Thank to everyone who has read, faved, and followed! And thank you also to my reviewer! :) Sorry this has taken so long to update. I'd like to say that I will update every week, but realistically, that won't be the case. I tend to write on the fly and proof read later. Anywayz...

DISCLAIMER: I only own the mitsakes.

The first nights in the forests of Southwestern Siberia are unforgiving. I had vainly assumed that it would be relatively easy. Just like the camping we did as children. I must keep telling myself that this is not a terrible mistake, and keep myself from running back home, to my mother, and my sister, and the FIRE. Gods, I've never been so cold in my entire life. Bone- deep cold. I might have given up, I might have just given it all up then, but I think that this was a test. That first night, it was nearing dawn, and I could feel Him again. His anger, His sorrow, every single emotion of His was coursing through my body. Perhaps His self control lapsed, or perhaps it was bound with His magics. I know not, but there were so many feelings flooding over me. I could see into some of His thoughts as well, and oh, how He hates it there. But where is there? I can see things as He sees them if I concentrate very hard. I have not been able to do this For a very long time, and only very occasionally, but I find it becoming much easier. I can see how much they hate Him. All but the other Asgardian. Thor? Did He say Thor? The golden prince of Asgard? What is this?

After a week's hard travel I find myself within about a three-day hike's distance of Moscow. Perfect. I smile to myself, it will only be a matter of time, and I can catch up on everything I've missed. It's been a long time since I'd come to any of the cities, and there was no electricity at home. I would be needing to check on the news for that last year, particularly New York.

Deciding that my last night away from any substantial civilization required meditation. I sat down my make- shift lean- to and pulled own my box. Some people I had heard of and even stumbled across would say that this little box is silly and even child's play, but I try to focus on practicality. Who says it is not possible to do magic without sparkly candles, cheap resin figurines, appalling incense, and summoning a sacred circle? What nonsense. Did any of them ever stop to think that all witchcraft came from somewhere? The older the better, as far as I'm concerned. It all boils down to blood and iron anyway. Besides, if you summon up a protective circle, something WILL show up to see why it is there. Best not to bother with the trivialities. I find that the only actual magical tools I need are very simple. No one looking through my things will say to themselves "This is a witch," which is something that has paid off before.

It is a small tin, a bit larger than a set of playing cards, and a bit taller as well. Inside it are two small beeswax candles, a piece of raw quartz, an old, rusty nail, a needle, a bit of twine with an ancient key on one end, a clump of sage tied together and burnt at one end, a copper penny, a small muslin charm bag, a few matches, and the stone I held when I vowed myself to Loki. All simple things. Perhaps I'll expand them when I get home, if I ever do make it home. I might even get a real scrying bowl. As it stands I've been using my father's old army mess kit that he left behind. My pocketknife is my blade, and my mug is my chalice. Simple, non suspicious. Well, down to business.

I pull my knife own, and I set it down. I strike the match and light my candles. All my magical tools are laid in front of me. This is the only night of the dark moon that I will be able to do this uninterrupted. I take the key and start swinging it in lazy clockwize motions around the flames:

"Here's the circle, open wide,

Here's the key to get inside,

Earth be iron, Flame be fair,

Fall from Water, into Air."

Immediately the trees around me blur, and my body takes root to the ground, while my eyes flash, and my mind it taken to His. Arguing again, I see. Who are they? That redhead looks dangerous, and angry. The dark- haired man is trying desperately to keep calm, and beside him- Oh my Gods, is that Tony Stark? Iron Man? Oh, Loki, where are you? I hope you are safe, I can't imagine what the government in America would do to you if they were the ones to take you in. Thor, hard to miss with His large oafishness.

What was that? Chuckling?Everyone is so angry, who could be laughi-

Why I am, child.

...My Lord Loki?... omgomgomgomg

But whom else? Did you make a habit of hearing strange voices in your head?

...N-No, my Lord... My Lord, what will you have me do? I am yours to command, I'm not sure if you recall my family-

Do you think I could not see it? Would you imply that I am so simple as to not hear the supplication of my only believer?

Only? How can I be the only one? You must have hundreds of followers my Lord! I know my sister and mother are among them!

Ah, my child, there are many who believe that I exist, but of them, only you perform rites in my name. There are a feeble few who think to call upon my name in the night, but only you have earned any right to do so.

Thank you, my Lord... My Lord- may I ask a question of you? I'm afraid I can't keep this bond for much longer, and I would beg an answer of you.

Very well child. What is your question?

Where are you? I am compelled to find you. I have your magic bound to me, but I have to get to you.

Of course you have my magic, that is your purpose. As for where, I am in a place the Midgardians call 'New York.' Manhattan, I believe. If you look for the tower that looks build by ego alone, you shall find me.

So that really is Tony Stark, then?

Find me.

With a sudden lurch, I fall off my metaphysical merry-go-round. I lean to my side and heave everything I've eaten. My gods, that was real. I SPOKE to Him! Manhattan. How am I supposed to get to Manhattan? And if he is being kept by the Avengers, how can I restore His magic? How do I even restore His magic? Why are they so angry with Him? That was fresh anger, there is much going on there, and I need to get there as quickly as I can. I wonder how Blaer is doing. Gods I want to go home.

Stop worrying about home.

!Will I be able to hear you all the time now?

Think of me as your conscience. Now that I know exactly who my supplicant is, I can hone in on your voice.

But how? I have your magics, my Lord.

This is an innate magic that cannot be bound. This is a communication between souls. To take it away would destroy us both. Fortunately, there is not a being powerful enough to remove us from existence in that way.

That's good. Will you be listening in on all my thoughts now?

Do not be ridiculous. I have better ways to spend my time than to listen to your every thought. In due time, you will learn to feel when I am there.

My apologies my Lord, I did not mean to presume.

Worry not, rest now, and then find me child.

Of course my Lord.

A weight lifted out of my head, and I knew that I was alone again. Now I must get to Western Europe and find a way to get to Manhattan.

A/N: Okay, I'm a little less happy with this chappy, but I'm working on another one which will be uploaded tonight or tomorrow afternoon.