Doc Stalwart #253

A Hero’s Journey

Adapted from The Mighty Doc Stalwart #253 (April 1984)

By Dr. Mike Desing

Doc peered at the one-way glass, scratching his chin. Mr. Silvers rifled through an exceptionally thick file folder, skimming for something. The dark imp Jynx was spinning in a circle, chasing his own tail. Zirah stood akimbo, arms crossed, staring at the glass, her swords across her back.

      Mikah wondered how much longer they would watch the woman sitting in a chair in the empty white room on the other side. She was blonde and fair skinned. And pretty. And clad in full mail armor. 

      And she looked angry.

      Mr. Silvers coughed. “Found it. Modi...  of Thor…” he mumbled a few things… “her name means--”

      “Brave,” Doc finished. “Myth claims that Thor had two sons… clearly, myth gets a few things wrong.”

      Mr. Silvers had finished his review of the file, “it seems like the best course of action would be to--”

      But Doc had already passed through two doors and was in the next room. Mikah decided to follow. Crossing into the room, Doc addressed her, “Modi, what brings you here?”

      The woman’s face remained stern. This close, Mikah could see the hundreds of scratches and dents that covered her armor. She opened a closed fist and produced a sliver of rock. Her voice was like a stream of cold water. “I’ve found the last piece. I know you’ve been working on it. I need to get home.”

      Doc nodded. He loosed a ‘hmph’ that was barely audible, “Let my friend here see it.”

      Doc pointed to Mikah.

      She hesitated. Her eyes measured Mikah’s. She nodded. Then she held the sliver of rock forward.

      Mikah took it. The images were immediate and vivid, coming in a series of waves that he struggled just to process: the great fortress of Valhalla, war, giants, fire, a rainbow breaking. A funeral pyre. A secret door.

      Mikah knew, “This will take us into Valhalla. Into its ruins…”

      “No,” she corrected, “It will take me. I have work to finish.”

      “What work?”

      “Valhalla is slipping into the Vast Abyss. Time is short. There is something I need to recover.”

      Doc nodded, measuring her, “Fine. But we come, too. We can help.”

      Zirah and Jynx were at the doorway.

      Modi examined them, looking through them. She saw things beyond mortal sight. Of that, Mikah was sure. Her eyes stopped on Zirah. She was evaluating something.

      “Agreed.” She held out her open palm. Mikah returned the shard of stone. 

      “Well, that was easy.”

 

***

      A series of elevators and shuttles swept them to a remote corner of the vast labyrinth that made up the Tomorrow Complex. A dozen men in white ‘clean suits’ were surprised at the sudden interruption of strange outsiders who marched into their sanitized workspace. They had been carefully assembling a stone door, maybe 10’ square, that rested in the middle of the large, sterile chamber. One of the men choked out, “... Doc Stalwart!” The others moved aside.

      “Thanks for your diligent work, men…” Doc began, examining the door, “fantastic job. We’ll take it from here.”

      Mikah expected some resistance. There was none. Within seconds, the room was clear except for the five of them and the great door. It was carved of blue-grey stone. All manner of ancient runes and symbols covered it. It was complete except for one small crack. The gap for the missing piece was clear on the right side, about halfway up. Modi stepped forward and slid her piece into the narrow cleft.

      The effect was immediate. A door within a door appeared, outlined in light, opening of its own accord. On the other side of the 5’ gap, a great city burned. Things moved in all directions.

      From her belt, Modi produced a small wooden rod, about the size of a pen. She touched it, and it became a war hammer.

      “Mjolnir?” Doc asked. He sounded genuinely impressed. Mikah already knew that it was hard to impress Doc Stalwart.

      “No.” She answered, “My father’s hammer is lost.” Mikah wondered if Doc was thinking the same thing; Mikah could probably find it. He was good at that. Modi touched a spot on her gauntlet, and a shield sprung forth. Armed, she strode through the doorway and into the chaos beyond. The others followed.

      Battle was upon them immediately. They had stepped into something of a side street in the ancient city fortress of Valhalla, now falling into ruin at the hands of thousands of pillagers that cast about in all directions. Orange-skinned, hunch-backed humanoids of awkward gait burrowed towards them. “Earth Trolls,” Modi called out over the din.

      Modi swung her hammer, sending a half dozen flying, while Doc delivered a series of punches that cast off nearly as many. The others followed behind, with Jynx tearing at faces and Zirah cutting through them with quick flicks of her blades. Mikah stayed firmly set in the middle – surrounded on all sides by allies far better at battle than he.

      Towards the middle of the city, a battalion of fire giants pulled down towers and broke through walls. All was chaos. The rumble of stone meeting stone echoed from all around.

      Clearing a way to the back end of the pack of trolls they had met, Modi pushed forward. “This way!” Modi turned to the south, or what appeared to be the south in this place, and away from the heart of the riot. Something moved towards the eastern horizon. Yep. That was a dragon. If Doc noticed, he didn’t let it phase him, “keep moving.” All around, red-skinned giants clad in bronze armor hefted huge flaming swords. Turning to the foot of the steps leading towards a temple, Mikah saw a fire giant wailing upon the pillars supporting the temple, attempting to bring it down.

      Modi’s hammer careened off its shoulder and returned to her hand. She had its attention.       “Welcome home, godling. You see your husband has met his end…”

      This time the hammer hit its nose, and a mixture of blood and fire poured out. It screamed in rage and cruelty, bringing its great sword down upon her. She tried to block it with the shield, but the force was so great that it knocked her sideways as she redirected the swing into the stone. One of the steps cracked.

      Doc Stalwart bounded twice and launched towards its head, maybe fifteen feet up, landing a series of blows against its bloodied face. It grabbed him with its free hand and slammed him into the stone platform it stood upon. Mikah felt the tremor in the heart of the stone from fifty feet away. 

      It had finished with Doc as Modi called out, “Giant!” She hefted her shield in the air and spun around, using her hammer to hit it like a baseball. The shield wedged a foot deep into the forehead of the giant, who fell backward, breathing his last against a crumbling pillar. Modi helped Doc, who was shaking off the awful pummeling he’d taken, to his feet.       Together, they pulled the shield from the dead giant’s forehead and returned it to its place on Modi’s wrist.

      The small group of two heroes and three freaks (Mikah numbered himself among the freaks) crossed into the temple. There, a central platform was covered in ash… over and around a set of dry bones. 

      Modi reached out her hand, “My husband…”

      “Baldur the Bold,” Doc finished, “his death signals Ragnarok.”

      “Indeed it did,” she answered, “the end of our world.”

      Mikah could hear the land tearing apart. The end was nigh.

      “Baldur!” She cried out. “Baldur, I’ve come for it!”

      Something shimmered above the skeleton. It was a flickering form of bluish light, and then it was gone.

      “He has almost fully crossed into the Hall of Heroes. I don’t know if I can reach him.”

      Zirah stepped forward and held out one of her swords, clasping it by the blade and offering the pommel forward. A ghostly blue hand appeared from the ether, grasping the sword. She took the other sword, offering it in the same way. Another hand appeared, and soon a body took shape around it. Zirah had braced her feet against the base of the platform. The thing was pulling on her swords, trying to drag her to where it was.

      Or maybe it was the other way around. Blood dripped from Zirah’s hands, but she held firm, arching her back and pulling.

      “She’s a phantom.” Modi gasped.

      Mikah did too. 

      “The swords,” Doc explained, “they keep her bound to the mortal world. Baldur should be able to pull himself to them for a short time.”

      And he did. He was only a blue phantasm now, but there was no mistaking; this was one of the great gods of old. He gripped both sword handles and willed himself into this world. His edges kept fraying as if caught in a tornado.

      “The Ring,” Modi cried out, “Do you have it?”

      He had pushed the handles of both swords together, and gripped them with his right hand, producing something with his left. It was a simple golden ring.     Zirah had shifted the blades under her armpits, and Doc was helping to brace her. She coughed, and Mikah could hear it. It was the first sound he’d ever heard Zirah make.

      Baldur’s phantom set the ring in Modi’s palm, and closed her hand around it. He smiled at her. Then he let go of the swords and was gone. Zirah fell backwards, but Doc caught her. He lowered her gently to the floor, examining her bloodied arms and hands. Jynx tended to her.

      Mikah went to help, but Doc stopped him, “Nothing we can do. Jynx might be able to help, though.”

      Zirah turned semi-transparent and back a few times as she struggled to reset herself. She gripped the swords by the handles and focused. Mikah realized for the first time that she wasn’t breathing.

      She had never been breathing.

      The stone cracked at their feet. Something crashed outside. The floor started to shift.

      “We have to go!” Modi called. Mikah agreed. She slipped the ring on her middle finger and put hands on Mikah’s and Doc’s shoulders. Doc reached out a hand towards Jynx and the little imp, with one hand still touching Zirah’s shoulder let the other meet Doc’s palm.

      And then everything was spinning.

 

***

      Mikah threw up for the third time. He finally opened his eyes and realized that he was on his hands and knees. They were back in the sterile room in the Citadel of Tomorrow. The great runic door was before them, but it was cold, whatever magic it once contained now spent.

      Doc answered the question before Mikah could ask it, “We have recovered Draupnir, the golden ring. Modi was brave to seek it.”

      “And my husband was bold to take it. He knew that if he left it behind, it would fall into the hands of our enemies. He trusted that I would find him before he took his final rest amid our ancestors.”

      “What does it do?”

      “It allows travel to anywhere and everywhere. I have but to think it, and I am there. I will use it to find the scattered folk of Valhalla. Our new queen, Sif, has established a stronghold in this realm, and I am to bring our lost people to it. Now I can.”

      “I’m sorry. That you lost your husband. And your city,” Mikah said. This didn’t seem like enough, but it was the best he could do.

      “Our lot is battle and loss. We know that those closest to us will fall. It is the way of this calling.” She looked to Doc Stalwart. 

      He knew. All too well, he knew.

      Mikah gulped.

      “I thank you all for your aid. I am in your debt. Do not hesitate to call upon me for assistance.”

      “That’s it? But we could help you…” Mikah offered, checking with Doc to see if he was crossing a line. He didn’t seem to be.

      Modi shook her head, “No. We have different tales to tell, young one. I have my story, and you have yours.” She looked to Mikah, smiling. “I know a skald when I see one. Tell your tale well. Maybe one day you will tell mine, too.”

      He nodded. He understood. Kind of.

      She touched the ring and was gone.

      The moment lingered.

      “So. When were you all going to tell me that Zirah is a ghost?”