Tyra, Chapter Two

Sharon Best, Aurora Universe, Copyright 1995,1996,1997

(Aurora Universe materials are strictly for Mature Readers over 18 years of age!)

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The sexual acts and occasional violence described in these stories are only fantasies and would be impossible for real living people to perform! These stories are strictly for the private non-commercial enjoyment of the authors and of those who share an interest in this genre.

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This story is strictly for us 'grups', for those of us who remember the comic books and their limitations and who dare to go where the comics could not go. And for those of us who still have a fertile imagination, a love of fantasy, a sense of wonder and an appreciation for All The Myriad Ways...

And, most importantly, despite the comic book theme of these stories, they contain erotic material that makes them COMPLETELY UNSUITABLE for younger readers.

Tyra, Chapter Two

by Peloquin


The name in itself would make you shiver to the bone.

Milehigh spears of ice everywhere, white glaciers covering every strip of land, and snow, the everlasting snow.

In a cave deep beneath the ice, three colossal creatures sat around the flayed carcass of a snowdragon, gnawing at the bones.

They couldn’t be called intelligent. None of them could count beyond four, the number of fingers they had on each hand. But there was a shrewdness of sorts behind the deepset eyes, a cruel, calculating mind, that enabled them to catch and kill beasts like this snowdragon, or to do war against the Small Ones.

The biggest of them all, a massive brute with evil, red eyes, grunted sourly when the far wall of ice suddenly began glowing, a blue, cold glow, emitting no heat.


The ice-giant looked up, eyes widening slightly when he saw the face in the wall.

-You wish speak me, Loke Giant-son?

The dark figure in the wall smiled, a mirthless smile.

-Yes. I have a mission for you and your idiot clansmen.

Draug tossed aside the clawed arm he had been chewing, scratching himself on his flat head.

-You tell, we do.

The smile vanished, but the figure could barely hide the amused tone in his voice.

-You will take your clan to the rainbow bridge, where I will let you pass to the world of Small Ones. There you will do whatever you want to, and chill the world you arrive in. Oh, one more thing. Bring the frostmen as well.

The icegiant roared with fury, slamming his hands into the ground, causing the entire cave to shake.

-NO! Not frostmen-Little-Ones! They must all die!

The god on the other side of the icewall-vision held out a piece of frozen flesh, making sure the icegiant saw it.

-Yes, you will, Draug. Have you forgotten already I hold your heart? You will bring the frostmen, and they will use their magics to freeze the world. Understood?

With a growl, the icegiant nodded, calming down slightly. Then his giant intelligence made itself known, the reason he had risen to the place of clan chief.

-What about God-Small-Giants? They will kill my kin.

Loke gave him a cold stare in return.

-Please, give me a little credit, here…the Aesir and Vanir will not be a problem. I have found that they have sent one of their young to Midgrd, to go through a banishment, and the rules clearly state, that while a god of Valhall is banished to the mortal world, none of the gods may interfere. So all you have to do is capture the goddess and whatever resistance there may be, keep her alive as long as possible, and the world is yours. Once the mortals are all dead, the gods may do nothing.

He began laughing, a deep, rumbling laughter, like the roar of a volcano, betraying his origins as a true firegiant. After a while the icegiant understood the plan and joined in, his beast laughter echoing across the plains of the Jotunheim.


In the main hall of the mighty palace, billions of warriors were feasting on roast pig and countless amounts of mead. It was something to do between battles.

Someone had once said that the old vikings had been such fierce warriors because they always had a hangover in battle, and killed as many as possible to end the noise as quickly as possible. Woden certainly thought it may very well be so. They were certainly stupid enough to do so.

When he had started to make his army, millennia before, he had never thought it would be so difficult to accommodate them all. And above all, he had certainly not expected them to be so seriously braindead. True, the oriental warriors, though short and slender, were intelligent and quick, but they kept killing themselves and each other, because now when they had found none of them could die anymore, they always committed suicide for every slight they had done to their honor, or duelled each others heads off. The only sensible warriors he had were the Greek Amazons, women all, and the Celts. He certainly understood how the Celts had managed to hold back the Roman invaders for so many centuries, all by themselves.

If only his own warriors were like that. But the few vikings who had actually been warriors (he was amused by the mortal misconception of them as some sort of race of berserkers, most of them had been peaceful traders) were usually so stupid from years of eating strange mushrooms before battle, they barely had any use.

And he started thinking about the events earlier that day. He wondered who the messenger was. A being of great power, it reminded him of an angel, only infinitely more powerful. It had told him to banish the daughter of his wargod to Midgrd. It didn’t explain why, but it said that he had to do it, or all gods would be destroyed. And Woden, for the first time in his life, did not understand why.

Draug stood high above the enormous crowd of icegiants, on a rock outcropping, near the bridge of Bifrost, the rainbow bridge.

- All clan! All clan here!

The roar from the crowd caused several large pieces of rock to shake off the cliff, tumbling into the bottomless chasm below.


Draug made a grimace resembling a grin, his crooked teeth displayed widely. He gave a final contemptuous glare at the group of fifty or so humans standing below, looking up, they were seemingly made of ice and frost, like themselves, but he knew the frostmen were warmblooded, like all humans. Apparently they were shamans, although Draug didn’t understand magic, he knew how powerful it could be.

- Now we cross bridge! All cross bridge!

If anyone had gotten close enough, they would have seen the cruel pride in Draug’s eyes, as the army of his clan started walking across the bridge, fading away as they did. Thousands of lumbering beasts, all chanting their warsongs.

The icegiants were coming back to the mortal world…

The Gulf of Mexico, 03:00 hrs.

The towing vessel Eleanora was heading home from a major job in Mexico, and the entire crew was tired and cranky. Captain Nichols stood at the helm, not wanting to tire his personnel without due cause, deftly guiding the old ship through the fogs, towards California. Tomorrow they would reach the San Francisco bay, and a well-earned shoreleave.

- What the devil…

He stared at the radar. There weren’t supposed to be any islands near here? Must be a glitch somewhere, he’d have to replace the equipment when they got home. Peering into the fog, he thought he saw huge, pale shapes in the ocean, moving quickly.

Suddenly the entire ship rumbled and groaned, shaking, with a noise he hadn’t heard since he served in a North Sea fishing fleet. The sound of a ship’s keel being torn into by something beneath it, something huge.

- Ice! We have ice!

The cries from his lookout made no sense. Ice? In the warmest area of the continent? This must be some mistake.

He locked the helm and ran outside, trying to scope the situation. And screamed, as a gigantic, vaguely human-shaped creature rose out of the water, freezing it solid. It looked at him. And spoke, in a grating, booming voice.

- Grotakh varu! Ruhahg vaszt!

Captain Nichols gibbered in fear, and when the giant reached out a hand towards him, he started screaming again.

He was still screaming when the giant chewed him in half, showering the deck with gore.

Donovan Air Force Base, 0900 hrs.

- Sir?

General Pulaski looked up from his desk at the back of the radar room. A young technician stood waiting, a piece of printouts in his hand.

- Yes, what is it now, Gilbert? Another UFO, maybe? Or perhaps you have found out how the Russians are spying on us, even if they don’t have anywhere near the technology…?

It was an old joke running at the base, since lieutenant Gilbert had claimed to have spotted a UFO over Fresno. Pulaski knew that of the aliens who visited Earth, none were stupid enough to get caught on radar, so it had probably been just a flock of birds or something. Now Gilbert was the butt of every little supernatural joke in the place, lately someone had been pestering Gilbert with "leprechauns, man!". He couldn’t abide the young man himself, he asked too many questions.

- Well, sir, take a look at the latest temperature readings…

Right. Well, this ought to take about two minutes…

He stared at the readouts.

- Is this a joke?

Gilbert shook his head, handing him another readout.

- I had this faxed over from El Toro, they’re having the same readings.

General Pulaski took another look at the papers, frowning.

- But…according to this, the temperature outside is only ten degrees Farenheit…and dropping! But…but this is California!

Gilbert gave him a concerned grimace.

- That’s not all, sir. Look at this satellite photo of the coast…

Pulaski stared at the photos. Grainy though they were, he could clearly see the band of ice covering the coastline, spreading in- and outwards. Ice.

- Somebody get me the president.

Tyra looked around. The wreckage after the "truck" lay smoking, the driver unconscious on the ground. His own fault, really. For some stupid reason, he just had to attack her with this frail machine. Everything was so frail here! When she leaned against a wall a while back, it had collapsed! And this human, and his machine…one blow, not even a strong one, had crushed into flakes of metal! Was there nothing or noone on this world to offer any form of resistance? Anything strong enough to even shake her hand? She was getting worried that she would have to live in some desolate area, so she wouldn’t hurt anyone needlessly. She was here to learn, not crush anyone.

Shaking her head, she wandered into what appeared to be a "shop", strangely cut clothes were displayed, with little white tags attached, numbers scribbled on them. Prices? Possibly. Looking into her bag, she decided to attempt to buy some less conspicuous clothes, what she wore was well and fine in its way, but too many people would remember a scantily clad, seven foot redhaired woman. Just as she was about to address the woman who seemed to be in charge, a hand grabbed her shoulder.

- Would you care to step outside?

The hand tightened, and a broad , toothy smile appeared on Tyra’s face. Ah. Maybe not all mortals were weaklings…she turned. The woman behind her was a good head shorter than herself, with long, golden hair, and almost attractive enough to be of the Vanir, though she obviously lacked godly charisma. And the way she was dressed…a strange combination of red and blue, managing to be less covering than her own clothes, and a long red cape, reaching her red boots. Finally a decent fight! She casually turned slightly backwards, before delivering a blow that sent the woman through the window and two buildings across the street.

- After you…

She stepped out of the wrecked store, brushing plaster dust and pieces of glass out of her hair, waiting for the woman to return. When she did, the sight caused her to actually gawk. The woman flew! Actually flew! This could turn out to be quite a lot of fun!

- Look, I don’t know who you are, lady, but I don’t let anyone surprise me like that! You’re going down!

Tyra raised an eyebrow. This tiny mortal beat her? That would be the day…

She smiled, a mocking smile, offering her jaw for the woman.

- Go ahead, mortal, I won’t stop you…

The punch actually sent her flying a few miles up into the air, she had time to wonder how rational that gesture had been before she hit the hard, redsanded ground of a desert, the impact tearing the ground up, the crater big enough to house the Fenris wolf. She laughed. Yes! This was fun! She would only toy with the woman for a little while longer…

- Had enough?

She turned, finding the blonde woman hovering in the air above her. The woman frowned at her, crossing her arms under her chest.

- Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny! You’ve hospitalized several innocent people today, and then you attacked me…either you’re from out of town, or you’re nuts…so who the hell are you?

Tyra threw back her mane of red hair, practically oozing with self confidence, her green eyes starting to glow, a sure sign of her using the power she inherited from her mother…

- I am Tyra, daughter of Tyr the wargod and Sigrid the valkyrie, and I was sent here to…well, that’s none of your business, really…do tell me, are you the only one with a half pint of strength around here?

The woman shook her head in disbelief, either because of the claim to godhood or because she didn’t cower before her.

- Okay, so you’re nuts…listen, either you come quietly, or I’ll have to do this the hard way, now which is it gonna be?

Tyra pretended to consider it, briefly, then smiled again.

- Why don’t you make me…

Kara gave a shrug, and flew down, trying to sweep the madwoman off the ground, and found herself hitting something harder than a Velorian. The shockwave caused a mountain nearby to crumble slightly. And she found herself sitting on her rump in the crater, the redhead giving her a condescending smile.

- Oh dear, I don’t think I mentioned, my grandfather, on my mother’s side, was Volstagg, the one man not even Tor could lift…I inherited a smidgeon of his powers…you would move this planet before me…

She looked on as Kara got up, not lifting a finger. And then she started clenching her muscles. It looked absolutely frightening. The already bulging biceps of the redhead grew to almost grotesque proportions, making Kara look thin as a wisp, almost everything on the woman grew, including her breasts, until her clothes started to rip apart, thanks to the thin waist of the redhead, her shorts stayed on, but only barely, and there wasn’t much left of her top. Kara started wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into, but put the doubt at the back of her head and gave the woman a roundhouse punch strong enough to pulverize a small moon. The woman staggered back a few feet, shivered slightly, and then looked straight at her. (Oh, dear, her eyes…she’s not human…)

- My turn, mortal…

The first blow broke her nose, (and caused a nearby airbase to look for approaching jets) the second, in her solar plexus, made her gasp for breath, the third, an uppercut that would flatten Nebraska sent her flying, as she stopped in mid-air she briefly contemplated running away, but the sight of the woman leaping into the air, bearing down on her, quickly erased such thoughts, only about a nanosecond before the collision. As they hit the ground, something snapped. She started moving with enough speed to make light look slow, punching the redhead over and over, only making the woman grunt, but at least she felt them. Until finally they fell on each other, snarling and hitting, wrestling with each other in a way to make any streetfighter look proud. For what seemed like an eternity, she fought with all her strength, trying to get in the one good hit to finish the fight, and suddenly she found herself holding the woman down to the ground, her arms trembling with the effort. The red haze vanished from her eyes, and she began to think clearly again. She felt dirty and sweaty, her clothes clammy, her every cell felt sore. And then she noticed that the woman was shaking. She looked at the redhead, concern in her eyes.

- Uh, are you seriously hurt?

The woman was laughing so hard, tears came from the corners of her eyes. With an effortless display of grace, she easily threw Kara off, but she didn’t leave, instead she sat on the ground laughing like crazy.

- What the hell is wrong with you, lady? You come into town, wreck everything, pick a fight with me, and when I win, you laugh?

The redhead only continued laughing, but she could vaguely discern the words "only because I let you".

- Bull…

Then again…the woman had thrown her off like a glove, and she had been pushing down as hard as she could…well, at least it wasn’t an Arion, they never got this strong…some relative of her own people? Or some other race, only similar to humans…? Or maybe…no. That was ridiculous. There was no such thing as gods. Her history teacher on Velor had said that many primitive races had seen Velorians as gods, and started most religions…

After a while, the redhead calmed down, wiping dirt and tears from her eyes, giggling slightly now and then. Then she held out a hand towards the shocked Kara.

- Well, mortal, you may not be able to defeat even Hoder, the blind god, but you surely must have Aesir or Vanir blood in you, because that was a quite refreshing fight…now, I may trust you. Tell me, what is your name?

She stared at the redhead. What…what the…finally, she offer her hand, cautiously.

- Uh…Kara…Kara Zorel…

The redhead brushed back a lock of errant red hair, shaking her hand, (ouch, she had a grip like a vise!) and grinning.

- Well, Kara Zorel, I am, as I said earlier, Tyra of the Aesir, only a minor goddess, but still, I was born of…two gods.

The hesitation in that last was slight, but not unnoticeable, Kara never noticed it, though, because she was still a bit dazed, and this…

- Look, I don’t believe in God, or any gods for that matter, and I happen to know that there are many alien races at a strength level of my race, so…

Tyra merely shrugged.

- You may not believe in us, but we believe in you. By the way, the Christian God is quite a bore, he keeps nagging about commandments all the time, so it’s no wonder noone truly believes in him anymore…

This was crazy. She actually found herself having reason to trust this woman. No! This woman was no more a goddess than she was!

- I still don’t believe a word you say, lady…and I won’t until you prove it…

Tyra gave her a thoughtful look. Finally she nodded, taking Kara’s face in a firm grip, turning it to stare into her eyes. At first she tried tearing loose, but then she saw what was in the eyes of the woman…

First, stars. And endless sea of stars. Galaxies and nebulas, swirling in the endless ocean of space, being born and dying in seconds. And Tyra’s voice.

- Behold, mortal. Behold what few have witnessed and survived to tell. What even fewer have witnessed and kept their sanity. Behold the past.

She saw Earth, but it looked greener, bluer than today, and something told her it was an earlier Earth. The vision swept her down towards the planet, and she saw…

She saw satyrs and fauns dancing with nymphs and female satyrs on Hellene fields, where a short, rotund man dressed in wineleaves and vines was tied to a pole, from a spring nearby wine poured. Tyra’s voice could be heard.

- Dionysos. The twice-born god. Before they incorporated all the resurrection myths into the tale of the Christian Messiah.

The vision swept upwards again, heading for a desert area divided by a thin strip of greenery and a long river, only, this Egypt was far greener, the strip of green was almost covering the land itself, a gigantic sphinx carved into stone lay near a massive, gleaming pyramid, but the sphinx had no human head, but that of a gigantic cat, and beneath it men and women and creatures who looked half wolf, half man, or half cat, half woman, danced gracefully beneath the stern eyes of gigantic, animalheaded gods. The vision turned east, ending up in the clouds far above what would one day be China, where strangely humanlike gods and goddesses held court. A Celestial Court. The vision swept back, again to Greece, to a mountain where a man made of thunder and a woman with the expression of a disgruntled wife stood above a court of gods of all sizes and clothing.

- Mount Olympos, home of the Hellene gods…

Again, upwards, now northeast, to a land where strange, boxy pyramidtemples sacrificed lambs and doves to a burning man made of sunlight, (she recognized him, somehow) riding on a massive, burning bull.

- Mithras, a sun god of ancient Assyria…it is said he was once mortal, belonging to a race called the Old Ones…

Upwards, northwards, where two- and threefaced gods and goddesses ruled a people who sacrificed people in dark oaks, a people with six foot steel swords and dreadlocks, mostly wearing only trousers patterned like Scottish kilts.

- The Celts and their dark gods of schizophrenia and war…not so bad once you get to know them…

Northwards, upwards, to a land where it was not quite so cold as later, Anglo-Saxon historians thought, where gods with blonde and red hair ruled a people no more civilized than other tribes at this time, but who had found ways to sail the oceans and rivers alike, spreading the rumors of the "savage" men of the bays, the "Viking". Past the north pole, towards…


She pulled loose from the viselike grip of the goddess, (yes, she was a goddess) dropping to her knees, crying. Tyra gave her a pitiless look, shaking her head.

- You did say you wanted proof. I gave you proof. And you take it far better than the old priests would, they usually went mad or died.

Finally, Kara turned her face upwards, slowly standing up.

- Why…why aren’t there any more gods? Did they die, or leave, or…and why don’t they try to set the world straight? If they did, this world wouldn’t need the help of a Velorian Protector…

The goddess turned her head slightly, giving her a thoughtful gaze.

- Yes…I suppose I can tell you, you seem honest and bright enough not to blab it all over this world…

Again, she gripped Kara’s face, the Velorian protesting violently, but having no choice but to look.

- Do not worry, this will not be as painful…sadder, perhaps, but not as painful…

First, all she saw was a vision of horror, butchered bodies, humans, their blood pouring into a sea, turning the waters red.

- It all began with Hathor, the Egyptian goddess of lust and war…

A lionheaded giantess strode among the corpses, occasionally gnawing the arm or torse of one of the dead, until her naked body was covered in gore. The sight made Kara want to gag, but she couldn’t help but watch the events emblazoned into her mind. Gods she had seen glimpses of in other countries, including the burning man, confronted the mad goddess, apparently trying to reason with her. Finally they clapped her in irons, or was it metal? It looked more like some form of energy to her…then she saw the same gods speaking to the Celt gods and goddesses, the Norse pantheon, the Chinese, the American Native, the South American (damn, they were ugly!) the Hellene, the African…finally she saw how one of the gods, a tall man dressed in a dark grey cloak, a floppy, widebrimmed hat, a black eyepatch marring his face, and two ravens on his shoulders, two wolves at his feet, the god holding a long spear in his hand, creating a gigantic portal of white light. And the gods went inside the portal, and vanished.

- The gods, well, some of them, realized that our time would soon be over. The humans no longer needed gods, so many of the deities began demanding ritual sacrifices, or they would punish them, escalating until one day Hathor slew an entire nation to satisfy her bloodthirst, the final straw. So they decided to leave this plane, to the dimension called Limbo, and let the humans try to evolve, and survive, without unpredictable gods to make their lives harder. We also realized that if we just exiled the deities who were…"evil", we wouldn’t be able to see what they were doing, so we followed…many humans continued to worship us, for many millennia, but slowly, our faiths died. A select few of us were allowed to return and watch the humans from time to time, but never to stay. Until me. I was exiled here, by orders of Woden Allfather himself. Why, I don’t know, the reason they gave does not sit well with me, but it is not for me to doubt.

The vision faded, and Kara found herself sitting on a rooftop above the street in which she had gone through a few buildings, only…what, minutes? Hours before? Tyra jumped down, picking up a small duffel with a lot of pins and stickers on it, rooting through it, after a while pulling out an armygreen t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She put them on, not bothering with the looks this drew from the firemen and police gathered around, and then walked over to Kara.

- Tell, me, Kara, are all clothes as flimsy on this world?

Kara nodded slightly, hiding her amusement at the reactions Tyras strip had caused. She sure was no prude…

Tyra obviously misinterpreted her grin, as she waved a dismissive arm towards those around them.

- Oh, you think I should have covered myself? They’re only mortals, they couldn’t do anything to me I don’t want to, so I’ve never bothered with that…if there had been a few Aesir around, though…I most certainly would have hidden behind something…

With an amused grin and a shake of her head, Kara took hold of Tyra’s shoulder.

- Come on, I’d better inform you of some do’s and don’t of this world…

And she wondered to herself, what the hell was she supposed to do with a real, live goddess? Build a temple? That should go well with the Earth Firsters…oh dear, they would be a problem…if Tyra was as fond of fighting as she seemed, the Earth First movement might have quite a nasty surprise ahead of it…

To be continued…


Sharon Best, Aurora Universe, Copyright 1995,1996,1997

(Aurora Universe materials are strictly for Mature Readers over 18 years of age!)