Chapter 10
Loki opened the book and explained how spells were recorded. Each spell had a short summary of its intended effect. If necessary, a depiction of the required hand movements was included, both in text and moving images—like a sort of video. The last part of any spell was the incantation.
“As you can see, the incantation itself is not translated,” Loki explained. "While the All-Speak transforms the spell into a phonetic version you can use, it is still in another language. You must pronounce the spell exactly as it is written. The ancient language of Seiðr has long been lost, which is why it cannot be translated. So, no new spells can be created—only old spells can be used. While advanced Seiðr users can combine spells for a blended effect, it is impossible to create something entirely new."
I listened intently but could not help interrupting. "So, is there something you would want to do with magic but can’t just because there is no spell for it?"
Loki smiled. "There is a lot I wish I could do, but I do not know the spells. That does not always mean the spell does not exist—just that I have not found it yet. However, as far as I know, there is no magic that can alter time. You can speed up a person so they appear to move faster, or slow them down so they seem frozen. But stopping, reversing, or accelerating the flow of time? Impossible. Not even the Norns possess that power."
I nodded. "That is probably for the best. I cannot imagine what would happen if someone had that kind of power and used it for evil."
Loki considered my words. "That would be a disaster. They would be unstoppable. Long ago, there were magical relics capable of such feats. Infinity Stones, they were called. One of them could manipulate time. But thankfully, they were destroyed and lost to the void to prevent such a catastrophe."
For a moment, Loki seemed lost in thought before shaking his head and refocusing on me. "Now, for your first lesson." He clapped his hands and flipped through the book until he found the page he wanted: Minor Healing Spell.
"Let us see if we can do something about your hand," he said, motioning for me to read. "While the words will not work without the hand movements, they still hold power. So, do not say them out loud—practice them in your head."
I studied the page. The hand movement was simple: just hovering a few centimeters above the area to be healed. The incantation sounded foreign as I practiced it in my mind. The phonetic translation read: Nesta tîl alwa.
After a few moments, Loki motioned for me to look at him. "Now, I am going to help you clear your mind." He placed his hands on my temples. "Close your eyes and picture this room and nothing else."
I followed his instructions, feeling myself grow calmer. But his presence—his hands on my temples—was distracting.
"Do not focus on me. Focus on the room and nothing else. Block out all sounds and distractions. Calm your emotions. You are safe. You are calm," he instructed.
I forced myself to follow his words, trying not to blush.
"Now, think the words in your mind. Focus on pronouncing them internally. I will be able to hear them."
I obeyed, and a warmth emanated from Loki. "Your pronunciation is good, but stay focused. When you feel ready, open your eyes, place your good hand over your injured one, and say the words."
I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and placed my hand as instructed. "Nesta tîl alwa," I whispered.
A warmth stirred within me, flowing from my chest to my arm and into my hand. A faint tingling sensation spread through my injured hand, and as I watched, the bruises slowly faded. The warmth dissipated, and when I was sure the spell had finished, I removed my hand.
Loki withdrew his hands from my temples and took my now-uninjured hand in his, turning it gently. "How does it feel?"
I flexed my fingers. "Much better. I can still vaguely feel where the bruises were, but it is more like my mind expects them to be there rather than them actually being there."
When I looked back at Loki, he was grinning. "And that, Aurora, was your first magic spell. I must say, I am impressed. A success on the first attempt? I must be an excellent teacher." He smirked smugly.
I laughed at his expression—he looked genuinely pleased with himself.
"Normally, learning Seiðr is a slow process," Loki continued. "The early years focus on moral lessons and meditative exercises to instill discipline. But that is for children. With you, I chose a more practical approach. While I helped you clear your mind, the real challenge was connecting to your magic and directing it outward. That, you did on your own. You are a natural."
"So how do we continue?" I asked, eager to try more.
Loki’s eyes brightened at my enthusiasm.
"Well, I have an idea, but I would like to discuss it with you first." He shifted on the sofa, suddenly hesitant. "Typically, a teacher ensures a student has strong morals and mental discipline before allowing them to practice magic. But I already know you have a clear mind and strong principles. I trust that you will not do anything reckless with your magic."
I nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"When children learn magic, their Seiðr is weak. They are allowed to say spells aloud and discuss them freely with their teacher. Once their Seiðr matures, they must refrain from speaking spells aloud during practice—but by then, they have already learned proper pronunciation. Your Seiðr , however, is incredibly strong. I do not want to risk verbal discussions during lessons. The problem is, there will be times when I need to move around the room, and I will not always be able to maintain close contact to hear your thoughts."
He hesitated.
"I understand, but what do you propose?" I asked, sensing there was more on his mind.
“There are two ways we can move forward,” Loki said, looking away. “We can structure the lessons so that we begin with a discussion, covering everything I want to teach you that day. This will prepare you before attempting the actual spell. However, if you have a question while casting, we will have to stop and restart from the beginning once it is answered. I need to be close to ensure your pronunciation is perfect before adding the movements.”
“And the other option?” I asked, noticing Loki shifting slightly on the sofa. His unease piqued my curiosity.
“The other option is me using more magic on you.” He looked up to gauge my reaction.
I frowned, confused by his hesitation. I could feel his nerves, his fear that I would reject the idea.
“Loki, just tell me. I am not going to run away screaming just because you make a suggestion. As long as I have the freedom to make my own choice without pressure, we will be fine.”
I sensed him relax slightly. “I am sorry. I am just not used to people being comfortable with my powers. There is a difference between performing magic and using it directly on someone else. The latter is almost taboo—people rarely trust me enough to allow it. It is only done in emergencies, like healing magic. So, in the back of my mind, I always expect anger when I bring up these things.”
Understanding his apprehension, I smiled. Placing my hand over his, I gave a reassuring squeeze. “This is new for both of us, but I promise I will tell you if I am uncomfortable or if something is too much. I will not get mad. We need to trust each other, so I will be completely honest with you. And I trust you.”
Loki nodded. “Thank you, Aurora. I will keep that in mind. The second option is a linking rune. I would mark your skin with one, spelled so that others would not see it. You would do the same to me. The rune would link us, allowing us to communicate telepathically—similar to how Fenrir does, but with restrictions. We would have to consciously focus to use the link, ensuring only intended thoughts come through. There would also be a privacy lock, allowing either of us to disengage the link whenever needed. However, there is a small drawback: while communicating, we would sense each other’s most active emotions. I know you can already feel mine, but this would mean I could feel yours as well.”
He stopped, watching me closely.
I took a moment to process. “So, we would be able to communicate telepathically whenever we want, but only when you or I actively initiate it?”
Loki nodded.
“And there is no risk of activating it by accident? If I have a nightmare and scream in my sleep, I will not start broadcasting to you?”
Loki chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No, the rune will be warded. You can only connect when fully conscious and in control.”
That eased my concerns. “Okay. And you will not hear all my thoughts, only the ones I deliberately direct to you?”
“Exactly. Only what you choose to share.”
That reassured me further. “I understand the privacy lock. But what about the emotional link? Would you sense my emotions all the time, or only when we are using the link? And would you feel everything, or just the most obvious emotions? My empathic abilities work in layers—when I am near someone, I get a general sense of their emotions, but if I touch them, I feel much more.”
Loki looked thoughtful. “To be honest, I am not sure. I read about these links in an old book on Seiðr priestesses. They had guardians who used them to protect the priestesses. The book described the emotional sharing, but the intensity was said to depend on the closeness of the bond. What I can promise is that I can remove the link at any time without harm. If it ever becomes a problem, it can be undone easily.”
I sat quietly, considering. The rune seemed like a useful training tool, but the idea of him feeling my emotions gave me pause. It felt hypocritical—I sensed his emotions constantly, yet I hesitated at the thought of him sensing mine. For the first time, I fully grasped the responsibility that came with my gift.
“What are you thinking?” Loki asked.
“I just realized how intrusive it must be for others, knowing I can feel their emotions. I have never considered how it would feel from their perspective,” I admitted.
Loki’s expression shifted; he had not expected that response. But then understanding dawned.
“That is one reason my mother thought it best to keep your abilities secret. Empaths have existed before, but people avoided them, afraid their secrets would be exposed. Any power above the norm tends to isolate people. It did not help that the last known empath used his abilities to tease and manipulate others.”
I stiffened at that. I would never use my gift to exploit others—the very thought made my stomach churn. But being asked to share mine with him made me understand Loki’s feelings even more.
“Loki, I know we just talked about this, but are you really okay with how much I sense when I am near you? Especially when I touch you?”
He took a moment before answering. “Honestly? It is strange. I am so used to controlling how people perceive me, yet you see through that. You sense what is beneath the mask. But in a way, it is also a relief. I do not have to explain how I feel—you just know. It keeps me honest, and I need that. I want this friendship to work, and you help me stay true to myself.” He grinned. “And believe me, ‘honest’ is not a word most people associate with me.”
His playful tone made me laugh. The decision suddenly felt clear.
“I think I want to try the rune,” I said, smiling. “It makes sense for our training. And if you can live with me sensing your emotions, I can handle you sensing mine while we communicate.”
Loki’s eyes lit up.
“Also,” I added teasingly, “I like the idea of having my own personal guardian. After seeing you in the training yard, I could not imagine a more capable protector.”
Loki let out a full laugh, then knelt before me in a formal pose. “I promise you, Aurora, I will protect you to the best of my abilities as your guardian.”
Laughter erupted between us, filling the room with warmth.
The next hour was spent with Loki re-reading the rune spell. The text was in Old Norse, but he translated most of it so I could follow along. The only decision left was where to place the rune. While it would be invisible to others, we would still see it.
It was a beautiful symbol, and it did not need to be large. Loki explained that the rune itself represented the word guardian. I grinned at the thought—it was almost like getting matching tattoos. But I pushed that aside. This was about studying safely, nothing more.
Since we both had long hair, we settled on the base of the skull. Our hair would conceal the mark, and it was an easy spot to reach during the linking. With everything decided, all that remained was to cast the spell.
I had expected nerves, but instead, anticipation filled me. Using magic again felt right, and I knew I could trust Loki. He wouldn’t let me do anything reckless.
He tossed two soft pillows onto the floor in the middle of the room and, for the last time, made sure I understood every step.
We sat facing each other, our knees touching.
“It is still not too late to change your mind,” Loki said, his voice serious. I loved that he was making absolutely sure I wanted this.
“I’m not worried, Loki. I want to do this,” I reassured him with a smile.
The light in the room dimmed. We intertwined our left hands, fingers laced together, while our right hands pressed against the back of each other’s necks—where the marks would appear. Slowly, we leaned in until our foreheads touched, and I felt his calm settle over me like a soft embrace.
We sat there, steadying our breathing, until Loki began the vows.
He had explained that in ancient times, this ritual would have been a grand ceremony. The vows were not necessary for the spell, but we decided to include them anyway—pretending, just for a moment, that he truly was swearing himself to my service. Traditionally, guardians without seiðr took these vows to protect a priestess. Some priestesses were so important they had entire regiments guarding them.
Loki spoke first.
“I, Loki, vow to protect and guard you, Aurora, to the best of my abilities. I will keep you safe and look out for you for as long as you will have my service.”
My turn.
“I, Aurora, accept your vow, Loki. I will have you guard me to the best of your abilities, and in return, I will do my best to keep you safe and cherish your vow for as long as I have your service.”
Loki gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Then, as one, we spoke the incantation.
A wave of warmth ignited in my chest and spread outward, flowing through my hands into Loki. At the same time, his warmth surged into me, our magic intertwining. The sensation left me dizzy as our joined hands began to glow—his an emerald green, mine a deep teal. Where our hands met, the colors blended into a rich bluish-green.
Heat flared at the base of my skull where his hand rested, and I knew he felt the same from my touch. Before I could adjust, a final pulse of magic surged between us, and then—just as quickly as it had begun—the glow faded, leaving the room in stillness.
We remained where we were, foreheads touching, breath unsteady. Loki’s chest rose and fell quickly, and I was sure he could hear the pounding of my heart.
Then, a soft tingle bloomed at the back of my neck.
And suddenly, I heard his voice inside my head.
Aurora, can you hear me?
I pulled back, meeting his eyes, and nodded. His smile widened. He released my hands and leaned back just enough to break contact.
“Try focusing on me,” his voice echoed in my mind. “See if you can say something back.”
I inhaled deeply, centering myself. The bond hummed faintly as I thought of him.
Like this? Is this working?
His grin confirmed the answer before he even spoke.
Yes. It seems that it is, he replied instantly.
And how do I feel to you? I asked, curious.
Loki’s expression turned thoughtful. “It is very strange,” he admitted. His excitement rippled through the bond, but he tried to explain.
“It is as if I still feel like myself, but when we communicate, there is more. I know it is coming from you. I can tell that you are excited but also a little overwhelmed by the magic. You are tired and a bit dizzy too.”
Everything he said was true. I smiled, but a flicker of something else reached me—uncertainty.
You know I can feel that, I sent through the bond. What’s wrong?
Loki shook his head slightly. “It is nothing bad,” he admitted. “The vows were only ceremonial, and the spell was meant to create the mark. But you felt it too—our seiðr glowing and merging. That was not mentioned in the book. Usually, spells are documented in detail, and this… this was not mentioned.”
He hesitated. “I think I am feeling more from you than I should. The new bond was only meant to convey basic emotions—whether you are all right, happy, or sad. But I can sense details. I know what you are feeling. That should not be possible in a bond this new.”
A charged silence settled between us. Something about this spell had worked differently than it was supposed to. And neither of us knew why.
It was Loki who finally spoke aloud.
“The level of detail—the fact that I can feel your exhaustion—it surprises me. To be honest, the spell took more magic than I anticipated. I did not realize just how intense it was when I read about it. But after what we just experienced, I see I may have miscalculated. If I had known it would drain this much seiðr from both of us, I would not have done it so soon in your training. That is why, for now, I think we should limit our use of the bond and talk like this instead. I do not want to risk you ending up in the healing ward after your first lessons. My mother would surely kill me if that happened.”
We took a moment to experiment with the privacy lock on the link. It was fairly simple—just a matter of focusing on turning it off, which cut the flow of magic to the rune. When deactivated, neither of us could reach the other. It felt like speaking to a void.
But when one of us thought about activating the rune, the other felt a faint tingle at the back of the neck—a subtle signal of reactivation. It was the same tingle I felt before Loki spoke to me. I was relieved there was a tell; at least I would not be startled every time he used the link.
The last thing I wanted to do was see the mark.
“Loki, can I see your mark? I am curious how it looks.”
He took my hand and helped me to my feet. Leading me to the small sofa, he motioned for me to sit before settling in front of me on the floor with his back turned. He tilted his head down to give me a better view of his neck.
I ran my fingers gently through his hair, sweeping it to one side to reveal the mark.
“How does it look?” Loki asked curiously.
“It is beautiful.” And it truly was. “It matches the rune from the book, but when I touch it, it glows slightly. It is fascinating to see.”
I traced my fingertips lightly over the mark.
“Every time I touch it, it lights up in a soft teal—the same color my hands turned during the ceremony.”
“I wonder,” Loki mused, reaching up to touch his own neck. “Does it glow when I touch it?”
As his fingers brushed the rune, it shimmered in the same teal hue.
“Yes, it does. Just like when I touch it.”
Loki stood and took a seat beside me on the couch.
“May I see yours?” he asked almost politely.
I grinned and turned my back to him.
His long, slender fingers swept my hair over my shoulder. The moment his fingertips brushed against my skin, I had to fight back a shiver. My neck was terribly ticklish, and his touch was maddeningly light.
“Does mine glow too?” I asked, trying to focus on anything other than his fingers.
“Indeed, it does,” he said, excitement lacing his tone. “But yours glows emerald green. I believe it means that I now carry a bit of your magic within my rune, and you hold some of mine. That would explain how the link functions—why our colors differ.”
Loki pressed his palm against my mark and murmured a few words under his breath. A faint surge of magic swept through me. As I turned back, I saw him repeat the process on himself.
“I shielded them,” he explained. “No one else will be able to see them.”
“So, how did you like your first lesson?”
I laughed, feeling lighthearted despite my exhaustion. “It was fascinating, to say the least. But I liked it very much.”
A yawn escaped before I could suppress it. Magic had drained me far more than expected.
Loki glanced at the clock on the wall.
“It is only four in the afternoon. If you do not mind, I suggest a nap before dinner. I would rather not explain to my mother what we did. If she sees how tired you are, she will surely know we attempted more than basic magic.”
I agreed but dreaded the thought of walking back to my chambers. I was far too comfortable on the sofa. I considered asking him to teleport me, but he spoke first.
“I have been thinking,” Loki began, “that it would be useful to move between this room and yours unnoticed. You know the bookcase connects the library to this space, but it also houses a book that allows me direct access to my chambers. If I exhaust myself, I can retreat there without effort.
If you wish, I could add a book that links to your room. That way, when you are too tired to walk through the palace, you could return easily. It would also allow us to train at night if our schedules prevent it during the day—without the entire palace noticing.”
I felt Loki grow slightly hesitant before he added, “I give you my word that I will not enter your room without permission.”
I had not even considered that he would have unrestricted access to my quarters. I fought the urge to blush.
“I trust you,” I said honestly. “And I think it is a good idea. Seeing how exhausted I am now, I truly don’t want to walk back to my room.” Another yawn slipped past my lips.
“It will take me some time to establish the connection. Might I suggest you rest here while I work? I will wake you when it is ready.”
I nodded in response. He took a pillow and placed it at one end of the sofa, gesturing for me to lie down. The moment I did, he flicked his hand, and a soft green blanket wrapped snugly around me. It was warm and impossibly comfortable.
Tired as I was, I focused on the rune on my neck and thought, Thank you, knowing he could sense my gratitude.
A gentle warmth pulsed from him in response. Do not mention it.
Then, turning his attention to the bookshelf, he began working. I tried to watch, always captivated by his magic, but sleep overtook me within seconds.