Chapter 30.
When he came to his senses, he lain on the study's rug, his head pounding heavily.
"What has happened?" he croaked.
"Something I didn't foresee, and for that I apologize," he heard her voice near him.
She helped him into a sitting position.
"What in Hel was that?" he repeated.
"I cannot say," she confessed. "I didn't expect it to be able to affect you. Did it get near you?"
"It almost trapped me," Loki wiped off the sweat from his brow. He balled his hand on a fist when he realised it was shaking, and slammed it down on the rug in frustration. "I resisted, but barely," he turned his gaze to her. "You told me it would be safe for me."
"I thought it would be safe," she assured him. "I won't risk your well-being ever again, I promise."
"Will my protections fail?"
She shook her head.
"Once it had made contact, the barriers would have acted. What worries me is that it tried to convince you to lower them and almost succeeded. It still doesn't have enough power on its own to breach the boundaries between..." she trailed off. "Do you know the difference between a universe and a dimension?"
He said he did, but for the sake of discussion, he asked her to pretend he didn't, just to compare her explanation with what he had been taught.
It was vastly different. His tutors had told him that a dimension was another universe with its own physical laws, and that travelling from one to another, while costly in terms of energy, was still possible.
"Each choice we make creates a new universe: each movement, each word, choosing to turn right instead of left... All those alternate universes are infinitesimally different from each other, but the further the actions differ from a given point, the further away that universe will be and the more different said universe will be from the starting point. This creates an infinite number of them. While the entity we in Kamar-Taj have been fending off comes from another dimension from our universe, the energy I sensed..." she paused.
"Wasn't from our universe?"
"It came from a very distant one, if that's possible. You see, all our universes are stacked against each other, yet they are separated by an eternal void where time doesn't exist. Travelling between them is not only nigh impossible, but also dangerous. There is a barrier that protects each and every one of our universes, if anyone were to travel between them, the transfer of matter and energy would create a small hole in that protection. Should the travelling continues, both barriers would debilitate, to the point of making both universes collapse, crushing all the others between them."
"Marvelous..." Loki rubbed his temples in frustration. "Simply marvelous."
Then a thought occurred to him.
"The way you explained, it makes one envision the universes as if they were spheres."
"At a given point in time, yes."
"But since a choice can change it, and time keeps advancing..."
"It's not a sphere," she smiled. "The geometrical equivalent would be a cylinder, but what would describe it better would be a tunnel. Now imagine all those tunnels, running along each other, with others doing the same above, below and in every other direction in space."
He nodded, but the notion of the infinite was always bewildering to him.
"And when we sleep, our consciences can get closer to that barrier," he said.
That didn't explain the nightmare he kept having since his magic rush happened.
"But, as every science," she kept explaining. "I'm afraid there are still things yet to be understood or explained. Have you ever dreamed about yourself in another scenario? One so outlandish it doesn't seem possible in this universe?"
Loki's eyes widened.
"So that part of magic theory is accurate? My nightmares are what they seem!"
She nodded.
"Have you observed if their occurrence are dependant on your emotional state?"
"Why is that important?"
"My mind is in a constant state of equilibrium. Yours, however, is free and boundless. Even though you hide your true colors most of the time, your internal turmoil is still there, especially now. I destroyed that dimensional pocket because that entity went for you, despite me being slightly weaker."
"What?"
She smiled.
"You were considered a god on Earth for a reason. The primary goal of that creature is to take hold of you, but it would have been easier for it to do it through my body, yet it ignored me. That my own protections are stronger than yours is the only explanation I can offer."
Loki took some time to process that information.
"You can't really expect me to drop everything and retire to a lonely mountain to meditate. We are at war."
"No. But it's always wise to consider all the available options. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has pointed out your need for a respite."
He was about to protest, but then he remembered JARVIS' diagnosis.
"I know time is on the essence, but resting your mind and soul is as important as resting your body, for a broken mind is more difficult to heal."
xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx
Following the advice of the Ancient One, Loki used his time at Kamar-Taj to grow in strength, but also to rest and recover his spirits.
In between lessons with the Ancient One he used his time to go through their library, discovering with dismay that half of it consisted on magic theory texts he had already known by heart since he was a child. Only the masters' section offered him some new knowledge. But it wasn't until he started perusing the Ancient One's private collection, that he started having a deeper insight into the differences between Midgard and Asgard's knowledge of magic. When he brought up it up to the Ancient One, she gave him one very simple explanation.
"The theories you have been taught, through valid in practice, are not on principle. Imagine that I explained someone how an infection occurs and progresses, but instead of teaching about pathogens and white cells, I started talking about curses. The Allfather has been keeping that knowledge for himself, not out of egoism, but out of caution."
"That makes no sense," he scoffed.
"He has a very pessimistic view of the Universe. He firmly believes that no one will ever be able to stay away from their darkest urges, so his solution is to hide the truth. I am of the opinion that, given enough wisdom and guidance, most will be able to stay in the right path."
"That's why I have access to your entire library?"
"Everyone has. But a novice would merely stare at the texts, not knowing what they mean. Knowledge is not forbidden here, remember that, just certain practices."
Indeed, by reading certain books, Loki learned that there was a way to manipulate time itself, the name of dark entities that would pose a threat to Midgard, and that there were magicians from Midgard's ancient times who were foolish enough to make a pact with those creatures. Those stories, as he guessed, hadn't been erased to serve as cautionary tales for those who would come later.
As for him, he would never be as stupid as to approach any of those creatures. If there was something he prized over everything else was his freedom. Power he could acquire himself, no need to end up being a slave for eternity.
The first spell the Ancient One chose to teach him was the portal. The principle was so simple he felt like smacking himself for not even thinking it could be done in the first place, outside the Odinforce or the jump technology of spaceships, and he didn't need the help of a focus ring, like the other students.
"I thought you might find my first lesson quite useful when you wish to pay a visit to your acquaintances," she commented, a knowing smile playing in her lips.
He didn't answer.
"I supposed you would want to travel to certain places in search of information," she continued, unfazed. "Of course I will never ask you about your findings, because you would only rely to me whatever you see fit, but I ask of you, as a reciprocal favor, that you tell me anything that I might want to know to strengthen our defenses. Isn't that a reasonable request?"
"Plans within plans?" Loki asked, quite amused at the woman's ingenuity.
"One does not live this long without learning to foresee certain things without the aid of magic. It's all I ask, as a courtesy."
Loki didn't agree out of the good of his heart, but because she had a valid point. And, while the rules of hospitality were universal, a guest also had some obligations towards the host.
However, there were other places he wanted to visit first.
A small village in Italy, for example. He looked up the location beforehand, in case it didn't exist anymore but, to his relief, it still did.
The portal manifested with a greenish glow instead of golden sparks, like it did when the Ancient One used the spell. When he stepped through it he was greeted by a silent church. It was very late at night, or very early in the morning in Italy, giving him enough time until they opened the temple for the day's first rites and visits. Nevertheless, a few electric lights were lit, making easier to find what he was looking for.
Fiora's tomb was clean and well kept, still under the altarpiece of that side chapel she favored so much when they visited her hometown. He walked over the rope serving as a barrier, conjuring a small orb of light which floated above him.
There it was, the white marble tombstone, exactly as he remembered it. Carved in large lettering it could be read, written in Latin: "Fiora Bronzino. Beloved wife and devout mother."
Below was another name, one Loki thought he had forgotten. Both Fiora Bronzino and Vincenzo Rinaldi had passed away the same year, 1534.
Loki had never liked to prolong things any longer than necessary.
His hand caressed her name; the pain he had felt when she went away had subsided with time, but the memories didn't. It was a strange thing, to be able to remember someone no one else in the Universe could.
He had wandered into Midgard after a long-drawn war he and Thor had been dragged into, outside Yggdrasil. The things they had seen there kept haunting them, and each one dealt with it in their own way. Loki sought solace and a few years of respite; he said he was going to another place, but he descended in secret to Midgard and lived there as a mortal. There he made his fortune in no time, and in even less time he made his reputation as a respectable gentleman. The atmosphere in Florence during those years was later described as "tumultuous" by Midgardian historians, something Loki would laugh at. The petty squabbles, wars, poisonings and backstabbing was nothing compared to what he had seen in his lifetime. To him, the Republic of Florence was an oasis of peace; besides, he met Fiora there.
Loki hadn't planned what would happen there. He always had a fallback plan and this time it wasn't different. Feigning a death was child's play, especially when dealing with Midgardians.
Each sunrise he reminded himself about the viability of his alternate plan, and each sunset he would think to himself: "Let's wait one more day". He had still things to do, scenarios to explore and parties to go to.
"One more day."
One night during springtime he asked Fiora for a dance at the Medici's Palace, where all the rich and the influential people had been invited for one of their feasts.
"One more day."
The following winter he asked Fiora's father for her hand, not a year after having first danced with her.
"One more day."
His firstborn cried in his arms: the first breath of life. They named him Alessandro, and later in life he would show his mother's golden curly hair, blue eyes and temperament, while resembling his father in build, intelligence and cunning.
"One more day."
Five more children were born throughout the years, healthy, strong and clever. He was curious to see how they would grow up.
"One more day."
His daughters were courted by many young men he had to carefully weed out. It was a fun task, though his daughters didn't find it as amusing.
"One more day."
Until there were no more days left. There was no warning, no signs. Fiora was still healthy and beautiful to his eyes, but she kept telling him that her strength waned, that she felt diminished. Many doctors saw her, all saying the same thing, that her only ailment was old age.
Helplessness overwhelmed him. She sensed his distress and tried to ease it, telling him that all their children were already married and with comfortable positions, that she could go in peace; but she didn't understand, could never understand.
Her mind wasn't prepared for the possibilities he could offer her.
If only she could have accepted the truth.
And so he ran out of days. He commissioned a white marble tomb for her while he prepared for his own parting. Not long after they buried Fiora, the servants found a body at his home: an old widower who had gone to sleep one night never to wake. Loki lingered, always in disguise, out of curiosity. His children mourned him as they had their mother. They dressed their father in his best attire, as if he were attending a party, with his best doublet, his sword at his side and his favourite cane at the other, and his signet ring on his finger. His daughters combed his silver hair and kissed his wrinkled forehead, saying: "Farewell, dear Father, you go now with Mother, who loved you well."
They buried the couple together. He hadn't said anything about that, but his daughters saw fit that their parents would spend eternity together.
Then they went back to their homes, but not before having a reunion at Alessandro's house. What Loki thought would be a bloodbath over the inheritance (he had left them quite the fortune divided unevenly on purpose), was a simple conversation about the partitions their father had done. His eldest daughter, Isabella, argued that they weren't fair for, even when she had been bequeathed a considerable sum, the youngest of them had almost nothing. They couldn't help it for, as the notary pointed out, a will cannot be changed once the individual had passed away.
Alessandro stood up.
"Given that it wouldn't be wise to force the Law's hand in this matter, I say we all accept Father's will as it is. Once the assets are legally ours we are entitled to do as we see fit. Let's write a new partition in this very room, given that we have already bothered our dear Notary, that he won't have to travel more times than he wishes to these lands. I hope this arrangement can satisfy everyone here, yes?"
If there was ever a time when Loki felt bewildered, disappointed and proud at the same time, it was when he witnessed that scene. In the end, the brothers took possession of the properties, the sisters received an equivalent amount in jewels and money, and everyone was happy with the deal.
He remembered Fiora behaving in exactly the same way when she was alive. Not being entirely familiar with the customs of the place, and very much wishing for his own freedom, he let the entire task of raising and educating their children to her. Loki suspected that so many kids would be an overwhelming task for a soft-hearted woman like her, and she would fail in the end.
Not only did Fiora go above and beyond her duties as a mother, but she also managed to correct certain tendencies that some of the children had shown from a tender age that she deeply disliked. But Loki was sure that when the paternal influence was gone, each would return to their own nature.
He was proved wrong, as he watched his children, now adults with families of their own, do exactly as their mother had taught them so many years ago.
Loki abandoned Florence in secret, and in secret he returned to Asgard, telling no one of what he had done.
Now even their grandchildren had turned to dust, and he hoped that, whatever genetic information he had passed down to them, it had diluted through the centuries until nothing remained.
With a flourish of his hand, he made a bouquet of daisies appear in his arms. Those were Fiora's favourites, always insisting on picking a few whenever they traveled through the countryside.
Love was a transactional thing, that much he had learned through is life. He had always thought the actions of his children had been guided by superstition and fear of being punished for not honoring their father, that it was a mere accident of fate.
When he met Jane and her friends, he had to face the same question and obtained the same bewildering answer. Their actions taught him the same lesson, but he dismissed it again as a mere coincidence.
As his hand rested on the cold, marble stone, he pondered about his beliefs. During his imprisonment he had plenty of time to devise strategies, to mull over his own bitterness, and to think about the past. He started coming to terms with many things he had pushed aside, but it wasn't until he saw the tombstone again, that he realized what the truth was.
Remembering his Florentine, he thanked Fiora for the decades of happiness he had known at her side, that only now he had learned to acknowledge.
"I hope you can forgive me, my golden flower," he said, the dialect returning to him more and more with each word he uttered. "But I'll have you know, that while I never told you the truth, I never lied either. This I only know now."
The main door's bolts clanked and echoed through the church, startling him. Someone came early to prepare the temple for the first rites of the day. Making a motion with his hand, he created a portal to Kamar-Taj and stepped through it, leaving the white, marble tomb behind him forever.