Frank and the Map
“Darcy, I am not sure this is the best idea.”
“Relax, Lokes. Just don’t look down.”
Loki did as she said, keeping his eyes on the empty stretch of road before him and squeezing the handlebars of Darius’ black bicycle. Darcy stood to the side and slightly behind him, one hand on the small of his back and the other holding the center of the handlebars.
It was late October and they had still not gone on their intended trip to Nidavellir. The morning after he had returned Darcy to Midgard on her last visit to Asgard, Odin had awoken from the Odinsleep and declared Loki’s punishment was that he should not leave the capital for the entire summer.
Naturally, Loki had been nonplussed about his situation. An Asgardian summer without Darcy seemed…utterly impossible. And there was no way he could leave her on Midgard alone.
That was the first time Loki directly disobeyed the Allfather’s command.
It wasn’t like he wanted to defy his father. But the bare thought of staying in the palace for five Midgardian months was torture. So, he devised a plan.
Firstly, he chose never to travel to another realm besides Midgard. If he dared pass onto the soil of any other world, they would no doubt recognize him and he would be in even deeper trouble. Instead, whenever he wished to see Darcy, he would cast a double of himself to sit in his room or alone in the library, reading books and teleport to the portal to Midgard.
Though, he did not put quite so much effort into his doppelgangers as he had Darcy’s. Doubles required energy. The more complex the doubles actions and character, the more magic needed. Being that he had to magic himself several miles, he chose to use his energy sparingly.
As of late, he had been spending more and more time alone. He and Sigyn remained friends and twice a week they would gather in the library for talk of fantasy and her growing friendship with Sif. It was strange to Loki that the fiercest warrior in training and the prettiest of ladies should become friends. Nevertheless, it made him happy to see Sigyn walk with pride in her step and a friend who shared her passions. In spite of their limited time together, Loki still favored Sigyn and he found himself occasionally wondering what lengths he would have to go through to court her once he furthered in his adolescence.
No doubt Lady Sigyn deserved nothing but the best and that was what he would provide.
As for teleporting such a great length just to reach the portal to Midgard…
It was no small feat. He considered, at first, creating a portal inside the palace. The fabric between realms was made of thinner stuff than distance. He would no doubt be able to create a portal to Midgard…with enough power. Therein lay his problem. He was still young, and again he faced the challenge of performing spells too potent for his capabilities.
According to his and Darcy’s calculations, he would be able to fully open a portal in fifteen years, give or take a few months. Darcy would be twenty seven. At that rate, he would be able to teleport between realms before he was able to open a portal.
So, unable to use a passage directly from his bedroom, Loki would conjure a double and then use the rest of his magic to hazardously teleport to the passage that led to Darcy’s bedroom. From there, they continued their studies on Midgard.
But now, he was facing a true challenge.
After reading the book the Allmother had given them, both he and Darcy had been entirely confused.
The book was absolute gibberish. Pure gobbledygook. The language changed thirty times per page and sometimes, the words used weren’t real, nor had they ever been. Darcy kept saying that there must be some way to decipher such a text and Loki kept arguing that it was nonsense bound in leather.
Darcy, never to be deterred, studied the ridiculous material for hours on end, searching out the barest of details. Loki, though he certainly had no interest in the book, helped her, only to become frustrated when they could not gather anything from its yellowing pages.
He insisted that they should search for answers through his mother and Darcy insisted they check Midgard. Why she believed all the answers rest on Midgard, he had not the slightest idea. But she did. And that is why he was learning how to ride a bicycle. Because after an entire summer of poring over that foolishness, Darcy demanded they go to a Midgardian library to search for answers. This time, they actually knew where they were going.
“So this is the brake…” Darcy nodded to the silver lever, the edge of her stiff grey jacket poking him in the cheek.
“Darcy, I know the mechanics of a simple bicycle,” he said, shifting awkwardly on the seat. He was wearing black jeans and a dark green turtle neck sweater with the sleeves pushed up. On his head was an annoying Midgardian contraption called a helmet, which Darcy was adamant about him wearing, in case he was hit by a car.
“I’m just trying to teach you how, calm down,” she huffed, taking her hand from his back to push her glasses up her nose.
Loki sighed, bringing his feet to the pedals. “You have been instructing me for the past five minutes. I would like to actually try riding it now.”
He could feel her smirk on the side of his head as he stared at the road before him, aware that Jörmungandr and Fenrir were making noises at each other behind him. “Alright. I’ll let you go on the count of three and remember to keep pedaling. Ready?”
“I am always ready.”
“Liar,” she teased, already loosening her grip. “One.”
He began to pedal slowly and Darcy jogged alongside him.
“Two.”
He pedaled faster, thinking about the balance required for a bicycle. Surely it must not be harder than the balancing exercises he was forced to do in his combat training. As long as he kept moving, he should make it.
“Three!” Darcy cried, letting go and allowing him to fly forwards.
Loki kept pedaling, his eyes squinted shut in preparation for the inevitable fall Darcy had told him of. But it never came. He was still moving.
In fact, it was fairly easy. Pedaling was no trouble and as for balance? He had experienced far worse.
“Loki!” Darcy called, jumping on her own bike and riding after him. “You’re doing it!”
He smiled smugly, looking down as Fenrir and Jörmungandr ran beside him. “I told you it would be no problem, Darcy.”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” she said, falling into place on his other side. “Keep talking. We’re going to the library now. Once we get into town, we have to ride on the sidewalks.”
“Very well,” he agreed, tentatively releasing his hold on the handlebars.
Darcy gasped, “How are you doing that!? You seriously just learned how to ride a bike!”
“I told you, I have excellent balance,” he reminded her, adjusting his position on the blasted seat.
“Uh huh,” she said, swerving her front tire so he had to quickly grab the handle bars to avoid collision.
Once he regained stability, he looked up to raise a self-righteous brow. “I’m sorry, but was that meant to discourage me? It was a very cute attempt, I will give you that,” he teased and Darcy laughed.
“Cute? I’m not cute.”
“I beg to differ, Darcy. You are very cute.”
“Fine,” she said indignantly. “Then you’re cute too.”
He smirked at her, “Darcy, I am a Prince—“
“—a cute prince.”
“Princes are not cute.”
Darcy let one hand off her handlebars to reach up and tap her chin. “Hm. I don’t know. Thor is pretty darn cute.”
Loki’s eye twitched and his bike wiggled a bit, forcing him to put his hands on the handlebars. “What? Thor? Thor is not cute!”
“Thor? Oh yeah,” Darcy corrected. “His face is adorable.”
“But…he is Thor!” Loki exclaimed, completely confused. He understood that the word ‘cute’ on Midgard had a couple interpretations, the first being that something was attractive in an endearing way. Like Darcy. He thought Darcy was very cute in that regard. Except when she opened her mouth and annoying words came out. It happened more often than not.
Then the other definition, the more secular meaning amongst younger Midgardians, was to call someone attractive in a way that meant they have captured your fancy. Now, he did not know if she was using the word in context to the connotation or the denotation.
Darcy sighed sadly, “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
He shook his head, deeming it best to change the subject lest he wish to die from shock. Darcy, of all people, could not find Thor attractive in that sense! No doubt Thor would leap at the opportunity to court her and that was simply unacceptable.
Darcy seemed to sense his inner turmoil and snorted. “Loki, I’m joking.”
“What?”
She grunted as they started up a hill that led to the end of the street where they could carry over into town. “I was kidding, you nut. Thor’s cute, but he’s not that cute.”
Loki relaxed a little as they made it to the top of the hill and continued on their way to the library. As it turns out, the library was not that far away, only twenty minutes by ride if they stayed on the sidewalks. When they arrived there, Darcy took from her backpack two brightly colored cables and locked their bikes to a metal rack. “It’s to keep people from stealing them,” she explained.
“So I assumed.”
They had no trouble getting there. It was only once they entered the library that real problems ensued.
“You can’t bring animals in here!” cried a dumpy looking woman with fluffy brown hair and too much Midgardian make up on her face.
Darcy and Loki looked at each other, then down at Fenrir and Jörmungandr who were staring up at them with their mouths open and tongues lolling out in identical expressions of excitement.
“Why?” Darcy asked.
“Because this is a library,” said the woman firmly. “Not a zoo! Now get those beasts out of here or I will call the police! Is your dog even on a leash!? And that SNAKE! I—!”
Loki waved a hand and a flash of green went over the woman’s eyes. Loki quirked a tiny grin as a wide welcome smile dawned on her face. He spoke to her softly, “I’m sorry Miss, but my friend and I need these animals for our studies. Would it be too much trouble if we were to take them with us?”
The librarian shook her head, the thick glasses on the end of her nose nearly flopping off. “It isn’t a problem.”
“Thank you,” Loki whispered, patting her shoulder. “I will alert the rest of the staff.”
Darcy blinked as the woman returned to her desk and Loki held his arm out for Jörmungandr to slide onto. “Loki, what did you do?”
He offered her a timid smile. “I didn’t take control of her mind, if that’s what you are asking. It was merely an illusion.”
Darcy considered this.
What classified as an illusion was the most indefinite science in the realm of magic. It was fairly easy to determine if more physical things were illusions or not. Any kind of double he cast was an illusion of himself, corporeal or not. Any kind of material he made that was mimicked from another object was an illusion, even if you could touch it or feel it.
Illusions were simple to categorize so long as they were not part of thought.
With that woman, he had not truly changed her mind. Deep down, she still believed that shouting in a library and discriminating against animals was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Loki had merely cast a temporary illusion over her mind that she did not think that. It would not affect how she thought about anything else except the presence of Fenrir and Jörmungandr.
Finally, she sighed. “It was an illusion. But don’t do it again, okay? I don’t think it’s right. It’s cheating at something that doesn’t need to be won.”
Loki remembered her time with Lord Bjarte and was instantly remorseful. She was right. Controlling the minds of others, even through an illusion…it just seemed wrong. Quickly, he released the illusion on the librarian as Darcy told Fenrir and Jörmungandr to go back home. They both whined sadly before scampering/slithering away.
Darcy showed the lady at the counter her library card before they headed off into the information section of the Midgardian archives.
***
Thor was fairly irritated.
Now, Thor Odinson was well aware he was not quite as good at political debates as his brother. Loki was soft-spoken, authoritative when need be, and very strange in terms of combat.
But the reason for Thor’s irritation was not that Loki had all of these attributes, but rather they were so much more defined than his.
It was almost expected of a Prince to receive publicity, be it good or bad. Loki’s was always a mix. The Realm Eternal would shadow over in talk of Loki’s most recent deeds. No one truly knew the details because most of Loki’s dealings were done behind the closed doors of a meeting room.
This left everyone curious.
Every citizen of Asgard knew of Loki’s practice of magic, his cunning and wit. But they had never seen it. His publicity was an enigma for the people of Asgard. He was the dark prince, the suspicious one. The news of Prince Loki’s deeds was always whispered, as if spreading the word of a liar. Word of his disobedience in Nornheim had permeated the streets of the capital like poison in the air. Even reports of his political accomplishments were shaded.
Whereas Thor, everything he did was always out in the open. His attendance to the funerals of those he had killed had done more to earn him the title of ‘Golden Prince’ than anything. He found wherever he went, that he was honored and respected as a spectacular warrior. That he was truly learning the ways of a King by humbling himself at the funerals of those he had killed.
And in all of that, Thor wondered: Who was the capital’s greatest lie?
Thor wanted to be a warrior. He wanted to fight for Asgard and her people. He did not wish to be honored for killing Asgardians. He wanted to receive the right kind of glory by defending Asgard against opposing threats.
That is why today he planned to meet with the Allfather to discuss his take on the potential war with Vanaheim. He was still so confused. Was Vanaheim a threat to Asgard? Was Asgard a threat to Vanaheim? Everyone he asked said something different. Lord Erlend contradicted everything Loki said and more. Loki contradicted what Lord Erlend said and then gave him several political documents that made his head hurt to read.
That is why he was going to speak with the Allfather now. He needed a straight answer. That way, he wouldn’t make the same mistake he did in Nornheim.
“Prince Thor of Asgard.” A guard announced him as he stepped into his father’s study.
“Father,” Thor greeted, giving a slight bow. Odin Allfather was sitting at his desk and next to him sat a man with light brown hair and a strong jaw.
“Thor,” The Allfather returned, gesturing to the chair before his desk. The golden prince approached the chair without question and the man with light brown hair stood, revealing his shining silver armor. “This is High Lord Tyr of Thryheim. I have called him here on short notice to discuss all that you wish to know about war.”
Thor blinked a few times. “I…I thought that you were to tell me of the skirmish between us and Vanaheim.”
Odin stood, Gungnir standing tall beside him. “An explanation from a biased man is never the true account,” he said simply, leaving the room without another word.
Thor stared blankly after his Father, prepared to throw Mjolnir at something for the amount of distress this damn conflict was putting him through. A low chuckle brought him back as Tyr settled himself in the chair next to Thor’s. “Cheeky, isn’t he?”
“What?” Thor asked, taken back. He had heard the Allfather been called a great many things, ‘cheeky’ was not typically one of them.
Tyr smiled, his white teeth shining on his shaven face. “Odin. He’s absolutely ridiculous sometimes. Stubborn too. I fought with him in the war. He was like an uncle, or a father even. You’re lucky to have him.”
Thor nodded respectfully. “Many thanks.”
Tyr smiled again and Thor cocked his head curiously at the Lord. It was always difficult to tell how old someone was on Asgard. They could look the most youthful person in the word and be older than Odin depending on when they ate their apple. But Lord Tyr just seemed too…young. The way he smiled and laughed made him seem too childish to have fought in the Great War.
But there was something more too. Lord Tyr looked oddly familiar. The edge of his nose and the shape of his jaw….
The Lord seemed to sense Thor’s skepticism. “You wonder what makes me worthy of explaining war strategy to a prince?”
“I mean no disrespect,” Thor assured quickly. “I just…you seem…younger.”
Lord Tyr shrugged. “I am young, I suppose. I was not yet of age when the war began and I started fighting. I neared the end of my adolescence just after we won the war. Battle strategy has been my life. I would not be who I am today without it.”
Thor’s mouth sagged open in awe. “You fought Frost Giants before you were of age?”
“I’m afraid so,” Tyr sighed, brown eyes reflecting the feeling of past horrors onto the young prince. “It is not a time I like to remember.”
Thor nodded slowly, once again caught up in how familiar looking Lord Tyr was. But he couldn’t place his finger on it…
“So, Prince Thor, you wish to further understand this skirmish with Vanaheim?” Tyr asked, bringing them back on topic.
“Yes,” Thor confirmed, “I have never been one for politics. I wish to be a warrior, and to fight for my people. Unfortunately, the last time I thought I was fighting for my people, I ended up fighting with my people. I do not wish to end up in that situation again.”
Tyr nodded, lips pursed. “And what do you know of the feud?”
Thor leaned forwards on his knees and ran a hand through his hair. “See, that is my problem. I do not know. High Lord Erlend of Nornheim claims that fighting Vanaheim is fighting for Asgard’s honor and to remind the people of Yggdrasil of Asgard’s might. We would fight to honor our people.
“My brother, Prince Loki, says Vanaheim has done nothing to wrong us and starting war with them would most definitely mean an outbreak of war in the Nine Realms. He says Asgard is not fully prepared to fight so many different races.”
Tyr nodded slowly, listening to Thor’s words and taking them in with great care. “It seems you have looked into this.”
“I have,” Thor assured. “I do not wish to repeat my actions on Nornheim.”
“Understandable,” Lord Tyr agreed with a sigh. “Before I explain anything to you, Prince Thor, you must recognize that being a neutral party is not always easy. Both sides have tempting offers that would be so easy to take if you swayed to one side or the other. But you must look into the heart of what you are doing and decide if it is right. I, being a High Lord, must look out for what is best for my people. That usually involves staying neutral.”
Thor’s brows came together. “With all due respect, Lord Tyr, I am a Prince. I cannot simply stay neutral.”
“No,” Lord Tyr said. “You cannot.”
He shifted in his seat so he could cross his legs. “Asgard has not had a war since you were a babe. That is not extremely long, but it is long enough for those who missed the Great War to long for glory and titles. There are always such inspiring stories that go around after a war. Average men become heroes. Average women birth honorable warriors and the pride in one’s own realm heightens. Not to mention, war is extremely good for the economy. Though, Asgard is in no need of it currently.
“Warring with Vanaheim would no doubt bring Asgard all of these things.”
Thor nodded, lifting Mjolnir onto his lap. “Then why is it Loki insists otherwise?”
Tyr waved a finger. “I am not finished yet. Your brother makes an excellent point. Warring with Vanaheim could potentially mean the beginnings of another Great War if the treaty with Alfheim is not corrected. It is difficult to say either way. Vanaheim is made up of so many tribes, some may fight with you, and others may join up and strike you down. If another Great War happens, Asgard may or may not be prepared for it depending on the terms of alliance. Many lives would be lost.”
Thor grasped his chin, thinking it over. It made more sense now, the fight of glory against safety. “Do those who want the battle with Vanaheim know of the consequences?”
“Some,” Tyr said lightly, flashing a familiar smile. “Some do not. More believe that Laufey is bluffing.”
The golden prince let Tyr’s explanation sink in. “Then which side do I choose? What do I believe?”
Tyr quirked a wayward smile. “That, Prince Thor, is for you to decide. No one can tell you who to fight for or what to believe in, even if you are a prince.”
“But what about you?” Thor asked. “If my father asked you to fight for him, would you do it?”
“Of course,” Tyr answered immediately. “If Odin asked me to fight for him, I would march forth, no questions asked. But I do not think he will.”
“Why not?”
Tyr sighed, leaning back in his chair and tapping the armrests with his fingertips. “Odin has asked for me to fight with him only once before. We have fought together so many times I cannot count, but only once did he ever ask me to. It was the day of the fight that ended the war.”
Thor leaned forwards, anxious to hear about the heroic deeds of those who had fought before him.
“The day prior I had been burned badly across my chest. The touch of a Frost Giant is so cold it will blacken your skin. My muscles were stiff with arctic chill and I could hardly move without remembering the blow of King Laufey,” Tyr recalled, a grimace spilling across his features.
“You still live? After being attacked by Laufey?” Thor asked in sheer amazement.
The man who still looked too young to hold such knowledge of war, smiled modestly. “Yes. I suppose so. Well, Odin came to me that morning while I hastily rubbed the little Essence of Fray that was left in our supplies over my chest and he said to me, ‘Tyr, I would not ask you to fight with me today, if I wasn’t sure that you’re the best chance we’ve got at overpowering them.’
“Understand that we had lost many people. The cost to us was just as great as it had been to Jotunheim. Most of the Asgardian generals and commanders were still alive so my surprise when Odin asked me to fight with him that day was tremendous. He bid me to lead the siege on Laufey's palace. And I did as he asked,” Tyr finished.
Thor’s mouth was gaping in admiration. “It had to hurt.”
Tyr laughed aloud, “It did! I could hardly move for a fortnight.” He smiled at the memory. “I came home to Ringsfjord, back when I lived there with my family. Within the next hundred years, Odin had declared me High Lord of Thryheim.”
The young prince nodded in acknowledgement of the Lord’s achievements. “And through all of that, you do not think he would ask you to go to war?”
Tyr gave a boyish shrug. “I do not believe so. Through all of my time with Odin, I do not think he would bring Thryheim into something we do not believe in. Thryheim has many sides, but you’ll find the most predominant one is that we are lousy fighters without the right motivation.”
Thor snorted. “I feel the same way about my brother. He cannot fight worth a damn unless it is for something important. And then suddenly, he manages fantastical feats with a bit of magic and a few daggers.”
Tyr smiled, “I have heard much of Prince Loki. Though, I must say, most have just been rumors. Tell me, is it true he brought a woman into a council meeting? And that she mouthed off Lord Erlend?”
“Yes,” the blonde prince said cautiously, unsure of what Lord Tyr’s reaction would be.
“Good,” The High Lord affirmed. “Bastard deserved it. I don’t know how he even holds his opinions with Queen Frigga in the palace.”
Thor was quite conflicted. He had spoken with Lord Erlend on Nornheim and he seemed a perfectly reasonable man. Energetic, spritely, polite…
But from the moment the entered the actual political setting, he had turned sour. Thor wasn’t wonderful at politics, but he knew enough to understand that Lord Erlend was insulting Loki on the highest degree and taking Lady Darcy for granted. Though, at the time, he had not words to defend either of them and had instead favored a nap.
“I wonder as well,” he agreed, simply to keep the peace.
“Yes…” Lord Tyr trailed off in thought, coming back to his senses. “Anyhow, do you have any more questions on war?”
“I do not think so. Yet I am still unsure of what opinions to hold,” he said in frustration. “I wish to fight, to earn glory for Asgard, but I would not want to go against the wishes of my people to do so.”
“The answer will come to you in time, Prince Thor,” Lord Tyr assured, standing and clapping the young prince on the shoulder. “You may write me anytime for advice or questions you may have.”
Thor was surprisingly warmed by this. Unlike most Lords of the court, there was something so free and caring about Lord Tyr that he found refreshing. “I will.”
High Lord Tyr turned to leave and then stopped, looking back at Thor with uncertainty. “Prince Thor? Might I ask you a question?”
“But of course, Lord Tyr.”
He cleared his throat. “Do you know of a young woman, in the palace? Sif?”
Sif! That is who Lord Tyr looked like! He and Sif both had the same shape of eye and mouth. And they both sat like they had such noble purpose. “Yes, she is one of my closest friends and a fine warrior.”
This seemed to excite Tyr, though he was trying very hard to hide it. His youthful face gave away everything. “Is she really? How does she fight? Is she well?”
Thor had never seen such enthusiasm for Sif’s training before. It gave Thor that much more reason to like Tyr. “She is well, she fights with a double edged sword. She can best nearly any man.”
“That is most wonderful news.” Lord Tyr’s eyes glimmered with amazement and a kind of nostalgia that made Thor quite sad.
He spoke in earnest. “If you would like to see her, Lord Tyr, I’m sure she would be delighted to meet you. Or, I suppose you already know her then.”
He shook his head, eyes downcast. “No…no I’m afraid I am not truly allowed to see her until she is of age.” The sorrow was plain on his face. “I used to visit her every summer in Ringsfjord when she was younger and before our father…well…perhaps she has told you?”
Thor nodded solemnly. He was one of the very few people that knew the truth of Sif’s state. How her parents had disowned her for being a warrior. Though he had not known her family consisted of such influential people. “Shall I tell her you asked after her?”
Tyr smiled politely, “No. Do not say it was me. Tell her only that she is a little sun that shines brightly, much like her hair.”
Thor could not help a heavy chortle. “Actually, she has black hair now. She had an…ah…accident with my brother Loki.”
“Really?” Tyr inquired, eyebrows disappearing in his hairline and he laughed with uninhibited enthusiasm. "It suits her! My little shieldmaiden was always looking to stand out! Tell her instead to keep on showing Asgard what it needs in its warriors! And the day she is declared part of the elite forces, I will be there!"
Thor bowed just slightly. “It would be my honor.”
Tyr clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Prince Thor, truly. I would be happy to give you any advice if needed. And you will always be welcome in Thryheim.”
“No, Thank you Lord Tyr. You have been far more helpful than anyone else in this realm.”
They bowed to each other again, before Tyr strolled from the room, an endearing grin plastering his face.
***
“Useless. Useless. Useless.” Darcy sighed, flipping the pages of a Swedish history book. “Useless. Useless….”
Loki snapped shut his own reference book, thoroughly irritated. “Darcy, we know that it is useless. You do not have to keep saying so.”
“Agh!” she exclaimed and was immediately hushed by the pesky librarian woman that kept stopping by to check on them. She brought her voice down to an agitated whisper. “I’m telling you, there’s something we’re missing! We’ve read everything from decoding to linguistic interpretations and this is just…crap. Absolute crap.”
Loki nodded in agreement, flipping once more through the pages of scrambled text his mother had given them. “It makes no sense to me, Darcy. Why would my mother give us a book she said held dangerous knowledge if it is just mindless drivel?”
She tapped her chin pensively, eyes skirting over the text. “I don’t know. What confuses me isn’t the change of languages so much as the positions of the words.” She ran her fingers along the page to prove a point. “You see? This phrase, though completely illegible, is supposed to be read up and down, and is written lengthwise. Whereas, on the next page everything is written from right to left on an angle.”
Loki cocked his head at the book to get a better view of the words. Sure enough, the direction of the phrasing was as she said. He sighed, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater. “Yes. But what does it mean? We have tried to make out the text several times and there is no sense to it.”
Darcy ran her fingers under a string of words, reading them aloud in the allspeak. “That literally makes no sense. Some of those words don’t even exist in their respective language’s vocabulary.”
Loki ran a hand over his face, as if he could wipe himself free of this blockade in their research. “So let’s think about what we do know,” he said, exhaling slowly. “We have a list of every language used in the book.”
“Right.” Darcy pulled out a slip of paper covered in purple ink.
“That is all we have.” Loki fell back into his chair. “We do not know anything else. The book has no author, nor maker or publisher. It has no legible content and no pictures. Brilliant.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, staring down at the book with the nastiest mix of disillusionment and verging obsession.
Finally, Darcy let her head fall onto the table. “I wish I could give up, but this book is driving me crazy. It’s all I can think about.” She trailed off. “Well…no. I think about food a lot more. Speaking of food, I have five bucks. Do you want vending machine fruit snacks?”
Loki nodded in exhaustion. “I would love vending machine fruit snacks.”
Darcy came back a few minutes later with five bags of fruit snacks. They each got two and they saved the last for Jörmungandr who would be very disappointed if they didn’t share.
Just as they were starting to get back on track from their short food break, a voice called from behind them. “Darcy?”
She turned, a large smile splitting her face. “Grace!”
The librarian hushed her from somewhere nearby.
“I mean,” she said at a much softer tone, “Grace, hi.”
The girl, Loki assumed her name was Grace, approached their table. “Hey girl, how’s it going?”
Darcy shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of research on Nordic cultures.”
Grace shook her head in mock disgust and Loki quirked a small grin. She was a nice looking girl with shoulder length braids and pretty dark skin. “Dude, it’s a Saturday. Why are you doing that…on a Saturday?”
Darcy crossed her arms, “Because that’s how you do things when you’re Darcy Lewis!”
The angry whispering voice of a librarian sounded through the shelves. “Well, if Darcy Lewis doesn’t tone it down, she’s going to have to do research another place!”
Immediately she covered her mouth with a hand and both Loki and Grace began stifling laughter. Darcy smirked at them, “You two suck. Oh yeah, Grace, this is my friend Loki. Loki, that’s Grace. I talk about her sometimes.”
Darcy had told him many stories about the time she spent at soccer with her friend and he was genuinely happy to make the acquaintance of someone who made Darcy’s life at school bearable. He stood, thinking of the Midgardian custom to shake someone’s hand when they met. “Darcy has told me only the best.”
Grace was taller than Darcy though she still had to look up at him and she did so with wide eyes. She took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Yeah…she’d better have.”
Darcy snorted. “You’re ridiculous,” she said jokingly. “So what are you doing here?”
The girl took a seat in Darcy’s chair, crossing her legs. “Well, Ms. Bates wants that stupid essay turned in by Monday and I still haven’t read the book for it yet.”
Loki remembered the book. Darcy had complained very loudly over her teachers making it necessary to the curriculum that they read a book as a class. She read the book in one night and then outright refused to do any of the work for it.
“Ah, yeah I’m not doing that,” Darcy sighed, looking back down at the table.
Grace flipped through the heavy reference materials Darcy had been reading. “I don’t understand you, Darce. You spend your Saturday in the damn library learning all this shit but you won’t write an essay.”
Loki was at first taken back by Grace’s language. But, he remembered that swearing was different on Midgard. Darcy had explained this to him over the summer after she had let the “’a’ word” slip out.
“Yeah yeah yeah,” Darcy dismissed, pacing in front of the table as Loki sat back down in his chair.
Grace peered over their notes. “Is this in German? My dad spoke German.”
Darcy quickly snatched away a sheet of notes. “What? Me speak German? Pht. No. Crazy.”
Grace continued looking around their table until she came to the book. Loki and Darcy shared an apprehensive glare when she began turning the pages in confusion. “What even is this?”
“Uh…Loki…”
“It was my mother’s,” Loki filled in smoothly. “She gave it to me. It is but a book of scribbles, I think.”
Grace flipped a few more pages. “Wow…that’s pretty cool. So, is it like a giant puzzle?”
Loki’s head snapped up and Darcy’s gaze met his in an instant.
A puzzle?
A puzzle.
It made perfect sense. It was all a puzzle.
Darcy immediately made grabby-hands for the book and flicked through the pages like a mad woman, excitement burning in her eyes. “Oh my god. Grace, you’re so right. It is exactly like a giant puzzle.”
Loki stood up as well, peering over her shoulder to traces the directional text with his fingertips. Each page was like a puzzle piece. All of them together would fit to make...well…something. They would have to find out.
“Grace, you’re a genius,” Darcy breathed, completely astounded. “I love you.”
Grace rolled her eyes, “Okay Lewis. I love you too, weirdo. I’m going to go work on that essay now.”
She waited a few seconds for them to say something, and Loki looked up at her in thanks. “I hope it goes well, Grace.”
“Thanks Loki,” she said sincerely, giving Darcy the stink eye. “Some people are just considerate and respond when people tell them goodbye.”
“And those people are suckers,” Darcy muttered, whipping out a piece of paper and taking rapid notes with an orange marker.
Loki smirked, bending over the table and pushing his sleeves up again in order to help her organize the pages by both visual and language pattern. It was a very long process.
Later that night…
Darcy’s hair was a mess and Loki had yet to change out of his Midgardian clothes. Papers littered the floor, all filled with notes on riddles. A plate of half eaten pizza rolls sat on Darcy’s bed where Fenrir and Jörmungandr slept.
Darcy picked one up and poked it into Loki’s mouth while he ran his finger along the patterns in the book. “I think we need to take out the pages,” he declared at last, dropping the book onto Darcy’s cluttered desk.
“I was thinking the same thing,” she agreed, moving to stand behind him. “Do you think they fit together? I think…if we put them together, they’ll make an image? I guess? Maybe.”
Loki nodded. “Yes. Only it’s going to be a very large image. These pages are 7 by 16 inches and there are six hundred and two individual pages. Not to mention there’s a backside to each page which means our puzzle is either three dimensional or it is double sided.”
“Double sided,” Darcy confirmed, brushing through the pages. “Can you detect any magic on it? I can’t feel anything, so if there is, it isn’t powerful.”
“No,” he shook his head, turning the book over to get a better view of the cover. “There is nothing. Faint traces here,” he pointed to the spine. “But it is very faint. So, I assume that the last person to have this book used magic to cast off the cover.”
He pushed up his sleeves in preparation as Darcy put her hands over his. “Are you sure you wanna use magic? Don’t you have to go back to the palace?”
He cast a wary glance to Darcy’s side-table clock. “Darcy, it is two-thirty in the morning. I’ll go home later today.”
Smiling tiredly, she released his hands as he magicked off the cover, leaving the stack of thick pages before them. She sighed, “Okay. If we’re going to do this we need a bigger space. My room isn’t wide enough to hold an image that big.”
“Yes, you’re quite right…” he trailed off thoughtfully. “We could go to Asgard? Even if we just stay in the field by the portal we will have more space.”
“Alright,” she nodded, picking up the stack of pages while Loki collected their notes. Together they slipped under the bed, arriving in the cave that seemed just a little smaller than it used to.
They pulled themselves out into the clearing where Darcy dropped the pages and Loki conjured a ball of light so they could see their work in the cool night.
Loki cast a spell so the papers would hover in the air in the position that they placed them in. Slowly, a wall of inked parchment began to form as they added more and more pieces to the puzzle. Darcy stood on one side of the papers and Loki stood on the other so they could arrange the pieces to their intended positions. It was tedious work.
The lines of text, curving and swirling in every which way were near impossible to fit together. And having it double sided? They would be up all night.
Darcy sighed, shifting a piece of paper from the place he had put it in. “It would be better if we knew what it was a puzzle of.”
“Obviously,” he said grumpily, moving the page back. “I would use magic to piece it together, only I do not have the slightest idea what I am supposed to be making. There are not even the least magical traces. ”
Rubbing a hand over her face, Darcy began pacing. “Alright! Let’s think…there has to be an easier way to do this.”
Loki stared at the papers, tapping his chin. “I don’t know, Darcy. Perhaps the words have some meaning to them after all.”
“I thought the words were pointless?”
“No words are ever pointless.” Loki muttered, scanning the sheets before him, searching for some kind of pattern. “Give me the list of languages used.”
She handed him the paper and he read it over, running his index finger under the words. “The only Midgardian language used is an early form of Germanic tongue. Darcy, perhaps it is not the meaning of the words, but rather their location.”
Quickly, she hurried to his side, reading over the list. “Maybe…But all of it is ancient. That’s really old Asgardian, that’s Dark Elven…I don’t even know if that one is a language,” she said, pointing to odd block letters. “I have no idea what that is.”
Loki touched the page, brows knotting in confusion. “I know what language it is. I cannot read it.”
“Why?” Darcy asked. “I thought…what happened to the Allspeak?”
Loki shook his head. “The Allspeak encompasses languages inside of Yggdrasil. Many of these languages…they are not from the Nine Realms.”
Darcy gaped. “Woah woah woah man, back up. There’s stuff outside of Yggdrasil? Whaaat?”
“Of course,” he said, finding her confusion quite odd. “Darcy, come now. You really did not even suspect it?”
She rubbed her temples. “We never…I never read anything…”
“Very little is known. It is why I cannot speak the language. But I can recognize this one.” He said, pointing again to the block letters.
“What is it?”
“Celestian.”
“Explain,” she commanded, crossing her arms and resuming her pacing while he talked.
“The celestials were an ancient race that existed long before the Aesir or even the Dark Elves. They are legends to most, mere fables to others, and history to some. Anything we read about the infinity stones is because the Celestials were notorious for using them,” he explained. “Of course, we don’t know much at all about them. We, that is, you and I, only suspect that the Tesseract is an infinity stone.”
Darcy scrubbed her face again and she pushed up her glasses. “Ugh, okay. How many people know about all the stuff we do?”
Loki ran a hand through his untidy hair. ”I do not know. I’m assuming my mother knows some of it, though how much, I cannot say. As for the rest of the Nine Realms…only very few would have an inkling as to what this is. We are on our own for this one.”
Her eyes widened in amazement. “Holy crap, you’re right. I never thought about that. We’re verging on a discovery that no one has ever discovered…except…you know, maybe the horrible person that wrote this book and didn’t put their name on it.”
“Anyways,” Loki brought them back on topic, gesturing to the languages. “This is Celestial, this is Midgardian, and this is Dark Elven.”
Darcy pointed to a few squiggly lines that marked the pages. “What about those.”
“I think…no…no, that would be…” he trailed off, trying to trace the form, “…odd.”
“Loki, spit it out.”
He sighed, “I think we may need to break into Odin’s study before I make an assumption about that one.”
Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose, her face scrunched up in thought. “So, you think these languages are indicators?”
“Yes,” Loki confirmed, “I think it is. You see, there are six infinity stones, or gems whatever you prefer to call them but that is all we know. They could be any powerful relic.”
“Yeah, I know. I read the book,” she sassed. “Mind, power, soul, time, space and reality. But really, that’s all it said. That’s the most any book has ever said; is that there are six stones and at one point all of them were in Yggdrasil.”
Loki groaned. “Yes. But, I am telling you that this puzzle may enlighten us as to where they are.”
Darcy’s head snapped up. “You mean like a map.”
They shared a knowing look and Darcy hurriedly returned to her side of the papers. “Organize them by language. One side of each sheet should have exclusively languages from Yggdrasil. The other side will have all the languages we can’t read, if I’m remembering correctly.”
Loki shuffled through the papers, magicking them to stay in place. “You’re right.”
“I’m totally always right,” she teased, beginning to shift the sheets around more rapidly. “You take the Nine realms. I’ll take the others.”
It was a vicious, hand trembling struggle. Parchment flew, fingers were cut on whipping pages, but neither could care for more than a second as two images began coming into place. The night wore on until the sky began to lighten and the damp grass began to dry.
Loki could sense they were almost done. His knees were weak and his eyes stung from being open so long. His fingertips were raw and he felt like Jörmungandr had eaten his brain and then regurgitated it for Fenrir to chew. He was on the verge of collapse when Darcy picked up the last piece to their puzzle and slid it into the single empty space of their map.
“Oh my god.” Darcy breathed, stepping back to examine their fine work.
Loki stared in awe, at a loss for words.
He and Darcy joked about being clever or about having the likeness to geniuses. But, at the moment, he felt as though their jests were a reality.
The book of nonsense and gibberish they had been poring over before now stood before them in a familiar shape. Words that had been so awkwardly placed now created a depiction of The World Tree.
The words themselves were still very confusing, but they worked to create the roots, and the trunk and the leaves and the branches in a wordy representation of the Nine Realms.
Darcy cleared her throat. “Loki, I think you should look at mine.”
Cautiously, Loki strode around the wall of paper, to Darcy’s side of the wall and gasped when he saw her end result.
“Darcy?”
“Yeah?”
“What day are you free?”
“I think this Friday,” she murmured, still staring at the map before them. “It’s Halloween.”
He nodded, eyes wide. “How did you feel about trespassing again?”
A glint of mischief shone in her eyes and Loki could not help but suspect he was the cause. “Anything for science.”