Son of No One
The cloaked figure ran past the guards that watched the passage to the bifrost. Lungs on fire-legs straining to go just a little bit faster-
I will not be captured today-I will not be going to any prison…
Those thoughts were like the wood to fire.
I will be free…I will be free…I will be free…
The figure, willow-like but not extravagantly tall, flitted across the bridge-it would be only mere moments before they realised that the winter-casket, as the Mistress called it, was missing. Not long before the heavy enchantment woven into the threads of the pitch-black cloak that enveloped the figure would wear off and its inhibitor exposed to the eyes of Hemidall and of the All-Father.
Hemidall stood at the entrance, tall, proud and blindingly golden. His eyes seemed to penetrate the very being of one, yet the figure remained shrouded. The figure, wraith like, made it to the inside of the Bifrost chamber.
I only have to make it to Muspelheim, and I shall be free…I will be free…Mistress will release me. She promised.
In a small instant, like the batting of an eye, and in a long while, like the drawing of a breath, Hemidall turned and faced the figure.
"Show me your face, young one." Terrified fingers clutched around the winter-casket, "I cannot see you but I can hear your mind-I can feel your fear. Show your face, and your end shall be swift and merciful."
Hemidall's voice rang against the spherical walls of the Bifrost. The figure, slowly with one hand lowered the hood of the pitch black cloak, and Hemidall's severe golden eyes fell upon Sigyn's less severe but still golden, barely brave gaze.
"I know you, Sigyn."
"You know about me but you don't know me, Guardian." His gaze weighed her down and planted her to the ground, "There is no way to stop me. All I have to do is touch the winter-cube to the pedestal in front of me and I will be gone." Her voice shook, but only slightly.
"Rest assured little girl, that there is no crevice too deep, no shadow too intense that will save you from me. Cease now, and end your own suffering."
Without thinking, just with the promptness of impulse she dropped the cube to the ground in front of her.
Much to her rising terror, the cube rattled away from the pedestal where Hemidall's sword should be inserted.
In a small instant, like the batting of an eye, and in a long while, like the drawing of a breath, Hemidall let out a great shout that shook the walls. Sigyn clapped her hands to her ears and sealed her eyes shut, only when she opened them again did she realise what unfolded in front of her.
The great Hemidall lay strewn across the floor, his golden-clad hand mere inches from the cube-Sigyn, with fear still running through her like a wild river, remained rooted to the ground.
The Cube-as if it possessed life of its own, shot back to the pedestal in the centre of the room, and hovered above ground to the height of a man. Sigyn felt the earth shaking beneath her-it must have been the All-Father's guards…but soon all that was drowned out but the sheer intensity of the light that outshone any fire, any sun that Sigyn had ever seen.
She felt the nothingness, but everything all at once. She felt and overbearing numbness, and yet it felt as if every single inch of her being was being torn apart.
Loki sensed the change before it occurred-it was like a buzz in the frozen air that was his constant companion through the years. He set out from his underground fortress to the frozen wasteland above. A great burst of light imploded close by, in the sky-the energy released from it shattered the ice around him and shook the very ground on which he stood, knocking him flat on his back and threatening to bury him deep into the ground.
Now Loki, because curiosity was within his nature, as soon as he was able to stand made his way to the spot where the light had touched the ground beneath. Something extraordinary had to come from such and event, certain as the ice that surrounded him.
Sigyn felt pain. She thought, momentarily that such terrible pain would surely be etched in her soul for eternal. And everything around her was so cold-the kind of cold that robbed her of her breath and crushed her insides…but that might have been also the devastating result of the bifrost-voyage.
The nauseating pain was everywhere at once. She wanted to sleep so badly, yet Sigyn's determined eyes sought out the casket-sure as Hela of death it would stand out against the whiteness that-
Whiteness…Muspelheim isn't white…Muspelheim is red and darkness…
She felt ill for a whole new reason now. She had failed her mistress and was now sentenced to life in this frozen wasteland.
As she lay, Sigyn was able to bury her face in what she now realised was snow, coloured not red from her blood.
Perhaps not all is lost then…but movement, when she attempted it, burned as a thousand fires.
Sigyn, tired, closed her eyes.
Loki hurried to the location knowing that such an event would attract much attention, for such a blast would have been visible for leagues and leagues afar.
He was somewhat disappointed when he reached the crater that had been formed-he saw little if interest, until his eyes landed on a black-black shrouded figure, and not very far away a golden one,
Now Loki, because curiosity was in his nature, and because he was sure that the two that lay on the ground where either dead or-he smiled to the nothingness at the pun-out cold, made his way towards them landing first next to the golden one.
He gave a start and almost fled there and then when he realised that it was none other than Hemidall the great guardian, still alive but barely…judging how there was pallor behind the darkness of his skin, but then was filled with glee.
Think of what you can gain from this…Loki of Joutunheim, frost giant…rescuer of Hemidall…
A whimper snapped him out of his zealous musings. He realised it came from the other, smaller creature that was covered beneath a great black cloak.
He investigated, slowly approaching the broken thing lest it should pounce at him in its pain driven euphoria.
Still slowly he turned the creature-a girl, he realised, to face the sky. Judging by how small and frail she seemed the blast and the cold should have killed her. Her skin must have been a healthy honeyed brown was now pale and clammy.
Her golden eyes snapped open and looked right at him, startling not little life out of him.
"Mistress…I knew you'd come for me Mistress…I knew…" her words came out short and panting.
"I am not your mistress, broken creature." At those words she began to sob chokingly. Loki hated tears-they were weak, and unavailing.
A casket, he noted, lay shattered a small distance away from where he stood over the crying girl.
He picked it up, and with a clap of his hand he had the tree of them transported to his underground dwelling.
He took them both despite his better judgement because he knew that something sinister was afoot.
I have been out of commission for awhile. Anyhowz, I don't really know why I'm posting this or where I'm going with it, but please, enjoy.
Also, might be M in later chapters.