Another short story drabble I wrote in a frenzy some time back in my notes app but only finished tonight when I remembered it existed and thought why not post it lol

This takes place before the events of main storyline CLC and are referenced alot throughout in various ways by characters, actions, and all that fun stuff

So context:
This takes place moments before an historic moment known as "The Wild Hunt" where the Head of the Guðdómleg Fjölskylda (The Divine Family, which you can see a bit about in my Guide to The Divine Pantheon) makes the heart breaking decision to let the "Big Three" gods (Fenris, Hel and Jörmungandr) entirely loose on the mortal populations in a last ditch effort to save what could be in a losing battle. This essentially meant there would be no survivors in the end except those who knew ahead of time and could evacuate to safety off world.
It was let everyone die and there be nothing left to save, or sacrifice her own people in the hope of one day being able to restore her home. Either way it meant the death of her people but at least this way there was hope for a future...Even at the cost of her own wellbeing.


"⬇ Same text as found in PDF ⬇ 💜" (I do highly recommend checking out the PDF tho, the font just adds character)

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She looked over the side of the balcony, just as her father before and father before him. But this time...this time would be different. Just as many things with her reign.

For this time...she'd be the last.

Her eyes trailing to the heavens for forgiveness as her hand gripped at her still healing shoulder where her right arm once was.
She remembers how they'd tried to save it but she told them to remove it out of the fear the necrotic venom would spread. Her people had already lost their leader, her father, they couldn't lose the next in line so soon.

She didn’t want this. She never wanted this even if the history books will say otherwise.

Her siblings agreed there were no more options but at the end, this was her call as the head of the family. She appreciated them giving her space. She knew this decision was going to haunt her until the end of days but...she'd do so with dignity.

Their family had not invoked this rite in generations and never to this extent.

The knock at the door was the final toll. Her grabbing her father's armor, a death sentence to those no one will save.
There will be no one there to remember their faces, no one to bury them, no one to be at their graves. She just wished their deaths were quick and merciful, even if it was a fool’s hope.

The gods are waiting for the blow of her horn, the raising of glowing emblems marking the end. The blow of embers in the wind, a storm brewing in their hearts.

May Fate shine upon thee, and the Void be merciful.

The door has been opened and it cannot be shut, the gods are ready and so was she.

The Wild Hunt had begun…