The Embers under the Great Tree

X

…Why did she agree to that plan?

Try as she might, she could not think of a single reason why she would make such a foolish choice as to accept the terms provided and yet there was now nothing she could possibly do to avoid it.

Backed into a corner indeed, she now needed to somehow find a way to sneak Surtr - the Surtr, King of Flame - out of Muspelheim while working under the assumption that Odin also had his eyes on the realm and was watching it closely.

All of which brought up the fact that her coming here might well have already been reported.

That was the worst case scenario.

Running her hand through her hair, she sighed and felt a bit weak in the knees.

The longer she thought about it, the more she found herself flying into the worst case scenarios.

Or perhaps they were just so obvious with the benefit of hindsight that she was only just now noticing them?

None of it made sense.

But there was no choice in the matter now, nothing she could do to prevent this.

For better or worse, she had to find a method of getting Surtr out while not arousing any sort of suspicion.

All she needed to do was think of something or perhaps ask someone else?

…No, she could not possibly keep going back to them and asking for help every time something blocked her path. The mere thought alone was enough to bring a well of shame up to her.

There would be little point in ever sending her out to do anything if her first response every time was to turn to another and ask them for solutions.

…What had she actually achieved thus far in coming out here?

Plan after plan had been corrupted from the onset, nothing went as she wanted it to go, and now she was here having bumbled her way through a meeting with Surtr and Sinmara - the two she had actually come here to meet in the first place - and she had been set an impossible task and without the first clue of how she was supposed to see it through.

A nightmare, that was what this was.

Yet…

Her hand dropped down onto her knee, her other cupped her chin.

There had to be something she just was not seeing yet, something that was missing…but what?

What could possibly be missing in all of this?

No, she needed to break down the problem and examine what she was aware of.

Surtr was weaker than he should be, but that was on account of the denial of his own existence. He was fighting himself the longer it took to remain here but now he would be too weak to actually set out to do what he was supposed to in the first place.

Perhaps once everything gained momentum, he would be able to wage a war on Asgard but getting to that point would be impossible. Odin had centuries - if not a full millennium - to prepare for the eventuality of Ragnarok and if there was one thing known about the God, it was his level of planning and paranoia.

Not to mention that wisdom of his which was the sole reason she set out to do this in the first place.

But Surtr was weak.

…Did that weakness help?

Perhaps, it meant there would be less to hide if they tried to smuggle him out of the realm but there was also the fact he was still a Jotunn and his presence was distinct, regardless of how subdued it was. Hardly as though they could just march the giant through the realm without drawing someone's eyes.

The moment that happened, they would be swamped with Aesir and Vanir Gods.

Problematic.

Very problematic.

But what else was there-

"A mystic eye, is it?"

Of all the times for him to start talking?!

Twitching, she glanced over as Lugh rubbed his knuckles, something bordering a smile present on his lips.

The words themselves had been soft, barely audible, but it was because he had gotten so close to her that she was able to hear them clearly enough.

With an internal huff, she nodded her head up and down, though wished to be allowed the freedom to return to her own thoughts so that she could muster up this plan. The God inclined his head and closed his eyes.

"...I rarely feel such strange nostalgia for the term, but I suppose it is impossible now. First we encounter my mother and then I am to find out that the one I am escorting is similarly blessed with an eye of magic?"

With a dry chuckle, he looked down at her.

"Something poetic about that, isn't there?"

"I am not sure I follow."

Lugh stepped around to the front of her, then lowered himself down into another of the seats provided, dragging it forwards and dropping his hands onto his knees.

"Come now, surely you know of it. Hardly much of a secret with the chaos it stoked."

Ophelia remained silent, but she quickly caught up to what he was speaking of now.

Perhaps he was nostalgic as such for the talk of Ragnarok?

Gods and giant beings waged in war? She supposed there was an element of similarity to them.

"There, you see?" Pointing and smiling, he dropped the arm back down. "You know it now. I rarely have the chance to be close to such eyes, though I expect them to be nothing like Balor, I would like to see them. Call it a form of payment for taking you here."

A payment?

Really?

Ophelia was not one to be treated as if she was little more than some animal in a zoo, but for all the payments that she could have demanded of her, this was one of the tamest.

Or so it appeared to be, but she was dubious about revealing her mysteries at the best of times without cause.

…Even still, if it would give her some peace.

Reaching up, she unworked the binding around the eye and allowed it to drop down, revealing the mystic eye in full and bringing her gaze to bare on the God of Light.

He chuckled and inclined his head.

"The last time I was this close to an eye such as that…well, I had a hard time fighting to keep my head from being cut off."

Idly rubbing at his throat, the wry laugh sounded rather strained.

If he was going to act like this, then she was curious why he even asked in the first place.

Nevermind the fact that her eye was nothing like that of Balor's.

"Our eyes are incomparable," She remarked aloud, "beyond the fact that he was Fomorian and I am human."

Lugh rolled his own eyes as if she had said something amusing. She must have missed the joke because she was being quite serious. Rather, she felt as though she was being patronised when he compared her eye to that of one of the most infamous out there. Likely right behind Shiva's in terms of how well known it could be for the destructive potential.

"I know that all too well." Lugh remarked. "But it is the principle of the matter, no? Or perhaps I am thinking of such things after all this talk of wars between pantheons and finding the last of the Fomorians…long has it been since I crossed their paths and very few of us parted on anything to be called pleasant terms."

He was probably putting that mildly.

But with this, she assumed he would be satisfied.

Moving her hand and bindings back up, she started to tie it back round and cover her eye.

"What does yours do? I'm sure I could just find out but it would be more respectful to ask."

"I would much prefer to keep that to myself."

The smile he was giving her after she spoke was hardly comforting, there was a tinge of knowing in that toothy grin.

Almost playful.

"Denial of possibilities, he said?"

There was something odd about his words, the way he was staring at her covered eye now, as if he was trying to piece something together.

And then he shrugged and turned his head, looking away from her and apparently dismissing it entirely.

But that was definitely strange and she did not think she was imagining it.

Eyes narrowed for a moment, she barely thought of Balor before moving to dismiss the possibility entirely.

What relation did the two of them even have beyond having eyes which might be vaguely related to time, but hers was different entirely. They could not possibly be called anything close to being the same.

There was no sense in thinking about it now and the distraction lasted long enough.

…

…

Wait.

Pinching her brows together, she turned her head very slowly to the side while her left hand reached up, fingers dancing just along the edges of the binding over her eye.

Balor's eye was now a Sacred Gear.

And Sacred Gears, more often than not, contained the souls or the essence of individuals.

Containing the essence of…

Ophelia felt her eyes slowly widen.

…The body remains behind while the essence was…

Could it work?

Could it truly work?

There was no way of knowing for certain, nothing at all to even let her believe it could work, but it was the best and possibly only idea that they had which could actually be done. She started to rise up from her seated position and folded her hands behind her back, pacing to the edge of the room.

If the essence of Surtr could be extracted without damaging it at all and if they could find a suitable vessel, then would it be possible for him to leave the confines of the realm without attracting the eyes of anyone else?

Ordinarily she would have dismissed the possibility entirely.

One did not find a vessel to hold the might of something as powerful as a Jotunn like Surtr, who was easily on par with a powerful God in his prime.

But that was the crux of the matter.

Surtr was weaker than he should have been at the moment, much weaker.

With his essence diminished, it would be less of a problem to find something that could possibly contain him. While she very much doubted that they could whip up anything close like a Sacred Gear, they did not need to. All they needed was something that could hold his power.

…Like the inheritors of heroic souls.

Or perhaps something else.

Very slowly, her eyes turned to the side and landed on Berserker, her eyes closed and arms folded.

…The bodies of Heroic Spirits were composed of magical energy, tightly woven together and designed to hold in an aspect of a mighty soul.

It was only an aspect and they held only a portion of their power, but it was still holding a literal piece of history.

Could they…make a body like that to contain Surtr?

Ophelia took this idea with both hands.

But they did not have time to craft something like that, or she did not have the time at the moment to do it and nor did she have the knowledge. Others might well do, but moving too and from the realm of the giants was not something she was sure would be a swift process. Not with the very real danger of their presence being detected.

Time was of the essence.

But she could think of few things to contain-

She stopped.

Her fingers rose up and danced along the surface of the binding once more.

…Ah.

Perhaps there was something.

It operated separately from her body, holding it's own magical energy and body, but to even consider something like that was insane.

She would think herself not quite so desperate, but perhaps it could act as a tether?

If such a thing could even be possible at all, she dared not imagine it.

…But now she could not help it.

Reckless foolishness, that was what it was, but if it held the slightest chance of success then could it be denied?

…Lord Kirschtaria and Daybit had done reckless things, put much on the line, to find success in South America with the Mesoamerican Gods becoming their allies. The report of his time had told her that Lord Kirschtaria had personally fought Quetzalcoatl in order to win her alliance.

Not only that, but he had the respect of Lord Hades as well.

…If it was for his sake - if it could for a small moment, match that level of commitment and ability he had shown - then was it truly a choice at all?

…

No.

No it was not.

If it was for the sake of Lord Kirschtaria's ideals - if it was for the sake of the man she had chosen to follow - then she could risk it.

Something that he would never approve of, something she did not even plan for.

It was instinct at best.

Her heart was hammering faster and faster in her chest, taking in a deep breath and then exhaling.

The beating slowed, her blood cooled and she felt only a sense of determination.

She had set out to do this for the sake of Lord Kirschtaria.

Yes, that was just what her admiration for him would allow her to do.

If he could accomplish such things, then it was only natural for those who had chosen to follow him to be no less willing to make those decisions as well.

Even Kadoc, for all his bitterness, had made that choice.

Plunging into the depths of the underworld and in the realm guarded by Tiamat herself, he had come back.

Ophelia turned back around to face the room.

But her thoughts soon halted as she noted something was wrong rather quickly, or rather that something was missing.

Someone was missing.

Where was Schmidt?

He had been here not even a few moments ago and now he was gone? Surely she had not been so distracted as to fail to notice his absence and-

The door to the chambers opened, and the person who occupied her mind stepped through with a rather strained expression on his face.

""Where have you been?""

Two voices demanded as one, both her and Berserker blended over one another.

Schmidt barely reacted to it as he would have done, which she found rather puzzling as by now he would have flinched or apologised.

Instead he just kept that strangely troubled face as he replied.

"I went and spoke with Sinmara and Surtr."

He did what?

"Why?" Blurting out the first thing that came to mind, she could not possibly make sense of why he would do that?

And worse, he only shrugged his shoulders at her and mumbled a small noise.

Hardly an answer.

Berserker no less pleased, stomped forwards and took him by the ear and twisted, dragging him across the room and to where she imagined there would be some privacy, yet her raised voice dashed any notion of that being a thing.

"Where did it come into your head to go out and do something as foolish as that?"

Schmidt's face did not change, nor did his words.

"I just wanted to talk with them…I was confused."

Berserker released his ear and folded her arms.

"And for that confusion you would just wander off? Are you so keen to throw yourself upon swords for that damned curiosity of yours?"

He shook his head. "No…but I just wanted to know something now I'm a little more…confused."

Berserker opened her mouth, but Schmidt beat her to it.

"Can I…ask you something…later?"

His eyes briefly moved to her, then to the others in the room.

…That was odd, though she had not known him long, she imagined Schmidt to be rather open with his thoughts.

From the silence of Berserker, it seemed she found this worth ending her tirade as well.

What Ophelia wanted to do right now was demand to know exactly what they had been talking about, but she doubted she would get an answer no matter how much she ordered or demanded.

Instead she turned to Susa-il.

"I have considered a solution."

The Angel perked up, skull mask changing its aim. "Have you now?"

"Yes."

Ophelia started to move, striding towards the door with more purpose than she had felt in a long time.

A risk indeed, but one she had to take.

"We're moving out to meet with Sinmara."

But then she stopped and glanced down, looking to Schmidt and Berserker.

"...You may wait here and discuss what it is you wish to discuss."

The dragon hybrid looked at her, then nodded his head very slowly.

…She was prepared for an argument and was met with quiet acceptance.

Odd.

"We shall return shortly then."

With that said and done, she turned her head and approached the door once again, already it opened before she even needed to get a word out.

The Jotunn's on the other side peered down at her in silence, then stepped aside and let her pass them by.

He didn't really notice them leave, but he knew they left.

Schmidt waited until he was absolutely certain they were gone before he started to move again, stepping away from Berserker and moving across to a further corner of the room before he slowly sat himself down.

Hands on his knees, he stayed there for a few seconds in silent confusion.

Everything was so much more different than he ever expected it to be.

A shadow fell over him, he looked up.

Berserker stood there with her hands on her hips, eyes peering down at him as if she was seeing through him.

Maybe she was?

Schmidt didn't really know anything anymore, so he didn't know if that was something she could or could not do.

"I…"

What did he want to say?

"...I think I miss my room."

Berserker immediately frowned, a rather clear sign of disapproval, but there was no harsh wording that followed it. Not like he expected at least, instead she was just frowning at him for what felt like hours before at last sucking in a sharp breath and stepping around him, dragging one of the provided chairs forwards and setting herself down upon it.

Why did he even say he missed his room?

That wasn't quite what he meant but at the same time, it was.

"And what exactly do you miss about it?"

She didn't sound very pleased with it, maybe as confused as he was but showing it differently?

No, that wording was…

Nevermind.

"It…wasn't confusing."

"Ah, so you miss the simplicity of it then." Berserker nodded once, leaned back and then waved a hand. "I am afraid much is true of any child growing up through life. You're hardly the first to miss the simple lens of the world before you grow up and see it for the cruel place that it is."

Was it…really cruel?

He didn't know if it was cruel, but it was certainly really mean at times.

A lot of stuff had happened that he didn't get the chance to stop and think about, that no one had been there to tell him about, and there was so much there that he didn't know the first thing about how to respond.

"...No one ever said."

Berserker huffed.

"Because they did not want to say. Someone who barely understands how the world works is much easier to manipulate than someone who does. Innocence is blind, after all."

She leaned forwards and pointed a finger at him.

"You would do well to remember that everyone, regardless of who they are, has an agenda that will involve you."

That sounded a little…

"Is that really the case though?" He asked, head cocked. "That seems…"

He didn't know how to say it but that didn't sound right. He never got that impression when he spoke to either Sister Kiara or Gabriel. They were the ones who talked to him about this sort of thing in the first place, that it was right to help those who were in need and when they talked about it.

When they talked about it, they made it sound so simple and easy.

Yet the world outside wasn't like that.

Looking up, he stared at Berserker.

She only folded her arms, "A difficult lesson it might be to learn, but it would do you good to learn it sooner rather than later. Especially those you think close to you…so very often they turn out to be lying for their own benefit, or perhaps for yours."

Schmidt leaned back a little and pinched his brows.

He tried to imagine Gabriel of Sister Kiara lying to him like that but he just couldn't put the two images together.

"That can't be the case…"

Surely it couldn't be the case?

Berserker closed her eyes and sighed, "It is."

Her words were straight and to the point, a tone rather cold.

But it didn't feel like she was saying this to be cruel, yet he did not know if that made it better or worse?

"So then," Opening her eyes, Berserker shifted and leaned forwards. "is this what you wished to speak with me about? Though I am at least glad to some extent that you have started to learn about how things work."

No, this wasn't what he wanted to ask her about.

"I don't know what's right or wrong."

Very slowly, Berserker raised an eyebrow.

"I…"

Schmidt looked down and stared at his hands, rubbing his fingers over one another and sighing to himself.

He just wanted an answer, he supposed, that was what he wanted.

Just someone to say something and make it simple for him like things used to be when he was inside the room.

That was really what he missed, he supposed.

When he would look to either Gabriel or Sister Kiara for an answer to a question and they would just give it to him and make it simple.

"If someone had to do something bad…really bad. Something that would get a lot of people hurt but doing it meant that the person they were in love with would be happy then…should they do that?"

He waited for an answer-

Schmidt let out a small gasp, hands took hold of his collar and suddenly he was dragged up to his feet.

Berserker loomed forwards, shifting her weight into him and bending him down slightly, so much so that she cast a shadow over his face. Eyes boring down into his own with a sharp glare within them, a burning in those which struck him silent and left him feeling incredible confused about what was going on.

"I…wha-?"

"What. Are. You. Talking. About?"

What?

"I…"

Taking in a breath, he fidgeted a little as he was held in her hold and started to rise up just a little, not a lot though.

The way Berserker was holding him didn't let him move all that much, and he was feeling more and more nervous as the seconds ticked past.

He'd never seen Berserker look like this before.

While she had always been a little intimidating, this was far beyond anything she had ever done before, the grip on his shirt growing tighter and tighter as she leaned closer - almost nose to nose - and hissed out the next words with venom.

"Do not go silent now," Seething, her unblinking eyes ordering him to keep his own gaze unobstructed. "Tell me. What are you talking about?"

"S-Sinmara and Surtr!" Hurriedly speaking out, he blurted out their names before he even realised what he was doing.

Hands flying up, he fumbled away at her hold on his collar to try and balance himself a little - and it was only a little - that he found some purchase on his feet but her shoving kept his knees bent and posture crooked. Schmidt gulped through a dry throat, feeling as though he had said something wrong.

He had to have done for this reaction, but he had just asked a question.

Was this another of those questions he wasn't supposed to ask?

But how could that have been the case if he didn't know he wasn't supposed to ask it in the first-

"Hmph."

Falling backwards as the hold on his collar abruptly vanished, Schmidt fell backwards and stumbled over the chair, he tripped and sent both he and the seat sprawling onto the ground. Not that it hurt, but he stayed there more in surprise.

Especially when Berserker stepped over and looked down at him with a piercing glare.

"...What do you think is the right choice?"

Schmidt couldn't answer, that was the problem.

He wanted to answer but he couldn't because he didn't know the answer in the first place, but it felt for a moment as if there was something more than that.

Something much more.

Like she was asking him another question and was going to judge him on his answer.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"Answer."

Her words came out like a snap, almost as if she physically struck him, and he flinched as if he had.

Schmidt couldn't look at her anymore, the uncertainty swamped his head and he found himself more comfortable staring down at the ground beside him.

"Schmidt."

All she said was his name.

But then…that was all she needed to say.

"I don't know."

He mumbled out, shrugging his shoulders a little.

"I don't think people should get hurt…but…"

Admitting it felt bad, like he was saying something wrong.

But it shouldn't feel wrong because he didn't think it was wrong to say.

"...but I don't think that the person you love should get hurt."

Gabriel told him about doing things for the people you loved most in the world.

He had the idea of marriage explained to him at some point, by Gabriel and Kiara both, and he'd struggled to understand feeling like that.

Even if he didn't understand it, he knew it was important.

Very slowly, he looked back up at Berserker.

Her face was blank, she wasn't making so much as a single flicker of emotion as she continued to stare down at him.

"Then what would you do?"

Schmidt looked down, crawling back and sitting cross legged on the floor.

"...What would you do?" The question was thrown back at her, but he just wanted to know what-

"I would do whatever it took for the one I loved."

There wasn't an ounce of hesitation.

He looked up in surprise with how quick and how confident she had answered the question, yet his surprise gave way to something else as he pinched his brows and pulled his lips down into a frown.

Not because he would point out someone else could get hurt, no.

That was not the case.

It was because of the face Berserker was making.

Bubbling emotions, but something pained.

Her hands clenched by her side, she glared down at him and put him into silence with that alone.

"I did…anything."

Then it was just gone.

Her face was blank.

Unfurling her hands, she turned around and walked off to the other end of the room and slowly sat herself down. No long was she looking at him, or even in his direction, she was just staring off somewhere into the distance.

"But it should be common sense, shouldn't it?"

It didn't feel like she was talking to him.

"If you marry someone, you do anything for them? You remain with them and yet…"

Berserker went quiet and said no more.

He didn't get an answer.

He wanted an answer but he didn't get one, instead Berserker looked more sad and miserable than ever before and he was feeling no less troubled about this whole thing. Berserker's answer hardly felt like an answer at all. She said she would do anything and yet she looked so sad about it.

"...Is there an answer?"

He found himself asking, whether to himself or to Berserker he didn't know, but that was all he could say.

None spoke up for the next few moments, the room plunged into a silence that was as oppressive as it was daunting.

Rising to his feet, Schmidt glanced the way of Berserker.

She gave no reaction to his slow movements, nor did she even so much as twitch as he started to walk towards her. Barely even responding at all as he sat down in front of her once again and dropped his hands onto his lap.

Marriage was important.

Gabriel had told him that.

But then hurting people was also wrong and that was what was going to happen if Surtr and Sinmara did what they were talking about.

Someone would get hurt but then someone would also stop hurting.

There was no other way for it.

Or if there was, he didn't know about it.

All of this was just too much for him.

"...Is the outside world always like this?"

"Hehe…did I not just tell you?"

Berserker let loose a croaking laugh.

"The world is cruel…and love is a fallacy."

That sounded awful.

Schmidt looked at her, she stared back with dull eyes.

Eyes that looked almost empty.

"You should remain with your spouse through it all, should you not? That is, after all, the oath you took when you became their spouse but…I suppose some just don't love them. Putting on airs about how much they mean without ever being honest."

That really did sound awful.

Lying to someone like that…

"I…I think Sinmara and Surtr really love each other."

"And?"

Berserker huffed, eyes closed and arms crossed.

"Their feelings do not change what is going to happen. Though the least they can do is agree on the right course of action…Surtr, I suppose, does his wife the courtesy of asking for an opinion first and foremost before anything else."

That sounded like she was talking about someone else, but he couldn't quite place it.

Yet he felt a little strange when she spoke like that, as if she was talking to him instead.

"So then."

Berserker spoke rather abruptly, head turned on him.

"What do you intend to do now, confused as you are?"

Blinking at her, it took him a little while for him to realise what it was that she was trying to say to him.

Very slowly, he frowned and looked down.

He knew already that Berserker didn't want to help them, she had made that clear, and he was basically the one forcing her to come along with his requests.

And worse was that he didn't know what he was going to do now and whether it would be a good thing or not.

It would help Surtr and Sinmara.

It would hurt lots of people.

Whichever choice he made, whatever he did, someone was going to get hurt over it.

Raising his hands, he ran them through his hair and over his horns.

He'd been and spoken with both Sinmara and Surtr now, he'd seen their pain directly and that had been it. If he ignored them now, then it would be to ignore the things he had seen but he wasn't sure he could do that.

Wasn't sure he would want to do that either.

Pacing away from Berserker, he reached out and placed his hands flat against the wall for support.

Everything felt painful.

Like he was never going to be able to make a good choice.

…Is this what Berserker meant by cruel?

One way or another, he would probably end up hurting someone or working against them.

Ah, if he did nothing…then he would leave Ophelia alone as well.

"It's painful, isn't it?"

Berserker's words were sharp, like something sticking into his back.

"That strong urge and knowing you'll hurt someone no matter what you do."

Schmidt looked down.

Yes, it was painful.

It was painful not knowing what the right choice to make was, not being smart enough to know all of the choices that were there. Maybe if it was someone else they would know what to do.

He was sure it might have only been because of him that this was so complicated.

If it was anyone else, they would have made the right choice…

…But it was only him here.

Only him here with all of these choices and not knowing which was the right one to pick.

"This is what I've been telling you about with these foolish actions of yours, it'll only cause pain."

That shouldn't be the case though.

It shouldn't have been this complicated, he didn't understand why it had to be the case.

"Why?" With a small voice, he turned his head very slowly to the right and just enough that he could see Berserker in the corner of his gaze.

She wasn't looking at him, instead she just sat there and examined her hands.

"Because that is ultimately what all of this stupidity inevitably gets you."

There was a detached casualness with her words.

"And why it would do you some good to at last listen to the words I have been trying to drill into your head since this chaotic endeavour first began."

Raising her head, she looked at him.

"Leave it alone."

He wasn't sure he could anymore.

Rather, he wasn't sure if there was ever a chance of him doing that.

He didn't want to.

The thought hadn't even entered his head of turning around and not doing it anymore.

There was going to be someone he helped, he just needed to search for the right way of helping everyone so that no one got hurt out of this.

If it was at all possible for that to even be a thing.

Drawing a deep breath, Schmidt stepped back.

"...I'm…worried."

Worried? No, that was not the right word.

"I'm scared."

Yes, that was it.

Turning and looking around to Berserker directly, he stared at her with wide eyes as the realisation came crashing down on him.

It was not just confusion.

He was…afraid?

As he placed his hand on his chest, right above his heart, he could feel it hammering faster and faster.

Much faster than he had ever noticed it before.

That was it.

He was scared he was going to do something wrong, that whatever choice he made next would be the wrong one.

That's why he wanted an answer.

He wanted to make a choice that wouldn't terrify him.

"Berserker…I don't know what to do…"

She stared back at him, expression blank.

"What…should I do?"

Just an answer.

He just needed things to be made clear for him.

"Please…"

Berserker blinked very slowly at him, face twisting. It at first started like a thin line and grew out into a frown.

Her eyes bore into his own for what felt like a long time.

A very long time.

"Turn around and leave."

And just as soon as she said that, she closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat and went quiet once again.

That was all she said.

That was her answer.

Schmidt opened his mouth to say something - anything - and then found himself going quiet.

Nothing came out of him.

He could say nothing.

Turn around and leave?

…He…didn't know if he could do that.

Ophelia was better prepared this time.

The air wasn't nearly as suffocating as it had been before.

Now that she knew what loomed in the darkness ahead of her, it was less daunting. Perhaps less so than her own thoughts as to what would happen if she were to fail.

Rather, the thought of failure no longer crossed her mind.

Some distant thing that lacked relevance now.

Ironically enough, there was only one solution for her.

Stepping forwards, she moved ahead of all the others and right through the doors.

Into the thick plumes of smoke.

Then she stopped, arms folding behind her back and heart pounding in her ears.

No matter what happened next, this was the only choice she had available to her for this to work. Or rather, if there was another option, she had long since cut it off the moment she had come up with this idea.

Perhaps that was fitting.

As she came to a stop, she glanced around the chamber with narrowed eyes, waiting for the slightest hint of movement.

Schmidt had been here earlier, so she assumed that neither Sinmara nor Surtr would have gotten far, so she doubted she would be long in waiting at all for anything.

"Well."

The sudden proximity of the voice turned her head, turning sharply towards the approaching shadow as it emerged from the darkness.

Smoke parted and like a moving diamond, she strode through into the open with her hands clasped.

"Lady Sinmara."

Formalities were observed, bowing her head in respect and bringing it back up.

"Your dragon friend came around earlier, I assume without your knowledge."

Ophelia thinned her lips. "If he caused offence-"

"He did not."

Sinmara interrupted her, eyes sweeping over them all and searching for something.

"And I should note that he is not currently with you now."

With a shrug of the shoulders, her expression twitched and raised her brow.

"Are these matters related?"

"He chose to remain behind and discuss something."

The interest in Schmidt was curious indeed, but that was not what she had come here to discuss with them. Rather, she had hoped to put the discussion to rest.

So she did that.

"You wished for a solution to your current dilemma."

As she expected, the interest that Sinmara showed in her words was immediate. It was as if she had gone perfectly still for not more than a handful of seconds, but when she at last moved, it was with narrowed eyes and no small amount of suspicion.

"A problem which troubles us for centuries and you find a solution in no more than, what? A mere handful of minutes?"

While it was admittedly dubious when said aloud, she was here to provide actual solutions.

"Then think of me as uniquely qualified for this problem, if it should be of a comfort to you."

"I would be more comforted with proof."

Ophelia nodded her head up and down.

A reasonable request.

"Proof of concept exists already, as you have doubtless come to know of."

"Have I?"

Yes, they had.

"Sacred Gears."

Sinmara dropped her arms down to her side, staring at her rather blankly for a few moments, then closed her eyes and exhaled.

"Sacred-" Her words were cut short by a louder sigh - rather more aggravated - she raised her hand and ran it across her face and up her brow into her hair. "Your solution is Sacred Gears."

Ophelia nodded her head and raised her hands. "The principle of the matter, the placement of a soul within a container, rather than the creation of a Gear itself. That is what I am proposing to you."

It was a matter of being allowed the time to explain.

Sinmara appeared dubious and rightfully so.

All Ophelia needed was to convince her of the plausibility of it.

"Placing the essence of a powerful being within a container, although the key difference here being that they would have the opportunity for freedom at the appropriate juncture."

Sinmara sucked in a breath and opened her mouth to speak.

Ophelia beat her to it.

"Surtr's body remains here and under watch, whereas his essence and soul is removed and taken far from this place. He can then be smuggled into Asgard through other means and then released when the time is right."

The pale woman folded her arms, scowling deeply.

"Released into what, might I ask?"

Hand on her head, she pulled it away as if dragging a thought from her temple.

"A flaw to this genius plan of yours, supposing you might even find a way of extracting my husband from his body - as you have neglected to provide evidence as to how you might accomplish this - is that he would have nothing to be released into."

Stomping forwards, Ophelia held her ground as the woman was right in her face.

There was no anger, fortunately for her, but there was a rather large degree of irritation.

Certainly indignation.

Weathering that was harder than she thought it would have been, at least enough to maintain a straight face.

"He would be in Asgard as little more than an essence without a body, what could he accomplish then?"

Ophelia inclined her brow.

"By the time he is in Asgard, then I assume the transport of his body to his actual self would be a matter of ease, would it not?"

Sinmara said nothing in response to that, the irritation started to bleed away and was replaced only by a tight pull of the lips.

Proof that she was making progress, at least.

"Furthermore, once Surtr is truly in Asgard - even as a mere essence - then he would already be on the path of fulfilling the prophecy. At which point he would regain his former strength and could assist in drawing his body to himself. If that should not be enough to convince you, know that you would also have support during the transitionary period."

White eyes flicked with some small degree of uncertainty.

She pressed further.

"To say nothing of what Loki would be capable of achieving once Surtr's cooperation is assured."

As she understood it, that was the primary stipulation of winning over Loki's assistance.

Sinmara's expression was tight now.

It was clear that whatever indignation she had built up was clearly building away, but as she had said, she required proof of concept.

"Naturally, you would be concerned that you cannot transport Surtr out of Muspelheim without a suitable container, yes?"

As expected, that was enough to earn a minute nod of the head.

To that, Ophelia slowly reached up and started to unwind the binding around her eye, slipping it down from her head and looking right at the pale woman.

"A container which is already available."

With pinched brows and a tight frown, Sinmara's eyes switched towards the mystic eye and squinted at.

She could see the gears visibly turning in the eyes of the woman, the way they narrowed in thought. Leaning away from her, the woman took several steps backwards and crossed her arms under her chest, rolling her jaw from side to side and then sucking in a deep breath.

"...And how do you suppose you would be able to move him there?"

Oddly enough, she imagined that might well be one of the easiest answers to her questions.

"I was under the impression that the runes of the Norse Pantheon are rather versatile, are they not?"

That was to say if their power had not been exaggerated.

Sinmara was then turning around and pacing away and back into the darkness.

Vanishing without a word, Ophelia kept her expression stiff as the woman retreated away.

The lack of a dismissal was something she considered to be a success.

Or rather, she would have thought that was how it would have gone. Yet just before Sinmara could vanish entirely into the darkness, she stopped still.

With a swift turn about, the uncertainty on her face was stronger than before.

"Even if the Runes could be capable of that, it has been long since he possessed the strength to do anything of the sort to what you propose. Unless you have a means of-"

"A reality in which he cannot perform the action is a reality I shall reject."

Sinmara went silent.

Yes, because that was something she was capable of.

If there was a chance, no matter how slim, that Surtr could succeed in moving his essence into her mystic eye, then that was a reality that she could turn into a certainty.

"Ah. I see."

Then Sinmara lowered her hands down, the unease seemed shallower than it had been earlier, her tongue darted out and wet her lips.

To Ophelia, she was aware of the irony.

The thumping in her heart was growing slower and slower, all of it felt as though it was dropping into place as if she were assembling a giant puzzle.

On the other end, it looked as if the Jotunn woman was starting to become more nervous as the seconds ticked past. Though it might well have been a trick of the dim lighting, she was certain that she could see flakes of light reflected off the brow of the woman.

Did it make her feel more assured of herself that she was visibly causing a reaction of uncertainty in her opposite number?

Perhaps, but she refused to let herself succumb to overconfidence.

"Beyond that, there is a matter that Lugh wishes to discuss with you."

To that, she stepped aside and allowed the God to step forwards.

"You leave me with quite the show to follow up, you realise this." Lugh muttered to her as he stepped past.

Well, she was aware of that much but she was living up to her requirements as she understood it.

"Understanding that this has been a difficult situation for you…though now approaching you with this feels as though it would be rather bewildering-"

"I am decidedly low on patience for word play."

Sinmara sounded bereft of emotion.

"Speak quickly, if you would be so kind."

Lugh exhaled, arms dropping to his side.

If she were to dare to think as such, she would have said he looked brow beaten.

"As you wish, it was mostly in assurance that our two factions would have remained on good terms with one another after whatever it is that happens between yourselves and the-"

Sinmara raised her hand.

Her eyes closed and it looked, for a second, that she was going to smile.

If only for a second.

Throwing her hands up, she turned around and started to let out a rather incredulous chuckle.

"T-trade? You're here to talk to me and my husband and me about trade?"

"Yes, well." With a wry chuckle, Lugh dropped his hands to his hips and shrugged his shoulders. "I had intended to come here and speak with you about trade, yet I was rather unaware of what was going on until I got here."

Sinmara scowled, looking rather offended. "You mean to say that you came here without the slightest idea of-"

"I jest."

Lugh cut in, dropping the smile in his words.

"I suspected and the confirmation was certainly appreciated, but I would hardly say I stumbled here while blind."

"And you would still talk about trade?"

"I am saying that whatever remains of your people after this shall formally be taken under the wing of our faction."

That made Sinmara stop short, her eyes widened considerably. "...what?"

Lugh inclined his head. "Do I have your attention now?"

Ophelia was certainly a little shocked, especially with this proposal and what it would mean for them.

As she understood it, they were more vested in protecting their neutrality than-

"Our neutrality comes with defending our allies."

Jolting at the words, she watched as Lugh turned and cast her a look over his shoulder.

"And it is with the Jotunns, not Asgard, that we are allied with. Whatever business they have with them is a matter for Surtr and whomever chooses to follow him. For those who wish not to be drawn into a War, they might find refuge within our borders…especially regarding the nature of Surtr."

Sinmara was silent for a moment, lowering her arms back down and composing herself once more.

"The other lords would stand by this?"

Lugh chuckled. "They will when I tell them it is what we are doing. Besides, consider it a good turn for the kindness you showed the Fomorians, if there is a need to have it explained further."

Ah, now she understood.

Or rather, she understood the emotional aspect behind all of this.

Sinmara slowly nodded her head. "I…believe those terms sound acceptable."

Clapping his hands, Lugh stepped back.

"Excellent. Now then, I believe that it is time for a certain someone to take the stage once more and then we might put this little adventure to rest and be out of one another's hair before someone else takes notice, mmmh?"

There was no need for further reminders.

She stepped forwards once again, her eye burning, and turned her gaze past that of Sinmara and towards the pinpricks of light that resided just above her.

Long since the conversation began, those pale lights had been set aflame in the dark and had never once dulled through it all. She could feel the weight of the stare and the conscious thought behind it all.

"What say you to my plan?"

Raising her voice, she called out into the shadow.

A rumble answered her, the darkness banished as flames surged through the cracked rock and moulded skin.

The mountain in the shape of a person leaned forwards and over them all, scalding breath dripped down from the gaping mouth, the eyes which had been little more than embers turned into bonfires of heat. Veritable furnaces shot from them as any doubt of Surtr's conscious thoughts were banished in that one second.

"Ophelia…"

Surtr breathed her name out.

"Are you…strong…enough…to hold…me?"

Was she strong enough?

That was always a matter of debate between herself.

Yet regardless of her own thoughts as to whether she was strong enough, that was never to be in doubt.

"I have to be."

Just long enough that everything could work out fine, then she could last just as long as that was needed.

"Hmmmphm."

It was a noise almost like that of a laughter, a curl of the cracked lips which might have almost been called a laugh.

Yet it ultimately revealed itself to be neither, Surtr pulled an arm from the shadows and held it upright.

Very slowly, she could see the finger trace along the surface of the air, the very tip of the golden digit set aflame the very space before it as it was dragged along. Her reverie of the movement lasted very little time, she pulsed her eye and felt the sting.

"I do not observe thy brilliance."

And then it burst with life, the pain that she was so familiar with - as though a hammer had been driven through her skull - shot into her once more and she clenched her hands hard by her side.

She could see it now, the possibilities where the rune would fail.

Or rather, the potentials of failure.

Yet she would see none of those, instead there was only what she wished to see.

The rune burned strong as all else fell away except for what she desired, the outcome that was only possible now. The potential failure was removed and the symbols which Surtr carved fell deep into his body and burned through - right into the heart of flame - and swirled around.

Surtr slumped backwards, a choked gasp tore through him as his body seized.

Acutely, she became aware of a sudden rumbling around her, an earthquake which started as little more than a mere tremor and was now a roar in her ears.

Her body shuddered from side to side, fighting to keep her balance as her gaze remained firmly planted on the chest of Surtr.

His face, what she could see of it, twisted in a rictus of pain.

Jaw clenched and eyes brighter than ever before, he seethed from behind shut teeth and blasted winds of scorching heat out with every passing second.

The pulsing of his chest, the beating of his heart, grew brighter and brighter.

At first, she was left bewildered as to what it was that was happening.

At first, that was.

Until she realised it was not that the light in his chest was getting brighter, it was merely that it was growing closer.

Pulling away from the wall, his body arched and his mouth flew open, head turning upwards to the sky as his chest was yanked forwards until it could extend no further, yet the pulling did not fade. Surtr continued to cough and gasp as the brilliant orb that might once have been his heart was pulled even further.

With such resistance, something had to give.

And then it did.

The light tore free of his body in a single movement and then his great form - the mountainous figure carved from stone - went cold and still.

Frozen in their posture, head turned to the sky, they locked up as the very statue they had once appeared to be.

The burning orb hovered like a miniature sun and burned with the same brightness, except it was growing closer and closer to her. Ophelia felt as though her skin had been set aflame - every inch of her person was swarmed in agony - and she dared not turn away from it.

It was painful.

It was agonising.

Truly, it was nothing like she could have ever expected.

All she wanted to do, all she could think of, was letting her screams tear free of her throat as the sensation of being burned alive dominated her every waking thought.

But…she didn't.

She could not.

Bracing herself as best she could, she was acutely aware of the expectations upon her, the expectations she had placed upon herself.

Pain was something that she knew, it was something she was accustomed to.

There was no progress without pain.

This was fine.

It was all for his sake, after all.

And if it was for his sake, then it would all be-

"aaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Even if it was for his sake.

Even then.

The moment the shrinking orb made contact with her eye, the eye that would contain it, she understood her folly.

Had she truly thought she had experienced pain until now?

Was she truly so arrogant into believing that she could stomach the agony that awaited her?

There were no words to describe it.

There was nothing conscious about her mind in that moment.

There was only the pain.

Only the burning.

All within her eye and it kept going, it was such an agony that she could not even retreat into unconsciousness, for the moment she felt as though she might truly do that, her mind was dragged back kicking and screaming.

It was awful.

It was horrible.

…But she kept conscious through it.

And when it at last ended, she dropped down to her knees, hands flat against the cold floor.

The tremors had long stopped and something was hissing.

A searing sound, like cold water on a hot grill.

And it was ever so loud, the only sound she could hear.

…Was that her eye making that noise?

Or was it her tears burning before they ever escaped?

That must have been the case, she thought rather simply, as the steam built up across the right side of her face.

That truly…must have been the answer.

Something cold cupped her cheeks, pulling her upwards.

Ophelia lacked the strength to fight it, instead she was dragged up and held there as Sinmara peered deep into her right eye.

Expression searching, but that barely registered to her.

The intentions of the woman barely registered, it was just as if there was nothing left for her to care about at the moment.

"...He's there…"

Words breathed out so quietly, shock and surprise.

"He's really…"

Someone gripped and pulled her from the cold hands, there was a hold on her body that lifted her up and off her feet. Ophelia flopped about without weight of her own, head turning ever so slightly until she fell upon her carrier.

…Had she ever been carried like this before…?

"Our business is concluded."

"M-mmmh?"

Was someone speaking…?

That sounded like Susa-il…

"And we shall be taking our leave now."

There was the sensation of moving before she heard anyone say anything, barely able to open her mouth-

"Do not speak, you lack the strength for that."

Ophelia wanted to argue against that, but nothing but a croak escaped her.

Instead she closed her eyes and ignored the burning in her right as she did so, as if she had trapped hot coals under her eyelid.

"One moment."

…The feeling was gone.

Ophelia opened her eyes as the sensation vanished, instead there was a cold touch on her brow and she looked up through dazed eyes at the palm moving away from her forehead, staring at the retreating hand and then towards the skull mask hovering over her.

"Healing was not a skill I held in abundance, but I can provide some small relief."

…She could do that…but…why…?

"You have done all you set out to do, Ophelia Phamrsolone."

The words were different to her usual tone.

…Almost gentle…

…Even kind…

How strange.

It was different to how she spoke with Schmidt.

This sounded…proud…?

"You are indeed a capable soul."

The words continued as they moved, the mask turned away from her and ahead.

"Now you must rest your eyes. We shall return to base with news of your success."

Her success…?

They still needed to…do…

…Rest, she said?

Yes…that sounded rather nice…

Just a little…