He needed to go down to the hall to get food. Since he had scared off every maid in sight.

His stomach crumbled, the hunger wasn't helping his sour mood. His head was aching slightly and in all honesty, he didn't want to see anyone or speak to anyone.

His footfalls were heavy as he marched down the enormous halls, scowling as he noticed a few curious glances. Though his angry gaze drove them away instantly.

Heavy air of anger and frustration hung over him, nearly suffocating coldness that seemed to make everyone weary of his fury. He was like a ticking bomb, ready to go off if anyone as much as touched him.

He pushed the heavy doors open, halting and nearly tripping over his feet as the sounds of pleasure echoed in the dining hall.

He looked around, making sure he had gone into the right place. Though tables filled with food were still in place and people eating as well, a few creatures in the back seemed to be taking eating to next level. There were two women, one sitting on the others lap as she kissed her neck sensually, glancing towards Fergus with hazy eyes every once in a while. They weren't the only couple who had shamelessly started making out in the dining hall.

And he couldn't miss the enormous wings spread out and in the well lighted corner.

Augrimnír was lazily laying on soft pillows, his dark wings curling around three people as they caressed his naked torso, gifting him with butterfly kisses and leaving behind a row of bite marks. His half closed eyes landed on Fergus lazily, enjoying his startled expression that turned into a scowl right after being caught staring.

He looked away, skimming the tables for an empty place to grab a plate and some food. He wasn't going to stay for the orgy. As he approached one of the emptiest tables, the people there coiled, giving him his space that his cold expression demanded.

He piled his plate up with well-cooked ribs and some veggies that seemed edible and smelled good. Though he scrunched his nose when he caught a whiff of arousal and mead in the air.

Counless mead jugs and empty goblets littered the tables, obviously drunken people couldn't clean after themselves.

Fergus froze as someones tender hand landed on his biceps, cold fingers sliding down towards his wrist.

"My Lord." she whispered breathlessly, inching closer as her front touched his back. He craned his neck, looking over his shoulder at the creature inviding his personal space.

Her skin was white as snow, as were her pupils. The area that usually had the whites of eyes was pitch black. Her hair was purple as it cascaded down her back, two elegant antlers adorning her head. Her nose was flat, reminding him of a cat. Though he could see sharp fangs between her pale, parted lips.

"Join us, m'lord." she tried again, raising her chin to try and rest it on top of his shoulder. Augrimnír was looking at the exchange curiously, enjoying his uncomfortable position.

"hands off." he growled at the woman, and as soon as the words left his mouth, her hands disappeared and she nodded respectfully, lowering her head slightly in show of respect. He was pleasantly surprised at her quick answer, though he nearly sneezed as he detected more arousal.

He needed to get out of this place. And fast. Without giving the alluring woman another glance, Fergus headed out of the hall, feeling a few lingering, hungry looks that follow him out.

His anger was mostly gone, though it still sizzled hotly in his mind. The weird ritual in the hall had started him completely. The fact that he felt wanted scared him, no one had ever given him a second glance and there he was, showeling marinated ribs on his plate while numerous people kept staring at him as if he was their next snack.

It made him shudder as he entered his bedroom.

He looked down and groaned as he realised he had a problem at hand. Damn him and his new abilities to pick up scents to well.

****

He felt tired the next morning, stepping out into the crispy morning air hadn't really woken him up.

Though a hard hit aimed for the back of his knee did pull him out of the tired state. He pushed himself up, gripping the wooden weapon as he glared towards Birger who looked thoroughly displeased at his weak display of wooden-sword duel tactics.

"Stop hitting so hard." Fergus hissed through gritted teeth, wishing he could have a cup of black coffee or a Red Bull. He wished he would wake up from coma already. He was still trying to figure out if talking cows were real or was he really in a mental asylum.

"Then stop being so slow." he said with the baritone voice of his, sounding bored. He knew exactly how it ticked Fergus off.

The two sparred for a good couple of hours. Though there was always something that kept bothering Fergus. They were usually left to their own devices, though now it wasn't the case. There was a metallic scent in the air, combined with smoke, adrenaline, iron and excitement. He couldn't deny his curiosity, though the distraction earned him a good few bruises more than necessary. 

"What's going on?" Fergus asked once he was forced to stand up again after falling out of the training ring. His training clothes were ruined, all the while Birger barely had any tears in his. 

"When in fight, do not let yourself be distracted of those around you." The minotaur said with that baritone voice of his before the wooden sword came back down on Fergus. He blocked it, ignoring the sweat that ran from his hairline down the side of his face and over his eyes. He had never been one to work out much, but that anger that had recently formed inside of him was begging to be released. And for now, the training would suffice. 

There was an earl spitting sound of a low horn being blown somewhere near the front gates. It vibrated through the ground and the air and there was a feeling of ancient anticipation of something cruel, something dark. 

"What's going on?" Fergus asked again, staring towards the gates wishing he could see something at least. He could hear the commotion, the sound of footfalls, loud whispers of sea of people, the sound of metal clanking together, hooves digging in the dirt and snorts of anxious beasts. 

Fergus staggered slightly as Birger thrusted his sword into his chest, his dark eyes having a far-away look in them. As Fergus grabbed his fake sword, the minotaur stepped out of the ring, grabbing his weaponry and tying the belt around his hips. 

"I know not when I'll be back, but I do have a replacement so there is no chance for you to sleep in the late hours of the morning. You will be expected to show up like always. Until my return, good luck and no idling, my Lord." Birger said with all seriousness before making his way towards the front yard, Fergus following close behind, tossing the two wooden swords under the dead tree that sat near the training grounds. 

"Birger!" He demanded, wishing someone would tell him something. Though the minotaur pretended not to hear as he slipped into the group of other soldiers, disappearing from Fergus' vision. 

He became to a stop near the wall, drinking in the sight before him. 

Creatures of all kind were heavily armoured, iron and leather bound over their bodies as weapons hung from their attires. Spears, swords, knives, daggers, arrows and there were guns as well. He saw big, horse like animals that seemed to be made out of darkness, some had skin ripped from their faces or necks, showing off the bones beneath. Shadows seemed to slither around their legs and on their wake, some of them whinnied and shook their heads in agitation as the smaller creatures couldn't step away from their path fast enough. He immediately knew those were Nightmares. He saw a flash of sharp teeth, which was unexpected since from the most part, they looked like horses. 

The ground shook beneath their feet, air crackling as the flood of warriors kept leaving the courtyard. A couple of flying creature screeched above them, before disappearing behind the masses of dark clouds. 

Fergus had no idea what was happening or where were they going. A jolt of fear ran down his spine as he thought about Earth, but perhaps they were heading to a nearby country? Or another planet? 

"Cool, right?" He jumped, looking down as he noticed Stiorra staring at the leaving mass of people. Her hair was a mess, face covered with ash as she stood next to him, swaying on the balls of her feet as if she yearned to go with them. He tore his eyes from her, and with bitterness he asked. 

"Where are they going?" He could feel her gaze, before she answered. 

"It's the First Wave, they'll be back in no time. They are just a warning, or sending out a message if you will. They'll just make some chaos, really, that's all. Your beloved teacher will be back in no time to kick your ass again." He growled at the disrespect, glaring down at the Mare. 

They watched as the last draugar left the grouds. Garmr sat back down near the front gates, watching the group of three hundred soldiers go. Garmr was the faithful guardian of Helheim, being the size of a pony with crushing jaws and burning eyes. For a mortal man he would resemble a mix between a boar and a pitbull, a demonic looking creature who saw and heard everything. He never slept, never ate. He was to guard the fortress for eternity, and he would do his job until the day he was turned into ash. 

The gates closed slowly, leaving the courtyard nearly empty. 

"Stiorra? Where are they going?" He crossed his arms, looking at the girl with narrowed eyes. 

"Midgard, of course, where else? I mean, sure there is a longer plan but Midgard is the first stop." She admitted, looking startled as she noticed a sneaking shadow behind really unhappy Fergus.

"By Midgard you mean Earth, right?" he asked, needing the confirmation. He didn't speak ancient.  Stiorra nodded, taking a hesitant step back as the wolves grew nearer to them. A calmness washed over him as he felt them shuffling behind him, the presence of the Alpha next to him strong as they watched Stiorra scurry away into the castle. 

Fergus sighed and threw his head back, staring into the grey skies as he allowed the information wash over him for a mere moment.  

Earth, Hela was targeting Earth. Was his presence in Helheim a plot against his home? But was it really his home? Where was home anyways? 

He headed towards the training grounds to pick up the two wooden swords, making sure to put them back inside. Some of the pack wolves that decided to leave the safety of the woods shadowing him close behind. 

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A/n

Hey guys, leave a comment, I thrive for feedback! Hope you enjoyed it. 

Stay safe and happy holidays xx