Chaos God 6, page 16
part #6 of Chaos God Series
“That’s fucking cool,” I murmured at the genius little trick.
Now the room was filled with the strange green light, and I was able to let my night vision fade away. The space was filled with wooden crates, and I picked one at random to start having a look inside.
The first crate was filled with silk clothing items that were the finest quality material I’d ever felt in my life. I thought they were bright colors like gemstones, but the green light made everything look green, so it was hard to tell.
The second crate had hand-written books in that same language I’d seen above Njord’s cell in the depths of Helheim. I glanced at a few, and then I set them aside, and I moved on to the next crate.
This one shocked me with its contents.
It was filled with baby clothes. Tiny lace and cotton robes and gowns that looked like they were made for a doll. There were little bundles of hair like I’d seen in old scrapbooks in movies. It was hard to tell the colors, but there were four different shades of hair, and one looked dark enough to be black.
“Nari, Hel, Sleipnir, and Fenrir,” I assumed as I remembered Loki’s four children.
I closed the crate back up and moved back to the one filled with the diaries. I picked one at random and flipped through the pages for a moment.
The words were absolute gibberish to my eyes, but then they began to shimmer like a mirage. I blinked repeatedly at the curious movement, and after one blink, the letters suddenly made sense to me.
“What the fuck is that?” I wondered.
The words were youthful and eloquent, and the author wrote about a youth of privilege and opulence. One passage mentioned Thor as “my brother,” and that confirmed my suspicions that these were Loki’s personal journals.
Loki wrote about the tricks he used to play on Thor, the way his brother’s temper always brought about years of silence between them, and explosive rage from his blond brother. I closed the diary and picked up another that had much more refined penmanship, and I discovered it was from Loki’s young adult years. He spoke about meeting his wife and how he loved her, but he desired more adventure in his life.
I put that journal down and picked up another, and the words shimmered and began to make sense just as the previous ones had.
This journal spoke about Loki’s children, and I spotted the four names I’d expected written in simple passages. Loki seemed to adore his children each for their own unique personalities. He wrote about how Fenrir was a source of mischief like himself, and how Sleipnir had inherited his love for Odin.
There were several passages about Sylmarie in between the others, and it was clear through Loki’s words that he had a passion for her unlike any of his other lovers. He wrote about Sylmarie like she was some kind of angel sent to guide him, and I could see her easily through his eyes.
I couldn’t help but agree with Loki’s assessment of the Völva’s marvelous personality and exquisite beauty.
Then there was a heart-wrenching passage about the death of Nari, and the ink was splotched where a few tears had fallen on the page. I found myself hurting for the long-dead Aesir and the loss he’d had to endure at the hands of his father.
I found myself starting to despise the actions of Odin Allfather as I read about them from Loki’s words.
“Fucker,” I sighed as I laid that journal back in the crate, and I selected another.
It started with a passage much like the others, about something Sylmarie had done to impress Loki, though he didn’t give any specific details. Then the handwriting began to descend into anger and blind rage. The words were splattered messily across the pages, and it snared my interest to see the strength of Loki’s emotions.
“‘My father has gone too far this time,’” I read out loud. “‘My heart weeps with pain for the child I have lost. My child, who will have no name, and will be lost from his family for all eternity. Cold rage burns like a frost giant’s breath in my heart, and I will never be able to look upon my father’s face again without battling the desire to strike him down where he stands.’ Oh, shit…”
Loki went on to write that what his father had done to this unnamed child was the worst betrayal he could have ever committed. He didn’t write what Odin did, but I knew this was exactly what that creature in the chasm had spoken about.
“‘My child is out there,’” I read. “If he even still lives, he is likely in the cold and dark, alone and terrified, and there is nothing I can do to bring him home. I have searched for years, and there is no trace of the child. I long to see his green eyes once more, and the precious pattern of his scales.’ Scales? What?”
I was utterly confused by that for a second before the pieces started to click together, and I remembered how Loki had a horse and a wolf for a child. A snake wasn’t exactly out of the question, and I nearly dropped the diary on the floor as I realized.
“Holy fucking shit,” I gasped. “The hissing creature is Loki’s lost child.”
I was lost in shock and disbelief for a long moment, and I thought about Loki’s symbol again. Two snakes looped on each other, and one was slightly smaller than the other.
I skipped ahead a few pages for more information until Sylmarie’s name flashed like a neon sign on the page.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Loki wrote how if he’d still had a heart that was whole enough to feel, it would have been broken by what he had to do to his beloved Sylmarie.
“Aw, shit,” I sighed.
I went on to read how Loki had no other choice but to do exactly what I’d suspected him of doing. He admitted to blocking Sylmarie’s sight from the child before Odin’s betrayal in an attempt to protect his serpent child from the Allfather. Loki wrote how he was heartbroken that his attempt to protect the child had been exactly what now prevented him from finding the child.
“‘My own hubris has brought about the destruction of a baby who never had the chance to truly live,’” I read aloud. “‘I curse the words of Mirmir who, in combination with my own short-sightedness, has condemned my child to a life of isolation.’”
As far as I was concerned, I had all the facts I needed now. The creature in the chasm was some kind of snake, I was sure of it, and it was the lost child of Loki. He’d blocked the child from Sylmarie’s sight in an attempt to protect the creature from the wrath he knew Odin would feel, and yet it had all backfired. It was horrible to think of trying everything I could to protect one of my children, only for it all to blow up in my face.
I couldn’t imagine doing anything to betray one of my lovers, though, and I hoped to never be put in such a position to have to choose. I felt for Loki, which I hadn’t expected before after hearing so many tales of him, but now, I could feel his remorse and frustration so acutely. Every inch of my bones could acknowledge his own suffering in all this, but I also hated him for making such a mess of things. It sounded like he’d had a little too much of Odin in him, and he’d let his passions get the best of him in this situation.
Then the forceful pressure in my mind that had driven me all night long finally eased and there was nothing but absolute exhaustion left in me after that. I closed the journal, and I tucked it into the waistband of my pants. I couldn’t bring everything up from this room tonight, but there was no way I was going to leave this diary down here.
Not after everything I’d done to find it.
A team of workers could help me bring the rest up another time, but for now, I needed to get back upstairs before I passed out from exhaustion. I sighed heavily as I closed the crates back up, and I left the room.
The sand that had tried to bury me alive had mostly fallen down into the trench, and the rest ground under my bare feet as I walked through the two rooms to the long hallway. One I arrived back at the gap where the wooden ramp had been, I shifted into my hawk form because it was the easiest to take without expending much more energy.
I flew the rest of the way out of the basement until I found myself back in the hidden storage room. Then I sighed as my body tiredly returned to my natural state, and I rubbed my hands over my eyes. With my bare foot, I closed the trapdoor, and I stumbled into my room where my ladies were still soundly asleep.
The sky outside my balcony was still black in the depths of the night, and I climbed into bed with relief that I would get at least a few hours of sleep before the sun rose.
My sleep was plagued by dreams of the lost child in the depths of Niflheim, and the sounds of hissed words kept echoing through my mind.
My heart was filled with pity as I dreamed of a small snake who was lost and scared like Loki had imagined his lost child to be. The urge to destroy the creature was gone, and all I could feel was a desire to help the lost soul of someone who’d been betrayed by their family.
“I want to help you!” I called out. “Let me help you!”
“Leave me,” the voice hissed. “I shall never trust you again. This is your fault. Your foolish choices brought us to this.”
The serpent spoke to me as I imagined he would have spoken to his father, and I was racked with guilt at the whole thing.
I could hear the steady thumping of the serpent’s heart as I tried to find him in the cold darkness, but the thumping turned into a knock.
“King Levi?” a familiar female voice called from outside my bedroom door.
I woke alone in my bed to the sounds of Ingrid knocking on my door, and I forced my eyelids open.
“Ugh,” I groaned.
Chapter 12
“King Levi?” Ingrid called again, and I could hear the apology in her voice through my sleep-fogged brain. “I hate to wake you, your majesty…”
“I’m coming,” I called, and I forced my exhausted body out of the bed.
My ladies were awake and gone from the room, and a quick glance outside told me it was several hours later than I usually woke up. Elora, Freesia, and Shalanna must have left me sleeping, and I mentally thanked them for their thoughtfulness.
I was still wearing the clothes I’d explored the secret basement tunnels in, and a few grains of sand scattered off the hem of my pants as I walked across the room. I grimaced as the events of the night before flashed across my mind, and I opened the door to see Ingrid with a regretful frown on her face.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, your majesty,” Ingrid answered. “I apologize, but Lady Elora said I should wake you… There are several dark elves at the castle. They’ve come for supplies and tools.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, and my worry turned to relief. “That’s good. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“I am terribly sorry for waking you, my king,” Ingrid murmured.
“No, no.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m glad you did. I’d feel like a useless schlump if I’d slept the whole day away.”
“Lady Elora told me to mention…” Ingrid said, and her face relaxed a bit. “Lyrie is among the dark elves.”
“Oh,” I breathed as a bit of youthful excitement joined in with the hurricane of other emotions I was feeling. “Thank you.”
Ingrid offered me a slight smile before she turned and walked downstairs.
I closed the door and was pleased to find fresh water in the basin and pitcher we used for our morning hygiene routines. Sometimes I missed the luxuries I’d had on Earth, but all in all, I’d grown accustomed to the simpler way of doing things.
I splashed the water on my face and cleaned myself up a bit with a fresh length of linen. Then I got dressed in fresh clothes, and I dropped my sand-covered things into the pile to be laundered. I slid my leather sandals onto my feet, and I ran my fingers through my hair.
I picked up the diary that held all of Loki’s most painful secrets, and I considered leaving it in the room somewhere. That didn’t feel safe to me for some reason, though, so I tucked it into my waistband as I left the room. The small mirror fit nicely in the little cubby shelf on the bottom half of my bedside table, though, so I tucked it there for safekeeping. I knew the mirror was unlikely to immediately give away any big secrets.
The sounds of several voices echoed out from the dining hall as I descended the staircase to greet my guests, and I was welcomed into the room by many voices.
Lyrie’s white hair caught my attention like a beacon in the night, and I was surprised at how good it felt to see her again so soon. She was seated comfortably at a table with Elora, Shalanna, Freesia, and Sylmarie, and they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company over a pleasant breakfast.
I also spotted Kine, Ivaran, and about six other dark elves I recognized by face alone at the tables nearby.
I walked over to the two tables where my ladies sat with Lyrie, and I nodded at the male elves at the next table over.
“Good morning, King Levi,” Ivaran greeted me.
“Hello, Ivaran,” I replied. “My housekeeper told me you’re here for supplies.”
“Yes,” Ivaran said. “I do hope that is acceptable.”
“Of course,” I said. “I told you you’re welcome here any time.”
“Thank you, King Levi.” Ivaran smiled, and his white teeth shone brightly in his dark face.
“Please, enjoy your breakfast,” I said. “I’ll make sure my blacksmith, Hezzig, and my housekeeper, Ingrid, find you. They can help you with whatever supplies and tools you need.”
Ivaran nodded with gratitude, and he sat back down at the table with the other dark elves who’d come to the castle.
Lyrie tried to hide the fact that she was staring at me from the table of my ladies, but her black eyes felt like lasers on my face. There was no way I wasn’t going to notice the warmth of her stare.
I spotted Hezzig in the room, and I gave him a little wave to let him know I wanted to speak with him. The bald blacksmith nodded and gestured that he would be over to my table in a moment.
Frida was sitting at the ready beside Shalanna, and her shark tail wagged just a tiny bit behind her as she silently begged for table scraps from my ladies.
Lyrie seemed entirely comfortable to be seated beside the ferocious-looking animal, and I could only assume my ladies had assured her how docile Frida was with my people.
“Good morning,” I murmured as I sat down at the table between Elora and Shalanna. “How did you all sleep?”
“Better than you, I suspect,” Elora said in a lightly chiding voice. “When did you finally come to bed, my love?”
“I’m not sure,” I sighed. “It was late. Thank you for letting me sleep in this morning.”
“All the demons of the world could not have woken you this morning,” Shalanna said in a dry tone as she tossed a scrap of fish to Frida.
The dwarven blacksmith laughed loudly at something his companion said as he walked across the dining hall toward me. He looked to be in very good spirits this morning, and I knew a smithing order would only enhance his mood.
He’d been toying around with all the tustrium we’d discovered buried in the Black Plains, and I was glad to see how much joy the bald dwarf got from returning to his craft full-time. Hezzig had already crafted several small daggers and short swords out of the bluish metal to test its purity levels and get reacquainted with the material. He’d told me he hadn’t had the joy of working with the durable and light material since before Ragnarok, and it was clear he’d missed using the finest metal this world had to offer.
“King Levi,” Hezzig said when he reached our table. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s not me,” I said as I leaned back in my chair. “The dark elves need supplies and tools. Ivaran?”
“Yes, King Levi?” the red-eyed elf replied, and he leaned toward us.
“This is Hezzig, our blacksmith. Hezzig, this is Ivaran,” I said to the dwarven blacksmith. “He can tell you what they need. Make sure they have everything we can supply them with.”
“Certainly, your majesty.” Hezzig grinned. “I have a wealth of tools already, but I will be happy to forge whatever else you may need. It is an honor and a pleasure to make new friends.”
“For us as well,” Ivaran said with a smile. “Would you care to sit with us so we may discuss our needs?”
“An excellent idea.” Hezzig grinned, and the broad-shouldered dwarf sat right down with the dark elves.
I smiled at the way the vastly different men began to talk animatedly about construction techniques and the different tools that would suit their projects. It warmed my heart to see the dark elves welcomed so openly into our community, and I knew Lyrie would be pleased by it as well.
I turned back to the table and found Sylmarie looking at me with a weird expression, and the journal in my waistband suddenly felt like a hundred-pound weight.
Freesia and Shalanna were talking about how my very pregnant lover would feel in the coming weeks as we approached the birth of my first child, and Elora was fully engrossed in the conversation as well. Lyrie listened politely, but Sylmarie seemed entirely uninterested in the conversation.
Suddenly, my mind was completely occupied by the events of last night, and I replayed the series of puzzles and deadly challenges I’d fought through for the information in my possession.
I had to tell Sylmarie what I’d discovered, and I knew I had to do it soon before she saw it in my mind. Loki’s words kept trying to force their way into the forefront of my mind like a broken record, but I continued to shove them away. It was going to be hard enough for Sylmarie to learn what I now knew, and I wanted to break the news as gently as possible to her.
I promised myself I would tell her today, and as soon as I thought the words, the seeress narrowed her dark blue eyes at me.
Sylmarie watched me closely, but she didn’t make a move to get up from the table as I forced breakfast down my throat.
Nothing about the last day kept my appetite intact, but I made myself eat anyway. Losing my strength from the stress of having to break the news of a horrible betrayal to the beautiful woman across from me wouldn’t do anyone a bit of good.
I dragged my thoughts into the present, and I focused hard on the conversation of the other ladies at the table.
“What about Saleh?” Elora suggested. “One of my Valkyrie sisters was named Saleh, and she was a force to be reckoned with.”
