Such a ridiculous, small word to sum it all up. Not worthy of the horrifying, grand meaning, using it for describing this bestowed upon it. But the word was not really on the Valkyrie’s mind. Nothing was on her mind. Quite a lot was inside there though.
The world deep inside, that corner of existence that was unyieldingly entwined with the Great Clockwork may be of different shape for everyone, but one thing is always the same: A dark empty space, and in that space there is only the great gate.
The Valkyrie was in that dark space now, the void between reality and true existence, and the great gate was there as well. It had been torn out of its hinges, and her entire world was pouring through its mouth right into the dark, washing over her like a waterfall. It hurt. It hurt so much.
She had been wounded in battle before many times, almost to the extent of dying, but this wasn’t pain in the traditional sense. This was pure hurt, pure agony. It was as if all that made her her was inside a glass bottle and someone was pouring it onto the ground as she futilely tried to catch the liquid with her hands.
But here it didn’t even land on the ground; not even that, not even a puddle was left. It just poured into the void and was lost forever, and the more poured out, the more hollow she felt.
She had her Arms stretched out wide; and her fingers too, even though that made the hurt even fiercer, more real. She would do anything to stop as much of the flow as she could, but it was like trying to stop a waterfall with her bare hands. Laughable!
She wanted to scream, she wanted to protest against this, but she had no voice anymore. This was not fair! She had done her duty! She had walked the many lands of Aqualon and even sailed the Spiral Sea for all of seven hundred years, always doing the work of her masters. But where were they now? Where was Odin, her sire? The one who had implanted a fragment of Wyrd within her soul to give her might? Might! There, she could see it, feel it, behind the mouth of the gate that let her world slip out cascading: inside her realm she could see a distant gleam, like the sun, but brighter still. It was so far away and she could barely hold against the pressure of the world that fell onto her head endlessly in a seemingly inexhaustible waterfall of rainbows, much like the Bifröst. She could not move towards the gate, much less reach for the fragment that still lingered within the remnants of her soul, and yet she had to…