Wrong Number. (AvengersxOC)

||Seas the Day||

The dim light flickered erratically overhead as they strode thought he empty halls of the seemingly abandoned estate. Their long cape trailed behind like shadow brought to life. each step echoed ominously against the crackled, grey marbled stone floors, reverberating thought the silence that enveloped the once-grand corridors. Dust mites danced in the beams of fading light, creating an ethereal atmosphere, yet the air was heavy with a palpable tension.

Their silhouette was imposing, a figure wrapped in dark fabric that seemed to absorb the light around them. The cape billowed slightly with each movement, giving the impression of a dark creature gliding through the remnants of a forgotten world. As they walked, a sense of purpose radiated from them, a quiet confidence that suggested they had traversed these halls many times before. 

The walls, lined with peeling wallpaper and framed portraits of long dead ancestors, whispered secrets of the past. They paused before one portrait, its face obscured by age and neglect. A giant smirk curled their lips, a cruel pleasure taken form the decay that surrounded the,. here, in this desolate place, they felt a connection to the power that had once thrived, now reduced to mere echoes 

As they continued, they could almost hear the whispers of the spirits that lingered, trapped between realms. The chill in the air heightened, wrapping around them like an embrace, They welcomed it, reveling in the remnants of despair that clung to the walls. each room they passed held memories of laughter, of life-- now replaced by a haunting stillness that echoed their own dark ambitions. 

At the end of the corridor, a set of ornate double doors loomed, slightly ajar. Their hear quickened, and exhilarating thrill coursing through their veins. This was the heart of the estate, the throne room, where the power of the past lay dormant, waiting to be awakened. With a flick of her wrists, the heavy doors swung open, the creak of the ancient hinges cutting through the silence like a knife. 

Inside the room was cloaked in shadows, illuminated only by a faint glimmer of moonlight filtering through broken windows. Dust hung in the air like a shroud, and in the center, an alter stood, remnants of a ritual long forgotten. They stepped forward, cape swirling around them, and surveyed the scene with dark anticipation. here, they would reclaim what was lost and forge a new legacy in the depths of despair that had once defined this place.

with a chilling smile, the bent down and reached out, fingers brushing around the roughened stone altar, ready to breathe life back into the shadows that awaited their return.  As they traced their fingers over the dusty altar, a soft rustle echoed from the shadows, causing them to turn sharply. Emerging into the dim light was their young offspring, eyes wide with curiosity, innocence radiating from every step.

"Mother! I found you!" the child exclaimed, a bright smile lighting up their face. They were likely no older than eight years old, smaller than the average. Her expression softened momentarily, the stark contrast between darkness they embodied and the light in the child's eyes almost..startling. 

"ᛗᚤ ᛚᛁᛏᛏᛚᛖ ᛋᛏᚨᚱ." she replied, their voice a smooth blend of affection and an underlying tension. "What brings you here? Where's your brother?" (My little star: Old Norse)

"I wanted to see where you go when you disappear!" the child said, bouncing on their toes. "It's so big and empty here! Can we play?" She chuckled, a low sound that marly could mask the deeper intentions. "This isn't a place for playing, Aegir."

"What's that, then mother?" he pointed to the alter. Her lips pursed, eyes tearing away from the small child, to the alter. "Is it treasure?" the child asked. "Treasure, yes." she said, crouching down to meet her child's gaze. "but it's a treasure that requires..care. You must understand, my dear, some treasures can bring great power. others...fanger."

The child's brow furrowed, innocence faltering for a moment. "Danger? But I want to help! I want to be like you!" A flicker of pride danced in her eyes, before it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve. "You can my star, soon...You'll learn great strength..." They reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from the child's face, the tenderness almost at odds with the lingering purpose.

Aegir, beamed with enthusiasm, reached up to grab her hand, their small fingers wrapping around the larger, gloved hand. Together, they began to walk down the long corridors, the flickering light casting wavering shadows that danced along the walls.

"Tell me more about the treasure!" the child chirped, skipping slightly to keep pace. "What will we do with it?"

her heart twisted altho he innocence in her child's voice. "We will reshape this world, my dear. we will show them the power of what lies hidden in the darkness," they replied, voice low and filled with conviction. The echoes of their footsteps seemed to carry a weight that pressed against her resolve, but the child's excitement buoyed their spirits. 

As they approached a dimly lit alcove, a sudden rustle broke the silence, and the atmosphere shifted. She paused instinctively pulling their child closer. from the shadows emerged a figure, cloaked in darkness, his prescience exuding an air of familiarity tinged with tension.

"Astoria," the figure whispered, voice soft yet laced with urgency. It was her brother, a man whose very existence seemed to contrast with the dark path she had chosen. His eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto hers with a mixture of concern and disbelief. 

"Fenrir," Astoria replied, an edge creeping onto her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I felt a disturbance," he said, glancing down at the child, whose innocent gaze flickers between he two adults, "You shouldn't be here, not with....Not with what you're planning." 

"Planning?" Aegir interjected, looking up at Astoria, confusion knitting their brow. "Are we playing a game?" Astoria forced a smile, a mask that barely concealed the storm brewing inside her. "Just a little adventure, my star. Your uncle doesn't understand."

Fenrir stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "This is more than an adventure, Astoria You're meddling with forces beyond your control. The shadows have a way of consuming everything, even those we hold dear."

Astoria's trip tightened on her child's hand, her expression hardening. "I will not be swayed by your fears. I am reclaiming what is rightfully ours. The power that lies within in the realm is ours to wield."

Aegir, sensing the rising tension, tugged at Astoria's hand. "Can we still find the treasure? Please, can we?" Fenrir's expression softened as he looked at the child, a flicker or warmth breaking through his concern. "There are treasures that son't require darkness, little one. You can choose a different path."

Astoria shot him a warning glance, her voice low but firm. "We will find our way, Fenrir. Stay out of this."

As they continued down the corridor, the tension between the siblings hung in the air, thick and charged, The child walked between them, blissfully unaware of the rift forming, their laughter echoing down the hall- a haunting melody intertwined with the shadows that watched. waiting for the moment to claim what they desired. 

As they round a corner, another small figure emerged from the shadows, a second child darting into view with a mischievous grin. The twin boy, with tousled dark hair and bright greenish eyes, quickly joined his brother, bubbling with excitement. "Look, Eir! I found a trinket. Oh! Hello mother, and uncle!." he exclaimed, bouncing on his feet as he clutched a small, rusted trinket in his hand. "What's going on?"

Astoria's heart sank slightly, knowing her brother's gaze would shift to the new arrival, their innocence amplifying the weight of her choices. "No matter, we were on our way to find you my little raven. Let's go for an adventure." she said.