When was the last time that so many of them were gathered in this place? Freyr looks around and sees among the crowd the face of his father Njord. He beholds through the tears the lovely countenance of his sister Freyja, her golden hair twining about her white shoulders, her blue eyes shining with challenging fire. It is like looking into a magical mirror. The same and yet different. Forever lovers and forever apart. Their people, the Vanir, had once made war against the Aesir, to join them in the end. Gaining so much... sacrificing so much.

And today we will all fall together, Freyr muses. If only it were worth something. If only the earth could be reborn from this catastrophe, green and blue once again, as it was when he and his sister had walked her paths without a care.

I am ready to die the death of a god for this, he thinks, if it is my doom.