Madness of the Serpent

Education

As the spirit rested on the long, navy blue cushioned seat, a comforting hum beneath its arms and feet, it stared out of the circular window and contemplated how it arrived to this point.

It had awoken in this very spot, at first confused as to how it got there, then alarmed from the unfamiliar surroundings, and finally filled with panic at the memory of its attempted escape. This had not been helped by the sudden shadow of the Jotun-Asgardian towering overhead. It had shrunk back as the Loki had slowly leaned over, placing his palm on the back of its seat as he peered closely into its face.

"You attempted to run away," he said, his voice low and even, almost conversational. But it was learning to gauge his intentions rather than believe the face he presented to the world. His voice frequently disguised his motives – it was his eyes that often spoke the truth.

And his eyes at this moment were hard and piercing, trapping it in a state of paralysis.

"Why?" he asked, his inflection strangely flat, as if the answer did not matter – but his glittering eyes indicated otherwise.

"The door was unbarred," it answered with as much impassivity as it could gather, finding this a difficult feat to accomplish with the Loki mere inches away. "It wanted to explore its surroundings."

The Jotun-Asgardian did not respond immediately, though his eyes moved back and forth as he searched its eyes carefully.

The spirit remained completely still, muscles tensed to the point of breaking as it waited for him to identify whatever he sought – hoping he would find nothing duplicitous or suspicious, causing him to lash out in anger at the spirit.

Finally, his expression softened imperceptibly, and it let go of the breath it did not realize it had been holding as he slowly pulled back.

"Is that all? You need not have done so. I was planning on bringing you with me on this spectacular adventure."

"Adventure?" the spirit inquired, more relieved it had passed his scrutiny than it was curious as to where they were or how they had arrived there.

"Take in the view," he stated, the corner of his mouth moving upward in amusement. "Through the porthole to your left."

Finding its interest growing despite its uncertain predicament, the spirit followed his instructions, its eyes widening as it saw nothing but a sea of fluffy white foam far below.

"How?" it asked. Even though there were several questions running through its mind at that moment, least of all how they were suspended in the air, it found its eyes wide in fascination as it studied the carpet of white froth – most likely some kind of atmospheric suspended liquid particles.

"Primitive human engineering. One of their favorite endeavors is to climb aboard perilous metal tubes and propel themselves through the air at reckless speeds, held together with little more than flimsy rivets and rusty bolts." The Loki spoke as he settled onto a plush seat on the other side of the cramped quarters. His seat faced the middle of the air vessel, rather than forward, so the Jotun-Asgardian could stare straight at the spirit while it had to turn its head to the right to look at him.

It did so now, looking over its shoulder to see the mirthful expression on his face. Unfortunately, the movement of its head caused an ache to radiate from the left side of its face. It gently touched its cheek, puzzled at the discomfort caused by its fingers grazing over the unpleasant raised area on its face.

The Loki stared at it for a quiet moment, his lips pursed together in a slight frown.

"Do you understand how close you were to death?" his soft voice inquired, pale blue eyes fixed on its face intently.