Author's Note: (Sob!) I must declare all of Ragnarok not mine! Sigh... but anyways, thanks all for the great reviews. I'm going to get Sara out of the cave next chapter, so any suggestions about what should happen with her or Deliyyja and Century would be greatly appreciated. I loved seeing all the new stories out there. Let's just try to get some new people in the mix with some fresh ideas now, and the Ragnarok section will get even better! Thanks again everyone, and enjoy!
Chapter 13: Undone
Back at the castle, Deliyyja went straight to her suite of rooms. Inside she found Century still cleaning. She smiled. He's not a maid. He's supposed to be my bodyguard – I guess you could say he fulfilled that position with Sara, but still.
"Century, are you quite done yet?" Deliyyja's smile grew larger as Century jumped at her words.
"M– mistress! You're back already!" Century twisted his hands together nervously. He still wasn't quite able to believe that Deliyyja had forgiven him his lack of action with Freya and his impulsive actions with Vættfang.
"Yes, I am, Century," Deliyyja said gently. The poor man has been beating himself up over so many things lately that were beyond his control. "I told you earlier that if you told me what happened between yourself and Mistress Irine, that I would tell you of my dream, correct?"
"Y– yes, Mistress." Where was she going with this?
"The Norns came to me in my dream. They brought me the answer to a question that to me is worth my life. Their answer was, of course, cryptic, but after talking to Vættfang, I am reasonably sure as to how to make the answer a reality."
"What question did you need answered, Mistress? And how could it be worth so much to you?"
"The answer to both of your questions lies with what Freya did to me. You were not there, but as she was strangling me with magik, she was also placing a spell on me. The spell keeps me to this area of Jotunheim I believe. If I try to leave before the spell is lifted – which I must – I will suffer until I die. And when I say suffer, I mean in the most excruciating ways." Century gasped and moved forward as if to block such a thing from happening.
"You said you knew how to fix– remove the spell?" Century asked hopefully.
"I need to visit the Mystic to find out how to awaken an old friend. He is the only one who can help me find the counter-spell. Hellsteeth, he might know the counter-spell!" Deliyyja went to Century and gave him a quick hug and then looked at him.
"You will help me, right? I have a feeling that this will need your strength." Century reddened briefly, then nodded.
"Of course, Msitress. I will help you in any way I can."
"Thank you, Century. Now go change; we leave for the Mystic's house in an hour. Bring a weapon or two with you." Century bowed and left the room. Deliyyja went to her bedroom and opened her closet. She retrieved another set of purple leather and stripped out of her ruined ones. Standing in her underwear, Deliyyja took her knives out of their holders. Thank the gods they aren't ruined. It's so hard to find quality knives for myself these days. They always disintegrate when I try and put any magik in them. She put the knives on the bedside table and sat down to pull on the other set of clothes. The new set of clothes were a little tight on Deliyyja and she grunted as she jerked on the pants until they were all the way on. The top was less of a problem because all Deliyyja had to do was put the looseams together and draw a line of lightning between them.
"Ugh… I should make my pants like this. It's so much easier to put on." She put the knives in their respective places and drew a lightning-covered hand over her outfit, charging it and causing it to glow slightly. Once she'd finished, she staggered slightly.
"Owww…" she put her hand to her head as a slight headache began. She sat down on her bed and rocked back and forth slightly, willing the headache away. She did this for several minutes before she felt well enough to take her hand from her head. The minute she did, however, the headache returned.
"Mistress, which weapon should– what's wrong?" Century had entered and stopped his sentence when he saw Deliyyja with her hand on her forehead.
"I'm fine. Just a small headache, that's all. It's almost gone now." She grimaced as the pain flared for an instant before receding. She held up her other hand before Century could move forward.
"Ahh… finally." She paused and smiled. "Ready to go?"
"Um… which weapon should I bring?" He held up a longsword in one hand and a short, double-sided spear in the other. Deliyyja considered the two before speaking.
"Bring the spear. You're faster with that one. I'll give you some knives also." She turned back to her closet to get the knives and heard Century gasp. She turned back to him only after getting the knives.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Your braid." He pointed at her head and her hand went to her hair and felt that one of her braids was coming undone.
"That's what she did," Deliyyja whispered. "It wasn't to keep me in Jotunheim, it was a slow death for disobedience. She knows it'll kill me eventually if I can't find the spells to rebraid my hair."
"Find? What do you mean, find, Mistress?" Deliyyja didn't answer him for a minute as she was busy seeing how far the braiding had come undone. She sighed and walked into her bathroom.
"Freya told me that the spells the mages used to braid my hair are passed down from master to apprentice; there's no written record." Deliyyja spoke as she rifled through a drawer in the vanity, searching for something.
"Aha!" She held up a tiny wisp of thread she'd pulled from the drawer. She turned to Century and gave him the thread.
"Attack the thread, please," she said, ignoring the look of disbelief he gave her in response. She waved her hand at him when he remained silent, staring at her. He finally sighed, set the thread down on the floor and moved away. Century threw a minor spell at the thread and when it hit, the spell caused the thread to lengthen. He stopped and stared between the thread and Deliyyja. She motioned for him to continue and woodenly, he threw the same spell at the ever-lengthening thread until finally, Deliyyja told him to stop. The thread now covered a large part of the floor between them.
"Thank you, Century," she said as she bent and picked up the end of the string. Laying it at the point where her braid was coming undone, she whispered a spell so low that Century couldn't hear. The string began to wrap itself around the remaining hair, leaving none showing, until it reached about an inch at the end; the same length left as the other braids. It tied itself off within the spell, showing no actual beginning or end to the whole length. Looking at the binding, Century could see the shapes that formed wards for binding and protections, while still leaving her hair able to conduct electricity. Mixed in with those symbols was Century's own. He frowned at that.
"Mistress, I am confused. My symbol should not be present on this; it should be yours." He pointed to it as he spoke and Deliyyja brought the half-done braid around to her eyes. Looking at the symbols, she grinned.
"It's okay, Century. It'll work itself out. And if we can't do it, the Mystic'll help us. But we're running late. Let's go." She dropped the braid and walked off, Century gawking after her.
"Okay! What do you mean, 'okay' ? My magik isn't binding magik! Mistress! C'mon… what aren't you telling me about what you saw?" Century took off running after Deliyyja, wringing his hands anxiously as he ran, all the while pleading with her. Deliyyja just smiled to herself and continued walking.
"Hurry up Century, or I'll have to leave you here!" Deliyyja smirked at the reaction as Century's pace increased behind her, finally bringing him up to her. When he reached her, he grasped her arm, gasping for breath, ignoring the slight shocks that her outfit was giving him.
"Mistress Deliyyja... you are very, very mean!" Deliyyja's smirk died at Century's words.
"Century! How many times must I tell you? Do not call me that!"
"Yes, Mistress Deliyyja..." and Century took off running again, with Deliyyja chasing him, all the while yelling threats after his retreating back as he laughed at her.