Finding Ragnarok

• The main subject here is a prophesy from the poem Voluspo. It’s the most famous of the poems as it details the largest portion of the otherwise unrecorded Norse Mythology.

An orange shade, a vaettir, bloomed from the open air. Loki studied it, then passed around when it drifted too close. There were lots of them, the surrounding void tinged the orange-red of sunset as they descended in tightly packed pillars, their glow only serving to make the void seem greater

• Vaettir are various spirits in norse mythology.

Darkness encroached and he looked to find a staff’s glow moving away. He had fallen behind again. I’m sure this tale would earn the skalds a laugh. The Adventures of Loki, the Meandering Scout.

Helheim’s pitch had been absolute until they reached this space. He knew they were underground, but he struggled to call this a cavern. Abyss, he thought with a nod. They had somehow made it to the floor of an abyss and now trekked across it. There’s ground up there somewhere, right?

• There’s no universally accepted understanding for what Hel is like aside from it being below ground, dark and cold. This following storage concept was something I pieced together after learning that the Norse believed in a tripartite and that fire was restorative.

“So?” came a voice and an elbow, Loki startled by both. “What do you think?”

Loki glowered, though he doubted the dark relayed his message. “I think we should equip you with a bell. You’re far too quiet for your size.”

Heimdall grinned, his eyes containing a sheen as if some unseen light reflected back. He was a bear of a man with a long handled war-hammer gripped at his side, its staff passing up along his back. He wore a layered leather garb with a wool lining and fur pauldrons.

• The glint in his eyes is a reference to what I told you about him having unparalleled vision that isn’t affected by the dark.

“It’s almost as if Fate had them here all along,” he said, his voice rich with a course edge.

He was referring to the corpse fields, or what Loki had come to think of as the abyss’ floor. Rows upon rows of pristine, naked corpses spread away in every direction, each enclosed within an oval of strangely marked stones. Some ovals contained bodies with cleanly severed limbs and others were altogether empty.

If Helheim had a horizon, they’d surely rise to meet it. More of a sea than a field, he thought, his gaze following a pillar upward. “How many do you suppose—” But Heimdall was gone again. Tssk. Definitely getting you a bell.

The pillars were clusters of vaettir drifting down like dust settling within a light ray. His mother had spoken of this. ‘Fire is restorative,’ he remembered her saying. ‘And will restore your hamr—your body—in Helheim.’

These vaettir are from pyres, he thought, following a column to its destination. They fell onto the bodies lacking limbs, their transfer yet complete. An orange glow outlined each stump like the glowing singe that consumed a leaf, only, this was reversed. The singe was burning away the void that existed in a limb’s place.

There was no denying the corpses around him, but death wasn’t the impression they gave. Elsewhere, the dead instilled a sense of finality. They were a reminder; one day, it’ll be your turn. But here, he just felt like he was looking at someone’s wardrobe, the bodies somehow feeling like garments. That’s nice and all, but I’d never wear that.

Something plowed into him, his nose striking a hard surface, his foot catching, and the ground rushing up to meet him. Oof!

A chuckle reached his ear and he looked up with watering eyes to see a nearby glow. When he could see well enough, he recognized the staff he had been following. Or in a perfect world, the one he had been leading.

Beyond the staff’s radiating head, Odin’s own seemed suspended against the gloom. He was a bald man with a gray cloak and a gray beard, a single wide braid overlaying the hair of his chin.

“Perhaps, scouting is a task that ill-suits you,” Odin said, his voice laden with a wizened rasp, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Loki snorted and brushed his tunic. “You sure are smug when you’re not blinding everyone with the light glinting off your forehead.” He bit his lip. Skitr! Just. Stop talking, Loki.

• Skitr = Shit :)

Heimdall barked a laugh and Loki just noticed him peering back from around his shoulder. “He’s sharp. I hope we keep this one.”

Odin nodded. “Yes, well, everything in their proper measure. Even wit.”

Did I just walk into him? “Why’d y’all stop all of a sudden?”

“What else did you expect one to do when they reach their destination? Or did you think we were here for the scenery?”

“Actually, I’ve got no idea why you brought me, so scenery seems as good a guess as any.” I mean, come on. Odin, Heimdall, and Loki walk into Helheim? It sounds like the start of a bad joke. The Adventures of Loki and the Origin of Bad Jokes.

Odin leaned forward, gripping his staff with both hands. “We’re all here for a bit of seidr. And this particular spell works best when a raven and wolf fylgja are present.”

Fylgja? My spirit animal? “If you’re the raven, what’s Heimdall for?”

Odin shrugged. “He hits things. And should something need hitting, he’ll be close by.”

Heimdall dropped a severed head at Odin’s feet. White braids framed the sides of its blue-tinted face, its eyes open and pointing up, its mouth ajar.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask...”

“Vafthrudnir here is what made this journey possible. The wise in life, in death grow wiser still, and some wisdom can only be obtained from unlife. Which is to say, we needed him to tell us where to find the Volva here. And now, his remains will be used as an effigy to interview her.”

• Vafthrudnir means riddle weaver and is a reference from another poem by his name. In it, Odin goes to meet him while disguised and challenges him to a knowledge contest, where the loser forfeits their life. They take turns asking each other about the Norse pantheon, Ragnarok and details about Creation. In the end, Odin wins by tricking him. He asks, “What was it Odin whispered into Baldur’s ear on the funeral pyre?”
• Vafthrudnir immediately knows that his match is with Odin himself because no one else could know such a thing. There is no details about what Odin whispers to Baldur, but you’ll see that come up in this story. :)

Loki looked over the adjacent stone enclosure where a woman lay, her skin tinted blue, her body covered with foreign symbols. “So, what do I do?”

“Just remain nearby,” Odin replied, stooping to fiddle with the severed head. “Believe it or not, this magic nearly worked itself back when Ymir first passed. His being was the very stuff of creation, so no effigy required. Now, all that remains is this pitiable substitute. An act to access what remains of him within his descendants.”

• Voluspo tells of Odin using Ymir’s remains to create the worlds. There is talk of Seidr magic, but no specific details other than to say it’s shamanism. This effigy concept is something I put together based on the use of Ymir and was something that predated the Runes.

“But we’re all descendants.”

Odin looked up. “Are you volunteering?”

Loki grinned and looked away, his thoughts chasing the mention of Ymir, the Allfather. The father of creation. And Odin was there when he died?

• There is no mention of Ymir being the Allfather. That name always refers to Odin, but it seems like it would be suitable for those of the time to view Ymir as an “Allfather.”

A gout of flame burst from the effigy, then dwindled. The Volva opened her mouth in a gasp, grasping the ground at her sides. She babbled, her shoulders alternating from the ground as though backing away. “They’re coming. Very Wise will come. The Gray-beard.” Her voice echoed itself within her throat as if multiple speakers were saying the same thing by way of her mouth.

Loki took a decided step behind Heimdall, who glanced around to him. “What do you make of this? Isn’t this messing with fate?”

Heimdall shook his head. “Fate has decided these corpses will sleep. And if one were to wake for a time, so too did Fate decide. Their place is their purpose, as is ours, Loki. Fate has decreed it. And there’s no say that you nor I have in the matter.”

“He is here,” she corrected, her head leaning up, her solid white eyes seeming to settle on Odin, who knelt alongside her.

“High One, it is the time of thine questions? It all ends. Your questions, the beginning. And still you’d know more? Ask, he will. He was always going to. Such is Fate. Yes, Fate ordained.”

Odin frowned. “I’d have a treasure that the Dwarves hid away—artifacts they thought too powerful for anyone to hold. Yet, you’d have me believe that you knew I’d come?” He shook his head. “If you truly knew, then I wouldn’t have to tell you. Your powers to glimpse one’s Fate perished alongside you. All I need resides in your domain—the past, not the future. Retrace the steps of those that hid it away. That and tell me if any of Ymir yet remains.”

• Voluspo presents this with Odin as the sole listener to this Volva (witch/seer), where he asks her specifically about the prophesy. But why would he think to go directly to this person, this location, to ask them about the world ending? Of course, I adjusted that. Plus, I added the company. :)

“Yes, your treasure. Ever after it you were. So, a test. Yes, the test. To see the measure of this one’s truths.”

• “Your” treasure is referring to what Odin valued most: Knowledge.

Odin stroked his braid and seemed to consider. “It would serve to gain such a measure. Very well. Tell me something that only I’d know.”

“Very good. The test begins.” She paused, her head settling back to the ground, her white orbs cast to the void. “Long ago it was. Not alive was I then. Before Asgard. Before Ymir. Before the Great Tree. There was but Ginnungagap. Where world fire met world ice, the World Tree climbing to the heavens. First was Ymir, his home in the Tree and there was born the first Kin-Slayer.

• Odin has something like 125 known names. I used several known ones in this story, but Kin-Slayer is not one that’s credited to him. But he did kill Ymir, his relative, so…

“The Aesir and Jotun were among his brood and did feast and fight all day. For their want was great for another place, their refuge an ill-fitting cage. Kin-Slayer’s own eyes from the horizon withdrew, no bloodline could stay his hand. Then fell Ymir, and the realms took shape, his remains the clay for their molding.

“Then came the Dwarves, their home in the earth they made. Their first was the mighty Motsognir. And next was Durin, who named all after. There was Nyi and Nithi, Northri and Suthri...”

• There’s a long list of Dwarven names that I figured everyone was well enough acquainted with. Seemed like a good time for Loki to zone out. This is where Tolkien got his list of names by the way. :)

Loki zoned out. She’s talking about Odin? And he killed Allfather? But... Why? He shook his head and glanced up at Odin, who studied him. I wasn’t supposed to know this. There’s no way I’m getting out of here alive. Unless...

He looked at Heimdall, who listened attentively, no sign of distress. Of course he knows. They do everything together. ‘...should something need hitting, he’ll be close by.’ Loki rolled his eyes. So, that’s what Heimdall’s for. It was right in front of me. The adventures of Loki, the blind leading the All Seeing.

“...when Kin-Slayer found the fateless Ask and Embla. They hadn’t might, nor soul, nor sense—”

“That’s enough,” Odin cut in with a wave of his hand. “You’ve shown your worth.”

“Passed the test, this one did. But always would. More questions to sow. More answers to reap. Shall I tell you more now, Herteit? Should I share what you told Baldur on his funeral pyre?”

• The Baldur question I referenced earlier. Here it ties to the contest with Vafthrudnir, the contest that suggests Vafthrudnir would be beheaded. Of course, with him beheaded here, the contest couldn’t have happened the way the original poem suggests, so it’s treated like one of the stories that Odin doctored to share with mankind by way of the texts that this mythology is recorded in.

Herteit? War Glad?

“And thus your measure has ended,” Odin replied. “Baldur yet lives.”

“Fate,” Heimdall answered. “She’s no longer referring to the past.” He followed Odin’s gaze over to Loki.

“What?” Loki replied, slouching and waving them off. “I didn’t hear anything. Just pretend I’m not here.” And make sure we keep it pretend.

“Loki,” Odin began, “If I hadn’t done what I did, we’d all still be confined to the World Tree—”

“Stop. I said I heard nothing.” His slouch deepened.

Odin sighed. “Just remember, both great deeds and ill deeds often fall within each other’s shadow.”

• A Norse proverb. I had a few others but had to cut them for length.

Great. A lecture on morality’s gray scale while sitting in a world of shadow. Actually, now, I’m not so sure I’d want more light down here. A light might be worse than the dark.

Odin returned his attention to Volva, who seemed inanimate in her wait. “You speak of Fate, Volva. What know you of things yet to come?”

“No longer alive was I when Ymir again was used. Two halls did Fire Raven create. Their keepers he did assign. Valhalla was one and Folksvang the other, though the former wasn’t kept for long. Odr fell to Herteit’s corruption and Valhalla proved the prize.”

Loki perked up. The Vanir chief is dead? When did this happen?

“Folksvang’s keeper sought Odr, the vanished, to Asgard she made her way. There, she burned for the magic she shared for wicked it was to gift. Three times she burned and three times did she laugh, though burning, she’d rise again.

• There’s scarce information on Odr. Some sources say he’s the Vanir Chief, which is basically a separate tribe of Aesir. Other sources suggest he was a wanderer who went on long journeys and was the husband of Freya (the parents of Hnoss and Gersemi). Still, other sources say Odr is an alternate name/persona for Odin. So, my depiction here isn’t standard aside from being part of the Vanir. There was never a suggestion of him having Valhalla, but there’s confusion as to why Odin splits the dead with Freya. My version fixes that. :)

“Then did the Vanir rise in turn. Blood was spilled, so blood was owed. A fight they wanted and a fight they got, from Herteit, a spear passed over their lot. Thus came the first war to the gods, but Herteit would not be victory glad. From Folksvang, its host set loose. Within Asgard a defense, their last line in the breaking.

• Throwing a spear over an enemy army is a sign dedicating your would-be slain foe to the gods and isn’t the only time Odin is shown dedicating something to himself. lol When he hangs himself from Yggdrasil (Odin’s horse) to secure the runes. His doing this is making a sacrifice of himself to himself, because there could be no greater sacrifice than himself. Eyeroll.
• The poem doesn’t name Freya specifically, but a lesser norn really was burned 3x in Asgard, which is what this is referring to. My version places Freya in this time and place. There is no explanation as to why she was in Asgard performing luck magic, though. Voluspa mentions the war with the Vanir after this thing with Freya, but this isn’t cited for the start of the war.
• Freya goes to stay with the Asgard when the war concludes by means of hostage exchange. Some Vanir stay with the Aesir and some Aesir stay with the Vanir as a show of good faith. These hostages are supposed to be valuable people though. Mimir was one of two sent by the Aesir, but the second person was an idiot. The Vanir were so outraged by this deceit that they beheaded Mimir and returned his head, which is why Mimir was decapitated. Odin preserved his head and frequently consulted it for knowledge.

“Their will did falter when a great wall fell, an entreaty going up in its place. Peace glad were the Vanir, but well was not all, for Herteit’s gladless when victory hides. In his veins did the poison course. The Dwarves’ number he cut in twain. An exile, half did he send for the crime of equipping their foe.

• There’s no mention of exiling Dwarves, but there is a mention of light elves and dark elves. Just no explanation. These events are suggesting that Odin is the reason behind there being separate groups.

“But Valhalla did Herteit now control, its secrets had come undone. There the Valkyries perched to claim the slain of Herteit’s choosing. His mightiest defeated joined their ranks, the einherjar, who fought at his behest. Rest they needed not, fighting and feasting, each day dying and rising anew.

“Wisdom sought Herteit, guidance for wars yet fought. Wide was Mimir’s well known and for the knowledge its waters held. The price for a drink, Herteit would know it, and the cost was merely an eye. To the well Herteit traded to fill his horn, his fee did he pluck and proffer. The waters consumed, he saw all and knew all, excepting for beyond wyrd’s veil, the boundary betwixt life and what’s next.

“Though Herteit had seen too much, he’d seen too little and knew what needed be done. Himself did he hang from Yggdrasil’s loftiest reaches. And with a spear, he ran himself through. Staring down at its roots, for many nights, he had not food, nor drink, nor rest. Wyrd’s veil did part on the ninth day, Herteit trekking beyond, then back again. In his embrace did the runes come to meet the living.

“Shall I tell you more now, Ygg?”

• Late in the original Voluspo, a line similar to this shows up. I made sure to keep that and used it to break up events into something like a linear timeline. I’ve heard the original referred to as a mixed-tape of events because some of the details seem out of order.

Ygg. The Terrible. Lovely. Loki stared back at his company. “Do I really have to say it? Far be it for me to be the voice of wisdom, but a thought just occurred to me. What if we didn’t fight the war?”

“It’s Fate,” Odin said, Heimdall seeming disappointed he didn’t say it first. “You know it when you hear it and there’s naught we can do but our parts.” He shook his head. “My own eye? It’s truly a remarkable prize for me to give so willingly.”

“Who knew that the Vanir were so formidable?” Heimdall asked of no one in particular. “That is surely a great battle. Does their Chief vex you so?”

Odin scratched at his beard. “We have our differences, which is why they went their own way. But none so fierce that I’d kill him. Maybe this Valhalla has something to do with it. Regardless, I don’t see this war being sometime soon. And to think, they caused us to broker peace? I can scarcely believe it.”

“Why can’t you just not fight?” Loki asked. “If a beast charges, you get out of the way. Or do y’all pack too light to bring sanity along?”

Heimdall shook his head. “Madness avails you not, Loki. But Fate doesn’t play the game we know. For it is the game master. You move from the path and the beast turns to meet you. There, your colliding will show where you were always going to be struck.”

“Forget it. Let’s just get what we came for.”

Odin nodded. “Yes, yes. The treasure. But she mentioned a first war, meaning more than one. Surely, I faired better after that. What of it, Volva?”

“No longer alive was I when Ygg waged the last war. So grave was his pride’s injury that he saw the Vanir undone. Their chiefdom disbanded, the elves fleeing woodward until the day they returned. Now free from the fight, Ygg returned to the hunt, a new fighting for what approached.

• There is no mention of elves in Voluspo, nor is there any war referred to other than “the first war” and Ragnarok.

“In discord, three had held a secret. And when a fourth knew, Baldur died, the truth confined behind lips locked fast. For in his ear, Ygg whispered, ‘I’m sorry, Son. This burden was not yours to hold.’

• This is a reference to Grim Legacy and this secret is what they decide later in this short story—to tell others that Fenrir and Jormungand are the enemy, not Odin. Also, Baldur was originally depicted as killed by a Mistletoe branch as a prank by Loki, and this whispered thing (not detailed anywhere in the source material) is what Odin used to win against Vafthrudnir.

“Of the source, there was no doubt, thus Loki was chased for chains. Of his sons, the first was made a wolf, the second consumed by the first. To a rock he was with the second bound and there he’d spend the rest...”

Loki sat up. What? I had sons? Will have? And this happens? He withdrew. This place had finally shown him a corpse and it was his future. I have sons.

“A punishment did Ygg then conceive. To lock away Loki’s first and any he’d traitor-name. There, in Nastrond, all those wolves did fight, forever fighting and falling, each day dying and rising anew.

• Nastrond is a mystery. The original poem depicts it as a place for traitors, but there is no afterlife designed for punishment, nor did the Vikings have loyalty expectations. They behaved more like mercenaries, so it was expected for them to join another chief if there were greater benefits to the individual Viking.

“Long had grown Ygg’s name-list, the dread-list longer by far. Loki caused a stir, his absence a void that unsettled the realms. Distrust, like a wildfire spread and the Chief wouldn’t remain Chief for long. He’d not right the wrongs, but fairer did he paint them. And to the land of men, this book he did send forth. Now, Midgard could learn of gods and men with a duo’s deeds reversed.

• This is my fabrication and implies that what we know of Norse Mythology was doctored by Odin, then given to us so that we’d believe what he wanted us to. If you look up his list of names, a great many of them are things like Killer, Murderer, Swift Tricker, etc. A real charming fellow from the sounds of it. It’s no wonder he’d want to doctor his reputation. :)

“Shall I tell you more now, Allfather?”

Loki was vaguely aware it got quiet.

“Can it be true?” Odin asked. “My own son? With these hands? After all I’ve done? This is what Fate deems my reward? And my legacy, a lie of my crafting?” He sighed. “Surely, there’s glory yet to be found. Volva. What happened after the last war? Did the madness end?”

“No longer alive was I when Ragnarok approached, Allfather’s plight a castle of ash. Fenrir and Jormungand, from Utlendast they arrived, though Allfather knew not where. So, wide did he cast his net, the mightiest seidr he used. Gleipnir was it named. A spell to bind all wolves, all serpents, those born and those yet so. ‘Twas a spell to cripple them all.

• Gleipnir was a chain/tie that was used to physically restrain Fenrir. The Aesir had grown fearful of him because he had grown too large and Tyr was the only one willing to keep feeding him. When they decided to chain him, they tricked him by telling him it was a game to test his might, teasing that surely he could break free. He broke several but grew suspicious with Gleipnir, which looked dainty by comparison. He agreed to try it only if Tyr would place his hand in his mouth. And if this was a trick, he’d bite of Tyr’s hand. Tyr agreed, then lost his hand, basically sacrificing it to get the chain in place.
• What’s funny is that many of the Aesir’s deeds are what made things turn out the way they did. They alienated Fenrir and made him aggressive by tricking him and locking him up. And Jormungand (the great serpant) grew to such a size because they chose to throw it into the sea.
• And of course, my referring to it as a spell is something from Grim Legacy. Instead of actual animals, this is targeting a portion of an individual’s tripartite and a portion that I link to a spirit animal. My protagonist, Mioko, is constantly referred to as a wolf for… reasons.

“Many were the Jotun used, their fire burning high as a temple. In the flames did Tyr seek amends, his distaste for that bought and that paid. A fine from himself did he extract, a helping hand given, so a hand owed. To the dragon’s breath went his trade, his fee did he disjoin and disown. Though little relief it was when Fimbulwinter arrived, for those bound slipped free of their rope.

“Gjallarhorn did blast when Heimdall did blow, all the realms, to Asgard had cast their gaze. In opposition were they all set, and ‘twas Allfather that fathered it all. The Jotun encroached, from the east they came, the earth shaking beneath their charge. From the north, ‘twas Hel’s domain that flowed and none in her halls remained. From the south, a blood debt the elves would claim for a homeland had and lost. But the West was troubling most of all, from there the three had come.

• Odin alienated the other realms, so a revolution coincides with Ragnarok. :)

Thor rushed to meet Jormungand, but slowed in meeting his death. He died once nine steps had passed, the serpent to follow soon after. Loki was free and with Heimdall rejoined but friends they were not to be. Long was his sorrow, but short his revenge, for each had fallen to the other. In Allfather’s eyes did despair loom with the Wolf, for Fate had come to greet him. Then, from the ground did Surt’s sword burst to split the heavens, Allfather’s schemes proved smoke on the wind.”

Odin sat slack-jawed, his eyes on both the dwindling flame and some place far away. His expression was so dumb that it caused one of Loki’s laughs to come loose. He stifled it with as much success as one might suppress a cough. Then came a flood, his mouth falling open and his laughter rushing out to span the void. He bowled onto his back, shaking and clutching his stomach. “You destroy the world,” he croaked. “Because, of course you do!”

After a considerable effort, Loki finally packed away his amusement and found Heimdall surveying the fields. “Well, uh... That was something.”

Heimdall nodded. “Glorious.”

“Uh, say what now? Did you not catch the part where we all die, Heim-dullard? And that tiny matter of me killing you?”

Heimdall looked at him, his eyes showing admiration. “Can’t you see it, Loki? We have learned our days’ end.” He fanned his hand out over the fields. “If ever you’d want a measure of your life, look here. This is what Fate deems required to end us. And until that day, we’re invincible. And you. To think, tiny you will one day prove my equal. If that day were but tomorrow, still it’d be too far away. You own my respect, Loki, and you’ll have it until Fate claims it from us both.”

Loki shook his head. “Just what in the nine realms are you high on? It’s like we were listening to different prophesies.”

Odin marched up, his staff glowing. “I’ve decided. Loki has the right of it. This is a beast’s path we should step out of.”

Loki blinked. What happened to all that ‘all we can do is our part’ business? If I get a poor deal, it’s fate. But if you don’t like yours, suddenly it can be overturned?

“What say you, Loki? Will you help me see this future averted?”

Loki glanced to Heimdall. “What about that fate stuff?”

Odin scoffed. “Mere superstition. A past time for idle minds and dullards.”

“What are we supposed to tell everyone when we return? We can’t just pretend we never came. People saw us leave.”

Odin waggled his finger. “A little misdirection can carry you far, Loki. The last thing we want is panic. Once this has passed, the truth won’t matter.”

“Meaning?”

“We’ll tell them of Ragnarok, of course, but place their fears in this wolf... this Fenrir. Him and Jormungand. That should appease their curiosity enough for us to halt this madness. What say you?”

• The lie Baldur is killed for knowing. Purely a Grim Legacy thing, where Odin creates the known story to conceal his Grim Legacy version.

Heimdall nodded immediately, which irked Loki. Where’s the dig you always have for me about this stuff?

“And Loki?”

“Hmm? Why would it matter what I say? It’s not like anyone will believe me over you two. Besides, I’m no good with secrets. If you think I talk too much now, just wait until I get a drink in me.” He shook his head. “Now, there’s a talker that I’d not meet sober.”

“Then swear to it.” Odin drew a blade, then dragged it across his palm. “Swear that neither of us shall drink in the absence of the other.”

• This is a reference to Lokasenna (Loki’s taunts), a poem where Loki famously roasts many of the Aesir who are feasting and drinking. Before he begins, he’s allowed entry when he says to Odin, “What happened to our oath where we mixed blood and swore we’d never drink without the other.” There is no mention to what this oath could have been about, but Odin allows him in and he proceeds to spill everyone’s secrets, shaming them doing the very same things he’s shunned for.

Loki narrowed his eyes. That’s a bit dramatic.

Pat-pat-pat. The blood dripped from Odin’s outstretched hand.

“Fine,” Loki replied. He snatched the blade from Odin, then winced as he drew it across his palm. He proffered it to Heimdall, who politely declined. “What? This doesn’t apply to you?”

“You needn’t worry about Heimdall. If he says something will be, you can take his word for law.” Odin clasped Loki’s hand. “We are brothers now and we’ve a common goal. Let us return at once.”

Loki elbowed Heimdall as Odin prepared to leave. “Well, you were a right basket of blissful silence. What happened to all that ‘it’s unavoidable’ talk?”

“Loki,” he replied, his tone even. “In Volva’s foretelling of Fate’s pattern, do you honestly believe we did not have this knowledge when those things came to pass? If Odin’s path is one of fighting, such has his path always been. Such will it always be.”

Loki nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I expected, just expected it earlier.” He shrugged and looked down at the dwindling flames. “Are we supposed to send Volva back?”

“No. Her tie to this place will sever once the fire dies.”

“Ragnarok, huh? I wonder if anything else happened.”

Volva took a breath, startling Loki back. “No longer alive was Ygg when the new land was made a home. Small did the survivors number, greater by far was their hope. A home found and a home made in Vindheim under righteous rule. Happiness there ever was in the land free of schemes, but a light cannot shine without shadow. Long lived Ygg’s lessons of old, but beneath them darkness did slumber. If ever a step proved too far afield, the patient dark would be there to greet them.”

• Vindheim is the actual name of the place said to emerge after Ragnarok. :)

The flame winked out. “Huh. That’s something, I guess.”

“Well?” Odin said. “Let’s be off.”