I listened to Hans Zimmer's Aurora when writing this chapter. I recommend it, but you don't have to look for it. You can find it on youtube.

Chapter Two

Loki

Somewhere in the trenches of the universe is a planet where stars are guarded by a cumulous of mountainous clouds. A bolt of lightning parts the blackness. It is a vortex spiraling and colliding with the realm called Nastrond.

A yellow and green horizon expands into the nothingness that is left after Odin's slaughter of the planet many, many years ago. The land of the Dark Elves came to Loki's mind at the sight around him and sound of silence, but he knew what morbid atrocities have been birthed here and were coiled with such madness that twists the spine of any man who set foot here again.

If the legion of Asgard knew their true king, the guards which accompanied Loki to Nastrond would abandon him here as his fitting home. He couldn't believe they still thought so low of him… but it was likely.

Loki sneered at the sight of Nastrond. There was a method to every endeavor and mockery he made, but Loki is also a few things more: Fear. Power. Wit. The people of Nastrond were nothing. No intelligence. No intimidation. No real use. And Odin slaughtered them for their crimes as a species. Loki tried to warn him that such abrasive action might cause Asgard to lose what treasures the people might withhold. But in the process of doing so he was ignored. Loki took that to heart and kept that knowledge safe until this very moment.

The entrance to the cave sat inside a lonely collection of boulders some leagues ahead. It wasn't big enough to be a hill… but it was created so lamely that Loki almost pitied the treasure that sat deep within. The little monument had a steeple that towered high enough for pebbles to balance at its peak. It could be seen clearly, for beyond stood no mountain range or hill top could distract the eye. Loki could feel a chill over his skin under the mask of his father's appearance. It was a battlefield worn from use and littered with skeletons of all sorts of creatures. And all around, enclosing them and the monument, was a deep trench.

Something had drawn them to this spot. Landing here was not Hiemdall's doing.

It was Loki's, actually. But he would take pleasure in keeping every secret to himself.

"My King," a legionnaire, fully armored in all gold, had spoken, "Is this not exactly the location we were meant to find?"

"Indeed it is," Loki, with the broken voice of an old man, agreed, "Someone derailed Heimdall's aim."

"Not so, my King!" the man protested, "Not a soul is left on Nastrond."

"How did we get here?" another legionnaire asked.

"I do not know," Loki, as Odin, lied.

"It was I!" a voice bellowed deeper and more ancient than Odin. The guards looked up, spears pointing all around.

Oh, typical… Loki sighed inside. As Odin, he stood still and pointed Gungnir in the direction of the sound of clanking footsteps. A creature had formed before him wearing the armor of a dead soldier, but it was half skeleton and half flesh as it reformed over its bones. The look was distasteful but Loki knocked it aside without much effort. Other creatures formed that resembled warhorses. Other creatures were bigger, bulky, and loud. Blood of the dead was dripping over the battlefield as Loki and the six men with him fought for their lives.

"Necromancy!" one man shouted over the turmoil.

Loki swung Gungnir, sending a swarm of zombies falling back.

"Fefnir!" Loki shouted, "I recognize your magic, fool! Approach me in combat and die!"

"You're too rash, Odin!" Fefnir sneered, "You think you can face me? You can't even find me!"

Loki took up Gungnir and slammed the bottom of the staff into the ground. A wave of smoke rippled across the landscape and exposed in thousands of green pores that lit the pathways of Fefnir's magic. It emanated not from the mound but from an invisible dome that softly hummed with a green tinge. Striking Gungnir on the ground, the dome shattered into a thousand glass shards.

Loki approached. Fefnir frantically worked to keep him away. Zombies and creatures were flung in his direction almost to the point where Loki was sure he was just throwing bits of flesh compiled from the memories of those who are dead. Loki kept them all at bay.

"Odin," Fefnir hissed between his teeth. He was blind and frail. The ancient sorcerer couldn't stand straight without wobbling, and had tripped backward onto his hide when Loki invaded his space. The black beard Loki remembered ages ago had turned white. Fefnir still wore his armor, which stunk to high heaven.

"Fefnir," Loki smiled, "You kingdomless abomination, how did you survive my cleansing?"

"Your words are too rash!" Fefnir cried, "Too rash! Too rash! You are death, Odin! Death!"

"Silence!" Loki barked, "You're a fool, and you're attempts at scaring my men has failed. I have no time for your wails! Tell me where it is!"

Fefnir looked up helplessly. "What?"

"There is a legend," Loki assured him, "In this legend is a treasure. Hand-carved by Past, Present, and Future from the tree of life itself is a great a terrible treasure you had found cast into your possession by the sky. You knew of its terror. You had wielded your prize. And you knew the passing of your people and did nothing." The last word roared inside a whisper within Fefnir's head and the ancient king began to cry.

"It is true?" Loki had Gungnir hanging at Fefnir's throat.

Fefnir nodded.

"Take me to its resting place," Loki commanded, "Blind or not, I know you will lead me right to it."

They had come to the foot of the mound. Fefnir stood at the doorway.

"Below is a catacomb," he said, looking at the stone before him, "A catacomb of my people. A kingdom in ruin. And further is… her. She is magnificent and blinds everyone who tries to find her. Be warned, Odin, because, once below, your guardian of the Bifrost will have no sight of his king."

"Hiemdall is not your concern," Loki reminded him, "Your life is. And I will spare it if you take me to what I seek. Disobey, and I will kill you… and find it myself desecrating every grave I see."

Fefnir pushed open the heavy, grinding doors with great effort. Loki and his legion let him do so for every next chamber as they descended. Each door to another staircase held the makings of a coffin, and it took ages to get to each one. Without Fefnir, Loki would be in a maze of skulls and ritual artifacts that held no meaning to him. He understood they worshiped some demon they mistook for an angel. It lived in Muspelhiem and Loki was unfamiliar with how these people encountered it.

"Here." Fefnir said stepping in front of a threshold that was far too low and seemed to sit between two unbearably tall marble sarcophagi. It seemed as though it were insignificant. Loki wouldn't have thought a treasure would reside there, but these catacomb was not a resting place for merely the dead… Itself was a casket of hidden items. He would need to return one day.

Loki could feel the air within the crust of the planet condense around him. He felt buried and his every breath became thick. Torchlight lit up as Fefnir entered with a flick of his wrist. Fefnir's hair lit up like snow. The chamber was round and below their feet was a pattern echoing the artifacts of Fefnir's people.

As they strolled, the feeling of burial enveloped his body from head to toe. It was like treading water and his feet was caught in mud. Then it occurred to him…

"Ah," Loki mused. The others followed his gaze to the floor. "It is below."

As Loki got to one knee and brushed the center symbol with his finger. The embroidery resembled twisted twine and thorns. Feeling a heartbeat quickening under his graze, Loki pressed his hands around the symbol, pushed the tips of his fingers gently into the marble, and pulled a lever that was folded into the floor. There was a thud and directly in front of them and the floor rose. A ten meter tall cylinder capsule rose and turned and exposed a crystal figure of a woman. She had every bit of realism in her features. She was pure crystal, and she wore an object that was clearly unaffected by her element. It was a crown hazed in gold with three prongs.

Loki smirked. It was so simple… like what Thor and he wore as children to mark their heritage.

Fefnir began to cough and choke. The men put their spears on him and Loki's brow arched. Fefnir dropped the flask he had whisked from his sleeve. He chugged all the potion Loki had prepared for him.

"What's wrong with you?" a man of the legion asked.

"Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all!" Fefnir suddenly struggled for breath and fell to his knees, "But- I –I would run! All-powerful Odin… I would run for your forsaken life!" He struggled again for breath until his face slid to the floor.

A shimmering haze of green flickered over Loki until his true appearance came through. He wore his black and leather armor trimmed with green. A golden collar ovaled over his chest. In addition, a green cloak resembling a royal cape sat over his shoulders. His helmet sat on his head glistening in gold.

The God of Choas turned to face the squadron and Fefnir. The six men gapped, crying his name, and one tried to escape to warn Heimdall… but Loki sealed the tiny marble doors.

Fefnir's eyes widened. "Loki!" he coughed, "L-Loki! You liar! You s-s-said you'd bring me him! You said! You-" he stumbled about while choking and pointing at Loki, "Liar! LIAR! You were to watch from AFAR! AFAR! As I KILLED ODIN! As a beetle to see the… resting… place… of… the… crown!" He suddenly stood straight, his eyes glowing white and illuminating the room. His arms and legs were spread wide and he shook violently.

"Why would I do that?" Loki wondered aloud, "You would fail… and I would not have my prize…" His eyes flickered to the six men who had their spears pointed at Loki. They huddled together in the corner of the room. Raising his hand behind him, Loki gestured once with two fingers at the capsule… and the crown vanished under a green flare.

Fefnir began to blister and swell. From his body sprung bulbous tendons. His neck ached a dark purple red. His veins pulsed and strained. His face grimaced with his teeth forming into sharp rocks.

As Fefnir twitched and made a fuss, multiple apparitions of Loki appeared by the soldiers and struck them down. They put up an honorable fight, but he would not remember their names. He sliced one's throat and opened the threshold. Turning on his heel, he ran through.

"I will kill you!" came a gargling shriek.

Loki spun around briefly to bellow his reply. "THEN COME GET ME, DRAGON!"

A bright blue river of fire poured from the premature dragon's mouth as Loki ran. Passing by the sarcophagus, a green haze passed over him as he became Odin once more. He ran through the tomb and came to the surface just as the ground began to collapse. Dust followed him as a beaten and bloody king shouted to the sky, "Hiem-"

The ground shook him off his feet as the dragon's head emerged from the caves. Its wings broke free from the ground, emerging from either side of the trench that surrounded the battlefield. It spit fire across the grounds. Loki dodged as the Bifrost's bridge came down and caused it to miss.

The dragon Fefnir, black as the night with eyes of green without iris, came lamely stumbling after the God of Chaos. Loki sprang to his feet when the zombies accumulated around him. Flesh forming and daring to glue to his skin with such anticipation to slaughter him.

The tail of the beast whisked through the airs and collided into Loki. A flash of green and white sprang from his side and sent the crown spinning through the air and landing over the horn of a creature that began to stand. Loki punched a zombie off of his arm and kicked another until he could spring to his feet. The creature that wore the crown stood up. Flesh tried to gather around its bones. The creature was similar to an elephant of Midgard. The horns were tusks. And moldy, dried out patches of hair formed around a bulbous head. Loki looked up at the monster as it ran towards him. His hands tightened around Gungnir.

Taking a step back, he whipped Gungnir over his head and sliced the legs of the elephant. It fell head first and the crown swept off its tusk with the impact. Without thinking, Loki reached for the crown and grabbed it before it rolled by. His hand burned and in his sight he beheld a sight. A monster more grand than any dragon. Its skin was red. Its eyes were yellow. Its teeth and nails were the size of Loki… and in its hand was a sword of pure gold. It rose it high and swung it down towards the baffled god.

Loki dropped the crown. The vision vanished. Gaping at what he had seen, he felt warm from the place he had just been. Goosebumps rolled over his skin. A dense pressure was pushing on his shoulders. His hand was burning. The hand that gripped the crown was burnt.

The earth beneath him shook. For a moment… he had gone deaf… but knew Fefnir was coming. Turning to look for the crown, he could not find it. He searched with his eyes low until he met the crown in the hands of the crystal maiden. He looked up. Her frame rippled as though she were under water… her hair flowing gently behind her. With a grin, she leaned her head to the side until her entire body leaned to the side and she accumulated into the crown. The artifact vibrated and shot into the sky.

"NO!" Loki reached for it. Before the jaws of the dragon clasped over him, Heimdall summoned him back to Asgard. Loki, as Odin, fell through on the other side. Heimdall released his sword and marched down the platform. Getting to his knees, he held out his hands to help Odin to his feet.

"My King," he said. But Loki slammed Gungnir to the ground, cracking the floor of the Bifrost room, and screamed in outrage.

"I nearly had it! The crown! The Heirloom of Volla! And it is GONE!"