Post by Cassiel on Feb 21, 2016 18:00:03 GMT
His name was Mimir. The Norse God of Wisdom. Zachariah was on the hunt for his head, the well of knowledge that could come from that could be what he needed to bring down both heaven and hell. The head didn't live on this plane, it was in Valhalla, where there was a plane full of warriors and valkyries just waiting to fight. Wanting to fight. This wasn't something he could do on his own, fighting a plane of blood thirsty warriors wasn't his idea of fun. He needed someone much more powerful to get and bring the head to him. An archangel would be ideal. But him and Angels weren't exactly on speaking terms.
A Knight of Hell could probably do it.
But, the demons aren't his friends either.
That just left him with one choice.
Currently, Zachariah is sitting at the edge of Lake Michigan, one of the great lakes of North America, whistling a tune. There was a god he needed to talk to. To negotiate with. Well, more like demand his services.
"Sigh. I'm bored! You told me you were going to tell me who my dad is." a boy said, who was sitting next to Zachariah, said. The boy was no older than 14 or 15. Old enough to know better, but young enough to be naïve. There was something to be said about youth. Before Zachariah could speak, the water infront of them started to churn, the skies darkened. Rain came down in buckets. But Zachariah stared ahead, there was something walking through the water… someone? As the figure approached, his skin was pale.
Hair long and unkempt.
"Why have you summoned me here, Mortal?" he growled as he stepped closer. Then pale eyes fall onto the boy. The head quickly jerks back to Zachariah who seemed to be not very phased by this.
"I am not just any mortal. I am Zachariah of Gamorah." his smiled turned wicked.
"You see. There is something you want, and there is something I need." reaching behind him, Zachariah produces a blade and quickly steps behind the boy. Pulling his head back and placing the blade against his throat. The rain seemed to come down in near curtains of water, the man roared at Zachariah.
"YOU DARE THREATEN POSEIDON?! I AM THE ONE WHO MADE THE SEAS. I AM THE -" Zachariah would inch the blade slowly against the boys throat. "Shut up. This is Taylor. He is your son. Unlike Zeus, you only have one child. Am I correct?" lifting a brow at the God. The two stare for a long moment, as if the two of them bargaining for what they want.
"I need you to go to Valhalla and retrieve Mimir's head. Or, I'll kill your only progeny." The God roared again, the waves crashing hard against the rocky beach. Poseidon glared at Zachariah. "Mark my words, Mortal. I will kill you for this." Zachariah simply rolled his eyes.
"Just go fetch me the bloody head, will you?" Said with a roll of his eyes.
Poseidon roared once more before turning and marching back into the frigid waters of Lake Michigan.
There was a battle to prepare for, after all.
One simply does not walk into Valhalla.
A Knight of Hell could probably do it.
But, the demons aren't his friends either.
That just left him with one choice.
Currently, Zachariah is sitting at the edge of Lake Michigan, one of the great lakes of North America, whistling a tune. There was a god he needed to talk to. To negotiate with. Well, more like demand his services.
"Sigh. I'm bored! You told me you were going to tell me who my dad is." a boy said, who was sitting next to Zachariah, said. The boy was no older than 14 or 15. Old enough to know better, but young enough to be naïve. There was something to be said about youth. Before Zachariah could speak, the water infront of them started to churn, the skies darkened. Rain came down in buckets. But Zachariah stared ahead, there was something walking through the water… someone? As the figure approached, his skin was pale.
Hair long and unkempt.
"Why have you summoned me here, Mortal?" he growled as he stepped closer. Then pale eyes fall onto the boy. The head quickly jerks back to Zachariah who seemed to be not very phased by this.
"I am not just any mortal. I am Zachariah of Gamorah." his smiled turned wicked.
"You see. There is something you want, and there is something I need." reaching behind him, Zachariah produces a blade and quickly steps behind the boy. Pulling his head back and placing the blade against his throat. The rain seemed to come down in near curtains of water, the man roared at Zachariah.
"YOU DARE THREATEN POSEIDON?! I AM THE ONE WHO MADE THE SEAS. I AM THE -" Zachariah would inch the blade slowly against the boys throat. "Shut up. This is Taylor. He is your son. Unlike Zeus, you only have one child. Am I correct?" lifting a brow at the God. The two stare for a long moment, as if the two of them bargaining for what they want.
"I need you to go to Valhalla and retrieve Mimir's head. Or, I'll kill your only progeny." The God roared again, the waves crashing hard against the rocky beach. Poseidon glared at Zachariah. "Mark my words, Mortal. I will kill you for this." Zachariah simply rolled his eyes.
"Just go fetch me the bloody head, will you?" Said with a roll of his eyes.
Poseidon roared once more before turning and marching back into the frigid waters of Lake Michigan.
There was a battle to prepare for, after all.
One simply does not walk into Valhalla.