The Haida raised an improvised camp in the forest using cloth and logs. Fortunately, no humans had been injured, and the Haida gods had only suffered minor wounds. The Norse gods, along with Ana, Menrva, and Epona, slept deeply.
As night fell, Loki remained outside the camp, keeping watch over where his companions lay. Freyja, Freyr, and Tyr were the first to awaken. At first, they felt relief upon seeing Odin sleeping beside them; however, they quickly realized the truth—Thor was not there.
“Don’t rightly know what happened,” Loki said as Freyja stepped out to ask him about Odin’s son. “By the time I got there, both Anat and Thor were already gone.”
Freyja immediately thought the worst and ran back into the camp.
“Brother… do you still have the communication sphere?” the blonde goddess asked.
“Of course, dear sister ♬,” Freyr replied, summoning it into his right hand.
Freyja approached the sphere and spoke into it.
“Heimdall? Heimdall, can you hear me?”
“I am Heimdall. How may I assist you, Freyja?” the pale god responded, his face appearing within the sphere.
“Did… Thor use the portable Bifrost bridge you gave him? Is he in Asgard?” she asked.
Heimdall remained silent for a few seconds. Then, without changing his expression, he delivered the answer they all feared.
“Thor died sealing Anat within Jotunheim.”
Freyja felt her legs give way. Freyr clutched his head tightly, while Tyr closed his eyes and turned away.
“I feared as much,” Freyja said, her eyes trembling on the verge of tears—yet she restrained herself. She was a warrior goddess; the deaths of comrades were always a possibility.
“I always thought Thor would die fighting the serpent Jörmungandr… but he fell to something far worse,” Tyr said bitterly.
“Heimdall,” Freyja continued, steadying herself, “Father Odin is safe, though still unconscious. Once he recovers, we will send him back to Asgard as soon as possible.”
“Understood. And… I regret the news,” Heimdall replied, his tone unchanged. The transmission ended.
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“We saved Father… but we lost Thor,” Freyja said quietly. “How cruel fate can be.”
“I will inform Loki ♬,” Freyr offered.
Freyja stopped him.
“No. I will tell him. He trusts me more.”
Freyr nodded.
Freyja stepped outside and saw Loki gazing at the stars, seated before the tent where the goddesses of Orniskem rested.
“Well now… I figured y’all wouldn’t make it through the night,” Loki said sarcastically.
“We’re too strong to die… well… not quite yet,” Freyja replied, attempting humor—but it quickly faded.
“That Lel bitch really kicked our asses,” Loki said with a melancholic laugh.
Freyja took a breath.
“I spoke with Heimdall. It seems Thor took Anat to your old prison… and sealed her there.”
“Ah… that explains it,” Loki said. “That’s why I couldn’t find him anywhere.”
He turned to meet Freyja’s amber eyes.
“And Thor… he’s alright?”
Freyja hesitated.
“…Yes. He is.”
Loki remembered watching Thor’s hand turn to ash.
He understood.
“Trying to deceive me… the god of lies?” he thought.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Loki said calmly, turning his gaze back to the stars.
Freyja felt a pang of guilt—but believed it was the best course, for now.
Meanwhile, Ana awoke in the other tent. She turned—and saw Epona beside her.
At first, she thought the goddess was still dead.
But when she leaned closer, she heard her breathing.
“Am I still dreaming…?” Ana whispered, placing a hand on her friend’s forehead. It was warm.
Emotion overwhelmed her. She wanted to scream, to embrace her—but she could not risk waking her.
“Was it a miracle…? Did Odin bring her back?” she wondered.
Epona remained asleep.
Then, within her mind—a voice began to echo.
It could not be understood.
It was not human. Not animal.
It was like a meaningless mantra, repeating endlessly.
Epona jolted awake.
And to her horror, the voice did not stop.
It grew louder.
“Epona!” Ana shouted, overjoyed.
But her joy vanished when she saw the terror on her face.
“It’s coming for me! That thing—it’s coming!” Epona screamed, trying to flee.
Ana embraced her tightly.
“Calm down—it was just a nightmare!”
But Epona’s screams grew louder and more desperate. Menrva awoke, and Loki and Freyja rushed into the tent.
Epona did not respond.
She continued screaming in terror as Ana tried to soothe her.
“Epona… we’re here… you’re safe,” Ana whispered.
“Please! Make it stop!” Epona cried, her eyes filled with panic.
Only she could hear the voice.
Her body trembled violently. She began clawing at her arms, drawing blood.
Ana remembered their first meeting.
“I have never… ever seen her like this,” she thought, watching her friend break down.
Then she realized, Epona had wet herself in fear.
Loki raised his mistletoe staff and spoke:
“Draumaland (Dreamland).”
Slowly, Epona began to calm.
Her breathing steadied.
She fell asleep once more.
Ana lifted her slightly to keep her from lying in the damp sheets and thanked Loki.
“What happened?” Menrva asked, still shaken.
“The girl returned to life… somehow. I healed her with ambrosia,” Loki explained. “But something… happened to her mind while she was dead.”
Freyja stepped forward.
“I believe… you should speak with Father Odin about this,” she said, her expression worn and pale.