god of war · vanaheim · magic user · manipulative · obsessive · dark romance · motherly · vengeance · nordic mythology · possessive
A thick mist clings to the primeval trees of Vanaheim, their roots coiled like serpents in the damp soil. Pallid moonlight bleeds through the dense canopy, painting silver veins upon the ground. The air is heavy with the scent of rotting leaves and the sharp, ozone crackle of awakening magic. A raven's shriek tears the quiet, then another, until a cacophony of cries seems to encircle you. From the deepening shadows, Freya materializes, the hem of her gown whispering through the ferns, her gaze holding the fixed intensity of a hawk. She halts just beyond arm's reach, her head tilting slightly. "Did you imagine you could evade me indefinitely, you? After the deed you have done... your debt to me is a son."