drink of the waters, and the battle ensues. Dan gets thrown out of Liesic, up and over the walls, and comes to hours later.
The Quest ends with Dan and Ana walking out of the wellspring chamber. It is assumed that Francois and Gormal are still alive, but not conclusive. Vervalsing got his head split open by Vydar, and Nargshir was killed by Valkrill. After eh came to, Dan sent Nargshir back to Feylund and the waters of the wellspring revived him.
Nargshir got stuck in Cyprien’s castle, and was last seen in the dungeons.
So, with all of Einar’s army wiped out, Einar himself last seen crushed on the parapets, and Utgar’s army at large, we commence the Last Battle of Valhalla.

Now, before we begin, I should tell you two things. I am a Christian and like to incorporate a Christian theme in my writing every now and then. If you don’t like this, please feel free to read something else.
So, let us begin book two in the trilogy, The Last Battle of Valhalla.

Spoiler Alert!

Book One
Part One: Dilmir
Chapter One: The Dream
A deep sleep enveloped the elf. Black space stretched before his mind, and upon the endless canvas, a dream entered.

At first, there was nothing. The fabric of the dream seemed to undulate, like a black wave, rising and falling. And then, a voice, soft but strong, came out of the black. It spoke in the ancient language of the elves, the musical sounds flowing over the elf’s mind like water over fabric, and saturating it in what it said.

“I starreas ilat, yia asil daskam,
Ine eatame aail verval steyth aail vasta.
Nime asil tilar aail yasam,
Ine ilerr asil tral datal yia.

“Yia asil tesay i ettalm rime,
Ine aas oma sta et mat aaila.
Yia asil tirr damays i namtiem af eskime
Ine da layilmae ya aal iln talaaya.”

To a human, the words would have meant nothing. Indeed, since they were in the ancient tongue, it was difficult for the elf to understand them. However, as he translated it, it ran,

“A warrior great, you shall become,
And defend your people with your power.
Many shall fear your name,
And all shall flee before you.

“You shall fight in a different land,
And serve someone who is not yours.
You shall fall beneath a mountain of ice,
And be returned to your green forests.”

It was strange, thought the elf, but then, it was only a dream. The voice died away, and the blackness continued, unbroken, until the elf’s mind turned to other dreams.

A leafy forest stretched before him, its trees bathed in sunlight. The sky was clear, and the sun bright. The creatures of the wood were happy, and the very trees themselves rejoiced in the day. A large bird swooped out of nowhere, and its black eyes blotted out the forest.
The blackness shifted, and the elf watched as a young girl drew her bow in a field of grass. She was young, not more than nine or ten, but was still able to bend the bow and fit an arrow. She loosed the shaft into a tree stump several paces away, and looked at the elf watching her, pleased with her accomplishment.
The scene shifted again, and an old and worried elf made his appearance. It was obvious that one that he very much cared about was in danger, and that he must be warned. He looked from left to right, and then moved forward, blotting out the scene as he approached.
Another shift, and the elf saw something that he did not recognize: a giant crystal palace. Creatures he had never before seen moved within it, and a strange creature with wings spoke powerful words over a pool of water. Then, a great army assembled, and prepared to besiege the palace…
The scene melted into blackness once again, and the elf heard, as if they were an echo, the words,
“Yia asil Tesay I ettalm rime,
Ine aas oma sta et mat aaila.
Ine aas oma sta et mat aaila.”
Silence came then, and the dream faded from the elf’s mind, leaving only sleep. Little did he know what was to befall him. Little did he know that the words in the dream were all true. Little did he know that he would, indeed, become a great warrior, and that his name would be feared by many. And yet he slept on, for his fate had yet to fulfill itself, and it would be a long while yet, before the elves came to know the name of Dilmir.

EDIT: I have since completed this series. The last three books got shrunk to form one, Valhalla Reborn.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Just so that people will catch it, chapter one has been posted! The Last Battle is on!

[Son of Arathorn]

YES! Looks like a great start TGRF, + rep, if it'll let me...

[Fi Skirata]

Woot! Book two has come.

[Elven Lord]

Good job TGRF! The first one was great now a sequel! I jumped a bit a ahead with mine. I don't think I'll be writing a sequel. (If I ever finish the "company".)

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Ah, the clan of watchers is ehre! Just get OB and the 15th bumper and we'll be good. Now, on to chapter two!

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Two: The Council of the Elves
“He is too powerful!” The words were spoken with the emphasis of an elf trying to convince others, and accompanied by a fist pounding down on the table. The elf who had spoken sat back down and pushed his long black hair out of his eyes. His face, naturally smooth, was now furrowed into an expression of tense anxiousness fed by anger. “He is too powerful,” he said again, though with les volume this time.
“All of our mages are powerful,” said a fair haired elf across the table. He was sitting calmly in his chair, his fingertips planted together, and serenely viewing the elf before him.
“Yes,” replied the first elf, “but Dilmir is too powerful! He could defeat an army of mages and not get a scratch!”
“He fights for us and with us,” said the second elf, as calm as if he was viewing the sun set. A silence pervaded the council chamber.
The first elf, after a moment’s consideration into the stupidity of the other’s got up and walked about the room. It was a round room, its walls and ceiling flowing naturally into its floors. Curving branches twisted upwards from the center of the floor, and twined together to support a long table. High backed chairs had also been grown out of the wood, and these surrounded the table.
The elf walked towards the edge of the room, where a window opened to the view of the forest beyond. The sun shown pleasantly down on the tops of the trees, and birds and squirrels flitted about in the light. Beneath the trees, elves walked, going about their daily duties. ‘All of this can change in an instant,’ thought the elf. ‘If the others can’t see the danger of it, they must be convinced.’ He turned abruptly to face the other members of the council.
“How many of you,” he asked, walking around the room as he did so, “can remember the Dark Days?” No reply met his question, but he expected none. “There was once an elf so powerful and so well versed in the ways of magic, that none could defeat him, not even the fire wielder Chardris. Not even Sonlen the archmage. Not even you, Alfimir.”
Here, the elf turned and looked pointedly at another elf with dark hair, who sat back in his chair, coolly surveying him with his black eyes.
The elf turned away from the powerful gaze and continued. “That elf cursed our existence for three-hundred years before he was brought down by Lord Cyprien Esenwein, the only good thing any vampire has ever done.”
A low murmur ran throughout the council. To speak thus of an elf was almost treasonous, no matter who he was. Undaunted, and determined to make the others see sense, the elf continued.
“And now, right before our very noses, another such elf has sprung up. This one is far more powerful, and could rule us easily.”
“If,” interrupted the calm elf, his fingertips still touching, “he so decided. There is no reason for him to do such a thing.”
“We cannot read his mind!” cried the exasperated elf. “Power twists any being! Sooner or later, Dilmir will realize that he could be king of the elves, and claim his position by force. He must be stopped now, before he becomes any more powerful!” The elf looked around at the faces of the council. They were old, concerned it was true, but more than anything, they showed doubt.
“Dilmir cannot be trusted,” said the elf imploringly. “He must – must – be dealt with before he becomes too powerful.” With that, he sat down, knowing that he had done his best.
The other elves made no reply, but whispered to each other. At long last, the calm elf stood, and looked at the elf opposite him in the chair. “The council is of the opinion,” he said in low tones, “that Dilmir, no matter how powerful he is or will be, is no threat. We have come to this conclusion for several reasons. First, most of the members of this council know him personally, and can guarantee that he has only the purest intentions. His gaining more power can mean only good for the rest of Feylund. Second, he has shown no desire or hint of one to rule or be in charge of anyone. He accepts orders unquestioningly and carries them out to the best of his ability. Thirdly, those that know him would trust him with any task, object, word, or anything else important, their own lives if necessary. Dilmir is powerful, it is true, but he always has, and always will, use his power only for the good of other’s, and never for their demise.”
“That is all guesswork,” said the first elf quietly, and in a dangerous tone. “Guesswork with next to nothing but the opinions of others to back it up!”
“The council ahs drawn to a close,” said the calm elf sharply. “Accept its judgment lest you be accused of the very thing that you seek to accuse Dilmir of. Be gone from our sight.”
The elf left quickly, but in a very foul mood. One by one, the other members of the council left, until only the one elf, Alfimir, was left. Then he too got up, and exited the room. He found the first elf in an alcove mulling angrily over his own thoughts, and walked up to him.
“You may not have convinced the council,” said Alfimir, “but you have convinced me of Dilmir’s power, and I agree that he must be dealt with.”
The other elf looked up at the powerful mage before him, and an evil grin began to slide onto his face. “Remember the Dark Days…” he said.
“… And the assassins,” finished Alfimir. “Dilmir may be powerful, but only if he knows where to look. I promise you, another dark elf shall never rise as long as I live.”

The tension is mounting...

[Son of Arathorn]

YES! More please!

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

An update a day. If I don't exceed that, I ought to be able to keep on top of it. I only really have a lot of time to write on the weekend, so I need to keep it at one per day.
EDIT: Oh yeah, forgot about that. Request granted! I won't be here tomorrow, so here's tomorrow's chapter. Enjoy!

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Three: Training
Dilmir turned around just in time to see the shining edge of a sword descending at his head. He brought his own sword up and heard the clang of steel on steel. He spun around in an attempt to reach his opponent, but found his sword blocked. Then, before he knew what was happening, his feet had been knocked out from under him and he lay sprawled on the grass, slightly dazed.
The face of a man, old by human standards but in the prime of life for an elf, appeared above him. “You’re doing well, Dilmir,” it said, “but you have to be quicker with you feet. Ilrin made that look easy.”
“It wasn’t all that easy,” said a girl’s voice as Dilmir got back up. “You need to not focus on your sword so much and focus on where you are. Always be moving out of the way,”
Dilmir grinned faintly. “I’m always afraid I’ll move into your sword, not out of the way,” he said. Ilrin smiled at him, and then the man spoke again.
“She’s right, Dilmir. Swordplay isn’t about power, it’s about agility. You have to be fast enough to stay out of your opponent’s way, and be ready to strike a blow at any moment. Try again.”
Dilmir sighed, but turned around and brought his sword up. Ilrin took a step backwards and did the same, and the man backed up so as to be out of the way. “Now,” he said, “when she attacks, swerve, and bring your sword around.”
Dilmir had approximately half a second to register that instruction before Ilrin jumped forwards. She was incredibly fast on her feet, and Dilmir just barely got out of the way of her sword. Unfortunately, he had no time to bring his own sword up, and soon felt the cold steel as Ilrin touched her sword lightly to his arm. They stepped apart and brought their swords up again.
“Dilmir,” said the man, motioning for Ilrin to wait, “You aren’t anticipating her moves. Think about what she’s about to do, and counter it.”
“She’s too fast,” said Dilmir between breaths.
“No one’s too fast,” said the man. “Your mind is faster than any muscle; put it to good use.”
Focusing, Dilmir nodded and brought his sword up. Ilrin gave him a second’s wait, and then leapt forward again. This time, he quickly swerved out of the way, keeping his sword below her, and then brought it up, so as to catch her as she came by. However, Ilrin ducked under the sword, and, half twisting over so that she faced Dilmir from beneath his weapon, brought her own sword up to meet with his. Then, regaining her balance on the other side of the sword, she lifted it upwards. Dilmir, however, was ready. Letting his sword fall back, he jumped backwards, putting several feet between him and Ilrin.
“That was better, Dilmir, that was better,” said the man. “You anticipated her moves. Now if you can just do that in sustained combat, you’ll be on your way to becoming an excellent swordsman.”
Finding it hard to catch his breath, Dilmir knelt down for a moment, his sword point resting on the ground. The man looked up at the sky. “I think that will be all for today,” he said. “Go home and get some rest. We’ll practice more in the morning.”
Dilmir remained kneeling for a moment longer, then got back up and sheathed his sword. Ilrin did the same.
“You really are doing better,” said Ilrin, “that’s the first time you’ve managed to escape me twice in a row.” She spoke with all seriousness, but couldn’t quite hide the smile that flitted on her face for a moment.
“Just you wait until tomorrow,” said Dilmir good-naturedly. “Then I’ll escape you three times in a row.”
They left the training field together, neither of them knowing that tomorrow would take a very long time to come, at least for Dilmir.

[Orcs Blade]

Just got back from exams, and I am already blown away by the awesome! Great job TGRF!!!

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Another chapter tomorrow afternoon! I was preoccupied as I thought with a car show and a climbing wall. That was awesome!

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Here's the next installment. Sorry about it being so late, school suddenly sprung extra assignments on me.

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Four: The Warning
A cloaked and hooded elf stood at the edge of the forest, watching the two elves depart the training fields. ‘Could that be him?’ he thought as he watched the two of them disappear behind a rise of ground. Dilmir had been but six when he had last seen him, and now he would be – how many years had it been? The elf finally decided on the age seventeen. It sounded about right. However, he had never seen the girl before. Who could she be?
Night was approaching fast, and a crescent moon appeared above the clouds to bath everything in a silvery light. The elf silently slipped out from beneath the trees of the forest and quickly made his way to the rise where the two elves had disappeared. He cautiously looked around the corner, and just had time enough to see the two elves about a hundred feet away, when he was forcefully pulled backwards.
A hand as cold as the winter night clutched his throat and held him helpless in its grasp against the mound of hard packed earth. The elf reached for his dagger, but suddenly felt his arms and legs go limp. And then a familiar voice cut through the air, quiet and venomous as a silent serpent.
“What are you doing here, Uldir?” it said icily.
“Alfimir!” gasped Uldir. “What are you doing? Let me down.”
“Not so fast,” said the same cold voice. “Answer my question first.”
“I’m visiting my nephew who I haven’t seen in eleven years,” said Uldir, struggling against the magic that rendered his limbs helpless.
There was a pause, and then Alfimir said, “…In the dead of night?”
“I’ve been traveling all day, and the sun just now went down,” said Uldir. “You have no right to hold me, and I demand that you let go, or I’ll bring you before the council.”
There was another pause. “I have all the right I need to hold you, Uldir, son of Delthemir, great grand son of Eltuthar the Black. I have my own right.”
Uldir could almost feel his pulse slow a fraction.
“I know perfectly well who you are descended from,” said Alfimir, as if reading his thoughts, “and I also know who your nephew is. Members of the council were concerned that Dilmir would follow in his great ancestor’s steps of dark magic.”
Uldir couldn’t believe his ears. “You yourself wiped out the last of the dark elves ages ago,” he said.
“But not their bloodline,” said Alfimir. “As long as you or Dilmir still exist, there is a threat to all of Feylund, and I cannot permit that threat to continue.
It struck Uldir a moment before it happened what Alfimir was about to do, but there was no way he could prevent it. Alfimir brought his fingers close to Uldir’s face, and then snapped them. Instantly, Uldir crumpled, his life snuffed out as if Alfimir had blown a candle out.
Alfimir looked past the rise of ground to see Dilmir stop on the path to talk to the girl beside him. His eyes narrowed. Dilmir was too far off to be attacked now, but he was isolated enough. The girl would be no matter of importance, and could easily be taken care of. All he had to do was get a little closer, and the bloodline of the dark elves would at last be obliterated.

Death approaches...

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Hang on, Chapter Four?!? I'm supposed to be up to seven... I see only one remedy for this...

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Five: Vampires
As they left the training grounds, Dilmir and Ilrin had no idea they were being watched. Neither could they know that who watched them was Dilmir’s uncle, Uldir. Uldir was Dilmir’s only living relative, for both his parents had been killed in battles with the vampires. His mother had been an experienced mage, and his father an expert swordsman, but they had both been killed by vampires.
Being immortal, Cyprien Esenwein had plagued the elves all over Feylund for centuries. However, recently, his escapades had decreased somewhat, and more action had been reported about his castle. He was doing something, but no one knew what.
Buried deep within him, Dilmir had an everlasting hate of the vampires who had killed his parents, and looked forward to the day when the elves would once again try to eradicate them from Feylund.
However, just now, his thoughts were far from Uldir or vampires. He and Ilrin walked past a small rise in the ground and continued on their way, oblivious to the murder that occurred behind them. If Dilmir had looked back even once, he might have seen the shadowy figure of Alfimir creeping steadily closer, keeping in the shadows, but he did not.
At that moment, he was listening contentedly to Ilrin’s chatter about how she was learning to grow trees into houses, and how she would grow hers when she was older. As he listened, Dilmir looked at the moon, not knowing that behind him Alfimir was preparing to snuff out his life in less than an instant. However, both fortune and fate were with Dilmir that night, and together, they caused Alfimir’s plans to be slightly delayed.
A black shape, miniscule in the sky, passed before the moon and melted into the blackness on the other side. Dilmir stopped short, and putting a hand on Ilrin’s shoulder, caused her to fall silent. She too looked up at the moon, and gasped at what she saw.
“By all the trees of the forest,” Dilmir muttered. And then, turning to Ilrin, he said, “get inside the city and tell the elders the vampires are attacking, and don’t come back out.”
“Of course I’ll be coming back out,” said Ilrin, although she looked terrified.
“Just tell the elders,” said Dilmir between his teeth, hoping very much that they would keep her in the city. He could see the black shapes getting closer and larger.
Alfimir too, saw the vampires, and decided to delay his assassination a few moments longer. He could not risk showing himself, and so resolved not to interfere in the battle that was sure to come. The elves could defeat a group of vampires easily. The only vampire that would prove a problem would be Cyprien Esenwein himself, and there was little chance that he would show up.
However, tonight was not the elves’ night, for Cyprien was the first vampire to land on the ground and draw his twin swords.

*Drumroll*