The Family Lokison (Part 4)

Empty (SIGYN)

Bud-dum. Bud-dum. Bud-dum.

Loki wept at my side as we ran. He pulled me along with his arm on my waist through the darkness.

Blink.

He breached the final set of doors by pulling on off the broken hinges, then took my hand again. "This way. Not too far, now."

Unsteady feet. Cold hands. Slick floors. Deep in my stomach, hiccup. Hiccup. Slower than my heartbeat.

Blink.

Hair blew in my face. My own. We left the palace behind and flew above it. A shaking skiff. I stared at Loki from behind as he steered. From this angle, he was statuesque. Completely rigid and immovable except for his flowing locks.

I felt caked in mud. Sticky. Unworthy of his audience let alone his love. I leaned over the edge to find out where we were, half expecting to lose consciousness again. Instead, the city crumbled below us. Dust and rubble followed our path, nearly catching us.

It should've frightened me, but fear was a concept that had no shape. My mind was a blank slate.

Buildings and streets came to an end. Our skiff wobbled when we flew over the ocean as the currents changed. The rainbow bridge was a guide to the Bifrost, but the water moved backward. It sank in the city instead of trickling over the edge like it should've. From our position, the scope of Asgard changed entirely; I looked back over our old home and barely recognized anything. The mountains—all gone. The palace—collapsing, one tower at a time, in on itself and plummeting into nothing.

"Ginny, we'll have to run," Loki said, slowing the skiff but not turning to me. "Heimdall is waiting for us."

Sure. Fine. I had no answers. Shed no more tears. I ran out of fight, of passion, of heartache. There simply wasn't enough of me left to break.

Blink. On the bridge. Hollow thumps with every footstep. We were alone, except for the gatekeeper, standing at the gold sword shining ahead.

Loki called to him. "We're the last. Leave the sword. Leave it!"

Heimdall shed tears as he stared at Asgard. It was his home, too. All of us. Seeing him weep—a being of such formidable strength—was enough confirmation for me that the era was over.

The Bifrost cogs stalled when the bridge shook a final time. Loki and I watched it break in the center, snapping like a twig and releasing us from the carnage of the burning city in the background.

"Last chance," Heimdall said, eerily calm. He waved his hands toward us.

Loki pulled my hand and leapt into the Bifrost stream, somehow managing to hold me against his chest once inside. The roar I feared when we first traveled through it began to wheeze. No more prisms of beauty—the lights were all red. Cinders of Yggdrasil. It went on forever. We floated for hours. Or seconds. Or moments. I couldn't recall.

Bud-dum. Bud-dum.

***

Hard ground. Rough. Dry. Heavy gravity—even heavier than Asgard. Still against Loki's chest, but my feet were bare against the soil.

No more whooshing magic. No more wind. No more shaking. My ears rang in a discordant symphony. I sucked air through my nose—smoky, acrid, but air—filling my lungs and registering my heart. It was dark with my eyes closed. Dark with them open. Not black, and not night, but polluted. My senses recalibrated one by one.

Shifted my feet. Oh, my ankle—the right one was twisted. Landed on it wrong. My knees, sore and scratched. Bruises over my arms. Hela spun in my belly, but I felt no joy, too sick from hunger and worry.

Loki pulled me in tighter. He buried his face in my neck and sobbed.

I had nothing for him. No comfort or kisses. I dug my fingernails into my palms.

Wake up. Wake up.

Voices muttered around us. Friendly and familiar, though quiet and cautious in the same measure. A gasp.

"Freyr, no," Grid said, blubbering like I'd never heard. "What will happen to us all?"

The old man didn't reply. Their code meant nothing now anyway, so what was the use in being curious?

A quiet voice next. By my knees. "Mum?"

Loki immediately released me and took Vali instead, lifting him off the ground and breathing in his essence.

I was immobile, standing as if a rod replaced my spine, staring at nothing. Through the daze, I saw them clearly. One full grown, one miniature. A perfect pair, father and son, always matched and meant for each other.

Now my match was gone.

Loki didn't stand long before dropping to his knees and crying ever harder. He rocked with Vali, who didn't struggle or fuss at all. Our son fearfully searched our faces, solving the riddle of all our despair without subjecting us to the agony of questions.

Except one. He shook his head until Loki let him stand alone. "Did I leave him behind?" Vali asked, twisting his hands and sniffling. "Is it my fault?"

"Oh, Vali," Loki said, sweeping his hair back. "No. You didn't leave him behind. Narvi's...he's watching us, now. Like my mother. He's in Valhalla."

"I ran like he told me to." Vali dropped his face and broke my heart all over again with his sobs. "I'm sorry."

I didn't blink as a tear dropped down my cheek. Then another. Each of us had a question—what could we have done?—which cloaked our family in a collective shroud of guilt.

Wake up. Wake up.

A small hand found mine and pulled me down. I knelt smoothly for him, but the trance didn't change.

Vali stood in front of me and forced my eyes to see his. Jewels in his face. He kissed the center of my forehead, holding my face still in a quiet ritual. For what, I didn't know. He backed up and no longer looked like a boy. A young man was before me. Aged unnaturally. Not in body, but spirit. A fusser no more. "I'm here to protect you. Whatever you need."

He didn't melt my insides the way Narvi could, but this was a new gift. A rebirth for all of us. "Oh, my love." My hoarse voice could barely croak out the words, but I pushed them through and took his hands. "You are exactly what I need."

Vali fell against me and Hela tapped within. They had hope.

I was empty.