Claimed by Death

The party moved off to the north leaving the scene of their battle behind. The air shimmered above the freshly churned snow, coalescing into a point of dark energy that suddenly expanded Into the form of Harlequin.

His patchwork clothes and skin were black and silver now, his eyes pitch black to match his mood. The witch was not part of his plan, she spoke of prophecy and he hated nothing more than knowing that the strings of fate were not firmly in his grasp. He would have to deal with her... but first he had a prize to claim.

Walking over to a mound in the snow he reached out his hand and concentrated. The mound began to shift, the snow falling away to reveal the still form of Sigrid, Sister of the Old. She had shown herself to have true power in the recent battle. Rough and unrefined but he could work with that. Gently he sought to bring her back from the brink of death, tugging at her spirit and feeding life energy back into her body.

He gasped as something cold and powerful struck back, fending off his magic. He stared open eyed with horror as dark magic seeped from the woman's eyes and mouth, wrapping around her head and then her body until she was shrouded in a snaking blanket of shadow.

"Thissss one isss mine!" A voice sounded in his head and he stepped back as if struck.

"Show yourself." Harlequin demanded but the only answer was distant laughter. The shadows around Sigrid began to drift away revealing that the woman was no longer there, she had been taken from him.

Harlequin stood there for a moment fuming with anger. The colours of his clothes and skin shifting to a burning red. At last he he turned and vanished with a snarl of rage.

***

Sigrid awoke on a cold marble floor. She was shivering uncontrollably and struggling to breath. High above the sky was inky dark with churning storm clouds. She struggled to her feet and found herself standing on the broad steps of an ancient temple.

"Where am I?" She wondered out loud and to her surprise an answer came.

"You are where all must come in time." The voice spoke directly to her mind.

"Who are you?" Sigrid asked. She looked back away from the temple and stumbled back in horror. The landscape was a barren wasteland, and as far as the eye could see the dead were walking. Broken bodies shambling to and fro in endless torment. She bit back a scream as she turned back towards the temple.

"Do not fear my children." Came the voice again, "Do not fear me..."

"Who are you?" She asked again already knowing the answer.

"I am Hel." Came the reply, "Enter and serve."

Sigrid looked up towards the temple, "and if I do not?"

Her question was met with quiet laughter, "Then you are free to leave, my children will be pleased to greet you." She glanced back towards the field of the dead and shivered. It seemed she had a new patron.