I feel like I'm not updating this enough, but pulling this story out of my brain is somehow more difficult than in the past. It's already taken a whole different route than I originally anticipated, and seems to be changing once again. Hold on for the ride.

Malekith, Belinda discovered, could be quite talkative when she got him on the right subject. Clearly, he had been working on learning her language, although he still struggled with cultural quirks. Every few days, she would go out and build a bit more on the world she was reviving. Afterwards, he would escort her back to the room and settle into one of the empty lounges and ask her questions about Earth. None of the subjects were suspicious enough to cause her alarm, mainly he asked about the idiosyncrasies of Earth and its inhabitants. Today was no different.

Okay, today was a little different. Today, Malekith had ordered a kind of warm, spicy tea for them to drink while they talked. Belinda sipped at it as she leaned against the back of a lounge, her feet tucked underneath. She looked at Malekith with a smile that could almost be described as fond, watching as he worked out the conundrum in his head.

"You are saying," he drawled, "That humans will wear a special pair of clothing for sport?"

Shaking her head, Belinda took another sip of tea, "No, they wear the socks to sporting events."

"Because they believe their players will win?"

"Because they believe their players will win."

He stared at her, the sharp blonde brows coming together over his eyes. "Are their socks enchanted?"

Smile widening, Belinda shook her head. Malekith's expression grew more confused as he set his cup of tea down on the table between them. Bemused, Belinda watched him continue to attempt to work his way through the problem.

"That is…" he searched very hard for the word, coming up with "Stupid."

"Its human," Belinda countered, as if that was the answer to all his confusion.

Malekith's face smoothed, his countenance turning somber, "Human live such short lives. It is a wonder you concern yourself with such frivolous acts."

Belinda stiffened, "Maybe we enjoy frivolous things because we don't live that long. A short life doesn't leave room for days filled with grave solace."

He sighed, a longsuffering sound that she'd heard many times since they'd starting having regular conversations that were more than just glares and awkward silence, "I meant no offense."

"You offended," Belinda shot back, "Whether or not you meant to."

In typical Malekith fashion, he changed the subject neatly, "Does it bother you that you aren't like them anymore? That you never were?"

Belinda swallowed, her fingers tightening on the mug in her hands until her knuckles turned white, "I'm still human. I can be both human and Earth Mother."

Malekith stood and moved to sit next to her, pulling a small, transparent disk from a hidden pocket in his pants. With practiced fingers, he brought up a hologram of sorts, Elvish words flashing in the air. He tapped the disk and a figure of a tall, willowy female surged forth, bursts of power swirling around her in concentric circles.

"Your planet is not the only world with this myth, Belinda. The Earth Mother has many names. For my people, the literal translation is Child Bringer."

She smirked, "So, you've heard of me, too?"

He nodded, "The Elves reproduce in cycles, once every rotation of our planet around the sun, when we are furthest from the heat." He tapped the disk again, "The long sleep disrupted our cycle, and the planet's orbit is no longer as it was."

The hologram shifted to show a small planet orbiting a sun, which she assumed was Svartalfheim. The oblong orbit held for a few rotations, then spiraled inwards until it formed a more perfect circle.

"The heat prevents our females from bearing elflings. As the planet dies, so do my people."

She stared at the little orbiting planet, "And that's the crux of why you brought me here."

"Yes."

"You think that I am your Child Bringer, that if I can rebuild the planet, the orbit will right itself and your lady friends will want to reproduce?"

Malekith pocketed the disk, looking as uncomfortable as she'd ever seen him, "That is a succinct explanation."

Irritated and not a little bit anxious, Belinda asked, "How, exactly, do I fix the orbit of an entire planet, Malekith? Please tell me, because I would like to know."

He shifted so that he was facing her, on leg pulled up a big on the lounge, "All of the writings say that you will do so."

Eyes narrow, Belinda simply replied, "Show me."

As it happened, the Dark Elves kept a vast library of knowledge in what had to be some kind of technical wonder. Inside a small console, he could produce any number of texts, each with its own holographic video or picture that she could manipulate with her bare hands. She watched pieces of the Dark Elves' history in 3D, from the perspective of both an onlooker and first-person. Belinda spent hours combing through their archive, putting texts together on their Child Bringer, a motif that seemed to stretch back eons. The last identifiable Child Bringer had been hundreds of years before the 'long sleep', as Malekith sometimes called it.

There was no video, but the hologram brought up a picture of a short, dwarfish female, her small hands outstretched on either side. The name beneath the picture was something Belinda couldn't hope to pronounce, but the text had been transcribed to English rather well. The Child Bringer had cultivated the planet into the system of caves that now existed. They twisted and turned beneath the surface, liquid water flowing here and there, surfacing into warm pools and cool streams. The planet flourished until she died, struck down by…an Asgaardian.

Belinda leaned away from the text, finally understanding why they were at war with one another. The assassination, intended or not (there was little detail other than a planet-wide mourning and the wilting of their food and water sources), had caused an irreparable rift. She wondered if Malekith would use her to mend the fences, so to speak. Said elf had stepped out to speak with Algrim.

Belinda contemplated their growing relationship, the slow starts, the jagged steps backwards. Malekith seemed to be trying to be polite to her, but she struggled with the knowledge of the enormity of what he expected from her. The political leaders of the planet were showing up periodically, always speaking to him in hushed tones. He usually sent them off with a smile and what sounded like a carefully worded assurance, but her grasp of their language was tenuous at best. Try as she might, she struggled with the word formations, placement of her tongue, and sentence structure.

Tapping on the flat, rounded, screen in front of her, Belinda brought up more information, scanning through history that had little context for her, until she came upon a familiar face. Malekith looked back at her, his stern expression still on the screen. She swiped downward, finding the accompanying text. A great leader, politically and on the battlefield, experienced in spells and weapons… heretic?

Squinting at the screen, Belinda gathered that the, for lack of a better term, religion of the planet was deeply rooted in deadly soul magic. The Dark Elf equivalent of a priest would call upon the darkest forces they could summon in an attempt to keep the planet dark and, thus, ensure the continuation of their cycles. Malekith, sometime before the Long Sleep, had risen to lead the people away from utilizing soul magic, working with their best and brightest to assist families in producing offspring and protecting the planet from errant attacks.

Belinda leaned away rested her chin on her palm. The Elves were very preoccupied with sex, for some reason. To be fair, so were humans. She thought about how long she'd been there, and noticed that she had never seen anyone show any sign of affection. No handholding, no kissing, nothing. She'd only seen the elflings one time, and that was only for a few hours. She wondered just how different their reproductive cycles were if the priests were willing to resort to what amounted to sacrificing one of their own to produce the next generation.

Curious, she checked how long it took for the planet to orbit their sun. A century. A whole century on Earth had to pass before the Elves could have a baby. That would explain some of the preoccupation. Then, feeling just a bit more curious, she checked the lifespan of an elf. Millennia. The answer was millennia. The Dark Elves could live for thousands of years, if they weren't killed by a conquering army first. That…made things a little more interesting.

Belinda scanned a few more documents, guiltily swiping them away when Malekith returned. He escorted her out of the cavernous Room of History as she was now calling it and up a slow incline towards the mouth of the cave. She followed along, hands shoved into her pockets.

"You will have an audience today."

Belinda blinked up at him, "I have an audience every time."

He nodded, "This one will be bigger."

Malekith was not wrong. The audience was easily fifty elves, robed beautifully in what she might have called silk at home. She eyed them, glancing away when they met her gaze head on. Malekith led her out further away than he normally would have, far enough that they wouldn't have heard him when he leaned down to speak with her.

"The progress is being monitored and there are some who feel it is…"

She snorted, "Too slow?"

His uncomfortable expression answered her question as if he'd said the words.

"I'm world-building here," she muttered, glancing out into the vast plain between the mountain ranges. A short, mossy kind of grass had sprouted up, and she could see her little creation waving gently as a small tree. "That takes time."

Malekith made soft noise in the back of his throat, "Perhaps something with more." He stopped, looking for the adjective. She hoped he'd say 'pizzazz'. It would literally make her day to hear him say the word 'pizzazz'. When he lingered for a few moments too long thinking, she shook her head.

"I got it. Put on a show. I can do that. But," she held up a finger, "You're probably going to have to carry me back to my room. You're asking for fireworks and that's an energy drain."

Without another word, she trekked to her usual spot, in the middle of a slowly growing circle of alien vegetation. Absently, she greeted all of her little creations, running her finger along the thin trunk of her tree. Everything seemed to be as it should, nature taking its super-powered course.

Breathing deep, Belinda centered herself like Camilla had taught her, pushed away her doubts like Claire had directed, and reached as deep as she could to pull as much power as she could into her magical core. It swirled, excited, electric, and roaring. The more she drew up into herself, the stronger the rotation in her belly; until the whole thing moved her physically in a gentle sway.

The power, usually hot, grew to burn in her belly, seeming to draw from a new source. It blistered her from the inside out, shaking her nerves and cracking against her organs and spine. The force of the movement took on more momentum, until she was barely standing on her feet, lifted so that her toes were softly disturbing the dirt below.

Her open eyes watched as clouds formed above her and the once clear, green sky grew dark. Her ears filled with sound and she couldn't tell if it was thunder or her own blood rushing through her system. Mostly, she didn't care. The feeling of ecstasy was racing through her body, wrenching more power into her body at breakneck pace. It seemed as if she were drawing from a deep well filled with cool water that rushed up and into her body.

Lightning flashed across the sky, a pale blue streak against the increasingly deeper green atmosphere. She closed her eyes against it, feeling the wind whip at her hair as her power pushed her higher. Her skin vibrated against her muscle and bone, her limbs twitching, flexing, stretching. She breathed deep, tasting her own magic in the air, mixed with something sharper, deeper. It hit her senses like a punch to the gut, twisting inside her.

Her magic depleted quickly, and the storm calmed. It wasn't until her feet hit the ground that she realized she had been suspended more than ten feet in the air and that it had…snowed, kind of. Hail and snow surrounded her in a radius of about a hundred feet, crunching underneath her sneakers as she steadied herself. Belinda looked at it dumbly, her vision narrowed and fuzzy. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the heavy thrum of her heart. Despite how tired she was, the energy from her magic remained, and she flushed to feel a low simmer of arousal low in her belly.

Giving an inner shake, Belinda looked over her shoulder at her audience. They stood in silence, faces slack with a mixture of abject wonder, horrors, and shock. She smiled: Job well done. Shoving her hands in her pockets, Belinda started back towards them, carefully stepping around the melting hail. She'd used so much energy that her steps were terribly slow, shuffling, and weak. Her eyes remained on the ground, her vision blurring now and then. She'd barely made it to the edge of the circle of hail when hands gripped her above the elbows and tucked her into a tall, deceptively strong side.

Malekith helped her to the entrance, leading her past the group even as they eagerly asked questions that she didn't understand and definitely wouldn't be answering. They'd wanted a show, she'd given it. That was going to be the end of the story, if she had her way. It would help if she had a little more stamina, though. Her energy was seriously flagging. They'd only made it halfway back to her room and she was leaning almost fully on Malekith for support.

Eventually, he sighed roughly and shifted to swing her up and over his shoulder. She thought very briefly about struggling, but she was just too damn tired. The familiar flooring of her room floated into view, followed by a twist and the swaying vision of her ceiling. Belinda was lying rather peacefully in her bed, Malekith sitting next to her looking concerned.

"What do you need?"

"About a three day coma," she replied, eyes closing.

Alarmed, Malekith placed both hands on her shoulders and shook her rather sharply, "You need medical attention."

She laughed, "I'm joking. Just joking. I do need sleep."

He pulled back, hands falling to rest on his bent thigh, "I will see to you in the morning."

On his way out, he turned off the lights. Belinda didn't even hear the click of the door as it closed. She slept with difficulty, her power replenishing and disturbing her rest. It flowed into her body, her limbs tingling as if they'd been asleep. Despite her fatigue, Belinda could feel something about it was unfamiliar to her. Where her orchid colored magic usually ran with a gentle warmth, it now came in cool and rushing, like wind or flowing water. It wasn't unpleasant.

She was awake before Malekith arrived, though she hadn't moved from her spot on the bed. Blankets piled atop her, she snuggled deeper into the warmth, watching as he stepped confidently through. Though his hair was generally in a set of highly complicated braids, today it was in a simple one trailing down his back. It occurred to her that most of the elves had long hair—she hadn't seen one without hair at least down to the mid back. She wondered if it was some kind of rite of passage.

Malekith regarded her silently for long moments, gauging her awareness and health, no doubt. Though awake and aware, she didn't have the energy to sit up and try to begin a normal conversation.

"You are better?"

She nodded.

"Then, you must rise. I want to speak to you."

With a sigh that would have made her teenage self proud, Belinda stood and shuffled to the bathroom, grabbing clothing along the way. After making herself presentable, she exited the bathroom to find Malekith sitting in his customary lounge, waiting patiently. She sat across from him, hands in her lap, and lifted her brows.

"The power you showed yesterday. It was impressive. The elders are pleased."

She felt her chin tilt and her tongue move before she could stop it, "Oh, the elders are pleased. I'm so happy that I rose to the occasion."

He looked away, hissing a breath between his teeth. "Do you want to be sent back to your planet? To be hunted down?"

In the relative peace that had been her life on Svartalfheim, Belinda could almost forget that she had a cross-dimension bounty on her head. Hands clenching, Belinda tamped down her rising irritation, "Of course I don't. But, I don't like the idea that I'm being paraded around as a sideshow freak."

She watched him process her statement for a long moment, somehow finding the patience to pause in her rant so that he could keep up and understand.

"This isn't what I came here for," she continued. "I'm here to heal your planet—which, by the way, I'm doing a damn good job of."

He waved his hand, a clear dismissal, "Your performance is not in question."

"Then, what is in question?"

"Your necessity, and the source of your power."

Her jaw unhinged for a moment, "My fucking necessity? Did your people just recover from blindness? Did they not see the desert wasteland your planet was before I jumpstarted the fucking evolutionary process?"

He flinched, leaning away from her, "They saw. They see."

"What's the problem, then? Hmm?"

"They do not…acknowledge that this growth is your doing."

Belinda blinked, "That's bullshit, and you know it."
Malekith laughed, "I do." Then, "I find I am curious to see the source of your power. The Child Bringer is rare, and there is nothing in the texts that describe the extent of her power."

Ire cooling, Belinda raised her hands, palm up, "I don't know how to tell you about it. It's just a thing that lives inside me; it's a part of me."

Shoulders squaring, Malekith seemed to come to a decision, "Show me."

"Um, how?"

"The Elves have a…process? Take my hand, I will enter your mind, you will show me that way."

Belinda frowned, "Whoa, there. That's a little invasive, don't you think."

"It is a simple thing."

Eyeing him warily, Belinda weighed her trust in him against the unfamiliar concept of him entering her mind for any reason whatsoever. Eventually, she thought that she could force him out, if she wanted to. Or, at the very least, shock the ever loving hell out of him with a pulse of magic.

When she nodded, Malekith leaned forward, reaching out for her hands. After another moment of hesitation, Belinda slid her hands into his. His skin was cool and strangely textured. The palms were very slightly ribbed, dry, the knuckles more pronounced. Their hands fit together with little difficulty, her thin fingers threading through his. She noticed a slight tremor in his grip.

"Open your power. I will do the rest."

Staring at their entwined hands, Belinda concentrated and let her magic expand inside her body. Still weak from the previous day, she couldn't pull out her full power, but she found that it didn't matter. Malekith pushed in with easy grace, flooding her mind. It was as if she were standing at the top of a vast, craggy canyon and suddenly a rush of water flowed in, washing against the walls and rising ever higher. Her eyes closed, body rebelling against the invasion.

And yet, her magic seemed unaffected. Rather, it rushed forward, striving to meet Malekith on even ground. Colors flashed across the horizon, lightning sizzling. She recognized it as the same lightning that she'd produced the previous day. Even the air smelled the same. Belinda felt a sound come out of her mouth, a groan, possibly a scream. Her head pounded, overwhelmed by Malekith's power and the growing chaos in the atmosphere.

Suddenly, she was sitting in her room again, the walls spinning as Malekith held her steady. She didn't know when he'd moved, when he'd broken the connection to kneel beside her. His hands were on her shoulders, his icy blue eyes worried.

"I'm fine," Belinda said reflexively. "Sort of."

He held onto her shoulders, eerily silent. The moment extended as she caught her breath. A glance at Malekith's face told her that his concern had not abated. He looked downright nervous as he waited for her to speak again. Eventually, she took pity on him.

"You are clearly freaking out," she said, "Did something go wrong?"

He blinked at her, drawing in a slow breath, "No. It was not wrong."

The sentence seemed to be spoken more to himself than to her. He was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, taking in every detail of her face. The hands on her shoulders squeezed her reflexively. Tilting her chin down, she grasping his wrists.

"Seriously, are you ok?"

Coming to himself, Malekith gave a short nod and stood. Belinda frowned at his back, self conscious and confused.

"I will go," was all he said as he exited on swift feet.

Lip curling upwards, Belinda let out a "What the fuck?"

Still feeling tired, she took a nap, struggling to wake with the knocking at her door. As she crossed the room, the knocking became more insistent. Groggy, she opened the door to find an irate August standing on the other side.

"She lives," August stated as she pushed inside. Looking around, she pronounced, "Nice digs."

Belinda, stunned and still bleary, replied, "Has it been six months already?"

August turned on her heel and put her hand on her hip and Belinda noticed that she'd cut her hair, "Yes, it has. You obviously need a calendar."

Belinda scoffed, "Well, excuse me if Svartalfheim doesn't have Earth's calendar updates quite yet. We're a little behind out here."

A smile spread across August's face, her cheeks dimpling, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

Stepping forward, August enveloped her in a tight hug, "You look good. I half expected to come here to find you wasted away."

Belinda chuckled, pulling away and showing August to the set of lounges where they sat down. "I'm doing okay here."

"I can see that," August quipped, pulling her legs up underneath her. "So, what's the deal?"

Mouth quirking, Belinda shrugged one shoulder, "I'm jumpstarting life on their planet. Pretty simple deal."

"Are they treating you well?"

"Yes, fairly well."

August's eyes narrowed, "Fairly well?"

"They feed me, I get regular exercise, Malekith comes to speak with me from time to time. I can go where I choose, except…"

"Except…?"

Belinda glanced at the door and leaned towards August, relishing the feeling of being able to talk to someone about her thoughts without dismissal.

"There's this cave across the plain. I went there once, but got chase away. Like, a guard literally attacked me for going inside."

August tilted her head to the side, "Did you see what was going on inside?"

Nodding, Belinda continued, "There was a ritual of some kind. I didn't get a good look, but I snooped a little in the archives Malekith let me view. I think there's some kind of black magic going on in there. Um, the texts called it soul magic, I think."

August's face relaxed and stilled, utterly. She studied Belinda as if trying to discern the truth behind Belinda's words. Her soft features were hardened in a way that Belinda recognized from the many fights they'd been through together. She knew that August has gone through so much more than she, a prisoner before she'd reached adulthood, an outcast. With those experiences came knowledge that Belinda constantly tried to siphon off, absorbing everything. She knew that August was about to give her yet another layer of understanding for the world she'd just begun to experience.

"What did Camilla teach you about soul magic?" August asked lowly, her hands curling on her knees.

Belinda shook her head, "Nothing. We never… It never came up in our sessions."

"Wasn't likely to. Soul magic is advanced. And dark—usually." August leaned against the side of the lounge, one hand falling above her head, the other laying across her stomach. "I've only seen it once."

Intrigued and barely holding in her eagerness, Belinda prompted, "What happened?"

Eyes unfocused, August began to speak, the words coming slowly, but with confidence. "When I was incarcerated, there was a warlock or something, a man who worked with the ancient orders. He performed a ritual on one of the other prisoners. I've never heard such screamin'. They cut him open, flayed his skin from his muscle—they were so precise! When they'd taken all of it, they chanted for hours. I think the guy died within half an hour. And then it worked."

August stopped briefly, her eyes closing.

"His soul was so pretty. Like lightning bugs in a field right before dark. And they took it from him. Sealed it up in a bottle. I always wondered what they did with it."

Eyes opening, August looked down towards the end of the lounge at Belinda, her gaze steely, "We're going into those caves."

Belinda flinched, "Malekith said we aren't allowed."

"Malekith said we aren't allowed," August mimicked, sitting up. "Listen, if they're doin' soul magic in those caves, we need to know about it. Hell, you need to know, just sitting here. It's dangerous."

Rubbing one thumb over the nail of the other, Belinda hesitated, "I don't like the idea of invading their sacred rituals."

August threw her hands up, "Those rituals might involve human sacrifice. No, worse, soul sacrifice. What do you think happens to those souls? I'm betting they get burned up, like kindling, for some idiot to gain massive amounts of temporary power."

Mind turning to the planet's orbit and the passages she'd snuck about how the elder Elves had tried to manipulate their reproductive cycles, Belinda felt her mouth go dry. August noticed and touched her arm.

"Imagine your soul being obliterated. Completely. For some idiot to get what they want."

And that was how Belinda found herself tip toeing through the cave systems after dark with August, looking out for any passing Elves or guards. She knew that there were Elves standing watch at the entrance, but when she'd warned August about it, the woman had laughed and patted her shoulder, saying that they would handle it. Now, feet from the opening of the cave staring at the back of their heads, Belinda had her doubts.

Even in the dim light, she could see the smile on August's face, her eyes flashing in a way that, to anyone else, might signal growing insanity. For Belinda, it meant that August was about to do something violent. Only the years of friendship that they'd shared kept any unease at bay. August didn't like to kill people, she liked the misuse of her power even less. The guards were (relatively) safe.

Palm outstretched, August carefully pulled together her power, balling it up into a tiny, pulsing orb. Muscles flexing, she shot the orb at the guards. It hovered for a nanosecond before splitting in half and throwing both guards to the ground where they remained, unmoving.

"Like taking candy from a baby," August muttered, stepping out into the night.

Belinda stepped over the unconscious guards and waved August forward. By now, she knew the way out onto the vast grassy plain without having to really see. Her creations called out to her in greeting and she, being a good Earth Mother, gave them a little jolt of power in return. Every day, the vegetation grew, pouring out in wave after wave of life that was encroaching slowly on the mouth of the Elves' cave. She wondered what would grow next.

August paced along beside her, looking around in curiosity. "So, this was all you."

"Yep," Belinda replied, picking her way through the brush to the other side where the grass leveled off into desert.

"Pretty cool," August commented, which was about as much of a compliment as August ever really gave. Belinda took it was as high praise.

"We should probably approach from the side," Belinda commented, I think they guard this entrance, too. Wouldn't be good if they caught us trying to get in."

August side-eyed her, as if Belinda were addressing her as an amateur. "We got this."

Leaning down, August touched the earth, running her fingers through the sand before grasping a handful.

"Alright, just hold still. This'll hide us for a bit."

Dubious, Belinda balanced her weight and waited, watching as August held the sand in both hands, lighting with power. Then, carefully, she blew it into the sky. Enhanced by the magic, it swirled around them, fairly sparkling as it coated their skin. The scent of flowers engulfed Belinda and she recognized the spell for what it was… cloaking magic.

Unseen, they crept to the entrance—Belinda was right, it was being guarded. With similar tactics, August incapacitated the three guards and they stepped over them onto the rocky path. As best as she could, Belinda led August down to where she'd seen the ritual happening. The cave grew colder the deeper they went, and Belinda's sense of dread grew. Beside her, August was quiet and unusually focused.

"How deep do these caves go, do you think?"

Belinda lifted a shoulder, "I think they run all over the planet, but I'm not really sure."

Sounds echoed off the walls; words that Belinda could pick out here and there, the smell of incense burning. August crouched low, peering around a corner. They'd come to the room where the rituals were performed. And, it looked like they were in the middle of one. On the stone altar lay a body covered in a silvery cloth, breath fluttering over the nose and mouth. Behind it stood one of the elders that Belinda recognized as a particularly stern elf with his hair ornately braided atop his head.

"So, this is them." August's words were a statement, not a question. Belinda could feel the disgust rolling off her in waves. She wished that she knew enough about what they were doing to calm her.

Words rang out again, the body on the altar twisting beneath their weight. Belinda felt the magic like a fist to the chest. It hurt, the acrid taste turning her stomach. August pulled her further down the hall to a low outcrop where they settled in.

Smoke rose and fell, swirling with the force of the magic in the ritual. August sneered beside her, and Belinda wondered if she'd make a scene. But, the tiny woman remained still and silent. Before them, the ritual picked up pace, a kind of rage filling the words. The power kept hitting at her. Belinda's body began to shake as her own magic fought to protect her from the inside out. Her skin began to glow faintly. August reached out to take her arm, thin fingers wrapping around her bicep and squeezing in warning.

Inside, Belinda felt more than just the magic swirling around her. She felt righteous anger pummeling its way to the surface. It coiled and flexed, rising in tandem with the ritual's intensity, until she felt that she would pass out from the sheer force of her own emotion. Jagged bits of magic flung out from her fingers, sparking in the darkness. August glanced down at her hands and then to Belinda's face, looking as if she was making a decision.

The ritual swelled, and one of the priests removed a ceremonial dagger from a ornately decorated sheath. Belinda felt the air stick at the back of her throat, words of warning wanting to be spewed forth and shutting down amidst her shock. The dagger glinted in the low light, before it was plunged into the chest of the victim, dark blue colored blood shooting out with the force of the blow. Beside her, August stood up, tense and ready for a fight. Belinda swayed in her crouching position, trying to stand and feeling tears rush down her face.

It occurred to her that she had no idea why her emotions were so strong—she didn't know this elf from anyone else on the planet. This was, however, not the time for it. August reached down and hauled her up. They moved quickly back through the path to the mouth of the cave where rumbles and crashes of sound shook the ground. As they stepped out, Belinda realized that it had begun to rain.

In all her time since coming to Svartalfheim, she'd never seen even a drop of water. Now, a deluge had opened up, the sandy ground becoming sticky mud. August said something that she couldn't hear over the rain pounding at them and took off. Belinda, unthinking, followed her across the plain, through her little oasis, and to the opposite cave. They ran past the still unconscious guards and kept running until they reached her room.

August flung open the door and ushered her inside, slamming it behind her and leaning against the jamb. Belinda slowed to a stop in the middle of the room, next to Malekith's preferred chair. In the quiet, her body trembled. She was disgusted by what she'd seen. She was confused as to why it made her want to flee in haste. She wondered if Malekith knew. A sense of betrayal lashed at her.

Turning, Belinda looked to her friend, both of them soaking and tired. "I don't understand."

August shrugged, "I don't either."

"They killed him."

"Yes."

"They murdered him and took his soul."

"Yes."

Belinda plopped down on the edge of the lounge, her hands falling limply in her lap. "I hate this feeling."

"Me, too," August replied lowly, shoving from the door and coming to stand next to her. "Get changed into dry clothes. You'll need rest. We can talk about it in the morning."
Belinda looked up at August, "Why do I hate them so much?"

August stared down at her in silence, then took her hand and helped her to stand, "Let's talk about it in the morning. You just expended a lot of magic and energy. You need sleep."

Belinda quite know when she fell asleep, August sitting next to her reading a book she'd brought from home. The visions of the ritual played over and over in her head, and the fire of her anger lay simmering in exhaustion in her belly.