The Beginning Of An End

Chapter 9

The first rays of sunlight spilled across the ruins, but it wasn't like the dawns I had seen in the mortal world. The light arrived with purpose, spilling over the land like the realm itself had decided it was time to wake.

I could feel it against my skin—not burning, not painful, but unfamiliar. Astral light was different from mortal light. Everything here carried a presence, and even something as simple as the sun felt alive.

Throughout the entire night my mind was filled with all how's and why's only to never come to any conclusion. There wasn't any new idea or clarity that had come to me in all this time. All I knew was that no matter where I'd wind up in the future, it'd be a step closer to doom. Quite a conveying message that was.

I looked over to Loki who was peacefully sleeping, surprising his snoring wasn't as bad this time. Or maybe I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even notice it. I slowly rose up and walked up to him before I started lightly shaking him.

"Wake up, we need to go." I shook him again, firmer this time. His eyes snapped open, startled, and he sat up so fast I half expected him to topple over. For a moment, he looked ready to strike me, then relaxed when he recognized me. He rubbed his eyes, muttering something about mornings being cruel.

"Shit, you really need to be gentler." Loki mumbled.

"You weren't responding at first." I explained myself to which he didn't reply. He just grunted softly and finally got up to his feet. His eyes glazed over every spot in this small ruin before fixating his gaze on me.

"Wow, everything's in one piece. I'm impressed that you managed to survive the night." He laughed and I had to roll my eyes. Hopefully he'd stop grumbling and get us out of this place soon. "Did you take my sword?" Loki asked with a small frown as he took the jacket that he used as a pillow and put it on.

"Yeah, I had to be on guard." I said and picked it up from the ground where I had been sitting previously.

"Good thing no one disturbed us, we would both be dead by now." He grumbled once again as I handed him the sword. The sword soon disappeared inside his coat again.

"Stop being a dick and get us out of here." I huffed and headed out of the ruin and waited for him to finally get out as well. It took a bit but soon Loki was dragging the summoning table outside. I grimaced in confusion. Once the table was out in the grass, he released it and looked up at me.

"We're summoning Freyr." The demigod mumbled, leaving me puzzled. Didn't they have telepathy like us demons have? Did they have to do this every time they wanted to meet up with each other? The only time I saw anyone summoning anything was the humans. This was actually the first time I actually saw someone prepare the summoning. This is equivalent to how new generations of humans feel when they see someone use a landline, I thought. I didn't comment, however, I didn't know if it would disturb the process. I just stood nearby watching him work.

The sword was out again, and he cut his palm. Blood poured freely, and he turned his hand upward, dipping a finger in the forming pool. With it, he traced a shape on the table—a rune. I didn't know which one; runes weren't my strong suit. From what little I'd learned, each major deity had their own. This one had to be Freyr's: a simple diamond, nothing more than a flipped square. Who would've thought such a small, unassuming shape could hold so much power?

When he finished, Loki pressed his bloodied palm into the center of the rune.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then he began to speak.

The words came quietly at first, almost too quiet for me to hear. I leaned closer, expecting some kind of familiar spell or incantation, but the language that left his mouth was unlike anything I had ever heard. Old Norse. Ancient. Harsh and fluid at the same time, each syllable carrying a weight that felt far older than the realm surrounding us.