Odin’s expression darkened slightly as he thought of the recent loss of his child and when Heimdall spoke of Sleipnir’s continued “service” the King smiled tightly. “My son will return to me soon enough. It pleases me to know that Sleipnir’s strength still bows to me. He might run, but like Thor, he too will return to me.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Have you judged the mortal's loyalty toward Loki? How long, you think, before he bows to Odin as well?"
--------------------------------
Sif’s scream was shrill and agonized, ripping through the streets causing the guards in witness to shrink back slightly in horror. Her face and head were gushing blood, Creed’s rough hand taking not only the hair at the root but also large patches of scalp flesh. The pain made an otherwise strong woman weak, her breath leaving in harsh gasps before she went limp in Creed’s hold. Surprisingly, the hair that had formerly been raven-black waves was now a blood-soaked pile of golden thread lying in a sodden heap at Creed’s feet.
“You speak of a Gold Man…yet many here wear golden armor.” A horror-stricken guard asked through gritted teeth. “We do not know whom you seek..and by the bloodshed you’ve inflicted on our people we are loathe to deliver one of our own into your hands.” He raised a halberd, and the guards around him reluctantly followed suit. “You may strike us down…it is our duty to give our lives in service to our kingdom. We fear thee not! Release the woman and fight like a man!”
Elsewhere in the city Fandral ran toward the sounds of battle, his heart pounding at the idea that such bloodshed was now in the sacred walls of Asgard. Upon hearing Sif’s scream, horror and fear streaking through him. Gods, no! He thought then gasped when a large black bird swooped in on him. He skidded to a halt, sword flashing toward the creature in alarm. “What-?” He gasped before the creature swooped toward his face, thick black claws slashing at his cheeks and lips. He cried out, slashing at the creature only to have it flutter away from him. He panted, shaken by the strange bird and the sounds of death and suffering rolling through the city like a wave.
The bird left him, flying away and Fandral sighed in relief before turning back toward the city. He could hear the fighting and was determined that he should put his blade into the fray. He only took two steps before something latched onto his shoulder, throwing him face-first onto the cobblestone road. He let out a harsh cry, taken off guard. He whipped a look over his shoulder to see what attacked him and paled slightly at sight of the large black magpie now sitting on his back. It watched him with keen, glowing green eyes and he felt the hairs on his arms rise with dread.
For a moment it just sat there, watching him with those terrifying eyes, then slowly it lowered its beak toward Fandral, wings flaring slightly. “Death!” It cawed in a harsh rasping cry that made Fandral jump slightly. “Death comes!” It cried and Fandral’s eyes widened as he stared at the creature. He had no chance to interpret the bird’s strange words nor how the creature came to speak in the first place.
It fluttered off his back and he lurched to his feet, sword swinging in an attempt to fell the creature. Although he knew not how, once more the avian evaded him. He snarled a curse and took no time to wonder how the creature could be faster than the fastest sword in all of Asgard. Instead he quickly turned and ran toward the fighting once again. He arrived beside the guards with sword drawn and paled further at sight of Sif's limp form in the arms of a naked monster of a man standing near them. "Let her go!" He bellowed, feeling the thunder of many booted feet joining them whilst civilians fled.
He was so focused upon the upcoming battle that he didn't notice the magpie continually circling overhead.