4Legends άνοιγμα [Anoigma]*
The gods tittered with anticipation and gossip, the last facets of their mortal lives bringing them together once more in a way that even their responsibility to mankind could not. Suddenly "retired" from their godship, their previous petty difference held no sway over them and even bitter enemies were now tolerable to one another, showing respect if not amity. Until, of course, a problem arose.
Suddenly, three of the gods were banding together, two from their own religion, one an idealistic youth as the others thought of her, and demanding that the gods become involved again. Long ago, thousands of years ago, the gods had lifted their hands from the believers and non-believers alike, and made a pact together to make it known to ALL that the mortal affairs would no longer affect them, even if it be one of their half-own. Too late for the mortals was what it was thought and the seal was set. It could not be broken, it would not be broken; or so the gods thought.
The seal was placed before the threat of the Kappa, the thirteen who would drink the blood of a holy man and place excretions in his lifeless skin; yes, they lived for desecration, or so it seemed and, for the idealistic, the opportunity to rid the realms of the Kappa was right. And, it was common knowledge that the very gods were targets next. Many of the gods could not singularly stand up for themselves should an all-out battle occur. Thousands of their number would die.
"Oh, come! Your leader, the one who would but give you light agrees with the situation! Attack now or we all die! Sooner or later, after drinking the blood of our kin, they will be far too powerful to be stopped! A seal upon the gods is useless – we made the seals and cast them recklessly upon the mortals and they broke them! Could not our whole number do the same and far easier?" one goddess stood and yelled, beseeching the others, her flowing locks of russet barely contained with a braid, curling strands framing her youthful face.
"Breaking a seal is against our laws – it will bring chaos upon the realms if we should break that which is forbidden!" an aged god of the salt and sea roared, standing much the taller and more oppressive. "Whether or not we can do so is beyond thought – we should not be contemplating any further than how to fortify our walls!"
"The walls! The walls!" the cry was echoed again and again, led by another god of strength and muster but with a kind face. He turned to another seated on high. "Are the walls yet done? They were crumbled down of last but you said he would have them fixed, as he did for you before."
The god frowned and mumbled a bit, one powerful hand griping his spear, the other pulling the brim of his gray hat downwards before answering in a voice of power and knowledge, "I have tried in all my ways, in all my knowledge to unlock his mind and senses; I have used the eighteen spells, every last one of them, to make him do as he should and yet he perplexed me. I cannot force or persuade him to use his wit. It is my fear that those long years of imprisonment have caused him to lose his sanity."
A collective gasp rose and one goddess screeched piercingly, "He is insane then?"
The other nodded sagely, fingering the brim of his hat. "Indeed, he is. My work goes no further than his face and he merely laughs, speaking to his children." He reached down to pet a gray wolf at his feet, the other asleep, indifferent. "They don't hear him and he doesn't know that. It is truly a sad thing."
"Then what of them?" a shallow-faced god clothed in black demanded, pointing a finger accusingly, griping his staff tight. Next to him, a drab woman of radiant texture sobbed silently.
"What of them, what of them?" he was echoed by three woman about him.
"Surely one of them has their father's wit! All the others have had his strength or determination or malice and what do those two have? Barely his looks if that and not half his intelligence – one openly spites you!" the shallow-faced god roared.
"Peace, peace!" a fiery haired woman bellowed, all the strength and power within her as any of the others; she was one of the more powerful of the gods and flaunted it often. "We feud for nothing! The matter has already been forgotten! First, shut the upstarts down and then along with you with your lives! The three still have fire in their eyes – they mean to break the seal and damn our laws to chaos!"
The young goddess looked imploringly about her to the two who would support her. Verdant eyes from the crowd met hers and she glared, returning to the others. One side was met with confidence, the other frigid impassiveness. Her chocolate and silver rimmed eyes flashed supernaturally, a color hardly another possessed, and made more than one suppress a shudder.
"How can you be so cold?" she demanded icily, fists shaking with rage at her sides. "Be they your followers or no, you vain, pompous purveyors of sloth peace, languishing on your couches of self-satisfaction, those beings die out there." She swept a hand in their direction and screamed, "The people made you, sustained you! Now another fills that gap and you let the first worshippers perish? May they laugh at your memory and mock your shame," she snarled, glaring to the rhythmic stomping of footsteps upon the earth, a deadly dance rising.
"And may you be the first proclaimed traitor!" the fiery tongued and haired goddess roared, leaping to her feet and pointing, paralyzing the young goddess. Others surged forward but were stopped and barely so, the steps increasing with rapidity even as others attempted to stop it. "Demanding this, challenging that, and heaping upon INSULTS! You'll be placed to a torture-chamber of insanity – like as the Sly One!"
"CEASE YOUR DOG-YAPPING!" a voice bellowed, a goddess of malicious destruction streaking from the crowd, the skulls about her waist clattering with her movements. "KILL HER AND THE MUTINY DIES WITH HER!"
The assembly erupted in chaos as the dance finished and began to snake a wave of destruction to the goddess, the goddess of the skulls launching herself at the other to kill her, prepared to face the yew bow readily strung with a silver arrow, arm quivering to let it go.
Another flung herself in the pathway, throwing a bolt of light that illuminated the scene far from what it should have been, blinding the gods of the dark and night, their howls of pain rising and falling. She hung in the air, locks of raven flowing about her face, ebony eyes tinged with the fires of the sun pinning each down. Among the first of the gods, she was a source to not be crossed, and all would listen. But, she was one who demanded the breakage of the seal.
"This is not a mutiny, my friend," she began softly, lowering slowly to stand upon a throne as if it were a pedestal, arms crossed over her body so that they were straight and yet the hands crossed, flowing garments streaming about her. "This is merely a call to action as when the end came for our northern kin to the call of a trumpet. Many of you may not really know or acknowledge this but the Kappa will Tobu* soon, very soon, to us and would kill us as demons from the sun. This is what their leader, the Fiend, has told them and so it will be. They will kill many of us in the first attack and will make another for not all will be killed. Until the action of the kami* is one, they will never be gone. But I know that many of you will never be swayed," she looked to the eyes of those who would rebel against the cause, "so it is thus proposed: allowed the three of us," she gestured to each in turn, "to break the seal. Wait, wait," she quickly held up a hand, shaking her head. "I phrased that inadequately. What was meant was that we should be allowed to slip through the seal. With only three of the kami leaving this sealed realm, it won't react harshly and shatter; chaos will not ensue," she smiled kindly. "Please, my friend, allow us to do this. In the end, it may be the savior of all or the three of us will die in the attempt. Give us a yushosha*."
Quickly, the gods convened among themselves while the russet haired goddess smiled gratefully at the goddess of light, who nodded with a tiny smile in return. The decision was reached quickly, with several overruling the others, quick contests of strength quaking the hall, and gifts bestowed on the others to establish supremacy. Their messenger nodded his head solemnly and joy was reflected in the younger goddess' eyes.
"Who is this champion that you seek?" one of the gods, a male of extraordinary beauty with the piercing features of a falcon, one eye as silvery as the russet haired goddess', asked guardedly.
Her two companions turned to her and the sun goddess smiled. "He will be one of great strength of heart and body, though intellect will not necessarily matter, my friend. We will chose him soon enough but he is not required just yet. First, we must defeat the Kappa, then call upon the service of this yushosha. Do not fear: we will not choose one who will jeopardize the safety of the group. Do you agree with our right?"
Uncertain, the gods looked at one another. Though they had reached a general consensus, this demanded that they trust the goddess, a feat some deemed acceptable but a feat nonetheless. One by one, the elder of the gods voiced their opinion in a simple gesture with the head and the two-colored falcon god swallowed before stepping up to the three with the decision.
"You have our agreement, Amaterasu No Nihon*. We agree with your rights and hope," he paused thickly, "that you and your followers do not curse us all to the end. Go, within your rights."
Bowing humbly, she departed, beckoning the other two to follow, which the male did and the female took her time with hesitation before scurrying after the two, casting fleeting glances at the assembly.
"Let me see my father," the young man demanded, striding up towards the door, feathery white locks fluttering with him. He was abruptly stopped by the stinking stench of three sentinels, who slammed their spears into his face before the door. Gripping the edge of one tightly, jaw clenched in an effort to control himself, he glowered into the rank darkness of their cloaks. "Allow me to pass, you filth, or you will see the unleashed power of my father."
"Commaaand usss if you liiike, wolf son," another replied slowly, elongating his words with an effort of calm. "Youuuu have noooo authorityyyy overrrrr usss."
His hand was suddenly about the neck beneath the creature's cloak and his face was quickly drawn near the black thing, which could see the anger livid upon the wolf son's face. "I have FULL authority about here, you filth, by the decree of Odin and my kin! Allow me to pass and see my father or know what the end of eternity is."
"Youuuu follow Oooooodin?" the black creature asked, incredulous. "Siiiiince when do youuu servvvvvve him?"
"My servitude is not on question; let me through!"
The black creature fell quiet, looking at the spear ends pointed towards the wolf son's neck, near to nicking the flesh, and his breathing grew harsh. Feeling the other's rage grow and knowing his heritage he suddenly spoke, "Let him pass, as before." He was hurled to the ground as the other fled forward, throwing open the large gates and bolting inside, eager to see the image of his father again, though he knew not what he would find.
His father's chamber was flooded with light, feeble though it was in comparison to the glory of the true light, and all its rigid proportions was cast stark into the light. The thin light invaded the crevasses and corners, burying into the lice and disease-ridden pile of hay that served as a scanty mattress, illuminating the feverish scratch marks of fingernails upon stone, digging towards freedom. Dried blood covered in flies and rotting clumps of bloodied skin, sometimes harried by the rats and vermin that shared the prisoner's "home," glistened sickly.
In the center of this hellish and completely unsanitary confinement was the slumped form of a man, once lithe and powerful, though not unproportional insomuch or with great magnitude, now nearly lifeless and shackled to the floor and wall so that his head was thrust forward and down while his arms were nearly thrown from their sockets as they fought against gravity. He was filthy and bled slightly from the nibbles of the creatures in his chamber, unruly hair completely unkempt as it hid his still bleeding face, the small droplets slowly working towards the ground. Crouched somewhat against the wall, he was completely naked save for a few useless rags that neither hid his body from view nor protected him from anything.
The anger boiled within his already fiery veins quickly and the son threw himself at his father, rushing forward to embrace him and hide him from the shame of the world, swiftly marveling at its injustice. But, as before, he was quickly stopped by several of the immense black creatures that he just nearly dwarfed. Without thinking, he threw one aside before he found more about him and glistening spear edges, some newly or lately wet with his father's blood.
"Leave me to my father!"
"Youuuu do not havvvvvve the authooooooorityyyyy!"
"I have my rights! Quit denying me a chance with my father and LEAVE!"
Only silence met him as the others pondered his words.
Sighing, the son felt a headache growing and he suppressed an urge to voice it with a groan, instead falling upon cowardly means that he hated with all his being. "Odin will be MOST vexed if you do not allow me to move within my rights." His voice fairly hissed with poisons and threats, eyes slitting curiously, glittering in green and orange for a brief second.
"Moooooove, moooooove! Allow the wooooooolf son leeeeeeeave!" And the son was ringed, though loosely, and given room to move to his father, which he did immediately.
Two black creatures scurried before the young man's path and released his father's wrists from the cutting shackles, making the body fall forward without its crutch. The son caught his father in his arms, cradling his tangled head, and easily supported such a thin body, starved and riddled with malnutrition. He propped his father's face against the wall and drew the bedraggled hair back, biting down on his lip sharply enough to make it bleed as he beheld his father's face.
It was gaunt, horribly thin and contrasted sharply against his thick, heavy-set bone frame, seeming to pull his whole face downwards even as the blood ran in clumps, sprung from deep shave wounds about his cheeks and jaw. He was forbidden to be a man of his people so his facial hair was shaved, pulling whole lengths of skin away when he was; thus, the blood that ran. His face was a bloody mess, but it was his eyes that drew his son to pity and sorrow.
His eyes, once famed for their wit and vitality, were lifeless orbs with one, the right, sightless and milky. About them, his skin was wrinkled and burned with scar tissue crisscrossing and threatening to close his left. The venom of the snake had done its work, leaving him blind in the right with somewhat scarred skin and a damaged face towards the left. The scars were so deep that it was easy to understand why his roars of pain would vibrate the land and cause tremors.
"Father… father…" the son clung to the man he had once known as strong and kept himself from weeping though his sorrow ran deep and piercing. It was merely the thought of the foul creatures seeing his weakness that drove him to keep his sorrow within him even though he wished to express it. For several long minutes, the whispers of "… father… father…" echoed in the chill chamber before the white haired youth grew quiet.
Father… is it you, still alive within there?
There was a pause in which the son grew troubled and worry began to gnaw at him. What if his father were not still within his mind? What if, as the others had been so giddy to report, his mind was dead within the recesses of his tortured body? What if… what if…
I am here, my son. It has been long hasn't it? Are you still all right or has Odin won you as his pet?
He never could, Father! Though… brother…
My son? My son would never -!
Sadly, Father… But, never mind that; we are your sons and will persevere. Tell me, do you even know what has become of your physical body? Or have you burrowed yourself so deep within the recesses of your mind that your bodily pains do not even bother you in the least?
Bodily pains? What pains, my son?
You know nothing?
Nothing.
Leaning back a little, the young man took a deep breath, his eyes, so crimson and intelligent like his father's, trained to his father's dim countenance. Then I will tell you. You are blind in your right eye and your face is horribly scarred all about, mainly because they just about skin you in that excuse of a shave. You know, so you have no facial hair… You have very thin, too thin, in fact, and so bruised, cut, and injured it is a miracle that you are still alive.
Surprisingly, he was met with a rueful chuckle. No wonder you questioned if I was alive, my son. But, I had no clue of this and my mind, as sound and wicked as ever, still works faster than any of those halfwits that surround you.
I'm pleased to see you too, Father, he laughed before turning to the others, crimson eyes snapping to orange with rage. "What are you idiots here for? Come! Help me with him! He's to be cleaned and treated right, given food if he's able to take it!" Moving to lift up his father's arms he was met with the steely gray eyes of one of the creatures. "What of you?"
"He'ssss not to beeeee mooooooved, wooooooolf son!"
"I give the orders until I leave! Make haste and help me with him!"
It feels as though something were going on about you. What is it?
We're taking your body to be cleaned, Father. When we give you food, try to command your body to eat. You'll need food to keep surviving and not that filth they throw to you.
My son… my son… his father laughed, smiling within his mind. What a son you are.
I feel my strength returning to me; how different it is after feeling it gone!
We're back in your chamber. It has been cleaned and those… things have finally backed off.
You mean those ugly old black things? They're always around. How did you get them to even allow you in here time after time?
That's a secret, Father.
Ha hah! You are my son! Now, tell me, what has been going on? I recall the venom and the world in fire… Hah! It was all as I had planned it and then… what? I remember your mother being there and then it is all gone. Did you ever find out? Did they ever tell you?
Yes… the son sighed, rubbing one hand with the other. You were flooded with power, they said, and captured. It was widely spread to the people that you were killed. Then you were tortured, to what extent I don't know, and here you are. Your mistress… she's not among us anymore. I don't know how it happened; even Balder is back, but your mistress is gone. And your wife, Sigyn… Sigyn could not bear the shame but she was as valiant as your mistress; more so, in fact. She slew Heimdall when it looked as though he would live and you would die. I imagine it was magnificent.
Sigyn… She was so faithful; I never knew why she stayed with me. But she was one of the gods, foolish to the point of stupidity. He suppressed a smile; only he and Sigyn knew the other well enough to say such things. He switched his subject, ever versatile. Ah… Angrboda. She was a good woman, excellent for bearing the children that Sigyn could never give me. I won't miss her, even though she bore my children. And, yes… YOUR mother. What a magnificent specimen she was. If only she had gone to the lengths of Sigyn and not been as she was to the gods. A slut. Hm. Then all could have been well. All would have succeeded.
You want to leave, don't you? Taking his father by surprise, the white haired youth asked this suddenly.
You are my son, aren't you?
It was obvious, Father. You want vengeance; it's easy to see. To turn the world to ashes and flame is another one of your goals and to be with Mother. That is what you want and you want the others to pay. Remarkably, you are like those Kappas!
Kappas? What?
Never mind. But I spoke true, didn't I? If I help you from this asylum, you will have revenge and payback for all, even if you can't remember it. We will join with my other kin, as you see, and bring back Ragnarok, ensuring that it is the end of the world. How transparent and bold you are, Father.
They're trained you well, son. That will never come to pass.
Never? Hah! I should say soon! Father, let us do just that!
The elder was shocked and he blinked with rapidity in his ever shifting eyes before a slow grin curled its way onto his face, ecstasy written in that wicked grin. Ah, you would break your mother's heart.
She'll understand. She too wants vengeance.
Then let us go, son! Are you in front of me? Block me, as if you were going to embrace me and leave. I will summon my element and we will burst forth from this hellhole that even my dear daughter would not call home.
The son complied and swiftly embraced the still, sluggish form of his father as the creatures started forward before settling back, his swift movements momentarily jittering them. The soul of the father flooded into his shell, head twitching minimally but giving the creatures the forewarning that they would need. Bounding forward, they descended upon the two as the father suddenly raised his head and arm, fingers outstretched as he commanded his element. The chamber exploded into an inferno as his crimson eyes blazed cruelly at them all. The son rose as well, striking down the still surviving, a wraith in the flames, and made a path to the door, turning back to usher his father out.
But several black creatures, coming from seemingly no where, had appeared about his father, overpowering him, forcing him to use his power without his control, thus taxing upon his minimal reserves.
"FATHER!"
The son rushed back in, using his own abilities to come closer to his father, clasping his arms and bringing his face close. "Father – " he gasped.
"My son… your face is a reflection of my own. It was an honor to see it for the first time in my existence. Carry on, my son; you will free me, I know it." Usually cruel eyes marred by physical defects smiled into his as a powerful creature fastened its mouth onto the god's neck, sucking with all his power to drain the soul from the body as the god screamed, thrusting his son away. The back of the chamber exploded, propelling the youth backwards into the hallway even as it shattered with the coils of a snake, icy cold. A massive wolf caught the youth, flanked by a serpent that was miles long and a beautiful yet hideous woman. The compound behind them was devastated. With a single look at the once more tortured body of the god, the woman raised an eyebrow in her half-rotted face and cast her spell, her other two companions, the youth, and her, gone.
"What a pretty face," the half rotting woman murmured lovingly, leaning downwards, her reptile and rodent filled hair sweeping down to nearly touch the unconscious face of the youth. Her brow clouded. "He is prettier than me; he must be killed!"
"Lehhhht meeeeeeh!" the massive serpent hissed, slamming down a coil into the deep gray rock about them. He opened his mouth wide, tongue flicking dangerously close to the youth, venom glistening from his several footer teeth.
Even as the woman cast her arm in the way of the serpent, the wolf the young man had been swept up upon snarled and snapped at a leg, nearly severing it before the woman jerked it out of his way, contesting with the beasts of much larger proportions than the giantess. The two growled at her, flecking venom and saliva but to no avail as she simply yelled, "My right! Back, you beasts!"
"Heehhhhh's ouhhhhhr brohhhhhthhhhhher too! Ouhhhhhr fahthhhhhhhher cahhhhhlled us toohhhhhh! Wehhhhhhh hhhhhhhhave thhhhhhhhe rihhhhhhght!"
"Quit your incessant whining, Jormungand! You too, Fenrir!" the woman snapped, the flesh on her jaw line decaying as she spoke.
Jormungand whipped around quickly, his coils decimating the ground as they slammed toward the body of the young man, Fenrir taking the opportunity as well to charge the half rotting woman, shoulder leading to slam her with.
"Ovi läheinen!*"
The two huge beasts slammed into an invisible gate, landing in a tumble of scales and fur, jaws snapping at the other as they wrestled about to disentangle themselves, Jormungand snarling while Fenrir bit him; Fenrir yelped and scampered away when venom filled teeth sunk themselves deep into his fur. They faced off, bristling in their own way until the tension was broken by deep-throated laughter that rose in pitch and intensity.
"The two of you – you're so foolish!" the woman laughed, her face contorting as it rippled, some of it decaying, other parts of it growing back. She cut her laughter short. "But you forget… this is my domain, not a free area. You'll never break that gate. And now, you may all watch while I kill my precious baby brother. Heh, heh."
"WHEEEEE EEEE EEEEEEE!"
Pounding across the rock courtyard, behind the massive serpent and wolf, another huge beast thundered toward them, the mark of wisdom and knowledge glowing about his neck, all eight of his legs pounding at a furious pace. Sleipnir the Eight-Legged Steed of Odin wove his way between the snapping jaws of his half-brothers, easily slipping by to pass through the gate as though it were air, the shocked serpent and wolf gazing at him as he did so. Whinnying madly, pawing at the air, he came to a stop, bucking like mad over the unconscious young man, pushing the woman roughly out of the way.
"Sleipnir! You worthless animal! Away!" the young woman screeched, getting up and dusting her long, clingy skirt, torn and dirty from an eternity of wear. "You may bare the mark of Odin but you are not welcome in my domain!"
In response, he kicked at her and snorted, all eight feet planted squarely about the young man as though they were the bars of a cage. The thundering laughter of the woman's brothers reverberated through the entrance cavern.
Seething, she glowered at the two, quickly capping her rising temper, the temper a trait from her father, the control over it not. Crossing her arms and stepping up to the horse, she glared, one orb rotting in its socket as she did so, the other following it until the skin of her face was a stinking mess, rotting, gray matter exposed, hair thin and stringy, only a few clumps clinging to it. The horse blew warm, moist air into her face, pushing back the few strands framing her jaw line and even knocking several loose.
"You don't fear me at all, do you, Sleipnir?" she asked calmly, a tooth falling out as she spoke. A snort met her. "I see… Odin sent you to protect one of his servants, now did he? I had no idea that my dear little brother was under his régime; I assume our father is most unpleased."
The horse snorted, tossing his head from side to side, the beautiful curve of his neck moving gracefully, full mane billowing before becoming calm.
"Then he knew, did he?" she asked. "I see… and he is not displeased?"
Sleipnir shook his head again.
"Undoubtedly, the Trickster has something planned," she mused, rubbing her chin with her thumb and forefinger, momentarily breaking eye contact. She looked back into his brown eyes, blood pooling in their center. "And, as Odin's servant, I can harm neither you nor my brother. The same holds for the two of you!" she snapped at the cackling Fenrir and Jormungand, who were most pleased to have their sister vexed. "And it would be in my interests to keep the little son hale and hearty until he awakens and the two of you leave to your master." She paused. "It will be done. Follow me with the boy, Sleipnir."
Nudging the still form of his half brother with his nose, Sleipnir buried his nose under his brother's back until he could roll him over his head and neck and finally on his back. Getting up, he followed the retreating form of the mistress and trotted on after her, to the astounded gazes of his other massive siblings.
"Waihhhhhhht! Hhhhhhel, you foul monhhhhhster! Bring back the bohhhhy; I care nohhht fhhhhhhhhor Ohhhhdin! Hhhhhhel!"
"My head…" the young man groaned, bracing himself on his elbows before reaching one hand behind his head to rub it, feeling a knot and newly formed scar. "Father…" he muttered, brow folding, eyes itchy. "What they might have done to him after this escape… it might to better if he were locked in Hel."
"And you, it is as though you were locked in Hel," a voice of icy frigidness spoke.
Turning, he saw the form of a beautiful woman with shining black locks framing her lovely, youthful face, leaning over a desk, features dimly illuminated by the glow of caged moths. He shivered as much from the sight of her as from the cold within the cavern where he was, the floor bitter cold. Though Sleipnir had slept beside him, the warmth of the animal was long gone, as the horse had briefly left to find food, trusting that his half sister would do his half brother no harm.
"I was wondering when you would wake, pretty one," she commented, leaning over to check a miniscule defect before taking her quill and dabbing at it. She scrutinized it some more before leaning back and staring at the desk. She turned, the rotting half of her face shown to the young man, who recoiled in revulsion. Glaring, she spun her face from him. "Obviously my appearance does not please you," came her venom laced hissed.
"Of couuuurse it doesn't… It was… merely the chill in the air. It is awfully cold down here, don't you think so?" he inquired a bit nervously, never having seen a creature such as herself before, even though he had been at the courts to all the gods and had seen many an interesting thing.
"I despise those who lie to my face," she snapped, skin rippling with her checked anger. "Your father was well versed in lying… one would think that his children would inherit the same attributes, along with the same stipulations. Well," she sneered, an ugly expression, "most of his sons carry his traits; you appear to be without."
Seething, he glowered at her in turn. "I apologize for my offenses, ma'am, but how do you know my father? Furthermore, don't speak about him in such a manner or myself, for that! I doubt you know a thing!"
"Ah ha hah ha hah… Please, boy. I know more than you think." She turned to face him again, stoic and frigid as was her disposition. "I am Hel, ruler of this domain of the dead, called a monster by some, daughter of Loki the ShapeShifter, and Angrboda, the Distress-Bringer, sister to Jormungand the Midgard Serpent, Fenrir the Wolf, half sister to Sleipnir the Eight-Legged Stead of Odin, and now you, Kello, as they called you sometimes, did they not?"
"Yes… they did," he replied, a bit taken aback. "I am sorry to have offended you, sister Hel."
She cringed at the title. "I associate kin only briefly, Kello, not to affection; it is certainly never mutual so Mistress Hel is what my title will be."
"O… kay…" he replied, somewhat confused. "But why am I here? Last I knew, I was with Father, in his chamber, and we were about to escape from it and begin the Ragnarok anew, with Mother this time."
"Mother?"
"Yes, my mother, since Angrboda has been long gone. Oh!" He blushed slightly. "I'm sorry if I was disrespectful to Mistress Angrboda and to have angered you. I meant no offense."
"The ignorant often do not…"
"Did you say something?"
"Nothing, not any of consequence either way. But Sleipnir will be back soon, to take you back to Odin, to once more be at his side like a mindless lackey." She looked down her nose at the younger man, who blushed to the roots of his flawless white hair. "Of course, no son of Loki could truly be a lackey. Doubtless, you have some alternative motive, like our father would." She paused, listening to his embarrassed silence. "Ah, so there is no motive and you truly are a lackey. Hmm. Of course with your mother who she is –"
"Don't speak of my mother that way!" snapped Kello, eyes flaring dramatically. "She was a greater woman than you or your giantess mother would ever be! Speak of Father whatever way you like, his name has been dragged through the mud enough, but leave my mother alone!"
"Temper," Hel snarled. "Just like our father, useless sire that he was. Sleipnir comes; I recommend getting on his back; he will lead you out of my domain." She turned her back to him.
"Hel, we aren't through speaking yet," was the quiet, though anger filled thought.
"Indeed, we are through, little brother, the pretty little favored member of the family," was her chilled retort. "Sleipnir awaits and without him I'm afraid you will never find your way out. Now go before I invite you to dine with me at my table."
"Your meal of famine and disease holds no fascination for me, sister," spat he. "My brother and I will leave but don't think that I am as passive as he or my other brother. I abide to my father and even the AllFather, the Terrible One, knows this. Hearken to that, Hel!" and he swung onto the eight-legged beast of burden, which soon had sprinted away from the cold confines of Hel, his brother on his back.
And that was how brother and sister of Loki, each with a different mother, bitterly parted.
/ Brother…? \
/ What, sister? \
/ I'm scared. \
He chuckled slightly, a deep tone that was warm and soothing, like the waters of a river in the full, unbridled sun. He clung to his sister, closing the small gap between the two as he hugged her tightly, his strength flowing and throbbing about the two, blocking the outside world about them. / All will be all right, sister; I am your brother, nothing bad will happen to you. \
/ But our life candles flicker and the chaos rises. What if we cannot be freed or free ourselves before they extinguish? What if no one can be spared? You know that, since the Ragnarok and Apocalypse, the numerous ends to the world and all about it, our forces have been far too thin. We do not have much hope and, if our life candles are extinguished, we will die. And if we die – \
/ Shaa… shaa, my sister, \ he soothed, stroking her hand with his hand, confidence filled eyes smiling into her fearful ones. / It is not like you to be so fearsome, my sister. True, our confinement has been a long one and, true, there is much turmoil about, but it is also true that we will never succumb; Isis gives us strength. \
/ But what can we do as we are now, trapped? \
/ Pray, for one, and keep our spirits for another. Soon, we will try to escape again but, if we fail, do not worry. \ His golden eyes seemed to pierce through their protective bubble and the murkiness about them into a scene only he could detect. / I sense that there are changes all about us and soon, so soon that this eternity will be forgotten in a blink of an eye, we will be freed, as will all the others. The gods will take over their domains, as they always should have, the things will be set to right. \
/ Suddenly you have become clairvoyant, brother? \
/ Now that is something that I doubt, my sister. \ He hugged her closer, fiercely protective. / One must just have faith. Even though I cannot see the future, I can feel it as one can tell if the land feels fertile or barren. \
/ And this future you feel? Barren, isn't it? \
/ No, my sister, it is quite fertile. And soon, it will bear fruit, \ he smiled.
Notes: A few very minor notes for clarity. One, Amaterasu doesn't (or, at least, she shouldn't) use plurals of words just for the reason that there aren't any plurals of words in the Japanese language and I thought that that would make a good speech pattern. But Kello and his father call the Kappa "Kappas" because they don't know that there aren't any plurals in the language. Furthermore, I know that there are a few discrepancies in between Loki in Norse mythology and my Loki; I tried to keep them at a minimum but I do appreciate it if anyone points out anything they think is glaringly wrong. Thank you.
* "Opening"
* "Jump"
* "god"
* "champion"
* "Amaterasu of Japan"
* "Gate close!"