Prologue
"I beg of you to reconsider,” Sif beseeched. “Think of the repercussions—of our family! Have you no remorse towards what you have so assiduously accomplished?” She sought her sister’s hand through the small distance that separated them, desperate to convince her sister to see reason.
Sif’s sister held her shoulders high despite the burden that lay upon them and shied away from the gesture, unwilling to let the warrior interfere with her plan. A grim smile sauntered across her face, crinkling her eyes; hiding the shimmering green that shone so boldly in her declaration. Her crimson hair fell in intricate waves to her shoulders. She was elegant, severe—words befit only of the warrior’s youngest sister.
“Remorse has never been in my nature.” She remained serene, willing the insistent waves of rage to succumb to the cooing of rationality. The last thing she needed was a brawl with the fiercest warrior of Asgard.
“You are to be married!” Sif cried, exasperated. “What shall the Allfather say of your treason? What of Fandral—your friends? Sister, please!”
“I never loved Fandral!” The woman hissed. “That was your doing, not mine. I grow tired of living a lie!”
“How quaint coming from the woman who wishes to bed the God of lies himself! Loki does not want you, Rayna! When will you come to terms with his declination? How much longer must you cling to such forbidden sentiments? He will never love you, Rayna; mark my words. Never.”
“Do not speak of which you do not know!” Rayna yelled, her daunting voice bombarding the ornate chambers. “The beckons of my heart are heeded no longer,” Her voice lilted, a whisper of barely capsulated rage. “I leave on my own accord, not Loki’s.”
“He is the source of this rebellion, I know. You would be a fool to pretend otherwise.” Sif threaded truth through the passion that lulled in her eyes, in the rigidness of her posture. “Reconsider. Marry a respectable warrior, a man who shall warm your chambers and bore more protectors of Asgard; maidens to forge the new generation. You will grow to adore him as he does you.”
“No, my sentiments are meant for no man.” Rayna declared, freeing the sword at her waist. “I live only for myself now. You, of all people should understand.” She slithered her forefinger across the tip of the blade, running over the emeralds that had been forged within the steel. “I shall pay the price of my freedom, fret not.”
“Rayna, what nonsense are you speaking?” Sif demanded, seeking to reach her sister once more. So this was a game, was it? Rayna—all talk, no action. It was merely as though they were children once more! “Let us prepare for your wedding tomorrow.”
Rayna greeted her with a wistful grin, angling her sword towards her heart. With a wilted sigh, she struck the blade past her sternum, engorging the blade within her bodice, crimson eking from the afflicted site, her eyes suspended from their sockets.
“RAYNA!” Sif shrilled perilously, lurching forward to catch her beloved before she fell forth. Her hands grasped air as her sister flickered from sight.
***
The whole of Asgard gaped upon the news of Rayna’s farewell. Sif skirted about the semantics of her disappearance, sparing the details of her presumed departure to Vahalla. Fandral shrilled before the court, bestowed in his finest armor, amid his loyal warriors. Odin and Thor demanded she be found. Frigga stilled their temper, calling upon the wedding guests to proceed to the awaiting banquet.
Sif leaned hopelessly against the balcony of the dining hall, overlooking Frigga’s prized gardens. So alive, so vibrant. A crimson flower stood out amongst the rows of shrubberies, nearly as vibrant as Rayna’s locks. She could imagine the velvet of such strands beneath her fingers as she woven them into a braid; wild, free. How she cherished such memories.
“You lied.” A velvety voice shattered her grievous sentiments.
Sif swiveled on her heels, drawing her beloved blade from her belt. “You know nothing.”
“You forget I am the God of Lies,” The voice muses, it’s owner sauntering forth to greet the tip of Sif’s offending weapon. “Tell me where she is.”
“Even if I knew I would not tell you!” She roared from between clenched teeth. “I do not see why you are so inclined to know her whereabouts, you never cared for her!”
“She is my dearest friend!” Loki bellowed, sweeping a hand behind him to ease closed the balcony doors before one of the banquet members could disturb their quarrel. “Now, I demand that you tell me where she is.”
“I speak truthfully when I say that I know not where she has vanquished.” Sif clenched her fist around her weapon, tilting it downwards and compelling herself not to impale the God before her. “S-She refused to marry Fandral and disappeared—I tried to convince her to see reason but she refused.”
“Why would she do something so foolish?” Loki raged in disbelief, his emerald eyes shimmering in light of her confession. His hands struck the air in front of him, as if chastising Rayna herself. “She knew her destiny before it bgean—she knew her duties!”
“Yes, well, she decided to make her own destiny, as usual.” Sif provided, her voice stiff and lifeless. Loki bobbed his head in eerie agreement, picturing Rayna’s erratic gesticulations and relentless determination. She had always been born to burn; to challenge the wind.
“When is she to return?” Loki mumbled, daring to glimpse Sif’s hazel eyes. The warrior merely shook her head, her eyes floating back to Frigga’s gardens, solemn. “Sif?”
“She is not to return.”
“Why in Hel not?” Loki demanded, arrogant as ever.
“She sacrificed herself for freedom.” She omitted, her throat leaden with grief. “She is gone.”
“I grow weary of this ambiguity—speak up and tell me where she is so I may find her and deter her from whatever path she has decided to follow.”
“Loki—she is dead! Deceased! She flows within the vessels of Vahalla now!” Sif stormed before him, shoving a finger in his aristocratic face. “She sacrificed herself with the sword you so generously gifted her! She took her life in the name of her love for you! She is gone!”
Loki stumbled backwards, thudding against a golden column. Sif observed him through her tears, letting them fall freely down her cheeks. His green eyes sought the afternoon sky frantically, as if summoning Rayna to his side; to show herself and forget this insanity. His heart slowed in his chest, each breath reflecting his agonizing guilt and astonishment. “Love?” He echoed. “Love for me?”
Sif boomed a laugh across the balcony, the sound thundering against the wind. “There could be no other.” Sif made to exit the balcony, sheathing her sword. “It was always you.”