It was dark. No light shone down from the sky ever since the Hati and Sköll caught the sun and moon. He barely noticed at the time, his perception muddled from pain and blindness.
He had grown used to the darkness, which saved him from the mortal blow delivered by his once nephew in order to save his son. Still, Loptr was bleeding out, from a half completed bastardized bloody eagle.
It would be best to put pressure on the wound, staunch the flow of his red essence. He didn't want to die and in that respect, was a coward, but the jötunn refused to allow them to die.
Even as the darkness brightened from the raging flames of Surtr's sword. He pulled their shades from charred bodies, encasing them in his seaidr, holding them close as the Ash Tree burned and burned, the roaring flames drowning out the panicked cries of those that survived the battle.
Loptr was death to their wails and cries as they had been to his own.
In the end, only ashes remained.
~OoOoO~
Tsalmaveth expected a lot of things when he consented Gabriel. Mainly ceasing to have a sense of self, no matter the promise the celestial entity gave him, or remain smothered by darkness until deemed worthless.
Trust was a foreign thing to one who knew the pain of betrayal and bitter disappointment for as long as he had. As Loptr he cared to much, and ended up hurt and angry from the lies and betrayal.
As a Primordial he knew to much and was silenced after being hurt in the most painful way by the one he thought was trustworthy.
Chaos cared for nothing but the continuous cycle of pandemonium that was created by the pitiful souls that struggled futilely through life. and the less said about the horrors that the shell of his former self Loki went through the better
With everything that he had went through in all his avatars and incarnations, Tsalmaveth did not expect much of Gabriel. It was an angel after all, loyal to it's garrison, heaven, and Father however absent He was.
It didn't matter if it was an archangel and broke the pattern by running away. In fact it just proved that all creatures no matter how pure would seek power. Even a sentient one, a greater prize in their eyes, meant only to be brought to heel.
Gabriel didn't make the attempt. (he probably knew he would fail)
Tsalmaveth kept his mental faculties (not that they where anything to be proud of).
The archangel unbound his children, giving them their Freedom from the cycle (The archangel promised to do so, probably to gain his favor).
Peering through his many shadowy coils at the small yet powerful presence that due to a simple word had the potential to at the very least disturb the precarious balance between sanity and insanity that was such a struggle to maintain, Tsalmaveth became thoughtful.
The archangel did nothing at first, seeming to simply revel at such a perfectly fitting vessel a dark chaotic entity like himself was. Chaos did come in all shapes and sizes, why the archangel was surprised, Tsalmaveth credited to it's limited way of thinking.
Impressive for the usually rigid mindset of it's race, but not flexible enough for the primordial's liking. Given a couple centuries he was sure he could get Gavri'el into shape.