Grani's hooves thunder across the bridge, every rattle of bone sending shivers through me as I feel the overbearing presence of Mordgud at my back. Her strength seems to be seeping into me, giving me the resolve not to breakdown completely in such an uncertain time. I hold tighter to the pommel of the saddle as I near the end of the bridge and see a horrendous construct before me; it is a tower, blacker still than the ground it rises from. The tower looks to have actually sprouted from the rock, the walls sloping down into the cracked rock that surrounds it. The cracks that permeate the ground climb up throughout the walls, sometimes splitting wide enough to create windows. The top of the tower tapers into a jagged point. At the base is a large opening that leads inside, roughly hewn from the stone; only blackness lies within. I can't see anything beyond the tower at all; the mist is too thick. Mordgud pulls her steed to a stop a few meters from the front entrance to the tower and dismounts swiftly. She offers her hand up to me as I look around in confusion; this can't be the entirety of Niflheim, can it? That fog seems almost magical in nature; I can sense it somehow... It's as if my skin is about to catch fire but is chilled to the bone at the same time.
As I'm lost in thought she pulls me from the horse roughly, holding me under my arms as you would a child. She's bores holes in my head with the stare she gives me, as if she's trying to place every crease of my face, find every facet of myself and recognise it for what it is... It's not entirely comfortable and I pull on a sneer of defiance after spending mere moments feeling vulnerable... Can she see inside my head? Feel what I'm feeling now? I surely hope not; nobody is supposed to know how I feel, I've always kept it that way and it shall remain that way for as long as I can help it.
After another few moments her brow furrows in apparent uncertainty and she puts me down gently; good thing too, I didn't want to have to make her put me down... It might not have ended well for either of us. With my feet on solid ground again I feel a little safer than on the bridge, but not too much; this piece of land is still hovering within a black plane of space... Like when I let go for the first time...
As I absent-mindedly look out into space, staring past the brute that is Mordgud, I become pained when I realise that this is technically not even the first time I've died, or at least presumably died... But I never came here the first time - I can't even remember how, but I awoke in Thanos' presence after what felt like an eternal sleep, and my mind was crashing in on itself with all of what had happened... It was so easy for him to mould me into what he wanted, I was so impressionable... Now I realise, after truly dying, that everything I've done was not truly what I had wanted; only my meagre attempts to feel alive and important again in a world where I'm always second best, my endeavours ignored and my feelings disregarded or not even recognised... I was so confused and enraged at being cast out so easily when I was already the "barbarian" in their midst, I didn't know what to do or even who to be anymore... I distanced everyone from me to appear stronger; but solitude is weakness, I went unsupported and fell yet again because of my own fragility...
I hadn't noticed but I'm now standing closer to the edge than before, having shuffled over in my haze... I wonder what would happen if I just, fell off...? Best not to dwell on such thoughts; she brandished a sword at me so pain must be real here too. I turn about, casually saunter over to Grani with a genuine smile on my face and reach my hand out to pat her neck in gratitude; she is a fine horse indeed, perhaps I'll be lucky to have one of her children someday as my own steed. She shakes her head and whinnies in approval before I turn to Mordgud and find her at the entrance to the tower. At the entrance she takes out her seemingly plain broadsword again and raises it high above her head before cleaving it down through the entrance of the door; the darkness splits open like fabric and dissipates into nothing moments later. Before I can glimpse the inside of the tower Mordgud turns to me and gestures her hand for me to come forward. Hesitantly, I comply go forward on guard for whatever might be inside...
As Mordgud moves aside and motions for me to go in I'm awestruck at the place; my mouth actually falls open. Inside could be likened to the Baroque architecture and artistry of Midgard, with gold and ivory columns, glass and crystal ornaments and statues depicting great people from all the realms. I can recognise Odin as one of them, and Freya of Vanaheim as another with her brother, Freyr, next to her. There is no statue of Thor or myself; perhaps we've done nothing worthy to be placed among them. As I set foot into the tower in my entranced state I look down in shock at the perfectly cut white marble floor; all one piece.
"What is this place Mordgud; such a decadent place doesn't seem like it would be to your taste", I sneer at her; she's a woman of "simple" tastes obviously, almost akin to brutish.
"This is only one room Loki of Asgard; this place is a mirror of space and time, lending from all corners and eras of the universe. The rooms change every time you look away, but certain things remain the same; such as the statues, window openings and doors." She says this while pointing at them and making me notice a door I'd never seen before; it's the same black as the tower and nearly 20 feet high – it looks so out of place in a room like this!
"Is that where we're going? Through that towering door? And why must I journey to Helheim; am I not supposed to be there already?" I almost spit at her - I'm losing my patience with this already; it seems like some epic quest that Thor would jump at, but I'm too clever for that. Why do all that travelling and work when you can get someone else to do it for you?
"Be at ease, Loki of Asgard – all will be explained in due time. First I will give you a night's rest in one of my chambers and explain all to you come morning." With this she heads up a staircase to the left of the main entrance that I hadn't noticed as my back was to it. I follow her up the stairs, unsure of what to expect; it spirals up around the round room to a medieval mahogany door positioned directly above the blackened door I'd noticed moments before. She slips a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocks the door with the biggest and oldest looking one on the bunch, leading me into a narrow corridor that is dimly lit by algae glowing on the dark, stone walls. The corridor only goes on for about 10 or 15 feet, but there are 5 doors of all shapes and designs on each side of me, and another at the end. Mordgud takes me to the third door on the left; it is made of a lustrous metal, possibly chrome? And is made of riveted panels. But it still has an old, rusty lock where a handle would be, which Mordgud fills with the right key from her bunch and slides it open even though there is physically nowhere in the wall for the door to go... She enters the room herself and I follow her in;
"I apologise for the room; this is always the bedroom, but it's not always of a comfortable era in time or space. I hope that this will suffice for one night." With that she leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
The room is sparsely fitted and everything is chrome; even the bed. There is a mattress alright, with comfortable bedding, but no window either – just metal walls... There is an overhead light and lights at either side of the bed built into the wall. I look for a way to turn the lights off and quickly find a toggle on the wall next to the door that does the trick; but I'm not left in complete darkness...
My inside pocket emits a dull glow, and I remember the warmth from earlier on; what could it be? I quickly turn the light back on and slip my hand inside my pocket only to pull out a lock of hair the colour of spun gold. My brow furrows as I try to think why this would be here or who would put it here... And an urge I can't resist fills me; I slowly bring it up to my face, close my eyes gently and smell it. It smells of warmth if that's at all possible; not like the smell of a fire, but a smell that something warm would give off, the smell of heat emanating from... Freshly warmed linen, hot water in a bath, bodies huddling together for heat... It's a smell I cannot place, but I know it somehow. It's seems sweeter than before... I inhale again, deeper this time, just for the pleasure of smelling it, and I feel it against my lips; it's so soft... I bring it softly across my cheek and revel in it... I slowly open my eyes again and bring it up to look at it; whoever left this with me will be mine. I will find out who they are and I will make them mine somehow – I need to have this! This elation, this intense euphoria – it makes the dullness go away, the pain is forgotten and it's all that I can sense... In an intoxicated stupor I toggle the switch off again and traipse over in the general direction of the bed, still feeling enchanted by the sweet smelling locks. I collapse onto the bed in one motion and just lay there, one leg dangling haphazardly off the bed with the small gift in my hand still, and I drift off to sleep... And I dream...