Chapter 1
His first encounter with this man who bears the name of Bat was during one of his many visit to Helheim in order to see Hela for their scheduled father-daughter bonding time. Loki had arrived at the gate of Helheim with his arms laden with gifts for his beloved daughter and that was when he noticed the lump of black figure washed upon the shore of the endless abyss that made up the border of his daughter’s realm.
It was not the first time for him to walk upon the arrival of a new soul to Hela’s gate but it was rare for him to meet one who are still coiled with the chain of life, as if the very world of living itself still refuse to let go of its grasp upon this soul. Most souls that arrived at the border had always meant to stay but from the look of it, this one was one of the rare exception.
With his curiosity piqued, Loki knelt down by the body’s head, the gifts in his arms vanishing to one of his many dimensional pockets so that he can his hands free in order to trace his fingers over the pale face. The skin under the pad of his fingers was cold yet at the same time, still held the lingering warmth that indicate life. His own magic washed over this peculiar soul, brushing over the core that still persistently burned despite the coldness of Helheim trying to snuff it out.
Loki stroke his thumb over the high cheekbone, distantly appreciative of this mortal’s fine aristocratic features and murmured a spell under his breath. Directed by the spell he had woven, his magic coiled itself around the soul to form a protective barrier around it against the grasping shadow of Helheim.
It was not the time yet for this mortal to stay in Helheim.
The chains wrapped around the soul began to glow faintly, chiming along like the melodious chirping of the avian creature that flies the sky of Hela’s kingdom as it began to recede back, pulling the soul along with it toward the world of living that await at the end of the border.
Loki leaned down, his own long hair brushing against the pale face and planted a kiss on the mortal’s forehead. He might not be a Light sorceress like his mother, but his own blessing and magic will help this soul to cross the border of death undeterred by the malicious creatures that guarded it. His daughter’s subjects know better that to challenge him because it was he after all who singlehandedly conquered the previously fractioned realm and named it Helheim as he crowned his daughter the ruler of it.
Never let it not be said that Loki will not do anything for the sake of his children.
If the rest of Yggdrasil were going to scorn his children just for being his brood, then he will conquer it all and name each of them the ruler.
No one will harm his children anymore.
With sombre eyes, Loki watched as the soul was dragged away to the world it came from, his own magic keeping it afloat from the consuming abyss down below.
“You are growing soft father.”
Hela’s voice chimed from behind him as she joined him by the shore and Loki smiled softly when the warmth of his daughter pressed close to his side, her wispy dark green gown pooling around them. Whoever said his daughter was cold to touch surely had never been close enough to her to feel it but then again, Loki will not allow any living being come close enough to harm his beloved daughter.
“Not necessarily so, dearest daughter of mine.”
Loki chided, smiling into the silky strands of her dark hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Hela snorted but did not move her head away from where she had leaned it against his shoulder.
The two of them sat there in silence, the events of the worlds of living rippling the stillness of the abyss and creased into waves that lapped upon the shore of this realm.
“You know that mortal will return soon enough.”
Loki hummed but said nothing else, fully aware that the words of his daughter will be true.
That was the first of his many encounters with this peculiar mortal soul and each time, the symbol of the Bat was always present on the man’s chest, as if the very insignia had been branded into his very soul. Loki had tried to magic it away one time but the chain of life had zapped him in retaliation and that have Loki concluding that this emblem was what had tethered this soul from departing fully to Helheim, keeping it anchored to the world of living.
Each time this soul arrived at the shore of Helheim, he sent it away with a kiss on the forehead as his blessing and protection and an orb containing his magic as beacon to illuminate its journey across the abyss. Hela does not question him on his action but Loki can feel her curious gaze boring holes into his back every time he sent the soul off.
Though there was this one time where this soul had arrived with the chains mangled beyond recognition but still held intact by a flimsy single strand that persistently tried to hold everything together. Loki could have easily severed that strand by applying the slightest pressure to it with his magic but something stilled his hands, stopping him from releasing this soul from the agony that awaits it upon its return to the world of living.
It was the soft cry of a young voice, accompanied by the heart wrenching sobs that tore at the memories he had kept locked away behind the heavy door of his mind. Small orbs of light floated toward the soul he cradled in his arms and it brushed against the frayed link and the emblem imprinted to the man’s chest.
Each brush had the sobs echoing off from the orbs and Loki’s hand faltered from where he was about to wrap it around the chain. It reminded him too much of the time where he found his children crying over Angrboða’s lifeless body and that memories had him stopping.
So instead of using his hand to break the bond, Loki placed it flat on the tarnished crest of the Bat and allowed for his magic to flow into this battered soul. He watched as the magic curled around the mangled chain, holding it together as it slowly began to mend itself with the aid provided by his magic.
Loki was not aware how long he had sat by the shore of Helheim but by the time chain was mended enough to his satisfaction, the creatures that resided the realm had come sniffing for the unclaimed soul. Loki dispersed them with a flare of his magic in warning and they scampered away with sharp screeches of fear.
Huffing softly at the impudence of those creatures, Loki stands up to his feet with the soul cradled in his arms. He walked into the murky water of the abyss and stopped when it reached to his hips because any further than that, his own soul would be lost to the Void that this abyss is connected to. A mumbled spell had a small boat materializing before him and Loki gently laid the soul into it. With the state of the chain was in, not even his usual blessing and protection could protect the soul from the ravenous shadow that lurked in the abyss.
He leaned down to give his blessing to this soul but noticed the eyelids fluttering, struggling to open it but Loki cannot have that. The mortal will be forced to remain here if he were to lay eyes on the realm of the dead. So, he slid his palm over it, preventing the man from looking at the world beyond the veil of living.
“Hush mortal. Tis is not your time yet. Sleep.”
Loki whispered, the sleeping spell ensuring that the soul would remain unconscious until it reached beyond the border. He gave his blessing to the mortal man and take the time to trace the lax face with his fingers.
The kind of life that this mortal lived was not lost to him and Loki can only hope the young boy under this mortal man’s tutelage will not end up arriving to Helheim so soon. The child was too young, barely older than Fenrir was when his son was taken away in chains by Aesir soldiers that robbed him of everything.
With a gentle push of his hand, the boat began to float away, guided by the pull of the chain that will lead it back to where it came and with it, the orbs floated away too. This time, Loki waited for the boat to disappear from his sight before turning back toward the towering gate of Hela’s kingdom. He ignored the small hands of the abyss grasping at his legs, trying to lure him into the infinite Void down below.
Hela was there by the shore when he reached it and in her hand, was the green cloak that used to be Angrboða’s most favourite. He gave his daughter a smile that wavered around the edges, eyes brittle with emotions and she throws the cloak over his shoulders, pulling him into her embrace using it.
She held him close as the tears started to fall and said nothing as they stood by that shore.