The Embers under the Great Tree

VII

A boat ride, by all accounts, should have been a tame experience.

But it wasn't, and there was good reason for that.

Ophelia was desperately trying hard to calm herself down, but it was impossible to do so with the sword of Damocles casting a long shadow over her head. Over all of their heads and some of them didn't even seem to realise it.

For the first time during this trip, she found herself envious of Schmidt and his naivety regarding tense situations. Before it had just been a mild irritant to her and a sense of confusion, but now he seemed blissfully unaware of the danger they were all in and continued doing whatever it was that came to mind. It was something she would love to live within for at least a couple of minutes.

But it was not to be.

Her visible eye swiveled towards the direction of the proverbial sword of Damocles.

Or perhaps it would have been more fitting to call it a thermo-nuclear bomb of Damocles.

Lugh had kept himself silent for the most part since the voyage started, offering no words and simply standing by the railings of the ship, golden cape fluttering in the wind. He did not turn or speak with them, beyond their initial interaction she had not really caught his eyes again.

She didn't know if she was thankful or worried for the lack of acknowledgement.

Now, more than ever, she was truly in awe of the way that Lord Kirschtaria had been able to face down not just Hades, but also Quetzalcoatl and stand before them without looking even so much as uneasy. It was a true testament to his character, and she had to remind herself that she needed to at least look the part, even if she did not feel it internally.

Anything else would embarrass Lord Kirschtaria.

Taking in a breath, she turned her eyes back to sea and stared out.

Though it was not truly an ocean, merely a representation of one.

In actuality, they were taking a boat somewhere between the different realms and moving to make port in the far edge of Muspelheim. As she understood it, there would be at least another full day of walking - unless she received a lift - before they made it to the citadel where Surtr was said to reside.

Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned back into her chair and felt herself turn more comfortable.

Or as much as she would be allowed.

Truly, this was both better and worse than everything she had come to expect.

Her eye landed on Schmidt once more, only moved by the fact he was slowly making his way towards her. She knew not whether he was trying to be subtle, but he could not have been more obvious with his intentions. She stared at him in silence as he grew closer and closer, then shifted and positioned himself not that far from the bench she was sitting on.

Schmidt did not sit down, but he looked like he wanted to.

Or rather, he was eyeing the spot beside her with some mild temptation before apparently deciding against it and staying where he was.

"...Do you need something?" She asked.

Schmidt rolled his lips and tilted his head. "Why do you keep looking at Lugh?"

"What?"

"Lugh." Schmidt repeated, turning and looking at the God as if that was just a thing that someone did. Ophelia felt her brows twitch as she snapped her fingers rather suddenly, he looked back at her with a hint of surprise, mouth open.

"Don't stare so brazenly." She whispered to him with a sharp turn of the head. "It could be seen as disrespectful."

"...Really?" He sounded so surprised by that.

"Yes." She confirmed and then drew in another breath, remembering why she had found his naivety to be more than a little tiresome, but now it seemed as though it was actively detrimental to his life. Where was Berserker and why was she not the one teaching him all of this in the first place?

Regardless of the era she came from, surely she knew that one did not just gawk at a God and start talking about them behind their back.

If she was going to endure him, the least she could do was make sure that he did nothing to get himself - or the both of them - into hot water with whatever divine they happened to come across during their time together. Not just them, but also with Surtr as well.

"Why?" He asked.

Ophelia opened her mouth, then closed it again as she realised what the problem was.

His relation with the Angel Gabriel had probably been one of equals, or perhaps close enough. In effect, it had never been drilled into him the difference in status and how a person was normally supposed to act. She had seen it in his dealings with the Goddess Brigid, but she had not truly understood it until right this moment. Or she had not put in the time to think about it until now.

There had been other things that required her attention, admittedly.

"Because," She began "Some people are more important than others."

"They are?" Schmidt looked bewildered by this, "You mean like Brigid and Dar?"

"Yes. Like Brigid and Dar." Ophelia nodded her head slowly. "They have status and their titles come with the expectation that they are to be shown respect for this. They do many things in their lives which earn them that respect…such as Gabriel."

Schmidt tilted his head but said very little, just looking a little thoughtful.

"She is an Angel of importance in the Church." Ophelia explained, remaining conscious of her words in case Susa-il was listening in and decided to throw in her own comments. "And so people are naturally respectful of her because she is important…if you are overly casual without having known them very long, it can be interpreted as you not recognising their importance."

"Which would be rude?" Schmidt inferred, then rolled his lips and nodded his head up and down. "Oh…Was I rude?"

"...Yes."

He winced and sheepishly looked down, bringing up his hand and rubbing the side of his head underneath his right horn. Even his wings dropped just a fraction.

"Oh. Do you think they were upset?"

If they were upset, then he most certainly would have known about it.

"I do not believe they minded." Ophelia replied instead. "But not all would be as forgiving as Dar and Goddess Brigid…so it would be best to avoid being rude by mistake."

"But I didn't know I was rude." Schmidt replied, though now he seemed a bit conscious of it. "How can I not be rude if I thought I was being friendly? That was how Gabriel and Sister Kiara asked me to treat them…"

Ophelia felt as though she was having a conversation with a child.

…Maybe she was.

"Sister Kiara and Gabriel are different people making allowances for you." She explained. "For whatever reason, they decided to forgo formalities and treat you casually. It remains a privilege for you and you alone…others, for example, are likely not able to speak with them like you could."

He blinked at that, then blinked again as if realising something. "Was that why Dar looked surprised?"

It sounded like he was getting it. "Most likely, yes."

"Ooooh." Schmidt nodded his head, then looked at her a little hesitantly. "...Can you tell me how not to be rude?"

…Was she going to really teach him basic etiquette and-

"I see no reason why she should refuse such an earnest request."

She stiffened at the voice that was suddenly beside her, head whipping up and eye widening.

Ophelia had not even heard him move and suddenly he was just there, looking down on both of them.

…He didn't even cast a shadow.

Lugh stood with arms folded and face impassive, eyes switching between the two of them, a touch of a smile on his lips but it was a small thing and now feeling rather ominous. "Especially if you wish to avoid problems in the future…as this young lady has pointed out, there are many who would be quite the stickler for such things…and seeing as how she has pointed it out to you."

Slowly, he turned his head and looked down at her, pinning her with his eyes.

"It would be remiss of her not to offer some aid to help you in that, would it not?"

He made it sound like a request.

It wasn't.

It really wasn't and they both knew it.

"...Of course." She croaked back, turning back to Schmidt. "Of course. Berserker can fill in any blanks I leave behind, but a basic lesson in etiquette would…would be permissible."

Schmidt beamed at her. "Thanks, Ofeelea."

She pinched her brows and stared at him.

"...Did you just say my name with an F?"

"...Isn't there an F in it?"

"...No. It's 'ph'."

"...That makes an F sound?"

She kept a respectful distance.

If it could be called that.

Fact of the matter was that just looking at him made her irrationally angry…no, there was nothing irrational about her anger. She was wholly justified in how she felt at the moment and there was very little that she could possibly do about it short of drastic measures. Yet even with those, she doubted it would have much of an effect.

Her jaw clenched hard, her teeth ground against one another with such force that they would have broken in the mouth of anyone else.

But hers made a rather loud grinding noise instead.

Yet she could not turn away because she knew for a fact that if she took her eyes away from him then he would just do something monumentally stupid and reckless. So through all of her rising anger, she had to just stand there and watch at the sidelines because looking away and saving herself the pain would be to invite more pain later.

Not to mention that Angel…

Berserker's eyes narrowed at the mere thought and her rational anger grew.

If there was one thing she knew about, it was using people for her own ends and that one could not have made their desires any more transparent. Yet the moment she realised what they were doing - and she had underestimated them for that, she had not thought them capable of that level of complex strategy - it was too late for her to say anything.

Because Schmidt looked so very taken with the idea that dragging him away, even for his own good, would have had him fight her over it.

Not physically, but he would have fought for it.

And she could do nothing but watch and wait.

Watch and wait.

And debate how easy it would be to actually just take him and run.

It would certainly be difficult, especially with the Angel…

Berserker did not find her chances all that favourable against them, she knew for a fact they were stronger than her. Though with her sword, perhaps if she were to quickly use her Noble Phantasm when they least suspected it, she might be able to pull it off…

But then there was the mage.

The mage was hiding something, Berserker could just tell.

It was a problematic situation she was in.

And she hated it.

She hated it so very much.

Her hands dug hard into her arms to the point they almost drew blood, but she stopped as the pain set in and closed her eyes. Taking in a breath that was anything but calming, but it did focus her mind as she tried to think of a solution. Her eyes slowly opened again and she looked at the back of Schmidt's head.

His education was limited.

He was as innocent as he was naive, so that needed to be fixed sooner rather than later.

But how?

Berserker rolled her jaw back and forth.

She'd lost the easiest time to do it, so now she would have to try and play it self and subtly infer some things. Even her aggression had been met with no results, though it was acknowledged.

Acknowledged, and ignored.

A flare of her senses drew her mind, she rose up sharply as the presence of the God on the boat - with a magical energy signal blazing like the sun - turned his attention towards her and began his casual advance to her. She kept her expression carefully devoid of emotion, even as she tensed herself ever so slightly.

Though he had shown no hostility yet, she was no fool.

A God of this statue and power did not accompany their group on something so simple as a case of brokering deals.

No.

It was clear to her why he had come along.

Once close enough, the God stopped and then folded his arms over his chest, gold eyes peered down at her and narrowed ever so slightly. There was nothing hostile in the gaze per-say, but there was a degree of intrigue that she was wholly uncomfortable with. Not quite sure how much information had already been shared.

Well, he would get nothing from her.

"...So much unlike the others."

It was a soft murmur, the God Lugh raised his hand and rubbed his chin idly.

A comment that perhaps he had not even intended to make.

"Did you come to speak with me for a purpose?" She asked

Lugh twitched his lip. "I see that not even in my presence do you lose your pride as a Queen, and that much I can infer…there is a dignity that you all have regardless of origin. Though yours is not an assumed dignity…rather you truly are a queen and yet…"

He trailed off, but there was a sharpness to his words.

Then the easygoing smile returned.

"But that is not what I am here for, regardless of how this situation transpires."

"No." Berserker replied. "I suppose you are not."

Raising a brow for a moment, he said nothing but the mirth in his eyes dimmed just enough. "Am I to assume the only one who does not grasp the full implication of my presence here is the dragon?"

He sounded amused at that.

Berserker did not give him the dignity of a response to such an obvious question.

"A rather curious figure, that one." Lugh continued, hands dropping to his hips. "A dragon indeed, I can sense as such, but there is some humanity about him. That feeling as well, it is a rather potent and definite one but…shall we say it has been diluted? The Dragon-King Fafnir…"

"If you say so." She replied. "I have never met him so I couldn't say how familiar he is to anything."

"No, I suppose not." There was a brief twitch of the lip once more. "But he seems to hold you in some high regard and there is an anger within you that comes only from-"

Berserker looked at him and let out a breath. "I shall tell you now, Divine or not, I am in no way inclined to continue a conversation with you on this topic. You would only serve to waste your breath."

Lugh looked a touch shocked by this. "Such boldness. It has been an age since any mortal has been brave or foolish enough to speak to me in such a way…I understand I commented on your pride as a queen, but surely there are limits to such things, are there not?"

"Perhaps in other matters." She replied. "Certainly not this one. It is a private concern of mine and not the place of outsiders to interfere in, regardless of their status."

"And if he should make the first step instead?"

"...That would be his choice, but it is not mine."

"Mmmmh. I see."

She was not certain that he did, but he was convinced of it.

Lugh stepped away from her, arms folding over his chest once more as he took in a breath.

"Then I shall merely speak at you." He announced and continued before she could even get off another word. "And say that you allow the boy to keep some dangerous company. A zealot such as that in the presence of one devoid of experience? I am rather astounded by how you could allow such a thing."

Berserker fought the urge to clench her fists.

"There is a degree of delicacy involved." She replied slowly. "And it was not allowed."

"Ah, I see."

Another shrug.

"Well, I shall take your word for it and leave you to it." He smiled. "For surely you can have no need for my aid in this matter, as there is clearly much you have under control."

That was a smile he wore that told her many things.

Chief of all being that he knew her predicament.

Berserker kept her face level.

She was not quite so desperate as to forsake her pride and get down on her hands and knees to beg. If she alone did not achieve this, then the result would be ultimate worthless in her hands.

"Then it would seem the omniscience of the Gods is a tale that holds true, if you can see as much."

Lugh watched her for a moment, then closed his eyes and nodded his head. "Very well…But suppose I were called upon to do as I am implied, what side do you suppose the young dragon would take?"

A single eye was cracked open with a sharpness in that pupil to root her to the spot.

For a split second, she grimaced before catching herself.

But it was for a split second all the same.

The arms of Lugh unfolded.

"How unfortunate."

It was all he said as he stepped back and looked down at her with a mixture of pity and resignation, then turned his back and strode aware, deciding that was where the conversation would end.

A fitting place, she supposed, as there was little left for either of them to discuss.

Berserker felt it more important than ever to make sure Schmidt was nothing at all like that man.

No matter how much he tried to be, even by accident.

They spied land later than she would have thought.

Much later.

Ophelia had figured that a land infamous for heat and flame would have been spotted miles away, if only for the black cloud which would have hung above it churned up from all the fire. At least that was the impression everyone had given of what to expect.

Save for one little thing.

By the time she got out onto the main deck and headed for the bow of the ship, they were close enough that even she could see the land.

Yet that was the problem, or at least she thought it was curious.

"...I was expecting more flames." She found herself saying, not quite sure if she should have been disappointed or worried.

A quick glance was aimed in the direction of Lugh, she did not think he would have deceived them and led them to somewhere else. If there had been a stop on the way there, she felt it would have been the sort of news they were informed of.

Except the moment her eye landed on the face of the God, she noticed something striking about it.

That being the deep frown present upon his lips and the narrowed gaze.

She would almost say that he looked surprised.

Which held some…rather disturbing implications.

Was there something amiss here?

The creak of movement signalled Lugh stepping away from the bow of the ship and retreating further onto the deck, she did not need to turn or even strain her ears to listen to him. Rather, the feel of his magical energy growing further and further away was all the sense she needed.

Quickly followed by the sudden build up right beside her.

"He is clearly alarmed by the development."

"There is a development, then?" Ophelia looked the way of Susa-il, she too was staring out across the horizon to the distant land.

It could mean only one thing. "Then-"

"Yes." Susa-il interrupted her with a nod of the head. "This is not what I expected Mushphelheim to be either."

Ophelia thinned her lips, that sounded rather troublesome to her. "I assume we have not been lead astray?"

The angel only shook her head. "The pagan is confined to his role. As one of justice, trade and kingship, he would not stoop to the level of deception, nor would he need to go to such lengths to deal with us. His actions now speak of a true surprise to this state of affairs."

With a turn of the head, the skull mask aimed down at her. "How do you intend to proceed?"

That was something Ophelia was not certain how to answer at the moment, turning her eyes back to the shores which grew closer and closer as the seconds ticked past.

She could not even begin to imagine what had happened with the realm of the fire giant here, but if there was something wrong…then what did that mean for her plan?

No, she could not lose hope just yet.

Everything had pointed towards the Fae and the celtic gods still believing that Surtr was alive and well, they would have known more than any other the current condition of the fire giant, save for only Odin and Asgard. If he had perished for any reason or was in a state of weakness, then she could not see that news remaining hidden for long.

Matter of fact, she doubted Jedidiah would let her waste time on such a mission if he did not also know Surtr was alive.

"We continue on." She announced. "Surtr is closely related to this realm, any change in its nature should be indicative of his current wellbeing."

Which begged the question.

Why had the fires gone out?

Ophelia glanced back up at the angel. "Did you learn anything of these realms during the war?"

Susa-il was quiet for a short moment, then turned her attention back out to sea.

"It was rumoured that Asgard was waiting for a chance to launch an attack upon us." She said, slowly and grimly. "But we never found out whether such were the mere gossip of Grigori to have us save our strength…But others who led the campaigns out of the underworld avoided their lands. Gabriel in particular was adamant about not triggering a confrontation with the Aesir and Vanir."

Not without good cause.

Against the likes of Thor, she did not believe that even a Seraphim like Gabriel would have been able to achieve victory against him.

Why bother fighting more enemies than you really needed to?

"But no news of the other realms?"

Susa-il only shook her head. "It was only the armies marshalled by Asgard which were spoken about during such councils and them alone. The Jotunns remained content in their own realm, sequestered off in the far corners of creation. This is the first I have seen of the land of fire beyond word of mouth."

Little information to be learned from there then.

Which meant the other option was to ask the God himself.

She could do that.

With an inhale, she turned on her heel and walked onto the deck in the direction the God of light had retreated to, though was still visible from the glow of his cape and the manner in which he had only gone further onto the main deck and nowhere below.

Drawing closer, she could just about make out him weaving his hand in the air, a moment later the outstretched limb contained what appeared to be some manner of crow or raven made purely of light. Though the sight of the corvus stilled her for only a moment as her mind flashed back to the previous instant.

Ophelia clenched her jaw and pushed onwards.

Lugh whispered and then flicked his hand upwards, the bird vanished as a streak of light across the horizon and disappeared faster than the eye could blink, she watched it for a moment and then dropped her gaze back to the God, advancing once again and coming to a stop a respectful distance from him.

"I did not hide my surprise." His words echoed, eyes sweeping towards her.

Shaking her head, she lowered it ever so slightly. "Would it be permissible of me to ask a question?"

"I shall answer the question I assume you are going to ask." Lugh replied, striding past her and back to the original spot. "Because I have ears that work and neither you nor that vagrant by your side are very subtle when it comes to conversations."

It took her a moment to realise who else he was referring to.

Straightening, she stared at his back as he came to a stop, arms raised up and folded over his chest once more.

"No. I do not know why the land of flame has gone cold…But I do intend to find out. I expect your questions on the subject have been answered and that there is little need for you to ask further."

It only confirmed what she suspected already, but his tone made it clear he would not allow further brokering on the subject.

Ophelia did not see the need to push him either.

Rather clumsy footsteps behind her were almost a welcome relief for that, turning and finding Schmidt looking rather exaggeratedly between herself and Lugh as he came to a stop.

"Is something wrong?"

She sighed.

"Yes."

"Oh." Schmidt did not look like he knew what to do with that answer. "...What?"

"...Muspelheim isn't burning."

She got a very slow blink.

Did he not understand what the problem might have been with that?

"It is called the land of fire." Explaining slowly, she made sure to punctuate the final word. Watching his face to see if he could grasp why she was worried about it.

At least his confusion was shorter lasting this time, quickly raising both brows and widening his eyes as a sound of understanding rumbled in his throat, rapidly bobbing his head up and down as he leaned to the side and looked past her. Squinting into the horizon and then blinking very slowly.

Ophelia caught something in his expression, he blinked and then squinted again.

"Are we heading for the port? Because those people look really big."

"They would likely be jotunns-"

Her explanation was cut short by the call of Lugh ahead of them.

"Fomorian."

At that she stopped, then turned about and stared with wider eyes.

Fomorian?

Holding her tongue, she hoped that she was able to get across her unspoken question, but she was met with only silence from the back of the God as he kept his eyes ahead of them. Instead she glanced the way of Susa-il and hoped that she had not been so far removed from matters as to be ignorant.

The Angel approached her and then gave a silent shake of the head.

Fomorian…the ancient enemy of the Irish pantheon.

…Why would they be in the land of fire?

They were eventually close enough that she could see them without reinforcing her eyes, and it was as Schmidt said it to be.

The individuals present were larger than humans - standing perhaps three times her own size - and had started to gather around the closest pier in an almost procession.

It was hard to not look between Lugh and the supposed Fomorian with a hint of worry, not for the fact that the God of Light would lose, but rather what would become of them if a fight broke out.

Kuoh was serving as a bleak warning for what became of those caught in the crossfire without adequate protection.

And Lugh was above both Michael and Maalik, it was a fact well established.

Yet she could do nothing about it now and she knew as such, the boat slowed to a crawl and then stopped, the sails were rolled back up and the vessel hung beside the pier. Lugh was the first to start moving, sweeping a hand out and forming what looked to be a bridge of pure and solid light which led right off the edge of the ship and down to the pier below.

She imagined it was easier to let him through first and then follow in his stead.

The moment he was down, she was moving and climbing up and sparing a sweeping gaze over their surroundings.

For all intents and purposes, it looked to be a port town.

Perhaps a century or two out of date in terms of aesthetic, but that all was background to the fact it was sized up. Rather expected given the height of the occupants, but it was still rather bewildering how she could see the houses and buildings grown to such an exaggerated proportion while - likely - being smaller in population than a town of equal importance in the realm of man.

But her eyes dropped down to the sight of the pier, where Lugh stood as though he belonged, aura radiating from him to the point it was glowing.

Then her gaze moved past him and to the gathering of Fomorian further up the length of the pier.

…They didn't look all that different from humans, perhaps with some exaggerated hair colour from more than one or two of them with some bright pinks and greens, but no more outlandish than a person dying their hair.

At least they kept a healthy distance from them.

"Everything is so big-"

""Schmdit.""

Ophelia's voice overlapped with another and she turned over her shoulder, briefly making eye contact with Berserker and then breaking it just as swiftly.

Evidently they both had the same idea and it was one that Schmidt thankfully took to heart with the way he went silent.

Heading down the ramp and onto the pier, she moved around behind Lugh and stared down towards the crowd of some thirty or perhaps forty. Gauging their reactions was hard but she expected more hostility, this was something like unease or bemused suspicion at best.

The crowd of Formains parted, revealing one who was just a touch shorter than them - perhaps only twice her height - and advancing rapidly on them with a speed that was beyond what she had expected.

Ophelia tensed at the expression that was almost thunderous.

Then glanced up at the back of Lugh, his shoulders had squared and he was looking close to acting as well.

Taking a half step back, she thinned her lips and glanced back at the Formian woman who was virtually upon them now.

Was this going to be a fight?

She hoped not but-

"Five hundred years! Five hundred!"

And then there was a thundercrack of a slap, Ophelia covered her ears as Lugh's head whipped down as it was struck from above by the open palm of the woman. It had been a lighting fast blow and she had felt it before she even heard it, the pressure washing over her, but it was nothing compared to the way her heart stopped them-

Lugh was yanked off his feet and into…

…A really tight embrace?

…What?

Ophelia squinted as she held her hands over her ears, the muffled sounds were hard to hear over the ringing but as it faded away and she went back upright, she started to make out what the formian woman was saying.

"-ow big you've grown! Five hundred years is too long!"

"I sent you a letter not even ten years ago-put me down already-"

"No!" Snapping rather aggressively, the taller woman only held the God tighter to her in a bear hug, burying her head into his shoulder and leaving his legs dangling.

…What was she supposed to do in this situation?

Was this normal?

What?

"Mother-" Lugh started and then sighed.

Opehlia, meanwhile, found herself blinking with some sudden sense of understanding.

Then it faded rather quickly and her brows pinched.

…Mother?

This was…his mother?

…Well, it certainly explained why he had let her strike him and why he hadn't broken out of the hold even though it would likely have been a trivial matter.

But now she felt more than a little out of place, looking over her shoulder to the others and seeing if they were just as perturbed by this as she currently felt. Not that she expected much from Susa-il and, true to that, the Angel looked more impatient with her arms folded and wings held tight.

Schmidt was grinning like an oaf.

Berserker just had a face carved like stone.

With that, Ophelia turned back as Lugh was deposited back onto the ground and the larger woman started to fret over him once again, hands running through his hair and over his face with a growing frown.

"Look at this…I thought I told you to shave-"

"I can look how I want-"

"Like you were pulled from a bin? Or backwards through a hedge?" Rapidly shooting down his words, the formian only clicked her tongue.

Ophelia got the chance to actually look at her.

Hair that was closer to sky blue than the deep sapphire of her son, she had relatively soft features despite her large size, combined with clothes that looked more suited to a fisherman than supposed royalty, it was rather bemusing to say the least.

Then she looked over at the rest of the port and decided it was, perhaps, in keeping with the nature of this place.

"We are not here to-get off me."

Freeing himself from the confines of the hug, Lugh took several steps backwards.

All while his mother pouted at him for his actions.

Ophelia was rather glad to be beneath notice at the moment, as this felt like a moment she would not want to interfere with.

"I am here for other reasons." Lugh announced, arms held at his side before he made a rather pronounced gesture behind her and inland. "But I am more questioning as to what that is supposed to be? Surely the Lord of Flame was not so willing to offer you sanctuary and then render a portion of his kingdom snuffed?"

With a tight face, Lugh's mother dropped her arms down to her side and watched him closely.

Then suddenly the eyes were upon her.

"An interrogation so swiftly? It seems you have indeed forgotten how to treat your mother. Especially as you have brought guests with you, what are they to believe when they see how cold and uncaring you can be?"

Ophelia managed half a step out of pure reflex alone as the larger woman cleared the gap between them, dropping down to one knee which still put her head and shoulders over Ophelia's own height and peering down.

"Like this one? She seems like a nice young woman."

There was an expectation here.

Was she supposed to introduce herself?

Better safe than sorry.

"Greetings." Standing up stiffly, she bowed her head in a polite gesture. "My name is Ophelia Phamrsolone. It is an honour to be welcomed as a guest in the realm of Muspelheim and this village."

"See? Such a polite young woman. I bet that she would treat her mother with some more respect."

Lugh huffed.

Ophelia really did not want to cause strife or earn the ire of the God of Light.

"Now then, you are certainly welcome here, miss Ophelia, as are these many other little friends here and…my, my, my…"

The weight of the stare shifted over her and then the shadow of an arm passed above her head, Ophelia turned just in time to see Schmidt plucked up off the ground by the scruff of his shirt and held in the air, the blue haired woman brought the hybrid up to eye level and looked over them with a great deal of scrutiny.

Schmidt, meanwhile, seemed a little off balance but caught himself quickly.

But Ophelia was more worried about the fact he was getting singled out.

"Uhm…hello?"

With a wave of the hand, Schmidt offered a polite greeting and then sent a look towards her as if she was supposed to know what to do in this situation.

"You're a rather curious little one, aren't you? I know not of any new dragons that could change their appearances such as you and yet…mmmmmmh…Oh? Are you a…Mmmmm. That would explain it."

"If you would be kind enough to lower him down."

Berserker raised her voice.

"I am accepting of curiosity, but I would rather he be examined - if at all - with his feet firmly beside mine."

Was she trying to start something?

That sounded like a worse case scenario waiting to happen, going around making demands of the local leaders.

And then the larger woman made a small sound and lowered Schmidt back to the ground.

"Oh, my apologies then, he's a very handsome young man." Wearing a bright smile. "You should be very proud of him."

Berserker only huffed at that.

"Mother…"

With an impatient grunt, Lugh cut into the conversation in an effort to remind people he was still here.

Not that she had forgotten.

The Formian only rolled her eyes and glanced at him as though he was a petulant child.

"I haven't forgotten about you, Lugh…And Angel, I know that you're scowling. I thought with how old you are, you'd have at least learned some patience in your life."

…Well, she wasn't going to disagree with that.

The Formian turned about, then stopped and snapped her fingers.

"Oh, dear me." Spinning about and facing them once more, the smile returned. "You can call me Ethniu…Or Ethy! That's much cuter!"

And then she struck a pose.

Lugh was cupping his face in his hands.

…Maybe this was why he didn't visit all that often?

Ethniu threw open the doors to the assembly hall with a rather heavy thud.

"I hope you'll be patient with us while we find some chairs that suit you."

Stopping, she turned and gave a little giggle as she gestured to them.

"We don't often get many visitors who are as little as you lot."

Ophelia raised her voice before anyone else could. "I would not wish to put you through any additional hassel-"

"Oh, it's no trouble, Lia,"

Lia?

With a carefree tone and a brush of the hand, Ethniu turned about and strode forwards with a spring in her step. It was rather odd to watch the woman go skipping across the length of the room and then compare her antics - because that was the best word for it - with the stoic nature of her son.

Schmidt was taking it all in stride though.

And at least she had the early experience with Quetzalcoatl to prepare her for this type of behaviour for powerful individuals.

Even if she hadn't been expecting it here.

"Come on, you're our guests." Ethniu snapped her fingers and whipped around, the formation of a magic circle heralded the appearance of a rather tall table which cast a shadow over herself, although it was bereft of chairs and seating for them all. "You can all at least stay for a little while, can't you?"

Now she was looking at them with big eyes, like some sort of small animal.

She was leaving this to Lugh and thinking no further.

During the same time she thought as such, she stepped up beside Schmidt and leaned towards him.

"Try to avoid speaking with-"

"Do not engage with-"

""Her.""

Once again, she glanced up and met the eyes of Berserker, only this time they were accompanied with some manner of frown. At least the woman looked as if she didn't know whether to be annoyed or not.

Schmidt just tilted his head. "I thought it was rude not to talk with people?"

Berserker only huffed. "Some people are much too troublesome to speak with and doing so only brings said trouble down on you."

"Really? But she seems nice."

Yes, she seemed very upfront.

Just like Serafall Leviathan.

That also didn't stop said person from being wholly capable of swatting away a small country with the wave of a hand.

It was important to remember such.

"Yes." Ophelia said aloud and Schmidt was looking back at her. She had to phrase this delicately. "...It is easy to get into trouble when listening to nice people. Answer a question she poses to you, but do not seek one out."

Schmidt looked a little troubled, and somewhat confused…but he eventually nodded his head and relented to the combined words of herself and Berserker.

Berserker looked a bit pleased, but was then looking at her and frowning that same suspicious look.

Ophelia wasn't sure if she was being regarded with the same sort of scepticism as Susa-il.

Her words were common sense, or so she thought.

"I am afraid we have urgent business to attend to and a delay would be impossible."

And there was Susa-il speaking again, but this sounded far more measured and polite than normal.

Probably because insulting the mother of the very powerful God to her face all while being in full view of said God was a level of stupidity that she doubted even Susa-il was capable of.

Or so she hoped.

"Pooo!" Ethniu loudly responded, huffing and folding her arms. "You have to stay for a little while…because I'm sure you'd at least like to have some questions answered before you all went on your way, yes?"

With a sly smirk, she peered down at them all.

"Not to mention Lugh won't let you go anywhere until he's satisfied with what he hears…so you'll have to stay as long as he does."

…This woman was quite devious, it seemed.

Ophelia did not let that feeling surface in any readable expression, instead she just turned her head to the angel and to see her response. It was one that she was expecting to be far from pleased at the news.

And it certainly showed as much.

The wings of Susa-il quickly folded in tight against her body and held themselves there, rather it was as if her entire body had been pulled taut.

"Then speak quickly."

Lugh ordered.

"Because I am here on business as well. Do not delay us because you feel entitled to a social call, mother."

"You won't even call me mummy?"

"Mother."

"Hmph!" Exaggerating a pout, Ethniu turned her head upwards and huffed. "My son has become a delinquent!"

Was she allowed to get annoyed about this?

Was it safe for her to get annoyed about this sort of behaviour? Because now she was debating the validity of just walking out of here and marching further inland and then hoping for the best.

Reckless, perhaps, but it was rapidly showing better odds of netting them information than this was.

"Come."

Blinking, she glanced as Lugh was suddenly marching past her.

"We shall get our answers elsewhere."

Oh.

So that was allowed then?

Very well.

"Thank you for the hospitality." She said on reflex and turned on her heel, following after the God and wondering whether this was some sort of tactic or not to force answers out of her.

Though whether it was or was not, she imagined they would get results.

"Ah-wha-?" Ethniu let out a gasp of surprise behind them.

She heard the crashing of limbs and then it was followed by an earsplitting shout.

"Wait a moment! Alright, alright! I'll tell you!"

Lugh stopped at those words and turned back around.

She turned around as well, then had to fight back a visual response to seeing Ethniu on her hands and knees, stretching out her hand in a pleading gesture towards them as though begging them not to leave. Although she was certainly quick to get back up the moment she had their attention all over again.

Brushing down her clothes, she sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"Centuries go by and I have to contend with only letters from you? Why am I being bullied for wanting to spend time with my son?"

"I have obligations that cannot be dropped, not even at your word…"

Ethniu looked like a beaten puppy-

What was Schmidt doing?!

"At least he writes letters to you. I think that shows he cares a lot."

Ethniu looked down with an unreadable expression.

Then she was dropping a hand on top of Schmidt's head while cooing.

"Awwww~ Aren't you just a precious little thing."

"Leave the half-breed be-"

"Don't be so rude to the young man." Ethniu defended rather swiftly, arms folded. "I know you were taught better than that by me."

Lugh looked on with rising irritation, then dropped his shoulders. "...I am currently trying to manage a rather important situation here, mother. Not all of us are so deprived of vast responsibilities."

Ethniu's expression flattened.

"Do not speak to me about vast responsibilities, boy." She pointed. "I have more to deal with than you are aware of…or have you being doing the work to change our reputation from walking natural disasters in league with the first generation of Devils? Time was where we were viewed with the same scorn as those marauders."

"Fine!" Throwing up his arms, Lugh stepped back. "I misspoke."

"..."

"...And I shall not speak rudely without cause."

Ethniu gave a satisfied nod of the head, then she stepped towards the table and sat herself down, spinning the chair so that it was facing them as well, one arm leaned on the edge while the other rested on her lap.

"...You've probably noticed that Muspelheim isn't as it was reported to be."

Yes.

Yes she had.

Ethniu seemed to recognise that, then she shrugged. "Fact of the matter is that when we sought refuge in the other realms following my fathers death at the hands of Lugh-"

"I am not apologising."

"-we were fortunate that Surtr was welcoming of us. Though it was hardly an open invitation and delivered to us via his wife, what was left of the Fomorian passed the decision unto me as the oldest surviving heir of Balor."

Sweeping an arm up, she gestured around them to the town hall.

It was rather simple, all things considered.

"And this is where we found ourselves. Even when we arrived, the flames were already starting to lose their edge but anyone here for a brief stay would hardly have noticed all that much, if at all."

Ophelia felt her brows pinch tight at the words.

It had been centuries since then, but the flames had already started to dwindle.

What did that mean for Surtr's health then?

"Is Surtr-"

"He does live and I have met him." Ethniu seemed to tell what she was going to ask and answered before the words left her. Green eyes drifting to her. "...Well, I met his wife as well and she did most of the talking. Lovely woman, she offered to do most of the work to get us all settled down and listened to our little complaints."

That would be Sinmara.

In it of itself, the notion of the queen of the land taking on a proactive role in the governance was not far removed from the confines of common sense. As had been shown with Persephone, it could just as easily happen with the likes of the Greek Gods.

But something about this was rather catching to her attention.

She said she met Surtr once but spoke of Sinmara with greater words.

Which meant it had been the consort of the Jotunn who had taken in helping them.

Curious.

"But Surtr, I did meet with him to discuss our case for refuge here and how it would appear."

Ethniu trailed off, her left hand fell to the table and her fingers drummed up and down, producing a steady pattern as she sucked in her bottom lip.

A clear display of hesitance.

"...Though he didn't seem all that interested when we did meet with him. Though not to say I am going to look down on his charity in letting us have a small portion of land to call our own, certainly when we have been in close trade with our Jotunn neighbours."

Then she was smiling.

"Why, just the other week there was a lovely punch up between the smiths and the builders! They are ever so close."

That was being on friendly terms with them?

She set that aside and focused more on Surtr.

Detached from the governance of their own land and who was settling in it?

…Was he ill?

That…that was not something she had considered but now it was something she was starting to lean towards.

Ragnarok had never happened for some reason…if Surtr was too sick or if he had been neutralised in a manner that did not kill him but instead left him unable to act all that much then…

It was not the sort of news that someone would advertise, Ophelia felt.

"What of the fires?" Turning back up, she bit her lower lip and rephrased the question when the eyes of the Formian flicked to her. "What I meant to say was that the fires were already starting to dim, when did they fully expire?"

"...A little over a hundred years ago." Ethniu answered that with some small reluctance.

"And when did Sinmara last visit you?"

"..."

Lugh let out a mirthless snort. "I see…It is fortunate that I have business with the fire giant, though I am curious as to why you saw fit to keep this news to yourself."

Ethniu frowned, turning a disapproving eye on the God. "Because one does not get invited into a home as a guest and spread gossip about the owner without reason. We have been good neighbours to the Jotunns and shall not speak ill of their king or give reason to believe that they are suffering merely because our lands have become more agreeable to us."

Interesting as that was, she was more concerned with Surtr.

"Did Sinmara act any differently when you last saw her?"

"Did I not just speak about gossip?" Ethniu turned on her with a frown. "I believe I made it clear. You have the answers that you seek on the matter and they are about as much as I can say with certainty. I will not speculate further on the matter, unless you are willing to push my good will?"

She was not, no.

With a shake of her head, she stepped back and parted herself from the conversation.

It had already given her more than enough of something to work with here, or at least lead her down some manner of suspect.

As a realm it seemed as though Muspelheim was almost starting to fall asleep…or perhaps even die?

No, that would be ludicrous and yet…

…The death of Surtr could only serve to benefit Odin, which meant she could not quite rule out his hand in this matter. As a God of expansive wisdom, she could not dismiss the possibility that he had managed to somehow find a way around the prophecy.

There had been that case with the clone of the fire giant the norse Gods abandoned but it was still up for speculation.

No, this could be something else.

But again, she did not believe Surtr was dead.

No…

Her eyes narrowed and she cupped her chin, tuning out other thoughts.

A shadow appeared in the corner of her eye, she glanced up to find Susa-il having come to a stop beside her.

"I would rule out the possibility of the Hanged-man."

"...As would I." Muttering back, she found it would bring more trouble than it was worse.

There was little reason to believe the Jotunn's would not already consider Odin as a culprit and would have likely started instigating some manner of aggression towards Asgard as a response, if not physically then at least in a manner that made it apparent.

Even if they did not reveal the extent to Surtr's weakness.

There were plenty of other Jotunn's who were equal to the Aesir and Vanir Gods that could serve as leaders.

Their lack of action and secrecy meant that Sinmara was, perhaps, aware of the true reason behind this.

But it brought about another problem.

"Would they even agree to meet with us in the first place?"

"I have sworn to bring you before Surtr, that is what I intend to do." Susa-il replied back. "It appears as though his consort is the means through to his side…if he can even muster the energy to speak anymore."

If he could.

No, this was something she needed to see through to the end.

Which meant she had to believe that Surtr was still a viable option, otherwise the plan would fall apart and they would need to start everything again from scratch if they even hoped of recruiting anyone who could launch an attack on Asgard long enough for them to assassinate Odin.

Her eyes drifted back up at the movement from Lugh, he parted from his mother and walked towards them.

There was a strange hardness in his eyes as he looked over both her and Susa-il.

Ah.

Right.

This was not what they had expected.

"...His citadel lies to the north, in the throat of the tallest mountain in this realm."

And she found herself a little surprised by his words.

Whether she showed it or not, he looked at her with a tilt of the head. "I believe your companion has spoken my words for me. I took an oath to lead you before Surtr and I shall accompany you…besides."

He took in a breath and exhaled.

"The Fomorians deserve to know if their new home is in danger."

That was likely influenced by his mother.

Well, it worked to her benefit.

"How quickly can we get there?"

Lugh hummed. "I wish to see the extent of the effects, so we shall pass at a reasonable speed."

…

She was sure their definitions of the word were not the same.