(LOKI)

I covered my face, but my arms were weak shields against the surrounding inferno. It boiled me from within, burning to the bone, leaving me little more than a walking skeleton that would soon become dust. My own screams dominated everything, until eventually, even they were drowned by the roaring flames in all directions.

Time meant nothing. Every agonizing second might as well have been a year. Was this truly what Odin wished for me? Did he even know this would be the consequence of leaving me on the cliffside with the creature?

And what about Thor—my supposed brother—who did nothing to stop such a fate?

He appeared in my vision, beyond the licks of fire. His red cape flowed behind him in the heat, showing off his indestructible might. He showed no fear. When he tossed Mjolnir above him again and again, he teased an ability to extinguish the blaze with a single strike.

I reached for him, unable to speak, sinking further into a river of lava. He represented my only salvation.

Yet he did nothing. Thor turned away from me. He wasn't my brother. I did not exist.

Even worse than the physical devastation of my body was this—total annihilation of all hope. My chest emptied. All scraps of care in my life were lost. Mother's voice, which taunted me on the cliffside, still echoed in the background how I'd failed in my quest to prove my worth.

When tenderness was sapped away, vengeance remained.

Sigyn yelled in a frantic timbre that frightened me. "Gods, make it stop. Loki, please wake up!"

I startled, gasping in a breath. My eyes were still shut, but light didn't bleed in the way it did when I lost consciousness. The blindfold remained in place. The fires were gone, replaced only by the nagging soreness all over my body and the worsening sting on my face.

She panted, relaxing her tone cautiously. "Can you hear me now?"

"I...what happened?" I licked my lips, registering a sticky syrup that had an aftertaste of salt. A peculiar choice of medicine.

"It's been horrible," she said, sighing heavily. "I've been trying to wake you for at least three hours. You screamed so loud, I thought you'd attract an animal for sure."

"Screaming in my sleep?" My head pounded, but I had enough strength to sit up. "I apologize, Sigyn—"

"No, none of that. Here, before you lose your strength again."

I opened my eyes to darkness. Deep night. Lights in the forest around us were ominous, but not from people—insects, surely, which glowed bright pink even behind the fabric over my eyes.

Sigyn, who was most hidden by the shadow of the tree, held her hands out toward me. "Go on. They're safe to eat. I fetched more water for us, too."

I nodded, taking her gift with shaking hands before biting into it. Sure enough, its flavor matched that which was already on my tongue. A bit too sweet for my personal taste, but what could I say against it? She passed me water when I finished three of the strange fruits and I greedily took every drop.

"Perhaps you can tell me more about this place—if it's not too much for you," she said, keeping her distance as if her mere presence would harm me. "Is there something else I can do to make you feel better?"

I wanted her near, but what good would that do? My actions already ruined her life and filled me with utter shame. All the terrorizing insults from my dreams resurfaced with her innocent inquiries and the wish to see me well again. What could I offer that would free me from the debt of my conscience?

Sigyn's patience wore thin. "Loki, are you still with me?"

"Yes," I said, shaking my head to try and stay in the moment, though even doing that brought grief to the rest of me.

"You said the people here aren't unlike the Aesir. In what way?"

Guilt sank further and further into my soul. "They're strong, not just physically, but in their resilience. Long lives and memories. All the more reason it was tragic how Frigga perished so young."

"Still haven't seen anyone since we arrived here, though. How big is this place?"

I shrugged. "I was only a child when I last came here, but it's large enough that sorcerers of Vanaheim are notorious for their ability to warn allies across the world of incoming adversaries—communication across distance using only the mind, as if they weren't separate at all. Mother was an expert at it and visited me in the dungeons when Odin forbade her to see me otherwise."

"Fascinating," Sigyn whispered, genuinely in awe by all she couldn't comprehend. "Is that something you could do now to find help?"

"No. It requires a welcome. No one would know I'm trying to reach them."

"I suppose not." She stood and stretched her back, standing with the several moons behind her. The splendor of her silhouette was no less arresting in my condition. "This terrain is so unfamiliar. Does the realm end suddenly, as Asgard does?"

"It's more like Midgard, actually. Much smaller, but round." I bit into another one of the fruits at my side, reviving by the moment.

"Is there a central point we should aim for?"

I hummed, tossing the bare pit away before standing. "The Don City. Center of all commerce, government, and magic. There is no one ruler here—no royalty to act as a single mind over the masses. Instead, two senators represent the interests of all, guided by a council of elders. Mother was a senatress when she married Odin, which is why it settled disputes between our realms."

"Right. The Don City." She sighed and folded her arms, staring out over the dark field. "If only we knew which way."

"Forward is the best direction when one has too many options." I draped my cape over my bad shoulder and nodded at Sigyn. My improvement was likely a short-lived tease and would diminish quickly, leaving us precious hours before I would falter.

Into the night we ventured. Sigyn's trust, even now, didn't waver, but I couldn't bear to give her tenderness or even say her sweet nickname. I wasn't worthy of her in any way. Since my plans for greatness ultimately failed, I vowed instead to find safety for her—after which, the serpent's curse could consume me as intended.