The Old Gods | Book 2

Seven: Torments of the Mind

She dreamt of deep space then. Nebulae and twisting galaxies. Colours. Stars burning brightly - and then their light is snuffed out and it was nothing but darkness. It made her feel uncomfortable and sick. Floating in space and then in nothingness. She didn't want to be here anymore.

And when she finally woke. She was in darkness. Her own heart leaped from her chest thinking her dream was naught but that; A reality. She coerced her body to move and every muscle was cramped and stiff. Breath; in and out. Relax.

The goddess winked her eyes trying to come to the place that she was. She finds her wrists are bound with thick cuffs and that her clothes are stripped of her. Her hands come up to her chest. Her undergarments and trousers are still there.

She moved carefully. Hurting and confused. She thinks she can see shapes in the dark but her mind could be playing tricks. She muttered a word that would bring a light into her hands to help her see, but nothing happened. She remained in darkness and no light appeared in her hands.

Maybe she said it wrong.

Still. Nothing happened.

What trickery is this?

Sigyn sits up and her bare feet find the cold ground. The bed on which she lay creaked and she could feel they offered her a very thin mattress. She felt weak and not just in her body. Her magic felt like a giant wall was pushing it back and keeping it suppressed deep within her. Her mind is hazy and her thoughts felt like someone took them all into a jar shook them around and put them back inside her mind.

The lights turned on and it was sudden for the goddess. Bright white lights pierced her sore eyes and she scrunched them up to escape it. Her room is small and the walls are white too. Her eyes took a long time to adjust as they were forced to remain closed. To one side of the room is a large mirror.

Sigyn stood to her feet and approached the mirror. Her white hair is disheveled and a bruise is forming on her neck. She looked down at her shackles. Her mouth opens. Asgardian gold binds her wrists. She looked around at the walls.

A camera in the far corner and a solid door.

"Who goes?" she tried to call out, hoping for a reply. She never got one.

Sigyn spent hours pacing her cell. Her magic binded. Feet are sore. Her wrists grow heavy from these shackles. Is this what her brother felt? Is this the torment he has endured for the last few centuries? Being locked away with nothing but himself to rot away in the dungeons of Vanaheim. No magic and a disturbed mind.

Is this what he feels?

Torment. Anguish. Anger. Sadness. Fear.

Sigyn can't recall the last time she visited her brother in that dark damp cell. It wasn't... It must have been... a very long time, she concluded. She remembers.... yes... she remembers when the guards ceased Sigvard on the orders of the King in the throne room. She remembers the way they marched on him and took his arms behind his back.

She remembers the way he cried when they did that. The way he thrashed and kicked like a distressed horse. The way he screamed and shouted his innocence. Her father stood there emotionless. "Father!" he screamed. "Father!" he screamed louder, as they brought him to his knees.

"Sigvard the Tainted, prince of Vanaheim, first of his name, Heir to Vanaheim and my first son. You are charged with treason of the highest order; murder, and plots against your realms and your family. You are charged with the death of Baldur, and the imprisonment and framing of Prince Loki of Asgard, son of Odin. You are charged with the death of Nanna, princess of Vanaheim, and my daughter. You are charged with the death of Narvi, Prince of Asgard, and Vanaheim, son of Loki and Sigyn. You are charged with the disturbance of Prince Vali of Asgard and Vanaheim, son of Loki and Sigyn. You are charged with treachery against your king, your realm, and your kin. I, Iwaldi, King of Vanaheim, strip you of all your titles and power. I, hereby sentence you to life."

Sigyn remembers the tear her father shed. The way they carried - no - dragged away her brother and he screamed and cried like his head was about to be put to the butcher's block. The realms demanded he put to the sword but by the mercy of their father, he instead locked him away.

Sigyn understands now. Death would be sweeter, and he doesn't deserve death.

The mirror on the wall then turned hazy and suddenly it was a window. On the other side stands the same man. "Allow me to introduce myself." he said. "I am Daniel Whitehall."

"Why should I care who you are?"

"Because I am the man who is your captore," he replied, snarkily. "It was me who drew you out and put you in this cell."

"Then it is you, who will die. Asgard and Vanaheim will come looking and you will have the wrath of the gods upon your head."

He laughed, looking around. "I don't see any of your friends."

"They will come for me." she threatened, knowing the Bifrost is lost to the realms. She just had to sound confident enough. The realm of men has come a long way since the dark ages when they bowed and reveled at the sight of their gods. They could once seem almighty and create magic and the humans would worship them; now they are unafraid.

"We only want you on our side. The winning side. Why should you fight for Shield, and not Hydra? In the end, we are all the same."

She lifted her hands. "And is this how you treat your guests, whom you want to ally with? A poor choice of methods I'm afraid. How exactly did you get one of these? These are Asgardian cuffs."

"They've been in Hydra's possession since you came to Earth. We've been hanging on to them just in case you'd ever return. Our Founder was a man with taste, you see. He liked pretty things. And we've been waiting for a very long time." he explains. "We want to work with you. I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to."

"If you lay one finger on me..."

"What?" he asked. "You have no magic. I doubt your godly friends even know where you are. You've been roaming Earth for two years now - oh yes, we've been keeping track since you arrived. Were you exiled from your home? Is that why you're here?"

"No." she spat.

"Surely, they would have come for you by now. It's been a few days."

"What?"

Daniel laughed. "Oh, I forgot to mention that. You've been asleep and I've only decided to wake you up now since you hold valuable information. Things about Shield and the gods. Simple questions, but if you refuse to cooperate you will make things very hard for yourself my dear."

Sigyn laughed. Not at the man but at herself. She underestimated the morals and now here she is. She still views them as a primitive species that burnt witches for performing medicine and calling it magic. So here she is...

"What have you done with the Sergeant?" she asked.

"Oh, him? He's halfway across the world by now." he shrugged. "He won't remember any of this. It was a risk using him to draw you out, you know? He started to ask questions. So thanks to you, his mind will be reset and he won't know any of this ever happened. Amazing how far we've come as a species. But you as gods, have not been here for a long time, what would you know?"

(He was right.)

"Release me." she demanded.

"You will cooperate."

"What makes you think I will?"

"Your friend will suffer very painfully." he noted, strongly. "You have two options. Cooperate or we will make you. What will it be?"

The goddess stepped forward, and said, "As you mortals so like to put it; go to hel."