The Origin of Fear

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

        After a frustrating hour of attempting to follow Loki’s directions and taking a wrong turn more times than she could count, Fera finally found herself at one end of a long hallway lined with nearly two dozen doors. She slowly continued forward, gawking at the cavernous, unfamiliar hallway as she silently cursed herself for not asking Sif or the Warriors Three to take her to the infirmary and instead relying on Loki’s apathetically-given directions. 

        At last, she came to the fourteenth door on the left side of the hallway, and frowned as she looked up at it. While most of the doors were made of dark wood and of average size, the one Loki had sent her to towered over the rest, heavy and gold, with two guards standing watch outside it. Fera briefly gazed up at it in wonder, amazed at how seriously Asgard seemed to take its medicine. A sharp throb in her shoulder reminded her of her purpose; she glanced at one of the guards, who opened the door for her passively. She stepped inside, expecting to see rows upon rows of beds, shelves of herbs and healing recipes, and healers ready to tend to her limp arm. 

        Instead, when Fera walked through the door, she found herself in what looked like a living room, complete with an unlit fireplace, a large bookshelf, and a luxurious armchair, on which sat a familiar prince holding a leather-bound brown book in his lap. Loki looked up at her as she entered, closing the book with a snap. Little bits of dust flew into the air as he did so. 

        “Took you long enough,” he remarked. 

        “Sorry?” Fera replied as she glanced around the room, bewildered. Loki gave a dry chuckle, standing from his armchair and setting the book onto a table beside him.

        “I knew you would get lost, but honestly, my directions weren’t that complicated,” Loki said, frowning at her.        “How is that?” he asked, nodding toward her shoulder. 

        “Quite painful,” she quipped. Her arm was throbbing angrily and Fera was sure she would need some sort of medicine to combat the infection that was probably spreading through it. “Where exactly am I?” she asked in a steady voice, trying her best to remain polite toward the prince and not let her annoyance show.

        “These are my chambers,” Loki said proudly, his arm making a sweeping motion around his parlor. 

        “I see,” Fera replied slowly, raising her eyes to the ornate chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling above her. It was almost as large as the empty fireplace to her left, which was so cavernous it could have easily accommodated someone twice her height. “I believe I asked for directions to the infirmary, Your Grace,” 

        “Ah...so you did,” he said in a polite tone, turning his back to her. He sauntered toward a small dresser along the wall, opened a drawer, and pulled out a vial of black liquid. “The healers really aren’t terribly adept here, and they don’t care much for anyone besides the royal family,” 

        “And you do?” Fera questioned suspiciously. Loki smiled and tossed the vial to her. She caught it with one hand and regarded it carefully. 

        “I make exceptions,” came his smooth reply. 

Fera subtly tilted the vial of liquid toward the window. It was dark as pitch, and so thick that not even sunlight passed through it. “What is this?”

        “Medicine,” he said simply, closing the drawer behind him. 

        “I doubt the healers just give you medicine to carry about with you,” she muttered, turning the vial upside down. It didn’t flow through the vial as she did so, instead keeping its shape like thick syrup.