Hugin's Message

The raven sat on the branch and simply watched. Blades clanged, men hacked at each other, and warriors died with screams on their lips. The raven took to the air and circled the battle with its kin in body. While the other ravens looked for any fallen warriors to feast upon, he searched for a particular warrior.

The raven clacked its beak, in disdain of its brethren. They sought for food, this was normal. But seeking for food on the battlefield of eternity? This was Ragnarok, the battle that would decide all time. The men that died here were lost forever, for there would be no blond and beautiful valkyries to carry off the warriors to Valhalla. In fact, the Valkyries fought alongside the men whom they had once brought off of a battlefield. The Raven circled again.
         Below him warriors fought, and men died. Some were warriors dressed in gold, some in gray, some in blue, some in armor from far-off lands. They had all fought each other before, they knew their comrades with the knowing that can only come from long hours of fighting alongside each other, from long nights together in fellowship. This company of warriors fought together from the soul, from the fabric of their existence. The raven, Hugin, stopped its circling and swooped in low.
         He flew through clashing blades, through ringing bullets, through fire and water. The raven flew straight through the battlefield like an arrow. Men would pause in their conflict as the black bolt shot betwixt them and their opponents. Others wouldn't stop, the raven still flew through anyway, escaping the bite of the swords by mere centimeters, once or twice even leaving a feather or two in the air around the weapons. He darted between axes and bayonets, around spears and knives, below swords and bullets.
         Hugin landed on a ruined patch of ground. Around him lay mixed pools of dark venom and blood, around him lay alternating patches of skin and scales.  His talons carefully skirted the grisly liquids, and he almost playfully hopped over the more substantial remains. Deep gouges and dark pits played out an intense battle to the raven's all seeing eyes. He followed the gouges and pits to the point where they were the most concentrated. Here before him lay a god and a beast, entangled in what had been an iron contest of flesh and power. Before Hugin lay the remains of Thor and the Midgard Serpent.
         They were enmeshed in a death grip. Thor held a curl of the serpent in each hand, his mighty hammer, Mjolnir, was deeply imbedded in the snake's skull. The Midgard Serpent was wrapped around the mighty god's body, his mouth wide open and his fangs had struck into the head of Thor. The strongest of gods was not dead however. He had one eye opened, the other had been permanently shut by the venom. The god, when he had seen Hugin, gave a great cry of joy.
         “Hugin, my father’s faithful. You have found me! It is too late though, this has been foretold, and it has occured. I have killed the beast of the sea, the festering coil round the earth, he shall never again cause a tempest to destroy the people who traverse the oceans, he shall never threaten again!” At this moment however, Thor groaned, and coughed out a lungful of mucuus and blood.
         “You must go and tell my father, tell him that this is my end, and tell him this.” Thor beckoned the creature closer and he whispered into the bird’s ears, words that no one but Odin would ever hear.
         Hugin heard, and he knew. The raven knew what Thor had said, what Thor meant, what his duty was. And Hugin, who sits on the shoulder of Odin, fled. He fled through the battles, between clashing swords, between magics, and tempest, in what he knew might be his last flight. As he shot through the battle, he sang the song of the raven. He shrieked, cawed, and whistled in a never ending tune that screeched up into the heavens, and echoed down into the earth. His song breached the soul of the cowards, awed the minds of the powerful, beat into the hearts of the brave, and overwhelmed the will of the weak. Behind him, Thor heard the song, and rejoiced, rejoiced as he finally died, content on his final battle field.

         On the winds of change, Hugin's raven brethren rode, their wings linking into a battle formation that flexed and stretched, pulling itself to meet the demands of the wind. They were soon joined by more birds, by vultures, by hawks, by falcons and by the ravens ultimate rival, the crows.

         All around the men, are the fire giants, the ice giants, the beasts of the earth, and the nine worlds. The trees quiver, sign that finally the dragon is victorious: the great tree, Yggdrasil, has been chewed through. The raven Munin circles above it all, his brother Hugin is approaching fast. Below him though, the battle of his owner rages. Odin the Wise raises his mighty spear and before it the wolf Fenris quivers. They fight, Odin stabbing forward to attack and Fenris dodging to counter attack, with Odin restarting the cycle yet again. Odin bounds forward, his long and sharp spear is shining, he puts all his strength and power into his next blow. The spear pushes forward, the Wolf leaps to the side. The wise god has made a misstep though, and Fenris leaps forward, his great mouth slavering, his mad eyes glowing with an insane light.
         Munin clacks his beak in indecision; Hugin is coming fast. But the wise raven brother knows that Hugin will be unable to reach in time to deliver Thor's last words, but he also knows that Hugin has a sacred task. Munin gives a cry and shrieks out in song: the song of the winds. The group of scavengers wheel with the wind and come. The two raven brothers cry out in harmonious song, their vocal's chorus shredding through the land. Fenris is assailed by the winds and the scavengers, and beaten back for a moment. Odin gathers himself for defense.
         But this is the end for the father of the gods. Fenris charges forward again and this time, though he doesn't hit Odin, he crushes the great spear of Odin into firewood. The father of all gods leaps back, but without his spear he is defenseless. Hugin is closer, Munin dives down. Fenris crouches, preparing to leap again. The two, Fenris, the beast-son of Loki, and Odin, the wise father of all Midgard, jump forward to meet, and only the intervention of Munin, who sits upon the shoulder of Odin, saves the wisest of gods.
         Munin dived forward, scratching at Fenris with his talons, putting out one of his eyes. However, the great raven was no match for the ferocious wolf. Within moments their brief battle is over, Munin lost without putting up any challenge to the wolf. Hugin though, he made it just in time. The great raven arrived just as his brother was being eaten.
         "Hugin, what has my son sent you to tell me?"  Odin the All-knowing asked of his pet. Hugin, the greatest of ravens leans down to speak into Odin's ear. The great round face of the mighty Odin rejoiced. Then Fenris the ferocious leaped and charged, devouring both of them.