Ancient power surged around Arula. Lightning cut the blackness and smote the temple's foundations. White light sprang up, illuminating the world with its brilliance. The spawn of Helas shrieked in agony, unable to bear the light. They fled in mass for the protection of the red gate. Their rush buffet Arula like a storm. She struggled to remain upright, waiting until the last creature slipped into Helheim. With a shout, Arula laid the black hammer across the gap and struck both the dark weapon and the gate with Mjolnir's twin.

The black hammer exploded. The force threw Arula against the rear wall as the earth trembled. From the gap, she heard an anguished wail as the altar began to meld under a pinnacle of light too bright even for one with True Seeing to bear. In pain, Arula cringed and hid her face. The magic filled her ears with a roar that threatened to deafen her, slamming her senses over and over like the waves of the northern seas. The weight of magic pressed Arula down until she lost contact even with her own senses and reality. Her world went black.

Moving hurt. Even thinking about moving hurt, though Arula was stubborn enough to try when consciousness returned. There wasn't much in the way of light. How long have I been here? The soft yellow glow of a few lanterns set about the ruins caught her attention. She squinted at the two faces looming close to her vision, one male and one female.

"I take it this isn't Valhalla," Arula said with a grimace.

Ham's worried expression broke into a grin of relief. "I should have known you were too hard headed to die."

Arula smirked and turned her head to look at Aunt Nora. Not far behind the Dvergar woman stood Uncle Scorcher and several unfamiliar faces. Above, Arula saw stars and a rising moon that bathed portions of the ruins in milky blue light. Aunt Nora was wringing a towel over a bowl that smelled of herb water. She daubed it to what was apparently a cut on Arula's forehead.

"How long have I been here?" Arula asked, glancing back at Ham.

"All day and most of the night," he replied. "When all the noise stopped this morning, a few of us worked up the nerve to slip up here and see what had happened. I swear, Rul, I thought you were dead, but Aunt Nora said you were only asleep. We've been up here keeping an eye on you ever since with that stone of yours giving us some very suspicious looks. I'm just glad to see you're all right."

"Everything hurts," Arula said, "but I'll live."

She struggled to sit up, even though it made her head spin. Aunt Nora pursed her lips in dismay, ready to scold, but Arula waved the Dvergar woman off and attempted to stand. The effort failed. Arula wasn't ready yet. She sat back down and reached for the Thunder Hammer. "Thurisaz uruz," she whispered. The magical symbiosis she shared with the weapon felt warm and flooded her with healing strength. The aches of her body faded into warm memories.

All around, the air of the temple had taken on a friendlier taint. Arula let her senses sweep outward, searching for some sign, but she could find nothing of the evil that had once raped this temple.

"Looks like Helas' host are gone," Arula said. Weariness was settling on her like a blanket.

"That's probably because you did as you promised and closed the gate," Scorcher said with a subdued grin. "I hope you can forgive me for not having more faith in you or your god. Once I realized everything was all right, it took me a while to convince some of the villagers to come see for themselves. There's a lot of grateful folk in Thunor's Hill who want to throw a feast in your honor as soon as your able to stand it."

"Give your feast to Thunor," Arula said, "and I'll gladly pour the libations for you." She turned a pleasant smile on Aunt Nora. "Thunor never really abandoned this place, and I only did what I had to do, thanks to you, Aunt Nora. Here I am, the Hammer Maid, but it was your simple faith that gave me the power to stop the Black Priest."

Aunt Nora grinned, apple cheeks blooming a healthy red. "Thunor's blessing is here," she said. "See?"

She pointed towards the altar, and Arula followed the gaze. The gap in the stone had closed. The surface was broken with an imprint that resembled the stick runes Aunt Nora so carefully made. Arula reached for the spot and felt warm magic under her fingers. She smiled as a certain satisfaction swept over her.

The fear had been banished from the temple, and the thunder god's blessing had returned to Thunor's Hill.