I couldn't tell how long I had been sitting there, reading one book after another. Whenever I found something interesting, I made a mental note of it, piecing together a rough understanding of the world I now inhabited.
Even so, there wasn't much useful information to gather from these books. More than half of them were filled with theories of magic and research on monsters. There was little about culture and history, and when there was, the writing was so faded it was almost illegible.
Well… I couldn't blame them, considering the limitations of their technology. Besides, the Norse people passed down their history and culture orally, rather than recording it in writing as modern people do.
"If only they had realized that oral traditions wouldn't last forever, they would've written more of their culture into ancient manuscripts, like the Greeks did."
Suddenly, a cold sensation crept down my spine, like the prickling weight of an unseen gaze. I looked up, scanning the room. There was no one there. Just rows of silent bookshelves standing watch in the stillness. Yet, the feeling lingered, heavy in the air.
I tried to ignore it and returned my focus to the book in my hands, only for the faint sound of footsteps to break the quiet, drawing closer. I looked up again and found Loki standing right behind me, arms crossed over his chest.
"Lord Loki," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, unable to mask my surprise at his presence.
"Just call me Loki. Or you could call me Uncle, if you prefer." He offered a faint smile, a friendly curve to his lips, almost disarming.
I frowned. "There's no way I could call you that."
"Then at least call me Loki when no one else is around."
I hesitated, weighing his request before nodding reluctantly. "I understand, Loki."
"Much better."
Loki pulled out a nearby chair and sat down across from me, one leg crossed over the other. He picked up a book I had just finished, glanced at it briefly, and set it back down with deliberate care.
His lips curled into a subtle, enigmatic grin, the kind that hinted at some hidden scheme. "Are you interested in magic, Yatagarasu?"
"It's not that I'm particularly interested," I replied, "but I wouldn't mind learning a bit. It might come in handy in the future."
"I could teach you if you'd like."
My eyes widened as I stared at him in disbelief.
"What's with that look? I'm serious. I see potential in you, the makings of a great sorcerer."
"You're not joking, are you?"
"I'm not. That's precisely why I'm interested in you."
I paused, considering his offer. Magic wasn't my primary goal, but given the conflicts with the gods ahead, learning magic didn't seem like a waste of time.
What puzzled me, though, was why he would offer this to me. We had fought before, relying on physical techniques rather than magic. I couldn't even sense mana in my body yet.
"Very well. I accept your offer."
"A wise choice."
Once again, he flashed that cryptic grin, one that made it impossible to discern his true intentions. He was as complex as the other Loki, Fenrir's father.
Snap.
Loki snapped his fingers, and a magic circle appeared beneath our feet. I recognized the patterns and colors immediately; they were identical to the teleportation magic he'd used before.
Was this the same spell as last time?
A moment later, my body was whisked away from the library, transported to an unknown destination by his teleportation magic.
******
[POV ???]
My footsteps echoed through the dark, foreboding underground corridor, matching the somber hue of the cloak I wore. The faint light of deer-fat lamps cast a dim glow, guiding me through this hidden place, unreachable even by Lord Loki's magic.
I continued walking until I reached an old wooden door, its surface worn and decayed by time. Grasping the rusted handle gently, I pulled it open. The creak of the hinges grated against my ears as the door swung wide.
I stepped into the dim, stale room and approached a wooden table in the center. Once there, I sank into an old chair, its frame creaking under my weight.
"I must contact Him immediately," I muttered, pulling out a crystal orb hidden beneath my dark robes.
Bringing the orb close to my lips, I whispered soft incantations. The crystal's surface shimmered faintly, and I held my breath, calming my erratic heartbeat as I waited.
After a moment, the orb glowed, revealing the visage of an older man with a stern face and an eyepatch over his right eye. I smiled faintly, relieved that he had answered my urgent call.
"My lord," I greeted softly, though urgency tinged my voice. "There is something I must report."
"Speak," he replied. "My loyal shield-maiden, Valkyrie."
I took a deep breath, steadying myself before delivering the critical news. "Fenrir… the wolf-girl who heralds destruction… is here."
The lord on the other end of the crystal fell silent at my report. His expression grew more solemn, though no trace of surprise crossed his features. It seemed he had already anticipated Fenrir's actions after her release from her bindings.
"I see… so they truly failed in their mission. No wonder they have not returned to Asgard. Well… there is little we can do for those who have fallen, other than to honor their memory."
His words hung heavy in the air, a note of deep sorrow resonating in his voice. He was always like this when a god perished, trying to remain composed, though the weight of loss pressed heavily on his aging shoulders.
"How long do you think she will stay there?"
"Forgive me, my lord. I believe she may linger for a while, as she seems to have grown close to the princess Linnie. However, I cannot estimate how long she intends to remain."
"That's enough, Valkyrie. I will dispatch Thor and some of your sisters once they have completed their tasks in Midgard. Until then, remain vigilant and do not act recklessly. Remember, she is a monster who could devour you in one bite."
"Understood, my lord. I will stay alert and refrain from acting rashly."
I nodded in silence, bowing my head in respect and signaling my full comprehension of his orders.
"Take care of yourself. If this conversation goes on too long, Loki may sense it."
"Yes, my lord."
The image of my lord slowly faded, along with the light of the crystal orb. Moments later, the oppressive darkness of the room returned, wrapping itself around me.
I exhaled deeply, leaning back against the cold wooden table behind me. The chill of the room seemed to bite at my skin, though it wasn't the cold that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Fenrir…" I whispered, the word barely audible, as if afraid to speak it aloud. "Who in their right mind dared to release that beast?"
My eyes wandered across the narrow space until they landed on a large painting hanging on the wall, a figure who had been displayed there for as long as I could remember. Silent yet seemingly gazing into both the past and the future with unshakable wisdom.
"If that beast is not dealt with soon…" My voice trailed off, laden with uncertainty I didn't dare voice. "Who knows what will become of us all in the distant future?"
I closed my eyes, allowing the room's suffocating silence to envelop my turbulent thoughts. Beyond these stone walls, past the shadowy corridors, the world moved on, blissfully unaware of the looming