Strangers
He stalks in the shadows, dealing death in the name of balance and order. His blades are stained red, his conscience muted.
He is an Assassin of the Cross, the best of the best. No one he has targeted has ever seen his face. He is a shade, a wraith, an otherworldly being who walks in Asgard, the realm of the humans.
He doesn't know who he is.
Loki has only seen his face three times.
The first time, he found out what he looked like.
The second, he didn't recognize himself.
The third, he remembered what a mirror was and that he was looking at himself after half an hour of contemplation.
He strides fiercely in the sunlight, fiery strokes of a blade marking his path. Vision is wiped clean, and he holds guilt on his shoulder.
He is a Rune Knight, and the guardian of a princess, and a citizen of Fayon. He is an anomaly, a stranger, a wanderer who found shelter with a scarred king and a city weighted down with a horrible sin.
He doesn't know who he is.
Chaos tries and tries to remember where he came from, but he never can. He's tried everything; hypnosis, elixirs, blows to the head; it never works.
He sleeps deeply, haunted by images of a faceless past, and in the morning, he doesn't remember them at all.
A woman comes to Chaos and tells him he is a god. A dream tells him his name is Vermillion. A bearded man(god?demon?) tells him he is a Dragon Knight.
Chaos gets many answers, but he doesn't hear any of them.
A goddess says Loki isn't human. Assassins say he is a leader. A comrade calls him master.
Loki hears all his answers, but he doesn't understand a single one.
Identities lost, humanity wavering, the two fight side by side, strangers only to themselves.