The ground shook beneath her body.

All around her, the mountains trembled; rocks skittered across the dirt; trees did their best to protect the animals they housed even as their trunks threatened to fall. The very planet seemed to scream, a warning heard only by a few.

Death, death, death to all.

Sigyn awoke with a gasp, quickly sitting upright. Heart pounding, it took her a second to look around and see that her surroundings were calm. The mountains were still, as were the rocks. Branches swayed in the wind, but that was all. Flowers fell from Sigyn's hair, landing in her lap and the grass around her.

She tried to calm herself with a steadying breath. It had only been... what? A vision? She hadn't been asleep, not truly. She'd come to her favorite meadow in the hills outside the royal city to listen to the earth. It didn't usually require her to fall into a trance or dreamlike state. All Sigyn had to do most times was lie down, close her eyes, and listen.

The wind rippled through the grass. Death, she thought she could hear it whisper.

Whose death? Sigyn thought. A flash of blue-black and white on the ground next to her caught her eye. Freezing, Sigyn felt her heart begin to pound again.

A magpie lay dead beside her.

Exhaling slowly, Sigyn took a handkerchief from inside her deel and used it to pick up the poor bird. She couldn't see any wounds on it, nor was its neck broken. Almost as if its heart had simply stopped and it had fallen out of the sky. Sigyn studied the corpse in her hands and wondered.

The ground warned her before she heard the hoofbeats coming up behind her. Sigyn turned and saw a messenger fast approaching her on a horse. The rider pulled on the reins as they neared.

"My lady." He was barely older than a boy, Sigyn noted. Only the first stubble of his beard were beginning to show. "Your lord father requests your presence urgently. I'm to give you a ride back to the palace."

She did not stand up. "Your name?"

The boy blinked in surprise. Definitely young, and new to the job at that. "Er-Otgonbayar, my lady."

"You're the youngest son of your family's, then?" Sigyn looked back to the bird. If she left it where she'd found it, some animal would have a good meal. It would have been the more important thing to do.

Instead, Sigyn folded the bird in her handkerchief and set it in her pocket. She would bury it later.

"Y-yes, my lady. I, um, I don't mean to rush, but your lord father..."

Smiling slightly, Sigyn stood and faced the rider. "My father knows this may take a moment. Did he give you a word to give to me, by chance?"

A blush appeared on Otgonbayar's cheeks as realization dawned. "Oh! Uh, crocus? My lady?"

Her smile widened and she held out her hand to Otgonbayar. "Pull me up, please. My apologies if I get grass and dirt on your clothes."

Confused but already too well trained to ignore her in favor of it, Otgonbayar helped Sigyn into the saddle behind him. She held on to his sides lightly as they rode from the hills back into the city. How strange, Sigyn thought, that I went into the meadows to get away from the panic and only found more.

The message had come two days before, an emergency signal from Asgard that had been cut short. Hogun, the current leader and representative of Vanaheim, had sent it, but with no instructions other than a plea for aid. The council he had left to act in his absence had been reluctant to send their retired army to Asgard with no knowledge of what awaited them.

Sigyn had sat back and listened as the Vanir council had argued amongst themselves about what it could mean. Her siblings and father sat with her, unable to do much. They had no power on Vanaheim anymore, not since the War, but the council had felt it urgent enough to include them in their arguments.

After the sixth or so hour of listening to them fight, Sigyn had excused herself. The council did not notice her leaving. As the youngest daughter, she held the least amount of importance, and she was thankful for that as she'd escaped to the outside. There was a fleeting chance that the ground might provide her with some kind of clue. At least, that was what she'd told herself to justify her escape.

Sigyn thought again of the dead magpie. She would have considered it an omen, were the person it warned her of not already died years before.

Otgonbayar brought his horse to the doors of the old palace. She politely waved away his offer to help her down and did so by herself, giving her deel only a brief straightening before walking through the doors. Everyone was used to the messy, almost shabby, way she kept herself. Indeed, none of the servants batted an eye anymore. They merely bowed and murmured greetings before going about their day.

Minutes later, she was back in the council room. The floor was smooth and cool beneath her callused bare feet. Already she missed the sun-warmed ground. The council members were gone, and only her father and her siblings remained, which was unusual.

"Papa?"

Njord looked up. His expression was grim, as it had been for the last two days. "Sigyn," he said. "After you left, the council decided to send out scouting ships to Asgard. They've just returned."

She glanced over at her brother and sister. Freyja was stiff, as if she wanted nothing more than to get up and fight. She hadn't been a Valkyrie in many centuries, but her sister had not lost the intensity that role had instilled in her. Freyr, meanwhile, had a hand covering his eyes. His shoulders were slumped. Whatever the ships had found at Asgard, it hadn't been good.

"Asgard is gone," Njord said softly. "We know not how it happened, but the scouts only found rubble."

Sigyn didn't immediately react. The news was so momentous that she couldn't - how could she? What was the correct way to respond to the fact that an entire Realm had been destroyed? A Realm that she had silently hated for centuries, that had conquered and ruled them for so long?

All she could manage in the end was a quiet, "Oh."

"As far as we're aware, the Allfather is dead," Njord continued. He spread his hands helplessly. "All the Aesir that lived there are dead."

Sigyn came to stand behind a chair, setting her hands on the back of it, though she didn't know if she was trying to steady herself or merely wanted something to hold. Was it possible for nearly an entire race to die so quickly? Maybe for others, but not the Aesir. Not the warmongering, golden Aesir. They killed other races; they did not die themselves.

"I see," she said. "Do we know how?"

Freyja spoke then. "No. But if it was something that destroyed Asgard, it's gone, and it is not near Vanaheim." She shrugged a shoulder, the long trails of beads on her headdress clinking together. "That's the important part."

"The important part is that people have died," Freyr said, raising his face from his hand to stare hard at his twin sister. "Including Hogun."

Freyja was a study in apathy as she examined her golden painted nails. "And? All we can do for them now is hold a ceremonial funeral and honor their lives. Find the scattered Aesir on our land and give them our condolences and whatever else the last remaining members of a people require."

"You do not do yourself any credit, sister," Freyr said, his voice hard. "Have some compassion."

"I do," Freyja said. "But if you expect me to cry golden tears for those people, especially a traitor like Hogun, then you'll be disappointed."

"Stop," Njord ordered before the twins could continue their argument. They both fell silent, though Freyja began to tap her nails on the table in irritation, the only sign that she was bothered by Freyr's words. "We all have our conflicted feelings on Asgard and its people," Njord said. "But Freyja is right. There's nothing we can truly do except honor the memory of their lives. Asgard is already gone. The council will replace Hogun in time. We will continue on."

There was a beat of silence before Freyja said, "You could become King again."

Sigyn held back her wince. She had been waiting for Freyja to bring the idea up.

Njord frowned. "I don't think so," he said. "The council wouldn't allow it, and even if Asgard is no longer with us, there are laws in place now."

"Laws? Ink on paper," Freyja said dismissively. "Laws are created by us. We can erase them just as easily."

Freyr shifted in his seat. "I think she's right, father," he said. "The Allfather is dead."

"But his son may yet still live," Njord said, shaking his head. "We don't know that Thor was on Asgard when it was destroyed. The last we heard of him, he was roaming the Nine."

"What of him? He cannot be an Allfather with no one and no Realm to rule over."

"The Aesir we have here will become our citizens," Freyr said. "With Asgard gone, what happened years ago will happen again. Marauders will be running through the Realms, wreaking havoc. The Realms will need a leader to step into the Allfather's place and keep the peace. You cannot stand by and let people flounder in this new order. There needs to be someone to guide things."

Njord did not immediately answer. His gaze was trained on Sigyn, who had been thinking of the dead magpie with growing confusion when she'd heard the mention of marauders. She gripped the back of the chair hard, her knuckles turning white, and she felt a violent shudder go through her.

Forcing herself to breathe, Sigyn shook off her brief panic. "Freyr is right, Papa. Things will be uncertain and dangerous for a while when news of Asgard has spread throughout the Nine-or... the Eight?" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that we have a plan going forward. I don't know if you should be King again or not, but you do need to be a leader. We can decide the specifics later when the initial panic is over-and there will be panic."

Njord sighed. "And if Prince Thor decides to become King? He could find us in violation of the treaty. It could lead to another war."

"If he would risk a war while his people suffer, then he's not fit to be King of anything," Freyja said.

"Father does have a point," Freyr said drily. "Thor isn't known for making good choices. They say he's learned his lesson since Jotunheim, but who can be sure?"

"He'll have no army," Sigyn added quietly. "Even with our own military diminished and unused, we could fight back easily. If it came to that." She hoped it wouldn't. Hadn't there been enough death already? Freyr was right, though; Thor was not known for being diplomatic or calmly thinking things through. That had been the purview of another in the Allfather's family.

Njord was silent as he considered all his children's opinions. Sigyn wondered, briefly, if he even wanted to be king again. Did she want him to be king again? It had been such a long time since any of them were in power. Freyja had long since yearned to have their father on the throne again, whereas Freyr was more ambivalent towards the idea.

Sigyn didn't quite know how she felt about it. Njord had never spoken about it with any of them. The council would hate the idea-it would be a direct threat to their own standing-and the people of Vanaheim might not accept it either. Everyone had grown used to being under Asgard's rule, even if the acceptance had been grudging at best.

Sigyn hesitated before saying, "Papa, there's something else. When I was out in the meadow, I heard the land-"

Distant screams broke through the relative quiet of the council room. Beside her, Freyja tensed, her hand going to where she'd once kept her golden sword. Freyr stood and approached the door to the room, his footsteps quiet, body ready for some kind of attack. The screams grew closer until they were coming from inside the palace.

"What-"

The door slammed open and Otgonbayar nearly slid on the floor and fell. He caught himself on the edge of the door. His face was panicked, his breath more like a wheeze. "My lord! There's-people are-something's happening-"

"Oh, spit it out, child," Freyja snapped. "Are we being attacked?"

"N-no, my lady, I'm sorry, but-" He stopped and, if it were possible, his face became paler. His gaze was fixed behind them.

Sigyn spun around to follow it and did not know how to process what she was seeing. Njord stumbled against the table, his legs having turned to dust, and the rest of his body was following.

He didn't look as if he were in pain. Somehow, that was worse than if he'd been screaming in agony.

"Papa?" Sigyn whispered, reaching out to him.

He managed to give her a small, shaky smile, before the last of him turned to dust and fell away. Her hand met empty air.

"Freyr!"

Freyja ran towards her twin, trying to catch him as he fell, but his body dispersed into the same dust and fell around her. "No," she gasped, looking at the place he'd been standing, then turning around quickly to look at Sigyn. Her brown eyes were wide. "Sigyn, are you-" She took a step forward, then stopped, letting out a small gasp. Freyja held her hand up and stared as it began to wither.

To her eternal shame, Sigyn found she couldn't move. All she could do was stare in utter, uncomprehending horror.

Her sister took a small breath, eerily calm. "Be brave, Sigyn," she said, her voice breaking. "Endure. I know you can."

And then she was gone.

Nothing remained of any of them. Not even their clothes.

The screams had stopped. Or maybe she simply couldn't hear them anymore. Perhaps this was all a nightmare-maybe she was still out in the meadow, listening to the land scream, and it had become this horrific dream. Maybe she was about to turn to dust, too. Sigyn hoped she would. She hoped to fade away and wake up and find herself in Folkvanger, her family waiting for her, the troubles of the Nine far behind them.

Maybe this was Ragnarok.

She stood there for what seemed like an eternity. She did not turn to dust. Nor did she wake up. Her family remained gone-dead.

Numbly, Sigyn fell to her knees and screamed.