The Seventh Stone

The king eyes me suspiciously, standing several feet away with his arms crossed. “Is it not too soon for this?” 

“It’s not,” I say, rolling my shoulders back comfortably—propping against a chair in the middle of the throne room. “The doctor said I needed a week—it’s been a week. Do I look injured to you, still?” I gesture to my torso—completely healed and covered with my freshly patched suit.

He exhales lightly through his nostrils, shaking his head reluctantly. “Well, I suppose not…” 

“That’s right—and besides,” I say, glancing around the hall—at the king, his guards, and Yerul. “This won’t require any physical exertion.” 

No sign of Olen. 

“How can you know?” The king asks. “And how can you be sure that you will find it?” 

“Well I’ve done this before, that’s how I know. And I can’t be sure that it’ll be there, I just suspect it. Seron said we’re ‘cut from the same cloth,’ and I believe that’s why I was able to travel to Asgard on my own,” I say, exhaling sharply as I lean forward slightly. “What better place to hide the tesseract than someplace that only he—and I—can get to? No armies, no help.” 

“Speaking of Asgard,” Yerul chimes in, stepping forward. “Where is your friend? Has he no interest in this endeavor?” 

My eyes dart up to him. “I couldn’t tell you if he did,” I say contemptibly. “I haven’t seen him in days.”

And it’s true. I haven’t seen or heard from Loki in six days. I haven’t tried to find him either—not after I returned to my room and found his corridor brushed, polished, and cleaned as though no one was ever there—or intended to be.

“More interesting question is,” I ask. “Where’s your brother?” 

He shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you either.” 

“What?” I say, raising a brow. “So… They’re both gone?” 

“Not quite,” says a voice to the left, resonating slightly against the walls. Yerul and I both look over, seeing Loki stride through the archway leading from the next hall. He glances at me with a stiff, toneless expression—I return it likewise, keeping a mask of calm. 

“What exactly is going on here?” Loki asks, glancing about as he strides along the line of guards. 

“I’m going after the tesseract,” I say matter-of-factly. 

He slides to a stop, facing me. “You’re going after it? How’s that, exactly?” he gestures to the chair. “You’re looking comfortable just there.” 

“I am comfortable. And for where I’m going, I won’t be needing to get up from it.” 

“And where is that, exactly?” the king asks concernedly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. 

I look toward him. “Well, I’m going to focus on the tesseract, and I suspect that Seron’s returned it to the dark realm. The one that he was ‘born of,’” I slide against the seat, straightening my backside against the wooden frame. “Or—dimension. Whatever it is.” 

“I don’t understand—it’s a real place?” Yerul asks.

I shrug. “I’ll let you know when I find out.” 

“If you’re going alone,” the king asks. “Then why did you ask for all these guards?” 

I pause, feeling the heavy threat of the unknown settle in my face. “Well,” I say in a low voice. “I don’t know if someone—or something—will try to follow me here. If it does, I’ll try to hold it back. But if I can’t, then you ought to be ready for it.” 

The king blinks toward the ground, then nods ponderously in agreement. “Very well.” 

I bob my head. “Alright,” I say, my eyes passing over all their faces, pausing on Loki’s for a brief moment. “I’m going to start now.” 

I sigh lightly, pursing my lips doubtfully as I close my eyes. I wasn’t thinking about the tesseract the first time I traveled to it, I didn’t even know that it existed. All I wanted in that situation was to escape to sleep, and then something took me one step further. A subtle, innate glimmer of curiosity and desire to act and understand what was happening in my room that night. There was no innate threat, nothing that made me want to run.

Except now, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Constantly running from one problem, toward another. Or trying to, anyway—but I know deep down that in this particular moment, there isn’t the slightest desire to be anywhere except the safety of where I am now. 

After several moments of failed meditation, I sigh. “Damn.” 

“What? What happened?” Yerul says, and I open my eyes to their faces peering back at me intently. 

 I exhale frustratedly. “I can’t do it. I can’t focus on it. It’s almost like…” I pause, lifting a hand demonstrably off the arm rest. “I don’t want it enough—don’t want to leave this room.” 

Yerul’s eyes light up suddenly. “Sounds like you need some motivation,” he says.  

I lower my chin suspiciously. “Maybe,” I say slowly, and a hint of an amused grin tugs on the corner of my mouth. “What’ve you got?” 

A smile breaks out on Yerul’s face. “Well,” he says laughingly. “I can throw out a couple of insults if you’d like—something to make you angry, make you want to ‘leave this room.’ Like your hair, or your… atrocious clothes,” he says sarcastically.  

My brows droop low as I glance at the suit. “Well you really go from zero to a hundred, don’t you?” I shake my head—momentarily glancing at my hair to see whether my curls are also looking ‘atrocious.’ “Unfortunately I don’t think that’s going to do achieve anything except a fight. And besides—” my voice drops. “I’d rather dodge insults than electric bullets.” 

“Perhaps I might be of assistance,” Loki interjects, and we both turn toward him—smiles disappearing. 

Loki holds my gaze as he approaches slowly with a somber look that silences us all, boots sliding against the marble floors with thumps and squeaks. The only sound in the room for now—save for the slight touches of metal as all the guards regard us closely. He stops, peering down at me for a moment before sighing lightly, and squatting down in front of me.

“Lara,” he says, mustering a resentful tone. “Since we met on Asgard, you have been... just the most encumbering nuisance,” he tilts his head sarcastically. “Can’t say that’s much improved—in fact, you’ve been the newly gathered subject of my discord. And the moment really can’t come soon enough that I no longer have to tolerate it, so please—if you will.”

I stare darkly at him—bewildered. Really, to think I’d believe a word of that?

My faces softens with a creeping revelation—the slow, aching understanding of the reason for his disappearance. I can only buy one grain of truth behind his words—that this distance and resentment is easier for him than whatever grief I must have caused. Perhaps he thinks it’s truly easier this way, but one thing is certain—I wouldn’t have caused him any ‘discord’ if I were nothing but an encumbering nuisance.

A disproving grin tugs on the corner of my mouth. Loki’s brow flickers confusedly over his dour expression, but he stands, taking a few steps back. An icy mask spreads over my face as he backs away slowly, staring coldly at me.

This all started with the tesseract, and that’s where it’ll end. Wherever it is and however it got there, that’s where I need to be.

And all of this will be over.

A sharp rush of wind  and pressure passes over my body, with shock sealing my eyes tightly shut for a brief time. The cool, brisk air that had been breezing through the hall disappears from my skin, and I drop down against a soft surface, sinking against it slightly. Immaterial waves of cool, wet fluid trickle against my hands, and I open my eyes to the sight of it all—the dark dimension.

I was right—this must be it. This has to be the place so ominously named, with a title fitting the eery sense of discombobulate existence. I couldn’t begin to fully capture the myriad of shapes, fluids, and neon surfaces floating by me—mostly having to do with their seemingly constant metamorphosis into other shapes, fluids, and surfaces.  

So… Where’s the tesseract? 

I stand slowly, swaying slightly at the lack of gravity holding my ethereal form in place. Once I gain my balance—if that’s what one could call it—I turn slightly in place, looking for signs of the tesseract. It must be somewhere nearby, it wouldn’t make sense otherwise. I landed near it the first time, there’s no reason for it not to be now, with my active effort to gravitate toward it through space and time. 

Or maybe it’s not meant to be seen by the naked eye. I glance down at my hand, seeing the faint, residual light of the shard still gleaming under my skin. It’d be a mistake to draw attention by using the god stone’s power, but there shouldn’t be a problem with using the sight. 

A wave of energy rushes through me with a quick impulse. In the blink of an eye, the setting changes. The fundamentals are there, but the ‘strings’ are different here—black, towering like structures of cities built against the distant, floating bodies of mass, and moving amongst each other like living creatures. And there, in the far distance, I see it—the faint, blue glow of the tesseract, hidden in a web of string. 

In such a weightless form, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to get there—assuming space aim doesn’t send me spiraling past it into nothingness.

I exhale lightly with relief—and something screeches quietly behind me in turn. 

The corners of my mouth drop abruptly as I turn my head slowly. Slowly, toward a figure slithering shapelessly in the air behind me, like a stream of smoke twisting and turning about itself. 

My eyes widen as it suddenly bursts toward me on the ground, and I kick off sharply—flying at a constant, barreling speed past the black structures, where more and more of those figures warp responsively between the structures. More screeches break out behind me. 

Damn, how do I fly this thing? I reach out, grabbing at the black strings with both my hands—which are thankfully more material than anything else that’s here.

My legs fly by the structure that I’ve grabbed at, and the momentum peels the strings effortlessly from my grip. I look downward at the ground I’m floating toward—descending into a much more concentrated collection of little black balls of string darting away from me. They remind me suddenly of those I’d seen in the hall, the day the shard was embedded in my hand. Does that mean, these things are people?

No time to find out. I land against the surface, which ripples at my touch. The tips of the structures sway reactively to the movement as I rise up to my legs—somehow—and glance back briefly toward the sound of screeches as I take off in a running motion, in the tesseract’s direction. 

It seems the more I try, the less control I have over my movements. The gentler, the better. I kick off sharply from the ground, grunting loudly as I grab onto the next structure stretching up sideways from a large, glowing planet, and grip it tightly as my legs fly past it again. I swing my legs inward, and my hair flies back over my head as I curl my body into a ball against the structure, propping my feet beside my hands—leaving half a second to spare before the creatures catch up—and release them overhead, using all my immaterial strength to jump toward the tesseract. 

Textured planets and pillars continue to fly by me much more quickly now, and I clench my jaw tightly with frustration—I hadn’t considered how I’d stop myself, once I got close to the tesseract. 

Brace for impact, brace for impact—a solid, black building suddenly materializes around the tesseract, towering down to one of the floating planets below. Pieces of broken matter scatter around me as I burst through the web, positive that the sharpness of the hardened strings would’ve left scrapes and cuts on my physical body.

My eyes dart downward, past my boots, and I hold my breath as the creatures slither past the web and through the other side of the belfry. 

“HAH!” a smile bursts on my face, and I let out a relieved laugh, looking back up at the tesseract. 

It’s within reach. 

I wince suddenly, as an abrupt explosion of a three-toned cry breaks out in my ears. I look back down, at the slim streams of blackness snaking over the edges of the railing. Slowly, one contorted body of mass rises shapelessly over the edge—rippling menacingly around a pair of bright, violet eyes peering angrily at me. 

Violet eyes? I wonder if…

“…Seron?” I whisper. 

The creature bellows in a rage. 

“Nope!” I gasp, turning and ripping through the remaining black strings with my arm—grasping the warm, vibrating surface of the tesseract with my right hand. 

With a familiar flicker of electricity against my skin, the world disappears into blue light. The sharpness of the strings disappears from my body, and I gasp sharply once again as the world reappears—along with the sound of ringing metal, as several startled guards draw their swords defensively against me. 

Yerul, Loki, the King—I loosen my hand, and the tesseract falls into my lap as I scan their startled faces. 

I made it back. 

With a heavy groan, I sigh heavily and shut my eyes—cocking my head back against the chair, trying to calm my heaving chest. 

“Jesus…” I say breathlessly, and my lip curls into a subtle grin. “That was so much fun.” 

My eyes open as I smile broadly, looking down at the tesseract resting sideways between my thighs, and then back up at the trio of confused expressions staring back at me. 

“What happened?” the king steps forward. 

I laugh, letting every bit of residual adrenaline pour out shamelessly. 

“Whooh,” I sigh again, shaking my head calmly. “The dark dimension happened.” I raise a finger to the air. “Yeah—don’t go there,” I say laughingly. 

The king’s voice drops low. “You got the tesseract, and…” he pauses. “Nothing is coming?”

“No, nothing’s coming,” I smile, taking the cube in my right hand, and using the left to lift myself slowly out of the chair as my breathing settles. “We’re in the clear. But thank you for being here Your Majesty, for being willing to help—since getting this back was more my business than yours.” 

“After all you’ve done for us, there’s nothing to thank for in this,” he grins, tilting his head. “And—you may call me Reylan.”  

I raise a brow. “Is that your name? I was starting to think I’d always call you the Yellow-Eyed King.” 

Reylan frowns. “When have you called me that?” 

“Oh, no—sorry,” I wave my free hand through the air. “I was calling you that in my head, since I didn’t know your name.” 

“Ah,” he says. “I see.” 

I bob my head, inhaling lightly through my nostrils. “Well, that’s all I suppose,” I say, looking around at the relaxing guard. “We should go rest up to celebrate tomorrow, shouldn’t we?” I smile warmly, reveling in the contentment. 

Two victories—two massive victories—in the course of a week. It’s definitely reason to celebrate.  

“Right,” Reylan faces the guards. “You are all dismissed—as are all of you,” he says, turning back to us and bowing his head with a concluding grin. “And if there’s nothing else you need of me, then I shall also say goodnight to you all.” 

I nod. “Yes, this was all,” I smile back.

“Then good night,” he grins warmly, glancing at all of us. 

I watch as he turns slowly and strides off to the archway leading out of the main hall, before pivoting toward Yerul. “Guess you’ll have to insult me some other time,” I say amusedly.

He laughs, crossing his arms. “Oh I’m sure I’ll get the chance to,” he glances at Loki, and his smile diminishes to a tense, awkward line. “Well—good night to you both as well, I suppose. I’ll see you both tomorrow, for the celebration?” 

An agreeing grin tugs my face to the side a bit. “You’ll see me for sure,” I say, swallowing the nervous lump that rises in my chest as Loki’s eyes trail slowly toward me. 

Yerul’s keen, observing eyes pass between myself and Loki, and by the growing curiosity on his face, I’m under the distinct impression that someone in this ‘palace’ is in for some kind of gossip tonight. 

His eyes land on me finally, with a nod. “Alright then—good night,” he says, turning awkwardly and pacing away—leaving us both alone in the main hall. 

My eyes don’t leave his blue, cloaked backside for a second. Even as he disappears around the corner. Only at the sound of a shutting door in the next hall, do I finally look back at Loki. He meets my eyes—saying nothing.

“Good night,” I say tonelessly, nodding my head. 

I look back up at him for a moment, at the austere expression hardened over his face, before turning and stalking toward the archway. The sound of leather boots against the marble floors picks up behind me shortly—along with my pace.

“Won’t be seeing me tomorrow, will he?” 

“You tell me,” I shake my head, still striding forward. “You’re invited, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t know—that sounded like a revocation.” 

I roll my eyes as we pass under the first archway, our footsteps echoing against the tall, veined walls of the tree. “What do you want, Loki?” 

“I want you to talk to me.”

I scoff, still headed toward the glass elevator. “Well there’s a change of heart. After everything that’s happened,” I say earnestly, raising a finger in the air. “Particularly that disappearing act—what makes you think I want to talk to you?” 

“What, would you deign to associate with that princely fool instead?” he asks emphatically.

I stop abruptly, passing the tesseract into my left hand as I pivot angrily in his direction—throwing my right hand up, half-clenched, and summoning the strings to constrict around his neck and shoulders. Gently enough for shock, but… not enough for pain. He stops abruptly in his tracks, parting his lips surprisedly. 

My brows crinkle as disbelief splays mockingly across my face. “Who do you think I am?” I say, stalking slightly closer as his expression shifts to wicked amusement. “You think I’m someone you can lie to, then ignore for a week?” I shake my head, lowering my hand down from his neck, releasing him. “If you had deigned to talk to me in that time, I might’ve told you—I hate being ignored.” 

Loki’s smile broadens as he relaxes, running a hand over his neck as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Well you’re quite the droll one, aren’t you?” 

“No,” I tilt my head, raising both hands up sarcastically—one with the tesseract, and shard embedded in the other. “What I am is armed—so I’d stop screwing with me if I were you, and just… Be honest.” 

Loki’s brow flickers at the sudden drop of wryness from my tone, and the amusement slowly drains from his own expression. “Honest?”

“Yes, honest.” I say, stepping back as I toss the tesseract to him. “With both of us.” 

He catches the cube with one hand, pulling it slowly to himself as his smile fades completely. 

“I don’t understand,” he says in a low voice. 

A white-hot sting electrocutes my chest. “Go home, Loki.” 

Heaviness settles in his expression as he peers darkly at me. “Excuse me?” 

“No more ‘encumbering nuisances,’” I say, controlling my voice with heavy breaths. “It’s what you asked for. So go home.” 

He parts his lips reluctantly, looking between myself and the tesseract. “What about you?” 

“By the time this is over—” I pause, with the sudden thought of some fiery death flashing across my thoughts. “If I need the tesseract, I’ll know where to find it.” 

A subtle softness leaks into his otherwise hard expression. “Lara—”

I raise a hand to stop him. “Just go,” I say bitterly as I turn, readying to walk away. “It’s for the best. You’re a difficult man to love.” 

All things considered, I know he is—but that’s not stopping every fiber of my being from screaming out at me in protest as I walk off. 

“To love?” I hear him mumble, but I don’t stop.

It shouldn’t matter anyway. So what if I love him? If he goes home, it’s for the best—love is no excuse to act against my own wellbeing. I found it once, I'll find it again. 

So I don’t turn. I don’t look, I don’t talk. I just keep going. Doing what I know is best—letting it go, and holding my breath until the elevator doors cut away the silence behind me.

[to be continued]