Here I stood, eyes gaping at the sight before me. It wasn't natural, it wasn't right. Anger burned bright in my eyes but I made no motion to voice this rage. My nose filled with the foul stench of rotten blood and flesh, pieces of which I could tell were strewn upon the ground.
In this dark cavern, with me sat a demon and next to him in an awful contraption, Michael -of all of those who I had come to known- was strung up like some skinned animal pelt drying. I was somewhat aware of the fact that this demon -or Michael for that matter- had not only summoned me but also my human companions, and Gabby and Zach. The later two, I could tell were cringing away from the contraption Michael was attached to.
I myself had believed that all of those horrifying contraptions had been destroyed. Long ago under the White City, had been crushed and burned. So that never again could our people have to trifle with such abominations and suffer they’re pain.
I took a deep breath of the foul air and let it fill my lungs and I almost could have laughed at the homey feeling I had, but this was not my home not by far. I let the foulness envelope around me I let the smell of blood hide the dark hood of Death that was coming over me. I heard a sort of chuckle in the back of my mind. An old scratchy laugh that could have been one of good nature. Though I knew better, this laugh it was cynical, one of knowing. It was a pitied laugh at the poor fool of a demon who had crossed my path.
The demon's head turned in our small groups direction and gave a disgusting smile of glee because the poor stupid thing had thought itself clever for digging up this old relic that Michael was tied to. I took a step forward and I felt how Requiem tensed and how he wanted to stop me from doing anything foolish, but it was too late. Death was not a merciful being not one of kindness or curtesy not one of relent. Especially if you had angered Death's Throne, Azrael. A title but a fearful one at that and none should ever question or even possibly imagine mocking Death with such a parlor trick.
The demon's cocky grin fell as the mindless oaf realized that the torture device was having no effect on me. By this time I was halfway to the demon and Death had already enveloped me in its dark essence. I stopped just then and stood my ground, Death poured itself into me filling every crevice and I could feel its power in me breathing, its anticipation for the next moments to come. I felt the familiar weight of my scythe in my hand and that was when the demons expression fell into complete terror.
I heard him begin to try and utter some excuse as to why Michael was the way he was, but I didn't give him a chance. Not a moment's hesitation. All I did was swing my hand slightly allowing my scythe to shift a degree or two as if drawing an imaginary line in front of myself. In that moment two things happened, perhaps three. I doubt, though, I'd ever admit to the way watching the demon squirm made me almost smile. The second thing that happened in that moment was a shrilling maniacal laugh in the back of my mind, full of glee and joy at what just had happened as though it had been the most humorous thing ever to occur. Thirdly, thousands of lacerations formed on the demons body drawing a huge amount of blood like a shower that only for a moment enveloped his body before he fell to the ground.
My body moved quickly, ignoring the laughter in my mind, towards Michael now, his bloodied and indignant form upon the device. My bare feet gracefully gliding over bones and slick mud. This time I didn't use my scythe I moved my other hand up and broke the bonds with some sharp strands of my magic. Michael fell forward off of the device and onto the ground in a heap. I moved my hand again, pulling the sharp strands of magic back and then allowing more to come and join them, to encircled the device and then in a sharp motion I fisted my hand and moved my whole arm down.
The whole construct came to ruin then and I set a small green fire upon the archaic material to make sure for certain that the device could never be used again. Nothing but ash left.
I took another two steps on my feet and looked down to Michael as I offered my hand for him to use. He looked at it and then turned his eyes to me. His sea blue eyes were full of spite and he spit out a small portion of blood from his mouth as he ignored my gesture and came to full height of his own aid.
The moment he was standing I let my scythe dissipate into the air. There was a chiding Tsk Tsk, that echoed through my mind along with a subtle I wouldn't do that.
The truth was I really wouldn't have done it, but I really couldn't have made a better decision. Michael was not exactly the easiest to get along with, and keeping my weapon materialized would not be something to ease his aggression.
Michael continued to scrutinize me as we stood slightly apart from one another. I was surprised when none of my friends offered any words to ease the tension themselves. Perhaps though they were intrigued why a man I had just saved would still be so spiteful towards me.
I didn't flinch as Michael raised his hand and in a blast of epic heat and fire his weapon materialized against my throat. I saw from the corner of my eye how Zach's hands twitched for a weapon he himself could easily call forth and stop this meaningless confrontation, the slight high pitched intake of air that Gabby past through her mouth as she witnessed this and of course how everyone's bodies became extremely rigid. Requiem even inclined slightly forward ready to get between us.
I couldn't see how any of them could help though, as we stood about four yards away from any of them. By the time Michael would have swung the sword I would have been long decapitated before they could assist.
It was a beautiful weapon, truly as any of our people's weapons were. It was a long european type sword similar to a claymore but not. It was thinner and the hilt was not very long just so much so that Michael could bear it with one hand. The guard was not a traditional one either, it was a hallowed circle. Each side was an elegant twist from the hilt. The head of course had a rather large blue gem to match the wielders eyes.
We stood silent for a moment until I heard Death again creep around in the depths of my mind and ever so slightly inclined suggestively a condescending So....
I breathed out and looked Michael square in the face, an outright challenge.
And I hissed, "I dare you."
Michael's expression retorted in vulgar hatred. But instead of swinging his mighty beloved sword he called for the dagger that had hung at the demon's belt. He thrusted forward and sank the dagger deep into my breast where my heart would have been.
My eyes shot open from the outburst I had expected something similar but not so as my body convulsed around the dagger. I heard someone angrily yell out "No!"
I had other things to deal with though, Death wanted to rebut the offense against me but I strikingly forced it back down and told the thing to take me away. Death complied and my body evaporated into the dark essence of Death's being. Nothing more than a dark whisp of smoke around that annoying probing blade.
* * *
My mind swirled as we swept past everything; every realm, every planet, every moon, every galaxy.
Look there, Death whispered in my ear. One of its talon like hands coming over my shoulder and pointing to something.
I slowed our passage through time and space and saw just what he was looking at. Within a crest of weakness between worlds was a small opening and through it I saw a feast taking place. Many men and women all crowded around many different tables, all filled with an abundance of the richest looking foods. Though that was not the interesting aspect, what was truly intriguing about the whole occurrence was that there was a slighter figure who sat at the head of the first table. He did not look at all as partaking as the rest of the men and women, he instead look quite board.
People never really change it seems, man or beast... Death cooed from above me. I smiled to the slightest degree, in agreement and amusement. My chest throbbed and I was reminded why I had been thrown into the cracks of space and time again. I sighed in resignation and moved forward.
“Come,” I spoke back to Death. I really didn’t even need to say anything, Death would always be there. As it always would be, for me even when I was little it was always there. Even when I was not its vassal it was always there watching me, observing me, criticizing me, protecting me. The last one wrong out in my mind the deepest.
Death slithered its way back into my being back into the depths of my mind. The only physical trait that it was there, was the awkward gothic belt that hung loosely from my hips, with a pale aquamarine type gemstone. Though the stone was about as big as my fist and did possess a rather eerie glow. A thought crossed my mind.
Why not a red gem? I called in my mind. Death did not respond, but gave an unseen shrug instead. We slipped through the crack and into the festivities. No one paid much mind, as I snuck in next to the king, no guards even raised their weapons as I passed, perhaps the guards too intoxicated to even really notice.
I gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to their precious Allfather.
He was not an ill king, in contrary he was a mighty man with much and a child of Chaos whom I quite respected. The god had lived a long life and soon he knew I would be by his side to take him in and give him to the world around. Though today was not such and I had no interest in taking him away from his home, his family. I did have interest in another member of his family though, the one who had looked uninterested in the festivities. He was already watching me as I passed behind his mother. I didn’t falter in my step and repeated my earlier order.
“Come,” it was even, if perchance I wasn’t. He looked me up and down as I continued walking, turning his head to follow my course of way. I could tell from the moment of hesitation that he must have looked to his father for permission to leave the festivities.
I continued down from the raised portion of the hall down a few steps -four, I counted subconsciously- down near the noblemen. None, took notice of me still as I glided along the edges of the tables. Past, many a happy face, all very content to be talking to one another.
The hall was very large and did take me a minute to cross, somewhere in that minute though, the young man had fallen beside me. He was an adolescent not quite an adult, but certainly not a boy. His raven hair fell to his shoulders now, and his winter green eyes blazed with magic. Dark flowing clothes accented by gold and deep green.
I was quite sure from the aura around him that his magic had advanced a lot over the years. Definitely more advanced for anyone his age, even if they had started as a toddler. It was remarkable really how well his sorcery had blossomed. He was slender, different from those around him, all warriors, sorcery was not usually something that men did here, but it was common enough. Though perhaps for the son of a king it was not as welcomed.
I saw that even though the strangers were not following me with their eyes, they were following him. In fear, knowing, horror? I couldn’t tell, but it wasn’t anything positive.
My lips turned from a thin line to a frown as I thought of this. It was unfair that these people would judge what they did not understand. Not all were born to be warriors some meant to be medics, leaders, counselors. Yet all they could see was some monster. My eyes widened as the word passed through my train of thought. I did not notice when my mind had so easily slipped through some of theirs.
As we approached the doors to the hallway, two lesser drunk guards fumbled awkwardly with the two great doors to open them for us. The second born prince had fallen back just slightly behind my step.
We exited in a blur of black, purple, and green a suitable exit indeed. It made me smile a little really. Though, as soon as we did exit I took a sharp left and twisted my way through curtains and marble columns.
It reminded me of a maze, a game of cat and mouse as I moved and he followed on silent feet. My bare feet padded on the hard stone beneath me, a soft thrum for him to follow. I smiled as the game progressed my steps becoming quicker and lighter and harder to follow. Death also put a soft shadow on me so as not to be so easily seen. I could hear how the second princes' steps became harder as he started to actually chase me as if we were two young children in his mother's garden.
I pulled at the magic shadow hiding me and pressed it to my body. I changed the structure of the magic so that it could be unstable. This way I could shift my shape to no longer appear as a child but as a young woman of his age.
I didn't change any of my underlying appearance I still had red eyes and violet hair. It was still me, just an older me I suppose.
I could see what I was aiming at now in the far corner, behind all the drapery and columns was a door. A door hardly used, but a door nonetheless. It was also hidden behind two thin see through curtains. No light reached this corner of the room. No one except for Death perhaps saw how my grin grew wider as the footsteps behind me came closer.
My hand reached the handle of the door, and I pulled. I took a slight moment to look back and I slightly regretted it.
He had caught up to me and I had yet to realize it yet. He pushed me through the open door and into the stairwell. Just as he was to get a handle on me I slipped away as he slammed the door.
I giggled slightly at the frustration that was clear on his face.
"You're not one to usually get so upset, Loki," I purred his name softly in the dim lit shaft.
His eyes flashed emerald with something strange. His glooming figure came closer to me and I backed down a few steps to the next platform. He followed me still until I was pressed up against the wall.
My bare midriff had somehow obtained a dark ruby navel ring, that his hand had already begun to fiddle with.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed. I grinned back with scarlet eyes, deep as blood.
"Can't I just visit you, " it wasn't meant as a statement or a question just, a snide remark to play with him. He growled in returned as my grin turned into a cheshire's smile.
"No," he said pushing up against me. The Expelled souls that constituted as my tight skinned black shorts and tube top, shivered and almost broke away from my body as his magic came to be around me. He was holding back, he wanted this but wouldn't admit it. My grin was plastered to my face now.
"Why are you here?" Though his movements were harsh and his mouth formed into a thin line, I heard the caress that the words held.
I had been studying the creamy expanse of the small piece of throat that he held available for my eyes, but when I heard his words my eyes shot up towards his. For years I had yet to see those eyes and how they would change as he matured but now seeing them something broke inside me.
I saw love and admiration there was no doubt, that was there in his deep viper eyes. But there were other emotions, despair, and broken hope, betrayal and desperation. More than any though I saw in those eyes was concern and I hated it, it made my stomach twist and I couldn't take it.
My lips connected with his and I jumped up to lock my ankles around his back. He gave a slightly startled grunt but instinctively placed his hands on the back of my thighs to brace me. My body weighed less than dust and I'm sure he could have just stood there but it reassured me that he needed me there. That he wanted me there.
Lips pushed harshly together in what I wanted to portray as need. My tongue slid across his lower lip, I honestly believed he would have pushed me away by now but he hadn't. He did however break from me when my tongue reclined back into my mouth. My eyes were steady with his as he set me down, set me down like a frail piece of glass. As though I might break if he did much more.
"You are injured, " he murmured his hand still lightly grazing my side. I frowned.
"Really? The one time I would actually fuck you and you're going to ruin it?" He only watched me in return. Studying me as we stood in the tight darkly lit space. His eyes wandered around me as if in awe, eyes glazed over.
I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, some of my fingers lacing through his ink hair, so soft.
"You mustn't worry on things that you cannot aid in." I heard a rattle over his left shoulder but I ignored it. His eyes no longer lost in thought found my scarlet ones.
"But if you would simply-"
"Enough," I whispered dragging my hand from his marble skin. His hand shot up to catch mine, our fingers intertwining.
"Please" I saw the worry, the concern in his eyes. I felt woozy again.
"I thought you one to hate sentiment?" His gaze did not wonder, the comment not jarring him or putting him on a tangent as I wished it to have. He held my hand fiercely and the other was no less protective on my waist.
"You would allow yourself to be ruined, destroyed, degraded before allowing anyone to help you. Never even so much as giving your name, disappearing, reappearing. Aiding when there is no reason for you to be involved. Yet you would give up everything just to see a flower blossom. That is not fair, to anyone especially yourself. " It was one big long rushed sentence, flooded with emotion.
"And what does a name matter?" I shot back on reflex "What purpose does it give? Is one still not happy, when they are left for not, when perchance I am there to aid them?"
"You do not simply aid them you give them meaning, prosperity, opportunity."
"And is that not well enough a trade for not coming to hear my name?"
"You are hurt, injured nearly to the brink of disappearing. Yet you would have none aid you, when you have done so much for this world, all worlds."
"I do what I must," he shifted on his feet and released me from his hold.
"But you do not take what you need when we would so willingly offer it to you." I knew now there was someone watching us, it was a strong presence bristled by electricity. I gave in then, fighting him would only wear on me now and I really was feeling quite tired.
I leaned forward on my feet, into him. I was still much shorter than him so my head only fell to his chest, an irritating adornment of his clothes resting cold against my brow.
His hands returned to me then soothing and reassuring, perhaps an apology for bickering with me. One dragging lightly through my hair the other on my lower back.
"I have missed you," a soft sigh that escaped from his chest.
"And I you," I murmured back. The presence was still there and I couldn't have cared less. "Loki," I nuzzled deeper into the half embrace my hands still hanging at my sides.
"Please, allow me to help you. This gesture is not of pity, nor gratitude, but simply because you are my friend," he took a breath. "And I love you."
My hands came to cling to him, my eyes shut tightly. The electricity in the background turned to static. Loki still remained still, ignoring it.
I shrank in his embrace, both physically and metaphorically. My mind came undone, Death peeling away from my body entirely, coming to hover low near the ground still keeping a small strand of itself spiraled around me.
I'm positively sure now that I must have looked awful. Black hair instead of violet, vibrant scarlet eyes turning pastel. Dark crisscross scars across my wrists, throat and ankles. My body must have also been quite gaunt. Cheeks hollowed out, ribs showing, sharp angles, just skin and bones.
Death muttered about feeling cramped in the small space. Loki kneeled to be closer to me, nearer to my height. His hands so light, almost not touching trying to be careful. Though his effort was appreciated everything still hurt, unbearably so. Well what did you expect? Death muttered to me.
"Loki, what has happened?" A voice boomed off to the right. My eyes could not focus as I collapsed, but I knew the voice belonged to Loki's brother, the thunderer Thor.
"Hush," Loki hissed back. He carefully, trying not to jocel me to much, swung his arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees to pick me up. Our size difference even greater than it had been when I was leaning against him, I being the size of a child again. Death hung low near the ground a wisp of black smoke. Thor was speaking again but I didn't care what he had to say, instead I focused on the light rhythm in Loki's chest.
We ascended the stairs quickly to the upper floors of the palace. Loki hissed again at Thor, something about opening the door. I could then feel the cool night air and realized we were in a main corridor. Both Loki and Thor's step in sink. I moved closer into Loki's warmth at least enough to escape from the chilly night. Asgards moons high and brightly shone in the night sky. We reached double doors carved and painted in gold and viper green. The doors parted for us slowly and with efforts of old magic.
I suppose the only reason I could recall any of this was due to the fact that Death was so preoccupied trying to ignore the fact that I was injured, dying really. Whatever it saw I saw and vise versa. We were the same being, the same creature. Two halves to a whole.
I was set on a huge black plush leather sofa in front of a mantle even larger that held a fire that blazed with light. The heat warming my skin.
"Brother, who is she?" Thor again attempted to gain some sort of understanding of the situation. Loki, again ignored him shuffling about his room picking up vials and setting them down searching.
"An old friend," Loki responded softly, wetting my head with an old rag it smelled like it had been dipped in spider lily water. It was so sweet and soothing.
"A friend? Brother it did not seem that way in the stairwell," Thor eyed him suspiciously. "I know it not my place to be so inquisitive towards your personal life but we are brothers," I croaked then, trying to remind them what was president at the moment. Thor's eyes flew back to me. "How can I help?" he asked aimlessly lost.
"Nothing, leave," Loki retorted sharply.
"I will not, " Thor shot back hotly
"Then stay out of the way," Loki moved away from me and I whimpered from the loss. He returned not a moment later.
"Can you get onto your stomach?" I rolled over slowly, very slowly each movement an endless burn deep in my bones. I collapsed down onto my stomach once I turned. Loki pulled at the fine cloth that was covering me. I saw through the blurriness of my vision the way his face paled. He carefully hovered his hand over each gash in my back, a paralleled couple staring angrily at him. He looked to me inquisitively , and ever so slowly placed a hand above one of the deep gouges.
I did everything I could not to scream not to cry out, but I couldn't help it it was a horrible shrieking sound that came through my throat. The kind of sound a bird makes when their wings are being torn from them. Memories flashed through my mind with the pain, a sword, blood so much blood flames burning and singing dark feathers.
Loki worked through my keening as quickly as he could still trying to be careful. My body was heavy with sweat with all the pain. Then suddenly it all vanished a great relief to my body. Loki set the small bowl of herbs and magic down beside him. I was panting and Loki looked no better.
Thor came round to gain a better view, he looked as though he was going to be sick as he saw my back, my cheek resting on a pillow from the couch. I could peer at him from the corner of my eye. His mouth hung agape slightly and finally he spoke after the long silence.
"Who did this to you?" it was a whisper one of disbelief.
I closed my eyes and shook my head slightly.
"Answer," Loki was glaring at me when my eyes fluttered back open.
"Who do you think?" Loki continued to stare then shifted his eyes to my back. He reached out tentatively and I inhaled sharply, but all he did was extend his magic to the wounds. An even greater soothing to the dull ache, I hummed in appreciation as the light green strands lapped at my wounds.
"To ruin something so beautiful," Loki said lowly but he wasn't looking at me, solely focused on the tendrils of magic.
"Some do not view me as such," I spoke back softly it seemed as though he wasn't expecting a response. The crease between his eyes deepening.
"You are a child of Raphael.” He paused his eyes darting to find mine and back down to the wound. “How could one not see you as such?" he finished.
"I am but a pigeon." Loki looked dumbfounded and opened his mouth to speak but I quickly quipped in; "I'm tired" and let my eyes close. Loki closed his mouth with an audible click of his tongue.
"Fine, but a bath first. I do not care for you to ruin my couch."
“And I suppose you will bathe me?" I asked with a slight quirk to my lips, eyes still closed. Loki clicked his tongue again, a strange habit.
"Only if you would wish it so," it was a snide remark in response to one and I huffed slightly. A smile playing on my lips. Thor cleared his throat obviously thinking that we had forgotten his presence.
I sat up then, not abruptly but fast enough that Loki put his hands up in apprehension and I rolled my eyes at him. I looked over to Thor then and asked a very simple question.
"How are Huggin and Muninn?" Thor looked befuddled until answering wearly.
"Well, I suppose..."
"Good!" I beamed up at him from my place on the sofa.
"Were you not just dying a moment ago?" He still seemed confused.
"Yes," I returned bobbing my head from side to side contemplating. "And no, it's complicated. I cannot die, but my soul is not stable at the moment, it wishes to shatter so to say." I moved my hands in a dispersing manner with my last words.
"My brother stopped the fracturing?" Thor asked still trying to catch on.
"No," I shook my head. "He eased the wounds on my back which are part of the reason my soul is the way it is. To be fair, his presence enough resonates with my soul and keeps it from falling apart." Thor nodded slowly, coming a bit closer to us.
"How?"
"Souls and magic that the soul gives off, it's power if you will, gives off a certain type of wave or current. Some are strong enough, similar enough to affect others. " I smiled. " While perhaps my magic- my soul- is out of rhythm" I raised my hands and air quoted. "if there is another who has similar rhythm to how mine should be it can regulate it and calm it, keeping my soul from falling apart. "
"Why are yours similar?" I was quiet my eyes shifting to Loki who only looked at his brother. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.
"We share a piece of the same magic." I felt how Loki's whole being went ridged, a sharp sword I was scared to even pick up scared I would hurt myself.
"You two are a pair then?" My eyes shot open
"No," both Loki and I breathed out harshly. Thor raised a golden eyebrow. I looked at Loki, then back to Thor.
“Perhaps I should go,” I stood and moved towards the glass doors that led to the balcony.
“No,” Thor called across the room I stilled in my tracks. “Forgive me, I did not mean to insult either of you.” I looked over my shoulder.
“You didn’t,” I called.
“I still have yet to heal the injury on your chest,” Loki fussed standing up. I shrugged and evaporated into nothingness.
***
Why did you leave? I was floating again in the vastness of everything that was. Death came to circle around my drifting form, red beady eyes gleaming at me in the darkness. I know you like his company, girl.It was different, Death had no actual face or mouth when it spoke it was more of a shadow or profile. Which spoke in a voice that not so much came from it but from everywhere that surrounded you. I could see more though behind its veil an actual person, a man. Just as I always had, an older gent one who appeared around his late 40's in human years. I remember once mentioning this while in the company of Samuel, it had not been a pleasant day after words. Samuel responded in a very cruel manner and would not speak or look at me and when I tried to get his attention he had shoved me aside. Death had told me not to worry that it was a good thing, a wonderful thing that I could see him, that Samuel had been jealous. Death had stayed by my side playing with me, all day long until I fell asleep beneath the birch trees behind the manor belonging to the title of Azrael.
My eyes flickered up to Death it’s amorphous shape looming over me. I reached out to touch and though there was an instant where all my fingers fell through was gritty smoke, it did still as I hit an arm that materialized. Death’s shape stilling, the smoke coming together and forming a whole body. A body I recognized with raven hair and green eyes. I hissed at him for such a jest, his face rippled again his body following, with a slight chuckle, until he was another man but one with red eyes and violet hair. A man who was simply a masculine form of myself and older. It cradled me as we floated. It wore a soft cotton black t-shirt, along with some black jeans and black boots. Hair braided to it's lower back just like Tova use to. Humming an old tune that are people would sing to the Cherubim. I of course never knew such tunes, growing up far away from any true angels.
“We could stay here you know, together an eternity of floating through space free of any restraint. I could rip off that damned cufflink and you could have your wings back. No one could find us I'd cloak us no one would ever bother us again. ” Death lightly placed his chin atop my head in his arms.
“Who are you and what have done with my Essence?” Death rolled his eyes and even though I couldn’t see it I just knew. It was strange how we were connected, scary almost.
"I'm being serious Mina," Death scolded gently. "I know you want to run away, I'm giving you that option." My hands were tight balls ruffling its shirt. I sighed and closed my eyes.
"I know and I'm very grateful you've always cared for me perhaps even more than you should." I blinked up, steading my gaze with Death. "But you know we can't." Death brought it’s pale hand, to my cheek our skin a matching tone that blurred together, stroking my cheek with its long slender fingers. You could not have told us apart I’m sure. But Death shifted away from me, broke apart and formed back into a blur of smoke, the only thing that stayed constant were it’s eyes.
It wove it’s hands between us, old magic that only it used. It’s magic, old just like itself. From the dark being of Death came others but not such as it. I knew what these were, he had called Announcers. They were simple creatures truly a collection of information of the subconscious gathered and left to be forgotten. Lost memories of what once was, or perhaps even of things that should have been long forgotten.
They continued to spread out until one came forth that Death caught with its talon hand, it was screaming a silent shriek in Deaths palm. It was twisting and turning, but it could never escape not until Death wanted to let go. Death examined the Announcer until deeming it the proper one for the occasion. Announcers are a quick and efficient way to collect information. Death continued to squeeze the it until it burst, complete shadow casting over us consuming us until we were placed in another time, another place.
"Come on!"
That was me right there, the girl with the white hair and the pale blue eyes- though this memory was quite old and I had long since changed. Scary weren’t they, my eyes, like I was a ghost? That's what people had once said. Oh, and that boy behind me.
"Come on, you know I can't run as fast as you!" Yes, that was.... was Loki. I frowned slightly this was not a memory I wanted to relive. You see when we were both young we would play in his mother's garden. It was a beautiful place, with exotic plants and fountains and there was this pond in the middle of the palace garden, his mum would stay there and weave all the time. I never knew exactly what but I never paid much attention to Loki's step mum, Frigga was always very quiet and just accepted the fact that Loki would play with me, the girl never scene. His imaginary friend but Frigga knew. They said Frigga could see the threads of fate that the gray witches spun and dealt and cut.
I could see them too, time and space, future and past, present and of course what may have been or could be still. I suppose I had all the bells and whistles where Frigga needed to concentrate more, it flowed for me whereas for her it was an old faucet that creaked as you turned the rusty handle. I always had envied her for that, that she could turn it off she did not have to see it didn't have to know what was a possibility. Not so much good decisions, or positive accidents but the horrible things that you might sometimes see, deaths, sadness, pain, being ripped from your happiness. When I was younger my powers had been suppressed from me so that I was hidden from the world, protected, safe. Now though I have to live with it, in the end I have no one to blame but myself. It had been my decision to be who I was meant to be, it was necessary. I was needed and there would always be necessary things that would always need to happen. It was how the world worked.
"AH!" Loki had slipped and cut a big gash into his leg, there was blood everywhere. He was crying, already soaked from slipping into the river. I had quickly used a levitation spell and pulled him out. He was still sobbing lowly as I used some eternal fire to dry his clothes and warm him. It also helped to sterilize the wound. After it seemed clean and I took a closer look putting my face only a couple of inches off of Loki's leg and peeling back the torn edges of Loki's leggings I deemed it clean enough to hold my hand just above it and allow some of my own magic to sink in and heal the wound. I hummed a nameless song as we sat there at the edge of the river. My magic flowing, and as he calmed he started to add his own magic to try and help, an unconscious reaction not registered by him.
"Why won't you tell me your name?" my blue eyes darted up to him. I started slowly and stuttered slightly.
"Isn't being your friend enough?" Loki looked sheepishly at her, at me, and blushed.
"I suppose…" he looked down at my hands that gave a slight reddish violet glow. "How do you do that?"
"What? Heal you?" My chiseled ice coloured eyes found his calming leaf green eyes. He nodded, my head bobbing back and forth in consideration.
"It becomes simple over time, it starts to flow freely once you've got it down like a never ending fountain," I smiled idly running my fingers over the closing gash "but I suppose since you can already perform magic, you mean to understand how to heal your own self. Correct?" I looked back at him dropping my hand from the gash, that was hardly evident anymore. He nodded his head again and looked away. I reached forward and pulled his hands forward into my lap. He looked back at me and had a confused expression. I giggled, just because it was funny when someone caught Loki off guard.
He blushed again looking at me up through his lashes, I smiled at him and he smiled back softly.
"What you have to do is find your own want for self preservation or the want to protect another. Perhaps though remember the soft touch of your mum. " Loki watched me for a moment probably trying to word his next sentence perfectly.
"Do you think of your mother?" I was still for a very long moment, not knowing how to respond. Loki blinked twice and that egged me to respond. I opened my mouth and then closed it again and then once more opened it.
"I've never met my biological mother," more like I had lost my memories of her. But at this point in time I suppose this was as true as it was going to get. Loki looked at me a blank expression with parted lips on his face. I turned my head the other way looking over the stream. Loki tightened his grip in my lap and rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. It had been the first time I had said anything about my background, about my family or where I came from. There at the very border of his mothers gardens, the both of us still so very young, I was barely one hundred years old and I could not remember anything before meeting Paradox. It had never settled well with me how I just happened to be with her, but I never discussed the fact with her.
I looked back and smiled at Loki as best I could. That had always been a strength of mine, to put on a mask. To hide and lie even with my own body.
"Don't lie to me." My smile faltered for a moment before becoming more of a small graceful tilt of my lips.
"I'm not, all I'm saying is that you need to put your state of mind into one more maternal or nurturing." he leaned over frowning into my face.
"That's not what I'm speaking of. " I could smell his winter mint breath flutter against my cheeks. Electric green and ice blue eyes.
"Loki I can't," I shook my head sadly. "it's-"
"To complicated? It's not that hard to tell me your name. " All I could do was stare at him sadly. I could have never done it back then so long ago. To have ever told him who I really was.
The Expelled blurred slightly and then vanished, the vision fading from around us until all we were left with was the vast emptiness of space.
But you still could, Death whispered into my ear bringing me out of the trance. I looked up to it. I'm sure that he knows who we are but he doesn't know that you were his friend back then. You still can tell him let him know that he isn't alone.
"I've upset him enough today," I crossed my arms and look out to the ant nebula. Death swirled and floated over into my field of vision, it’s head cocked to the side slightly.
You know that three days have passed since we left, return to him. My eyes drifted up to Deaths and suddenly I could feel all of the guilt weighing down on me.
“Fine,” I sighed out. Death grew a grin that could have split the universe in half, and we vanished from that dark place.
***
Loki was sitting in his mother’s garden when I found him and I mentally groaned to myself. He was reading a rather large tomb, one of herbs oddly enough. He must have come upon a spell that required something odd in nature and wanted to know more. I stood above him high in the tree he was leaning against watching over him.
I took a seat on the branch I had been standing on leaning my back against the trunk. We stayed like that for a long while, and my mind drifted to other things, things long since passed. I could tell that the summer would soon be over here, a green leaf it's edges so slightly turning yellow. The wind was also turning rather harsh it's whistling hands no longer holding a soft stroke of warmth but a harsh lap of bitter cold. I wondered if I'd ever see Samuel again, if I’d see my mother before the war. If all the things that had been seen by myself would come true. It was frightful, I could see all of this coming but there was another strand of fate just as thick and strong as the one full of distraction. I just had to be patient I had hope that Michael would change that he would come to understand.
"The name I was given when I was young was Mina," I said this out loud not to anyone in particular but just so that the world knew I accepted who I was.
I heard Loki shuffle from below me, his tombe falling closed with a thud.
"And I was the girl you use to play along with in your mother's garden long ago.” Loki was suddenly by her side, just floating there. I turned my head to look at him raising my hand and letting a small cut appear on it. The blood flowed up in a strange sort of reverse faucet sort of way. The blood twisted and turned until it was something completely else, a flower, but more specifically a spider lily blossom.
Loki looked down at it, contemplating quietly.
“It’s a peace offering,” I said looking at him with slight worry. Loki nodded his head and took the blossom from my hand.
“Turn around,” he murmured, I almost didn’t catch it. I swung my legs to the right so my back was facing him. I stiffened slightly when I felt his hands comb through my hair gently and then there was a slight stroke of magic and my hair was braided. I made to shift thinking he was done, but he made an impatient hissing noise that kept me in place. I felt his actual hand in my hair again and how it only fluttered there for a second. When he pulled back he whispered, “All right.”
I took my braid into my hand and patted it fondly. A long time ago, of a time not even belonging to me, of a dream long when, my hair would be braided like this.
“Thank you.”
We had such a long way to go. But I didn't want to think about it. About how complicated this all would be. A war was soon to come, a war that would be decided by me, and I was scared, horribly frightened. I leaned back farther into Loki’s embrace.
Loki placed himself beside me on the branch of the ash tree. It was silent as we watched the sky turn from warm hues, to the starry sky. It wasn't awkward silence but a welcomed one, each of us understanding the comfort of the other without having to use words.
We had such a long way to go. But I didn't want to think about it. About how complicated this all would be. A war was soon to come, a war that would be decided by me, and I was scared, horribly frightened. I leaned back farther into Loki’s embrace.
Though perhaps, as I sat here, it would be all right with a renewed friend by my side and the smell of spider lilies in the air.
They say that spider lilies are the trails of to lovers never destined to meet again. Though perhaps, today would be the day fate changed.
Notes: This was just for fun because I've been slightly obsessed with the Avengers movies lately. But I'm not apposed to actually throwing Norse mythology in my actual story line. Besides every religion is true right? :P
