Free Throne of Scars by Alaric Longward

mean?”
    “Aldheim and Svartalfheim are sister worlds. The Above is the jewel of the gods, and Below, is the rich belly of the world.”
    I pointed a finger beneath us. “Is it in Aldheim ?”
    She shrugged. “I do not know, in truth. Some say no, others say yes, but the gate is there and there is supposedly no way out but the gates. Nött would know. She was the goddess of thieves and unknown ways. But we cannot ask her,” she said with a small smile. She looked up at Thak. “Do you think the map is enough?”
    Thak nodded. Then he frowned. He sniffled, and looked at me.
    “What—s” I began.
    The air moved by two bookcases. Ittisana shot up, her hands glowing. A fiery stream of fire shot through the air from her hands, blinding me. It twirled and sizzled erratically and struck something.
    A spell of invisibility was broken.
    A group of elves appeared, as one of them, a pretty girl fell on her face, a hole in her chest. I cursed, grasped the Iron Trial and rolled on the floor, as two arrows sunk into the couch. Thak moved like a wraith. His sword was up, and he grew to ten foot as he charged. Three elves rushed him with swords, brave and crazy. Thak laughed spitefully, his sword hacked one elf into two halves, he parried a swift strike, and danced out of the way. He clawed an overzealous elf across his face, and then there was no face left. The last of the elves took a small opportunity and struck at Thak with a sword, opening a wound on the jotun’s knee, but his broken body hurtled down to the darkness.
    There, warning shouts could be heard. More of them , I thought. How did they get there?
    The rest of the elves rushed away. Ittisana took careful steps forward, and I followed her, pulling the saber. Thak charged after the elves, and I could hear shouts and curses in the dark. A head rolled by, a female elf flew against a window, broken, as the gigantic warrior struck around with a manic strength amidst darting elven shadows.
    I rushed to gaze down at the bottom floor.
    There, a trapdoor was opened. There was a gaping hole in the floor, an opening of a tunnel. Ittisana’s spells lit up the area, and the bottom level was teaming with warriors wearing the green tabards with rampant beast. I saw another elf fall down to them. He fell heavily at the feet of an elven female.
    And those of Anja.
    Anja was there, having opened the door with her skill. She looked up at me with shock, and took a step back.
    “To the stairway,” Ittisana said, and pulled me away as a dozen arrows flew past. A spell of ice shattered sharply at the railing, toppling a statue of a meditating elf. There were shouts and feet thumping as the elves rushed up to kill us. I gathered my energies. I knew the firewall, I knew a whip of fire, and the spell that summoned the fiery elemental.
    And I could use the fire of the Iron Trial. I could.
    But Anja was down there.
    Ittisana crouched by the stairway. Thak appeared, man-sized and gleaming with elven blood, slinking in shadows near the top of the stairway. It was shaking by the hurried steps of the upcoming elves, and we prepared.
    Ittisana turned me around. She grasped the mask from my belt. “There are too many.”
    “Anja,” I said weakly.
    She slapped the mask against my chest. “She made her choice.”
    Thak lifted his sword, and I saw he was preparing to die.
    I cursed softly and placed the mask on my face.
    The thing answered. The fire slithered in my hands, and the snake appeared from my gauntlets, surging around me, gleeful, I thought, for the butchery that was about to take place. I fought it, tried to control it. I had, in the Citadel, but now, it barely listened to me. It turned in the air before me. It turned its head to face the enemy. My ears were ringing, my face was steaming hot, and I felt the evil and savagery of the thing flit into me.
    The elven troops were on the second landing. Now I could see spears.
    Magical lights sprung to life around us. Their maa’dark were