Time was running out. My little adventure with Huginn and Muninn had offered no real solution on how to stop Beaumont and his magic sword.
One thing had become clear to me: there was something dark buried underneath the mountains. The Vikings had come all the way from England to make sure it wasn't awakened. It was important enough that someone sent talking ravens to warn me.
And Beaumont had been talking about waking gods. Gods that would reboot the world, throw the world into chaos.
Whatever lay underneath the mountains, I could not let Beaumont awaken it.
As far as I could see I had two choices: I could go to the Devore Mansion and get more information about what had happened in the mine and perhaps get some more details about what awaited me there, or I could go directly to the mine and try and stop Beaumont in the hope my newly awakened powers would be enough.
It could be of course that the widow of Devore knew nothing, and it would be another dead end. I'd be wasting my time again.
I looked at the map Red had given me. The mines were nearer, and I could feel the clock ticking. Off to the mine I went.
The entrance to the mine had been locked, but the lock was rusted through. There were hard helmets stored next to the entrance. I took one and put it on, both to protect me from falling rocks and because there was a little light on it which would probably come in handy.
I was right, the mine was dark inside. I turned the helmet light on. There were puddles and pools of Filth inside the mine, I tried to avoid them as much as possible. While I had a resistance to it, it could still hurt me, I soon learned the hard way as I slipped and fell right into a puddle.
The Filth wasn't the only danger in the mines. There were magical traps on the floor, large circles made from magic runes that hurt like hell when I stood on them, slowing me down to a crawl. The runes looked magical in nature, not Norse. Were they here from before, or had Beaumont made them? My money was on Beaumont.
Once I learned how to spot them they were easy enough to avoid.
The light on my helmet wasn't very strong, the small beam barely lighting what was ahead. I could almost feel the weight of the mountain pressing down on me. Occasionally I could hear the sound of falling rocks, reminding me that the mine had been partially caved in before.
Eventually, I found a small elevator. Whatever was buried here, was buried deep. I had no choice but to take the elevator further down.
The lower caves and tunnels were glowing with an eerie light, it seemed to come from the fungus growing on the walls. It did make it easier to see in the darkness. Suddenly I saw movement from the corner of my eye. There was someone in here with me, was it Beaumont? I readied myself just in time. Something black, tentacled and vaguely humanoid came lunging at me. I backpaddled, a stream of fireballs bursting from my fingertips. The creature was made out of pure Filth, I didn't want it to touch me. I stumbled over the corpse of a miner but my fire consumed the Filth creature just in time, and it died with a bloodcurdling scream.
I followed the tunnel deeper into the mine. There were a few more Filth creatures, I tried to avoid them as much as possible. Where they here because there was so much Filth bubbling up from below, or had Beaumont conjured them somehow?
The tunnel led me to the mouth of a cave. Roots and branches were growing around it, barring the entrance. The same warm golden light as the entrances to Agartha lit the area, and bees buzzed around it. I got the same feeling of belonging. I reached out my hand and the branches parted, letting me through into a large, dark cave. I stepped through.
A smooth dark shiny surface lay beneath my feet, whatever it was made of, it wasn't rock. I could feel power radiating from it. The cave wasn't glowing with the golden light, and when I looked behind me, the glow around the entrance had disappeared as well.
"Thanks for letting me in, I could not have done it without you. I really couldn't."
I looked back to the centre of the cave. Beaumont was standing in front of me, holding the sword. How had he gotten past me?
I had learned my lesson, the last time. Without hesitation, I threw a fireball at him. He easily parried it with the sword, right back at me. Dang, he was quick!
"Oh, please," he scoffed, "I've fought gods. You, however, are no god."
I scrambled back onto my feet.
"I hope you appreciate the twist, I spent quite some time orchestrating it."
I did not, since I still didn't see the twist. (Please tell me, dear reader, that at this point you have! If not, join the club.)
"I mean, it's what I'm known for, my long cons. They've written sagas about it! Maybe they'll write another one about this…"
Wait, what? No… it couldn't be, right? I started to suspect Frederic Beaumont might not be his real name.
"…but you know, probably not." He continued. Monologuing again, it seemed to be his thing.
"Your kind is always looking for villains. So much easier to have someone, something, to fight rather than to face reality. I was a convenient villain, because I questioned their authority, questioned the very foundation of our society. They banished me because they feared me. They feared what I could become, an end to their rule, a new beginning."
Every time I so much as began to gather my anima he raised his sword at me. I had to stop him somehow, but I had to be either faster or smarter than he was. And I had very little confidence I was either. I was outmatched.
However, as long as he kept talking, the world was still standing and I might get the opening I needed.
"But they made a terrible mistake by sending me away. Here, I found all I need. And I am ready to be myself again. No more hiding, no more disguises."
His eyes glowed green, as he began to change. He grew taller, towering over me, at least 6'4" tall. His hair grew longer, his cheekbones more pronounced. His skin became flawless alabaster, his shoulders were broad, and his waist narrow. The drab hippy tunic was replaced by black and green leather, accentuated with golden-hued metal engraved with serpents. A voluminous cape hung down from his shoulders, almost reaching the floor.
Slowly green magic crept up, forming a horned golden helmet with large curved horns on his head.
Sword still in hand, he smiled and bowed mockingly.
I stared at him, my eyes wide. I'd seen the movies, I knew exactly what he was supposed to look like. No, not what he was supposed to look like, I knew exactly what he was, who he was. He was a god. Loki. God of Mischief.
I was seriously, seriously outranked.
"This, my dear girl, is a Gaia engine," even Loki's voice had changed, deep, arrogant and with a flawless British accent. "Lovely, isn't it?"
He knelt down on one knee, his long, slender hand caressing the surface.
"The gods themselves would like to get their hands on one of these pretty things. They keep the world turning, quite literally." His eyes were upon me, cold, icy and blue.
"But, they also do other things. You'll see what I mean."
I once again gathered my anima, but Loki aimed the sword threateningly at me as he stood up. He didn't need to kill me permanently, all he had to do was make sure I'd be dead long enough for him to finish what he had started. After that, I supposed it wouldn't matter anymore. I could not let that happen, but I also couldn't see what I could do to stop him without him killing me.
'Thor now would be a really good time,' I thought to myself.
But no god came to my rescue, it was just me. Me and Loki.
Without warning, Loki lifted the sword and thrust it into the surface underneath us. He had moved so fast, that I didn't even realise what he was doing until it was too late. The sword glowed golden, and black tendrils began to rise from the cracks in the ground.
"And Yggdrasill shudders and groans," Loki growled as he strained to drive the sword a bit deeper into the engine beneath us. His blue eyes looked up, a triumphant look on his face. "Here we go, AllFather! The final destiny of the gods! By my hand! On my terms! Not yours!"
Black tendrils of Filth surrounded me and crawled over my skin, hurting me, poisoning me, as I writhed in pain. I screamed, as my world went black and I lost conscience.