Monday, December 16, 2019
Thursday, December 5, 2019
Chapter one: LMJS
Loki was minding his
business. Believe it or not, there were many times, unwritten and unspoken, in
which Loki kept to himself. It was, mostly, during these times that others
sought him out and drew him into mischievousness. It was an annoying fact that those
who sought the trickster would wait for days like these-perfect days. Those
rare, special days that nothing particular was going on. Drama was yesterday’s
problem and family life had returned to its normal and boring cycles. Loki took
advantage of these times by being proactive. He would disappear and hide in
places where, he hoped, none could find him. So on this perfect day, in a
secret birch grove, the trickster sat reading, minding his business, causing no
trouble whatsoever.
His literary immersion
was interrupted by a sharp, air-ripping explosion. The electrostatic burst
traveled up his spine and discharged through his nervous system; violently
jerked him back to reality. The rogue’s chest heaved uncontrollably. His wide
eyes darted around the grove and settled on three ethereal ladies standing in
the center of the birches. They stared at him calmly while the late summer
breeze caught the hems of their skirts. They fluttered up at the same pace as
his heart barged into his mouth. Loki jumped to his feet and dropped his
book. Not stopping to think, two short swords appeared in his hands and he took
a defensive stance. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What’re you doing here?”
The three women opened
their arms and approached him. “Do not be alarmed, Loki,” said one of the
ladies. In her eyes, stars moved in spirals.
“You already know who we
are,” said another lady. Swirling mist encompassed her eyes.
“Oh, but you have
dropped your book,” said the third. Reaching down, she picked up the book and
handed it to him. Her eyes shined like honey on feathered wings.
Loki took a deep breath
but did not relax. He returned the blades to his belt. “No, I really don’t.” He
said and took the book from the woman. “I hope you’re not expecting
formalities.”
“All too true,” said the
honey-eyed woman. “Please call me Urd. Formality is-”
“-Completely
unnecessary,” said the woman with the stars in her eyes. “Please call me
Verdandi.”
“And I, Skuld,” said the
woman with the misty eyes. “Though you may not know us, we know you.”
“We know all about
Loki,” they said in unison.
“What he was,” said Urd.
“What he will be,” said
Skuld.
“And what he is now and
what he can do,” said Verdandi.
“That is why we came to
you,” they said in unison. All three smiled smugly at him.
The color drained from
his face. His stomach dropped to the ground, so he sank back to a sitting
position to join it. “Oh, shit on a stick,” said Loki.
Urd turned towards the
other two women. “Shit on a stick?”
“It’s Loki’s expression
for a complicated origin story with a simple Hail Mary ending,” explained
Verdandi.
Urd nodded her approval.
“I’ll have to start using it myself then.”
Skuld shook her head.
“It’s hardly pop culture, it’ll never catch on.”
Urd crossed her arms.
“Well, shit on a stick.”
“It’s also something he
says when he is beyond normal words.” Verdandi pointed at him. “Now look,
you’re scaring him. Be nice and tell him what we want before his eyes explode.”
The sisters turned back to the trickster.
“Wait,” he whispered. He
put one hand on his head and the other on his stomach. Then, he took a slow,
deep breath. “Norns,” he whispered. “This is happening. Norns are happening.”
“Yes, Loki. Norns are
we. And we are always happening.” Verdandi nodded at him. “Steady on.”
“Sorry, I always
imagined you to be more frightening,” he said. “You know, thundering sky, bolts
of ether, cracking clouds of electricity.”
“You want us to be like
your brother?” asked Skuld, confused.
“Oh gods, no!” The
trickster dropped his hand. “I’m sorry I mentioned it.’’
Urd shook her head.
“That stuff is for mortals, Loki. They have free will. We have to scare them or
they won’t listen.” A sly toothy grin grew across her pink lips. “You have
nothing to fear from us-.” She paused and raised her brow. “-if you listen.”
“We have information to
trade,” said Skuld.
“We will have a need
very soon,” said Verdandi.
“We need an ally,” said
Urd. “Do you think you are a chance character? When we weave the fabric, we
leave the knots in. And you are the biggest knot in the tapestry, my dear. ”
The three laughed at the same time.
It wasn’t the reason for
it; it was the sound of it. If cats could laugh while playing with balls of
string, he imagined that’s what it would be. A creepy, know-it-all, laughter
that sent goosebumps down the trickster’s back. Those goosebumps transcended
into a shiver that was shared between him and the birch tree he was sitting
against. “Why me?” Loki desperately tried to shake off the feelings of doom but
it wasn’t working. There was no way to ignore the dark shadow of the unknown
the ladies cast upon him as they stood in front of him blocking out the
perfect, late summer sun. They had plans for him, ineffable, Norn plans, whose
express purpose was to weave the fate and destiny of mortals and gods alike.
And they stood before him without pomp or ceremony, asking him to listen.
Loki’s tense body and somersault gizzards became jelly. Swallowing back his
nausea, he drew his knees to his chest and rested his hands on them. Loki
closed his eyes and took in a long cleansing breath. Then, he lifted his head
to peer at them. “What could I possibly do for you?”
“There will come a
time,” started Urd. “That mankind will weave his own destiny.”
“Not this again,”
whispered Loki. “That idiot seeress cursed me as a babe. A babe that brought no
harm to no being.” He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “To the ice with that crusty
old witch.”
“That tapestry seems far
away now, but time is exponential in its momentum,” said Skuld.
“We must set the frame
for the weaving,” said Urd. “It begins-”
“-After the Twilight of
the Gods, I know!” Loki stood and threw up his hands. “This about Ragnarok-
again!” He stopped paying attention to the women and paced in a little circle.
“Ragnarok?” muttered
Verdandi. The sisters exchanged puzzled expressions. “Sure, why not?” She
shrugged. The other two nodded in agreement.
Loki continued. “And I
am supposed to be a component of that battle, fighting on the side of blah,
blah, blah! But in the meantime-”
“But in the meantime-” said
Verdandi.
“-But in the meantime, I
would like to keep my head safely on my neck for a change,” said Loki. “I have
changed my ways-”
Skuld flashed a golden
light at him from her pointed finger. “-Have a care, Loki.” Her voice changed
from mortal-like to the deep reverberating echo of a divine goddess giving a
command. “Know to whom you speak!”
Loki couldn’t bring
himself to argue with her. He closed his eyes and huffed. “Okay, fine. I have
tried to cut down my adventures to a minimum.”
“But Loki, this is not a
good thing,” said Urd. “It's through a story's hero that the plot moves along.”
“I haven't plotted or
eavesdropped in at least five weeks and-” Loki stopped pacing.
“If the Hero stops
moving, so does the story,” said Verdandi.
“And we can't have an
unmoving hero in our story,” said Urd. “What would it end with?”
“Boredom,” said Skuld.
She feigned a yawn and stretched.
“Hero?” asked Loki. “Do
you think for one minute I’m going to swallow that! If you weren’t paying
attention, let me be the first to inform you that I have been put firmly in the
villain camp. If you don’t believe me, ask my family. And it all goes back to
that damn prophecy.”
“If it makes you feel
better, we could call you the main character,” said Urd.
“I’m never the main
character,” said Loki. “Not with a brother like mine.”
“Baldyr?” asked
Verdandi, fluttering her eyes and faking a swoon.
The wind blew through
the grove. It loosened pieces of paper-like bark from the great birch that
stood above them. They drifted downwards and fluttered in front of Loki’s
frozen snarl. A base growl grew in his belly and ended with a bass snort. He
reached out and snatched one, crumbling it in his hand before forcefully
throwing it to the ground.
“Baldyr?” asked Urd.
Verdandi laughed like a hyena. “You couldn’t get much further than if you had
mentioned Captain Hammer.”
“Oh, Penny, I love you!”
Verdandi dropped off a cliff of hysterics. Loki’s growl increased in tone and
pitch and metaphorical flames shot from his eyes.
Skuld fanned herself
with her hand. “My! The fire in your eyes is making me warm,
Loki. Has anyone told
you how pretty you are when you’re irritated?”
Urd rolled her eyes.
“He’s talking about Thor, you foozler.”
“Nobody uses that word
anymore, Urd. Call her a meathead and move on,” corrected Skuld. “Also, stop
dropping jokes that are spoilers. No one gets it except us.”
“Are you quite done?”
yelled Loki.
“Loki, we are Norns. We
sit and weave fate and destinies. Time doesn’t pass for us like the gods or
mortals. We sit apart. How in Muspell do you think we amuse ourselves?” asked
Skuld. “Do you think we take visitors for tea? Throw birthday parties? By the
Nine, we have to blow off steam too.” The woman turned to the other two.
“However, I do agree that we need to stop. We do not need to milk this cow any
further, and you shouldn’t be the butt of our jokes. Especially, since you
aren’t in on it.” Skuld gave Urd and Verdandi a gestured warning.
“Well, shit on a stick,”
said Urd.
“It’ll never catch,”
replied Skuld. “Could the past stop repeating herself, please? The present
needs to breathe.” Verdandi’s laughter turned into snorting.
“I’m not a main
character!” yelled Loki.
“Well, aren't you?”
asked Urd. She walked a few steps over to her snorting sister and kicked her in
the shin.
Verdandi jerked back to
reality. She reached down to rub her leg. “Nobody wants to be the villain,”
pouted Verdandi. “I don’t know why. Villains are proactive. Everybody likes a
bit of action. What difference does the motive make? In the end, motive doesn’t
matter! Stories don’t happen in the prologue!”
“My story does!” shouted
Loki. “I’m not a hero and I’m not a villain. And maybe more people would know
that if the story did start in the prologue.”
Urd raised her brow.
“Then, it wouldn’t be a prologue, Loki. It would be a story about you reacting
to something. And that would make you a motivated main character, wouldn’t it?”
“That is why we chose
you,” said Skuld. “The main character, who is not boring, for our story.”
Loki put his hands on
his hips. “So what is it that you want exactly?”
Urd came closer. “The
time will come when mankind will weave his own fate,” she said.
Skuld and Verdandi sat
down on the grass cross-legged. “Then, what?” they asked in unison. “What will
become of us?”
“We shall be cast away,
beyond the World Tree, to weave another beginning,” said Urd. She danced away
from Loki and tiptoed around her sisters.
“And what shall we leave
behind?” asked Skuld and Verdandi in unison.
“An object of power?”
said Urd.
“No!” said Skuld. “We
shall not leave behind something for humanity to kill each other for. No object
of power.”
“Something of great
wealth?” asked Urd, as she danced behind her sisters.
“No!” said Verdandi.
“That, also, humanity will kill for.”
“Some great knowledge,
wisdom, intelligence?” asked Urd. She stopped dancing.
The two sisters rose
from the ground. The three stood together in the sunlight. “Yes, a legacy of
knowledge, wisdom, and intelligence. A story so strong it shall be told by
children for countless generations. This shall be our legacy when we are beyond
this Tree and in the next.”
“We can't do this
without Loki,” said Urd. “And in exchange, we will give him information to set
him to his task.”
“I don't have a choice
do I?” asked Loki.
“It is your divine
mandate,” said Skuld.
“Your reason for being,”
said Verdandi.
“You don't have a
choice,” said Urd.
“But you know this ends
badly for me. Why would you do this? It’s cruel,” said Loki.
“Loki,” said Verdandi. She reached out and
stroked his cheek. “Heroes are not abandoned by the divine.” Then, she smacked
her palm on his forehead.
Loki’s world turned into a grayscale
landscape. A deep cold fog seeped up from the ground. Images emerged from the
fog, speaking in water-static voices that time could not touch. People he knew
and those he did not. Some cursed his name, others praised it. As they did, the
images melted back into the cloud from whence they came. A kneeling Freyja
looked up at him in agony. Thor in underwear sat cross-legged in a cage. A
spectral woman rose as a human and slowly changed into a monster with eight
legs. An army of men burst through a treeline towards him. A large woman
carried a half-dead child, looked at him and smiled. A satyr holding a wooden
sword rose from the mist and melted back again. A misty girl turned to him and
thanked him in multiple voices. Finally, a phantom doppelganger rose from
the fog. He was bound to a boulder, and the gaping mouth of a serpent hovered
above him. Its maw was pried open and its saliva was dripping down his back.
The spectral Loki screamed but not in pain. The water-static voice pleaded for
the freedom of another. “Please go. I love you. I can’t bear to see you suffer
too. Leave me! Leave, you stupid bitch! Leave!” The visions melted back into
the cloud. The fog sapped back into the earth. Color returned to the world and
Loki found himself on his knees.
“Life and Death have no true meaning. For
there are far worse things to fear for those who do not cooperate,” said
Skuld.
“Heroes are helped in
their time of greatest need,” said Urd, smiling. "What is tangled may be
undone."
“Just have a little
faith in us,” they said in unison.
“All will be made good
in the end, with or without true knowledge,” said Skuld.
“Please,” he whispered. The dread of damnation
trembled through his body like the stammer in his words. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll
do it. Name it. Whatever you want.”
“Shave Sif’s head,” they
said in unison.
He waited for the punchline
but all he received was silence. Loki nodded and gestured at them to continue.
“Shave Sif’s head. That’s funny. Now, what do you really want me to do?” Three
blank faces stared at him. His eyes darted back and forth. “You can’t be
serious.”
“Serious as plague,”
giggled Urd.
“Take the golden locks.
Find Arachne the Weaver, she travels the Realms of Zeus to the south. Have her
weave a golden veil,” said Verdandi.
“When the time is right,
give that veil to your daughter,” said Skuld.
“Can I ask why?” asked
Loki slowly.
“Sif is the protector of
the home's hearth, shield-maiden of the sacred fires,” said Verdandi.
“Her hair holds back the
cold of Niflheim,” said Urd.
“The rest you have to
find out for yourself,” said Skuld. “Now, step to it. The quicker the better.”
“We must leave you now,”
they said in unison. The sisters glowed brightly and disappeared in an
implosion of magic. It made a tiny popping sound. The little grove returned to
its perfect day. But for Loki, his perfect day was ruined.
Author’s Statement
This is
the first chapter of a story called Loki’s Mysterious Journey South. It
started as a short story explaining why Loki shaved Sif’s head and the mystery
of what he did with the hair once he had shaved it off. This story took on a
life of its own and I could not resist its siren call. I am in the process of
expanding, layering and polishing the rest into a full-fledged novel. This
story is special to me because I’m not aware of any other story being from
Loki’s point of view. I felt that I should give him a voice and a chance to
tell his side of the story. I was always fascinated by myth, fairy tales, legends,
and lore. It’s my dream to write one of my own. That’s my literary goal to
write fairytales and myth style stories for adults.
Loki’s
Mysterious Journey South is a story about Brotherhood. Loki has an agenda but
it is being thwarted by Thor’s pride. Loki finds himself having to bail his
brother out of trouble while trying to accomplish his goal set to him by the
Norns. Despite Loki’s best efforts, he finds his fate and destiny inexplicably
tied with Thor’s. It's a story of accountability, responsibility, tolerance,
flexibility, and adaptability to familial connections.
Jessica
Dodge was born in Kokomo, Indiana. She had a normal city life. Then, bad stuff
happened. In 2015, she landed in rural Tennessee with her truck-driving
parents. Now, she spends her time healing, writing, housesitting, and feeding
the cat. Jessica is an oral storytelling champion and writer. She has written
for Fandom Magazine and articles for Historical re-enactment publications. Her
hobbies include any kind of geek culture and she is currently training to
run.
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