Loki of Vanaheim (Part 3)

Lonely Road and Hearty Welcome (LOKI)

The steed's owner had no issues letting me take him back to Don, though I didn't share my mission with anyone. If the Vanir at the fortress caught word of Gorr's arrival, none of them spoke of it or acted the least bit fazed, though they somewhat notoriously kept their emotions well-hidden. It was never an easy task to infer what any of them were thinking, and even years of better practice with conduction didn't give me an edge.

Now that I traveled alone, part of me hoped to stumble across another hidden Vidar and have another taste of the future to see if I'd made the right choice. That was impossible, however; I didn't know the realm well enough to stray from the path. Freyr didn't answer any of my psychic calls, either because he was still angry with me, or he didn't think I would be much use from afar. Both made me feel adolescent and ignored.

The horse raced through the forests to our first campsite, stretching his limber black legs with abandon and showing me all his power. The wind biting my skin welcomed nostalgia as it did before. Memories of Thor were never far away when on horseback.

Perhaps Vali's request wasn't too far-fetched. After all, if he learned to care and respect an animal, surely that could help temper his inner beast? I planned to have a serious discussion with Sigyn when this was over about when the boys could earn responsibility.

But it wasn't over yet. Dreams of pastoral living would have to wait.

The night sky was hidden from me by a thick blanket of clouds, keeping me from seeing Mother's star again. I needed her encouragement more than ever. Losing my family was already a torturous thought, but the idea of them losing their lives while I remained, destined to mourn them forever? That was horror I couldn't invent on my own. Mother would have something insightful to say about second chances or having faith in myself—nothing I imagined was adequate comfort, however.

I arrived at the hilltop overlooking The Don City sooner than expected, just at moonrise the following day. From my perspective, the grand fortress was practically abandoned. People didn't teem through the streets like ants—they were absent. Torchlight surrounded the outer wall, but the center of the city wasn't illuminated at all, nor did the usual sound of music or buzzing commerce float above the area.

My gut twisted into a sickening knot. What do they know that I do not?

"Forward," I said to the animal. He was keen on my apprehension and approached the closed gates cautiously. They seemed taller than I remembered from only a few days ago, though that might've been because I'd never seen them shut. Unlike the entrance to my home fortress, the wood and stone used to create these were intimidating. The city's last defense against intruders had to be formidable.

The eerie quiet left me turning my head from side to side as if ghosts watched me from all angles. I was alone, yet couldn't be. The air was thick with oppressive fear. I dismounted and deliberately stepped with my toes since it felt inappropriate to disturb the silence.

My heart jumped with me at the bark behind the gate. "Who goes there?"

I froze with my hands up and tried to control my breathing. "Please, I mean you no harm."

"Show yourself. Step closer." He sounded strong, but young. A guard whose purpose was to watch for visitors. The shaking in his tone gave away his inexperience.

I did as he asked without argument, though. Had he posed a real threat to me, I would've been killed already. The torches on either side of the doors grew brighter as I stepped between them.

The boy gasped. "You. It's you! You've come!" His voice muffled as he clearly turned to direct someone else. "Fetch Senator Freyr. The Jotun man is here!"