[b]Throne World[/b]

Gaul slowly sidesteps the glaive as it crashes to the floor, then launches himself at Valkyrie, a quick flurry of fists crashing on her head. He lands behind her in a crouch, and draws his hand axe and Mjolnir as he begins to circle his opponent, staying low to the ground. 

“Butcher? Can you even hit me, princess?” Gaul asks with a mocking smile.

[b]Helheim, Realm of the Dead[/b]

“And so it is done,” Hel breathes shakily as she collapses onto the bed of furs beside Baldur. “Your ex-wife shall be free,” she slowly traces a circle on his chest with a long, spindly finger. 

Baldur turns to look at his new bride. This was not the death he had envisioned for himself by any means, yet it was the death he had. “I have but one final favor to ask of you, my wife.” The word almost chokes him. 

“Fire away, beloved.” Hel replies, seeming to not have noticed his hesitation.

“I wish to forget about her, and her to forget me. Send her far away, that she may live out her days in blissful ignorance.”

“I happen to know just the place,” she smiles. [i]A perfect little hideaway where she won’t possibly escape.[/i] Hel curls her finger under Baldur’s chin and pulls him close. 

[b]Blackout[/b]

A beautiful young woman with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes slowly comes to beneath the shade of a massive apple tree. She slowly gets to her bare feet and takes a few halting steps. She glances down at her threadbare dress, almost devoid of color, and a seax in a scabbard belted around her waist.

[i]Where am I, and why am I here?[/i] she thinks, and gets only a growling stomach in response. Hunger. That much she knows. She instinctively reaches up toward the fruit above her, and the tree seems to bow slightly to her whim. As the apple is plucked, the boughs swing back to their rightful place in the sky. 

The mysterious woman begins to walk toward the shape of a building in the distance, ponderously munching upon the apple. Perhaps someone there will know something.