Prince Sweyn’s camp outside Aros, Jutland.

  A loud, blunt thud echoed through the air. At that moment, the massive Surtr collapsed backward onto the ground.

  “Two goddesses without totemas and one igigi, and you came crawling back nearly dead regardless?” said a man in grayish robes, his left hand raised—the same one he had just struck the giant with.

  “But Lord Loki,” Surtr protested, “the goddess Athena suddenly appeared to assist them—” he tried to justify his failure before his superior.

  “Idiot! Why would Athena intervene to help Lel’s bastards if she’s at war with them?” the robed man continued, interrogating him with disdain.

  Loki and Surtr were inside a small improvised shelter; they had created an alternate dimension to avoid any human interruption.

  Outside that veil, war raged. Prince Sweyn’s loyal men were trying to besiege the city of Aros, protected behind towering oak palisades. The conflict had been going on for nearly a month.

  “It was her, Lord Loki. I have no excuse for my defeat,” Surtr said, struggling to stand.

  “Damn it…” Loki muttered as he turned away, sitting down on a chair.

  “What is Anat playing at? One of her elohim told me that we had to kill those goddesses right there, and that bringing their corpses to her would earn me the title of Anunnaki of Asgard.” Loki kept muttering to himself, visibly frustrated.

  “Besides… they should be arriving soon, and I don’t think I’ve gathered enough energy yet.”

  “My lord, I believe we must dispose of the goddess Athena first. Otherwise, not even you will be able to win,” the giant said, still kneeling.

  Loki flicked a finger, and a horn full of mead floated into his hand. He took a sip.

  “Then I’ll have to fight her myself,” Loki said sharply. “Meanwhile, you and my children will defeat those three goddesses—without fail. Killing them might give us the power we need for our plan.”

  “Yes, my lord. I won’t fail this time,” Surtr replied as he stood.

  “Everything is falling apart… I hoped Sweyn would defeat his father sooner. Not even the full might of the Jomsvikings has managed to take the city. Still, every soldier they kill adds another drop to our reservoir… all of it helps,” Loki muttered.

  “The war won’t last much longer, Lord Loki,” the giant added. “Sweyn will be victorious.”

  Over a year earlier, Loki had been imprisoned in a cavern within the world of Jotunheim, where a serpent constantly dripped venom onto his face.

  The wicked god had caused the death of Odin’s son, Baldr, provoking the fury of all Asgard. He escaped, but was eventually found in the falls of Franangrsfors, one of the continents of Jotunheim.

  Laid on his back, tied hand and foot, with a jagged stone pressing painfully against his spine—he endured that torture endlessly. The venom could not kill him due to his partial heritage as a frost giant, but it caused unbearable agony. Every drop sent waves of pain that made the entire continent tremble as he thrashed against his bonds.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Then, one day, over a year ago, a woman appeared before him.

  Loki couldn’t see her face nor her features—only a sinister smile marked by gleaming white teeth. The only way he knew she was a woman was by the beautifully shaped silhouette she had.

  “Loki, son of Fárbauti. How did you end up in such a pitiful state?” the mysterious woman asked.

  “One day I was swimming along the cliffs of this region, tripped, fell, and ended up here,” Loki replied with sarcastic cheer.

  “I see you still keep that peculiar sense of humor you’re so famous for,” the woman answered.

  “And you? What business do you have with me? Come to free me from this misery? Hate to break it to you, but once you enter here, you can’t leave,” he said defiantly.

  At that moment, the bindings around Loki’s hands and feet vanished—as if sliced by an invisible blade—and the enormous serpent dripping venom was shredded into pieces. Loki rolled onto his side and slowly stood.

  “Those restraints were the entrails of some of my children, woven with dimensional shields. No power should’ve been able to break them!” he said, shocked.

  “You have two options, god Loki: accept what you’re seeing… or cling to your childish beliefs,” the woman said calmly.

  “I’ll go with believing you,” Loki replied.

  “But I don’t see what someone like you gains from freeing me.”

  “Odin, the father of Asgard, is dead. And Lel has decided to give you the throne of all Yggdrasil.”

  “Odin is dead? How? He was enormously powerful,” Loki asked, bewildered.

  The god looked toward the woman’s face—even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he sensed she was smiling.

  “You… killed him, didn’t you?” Loki asked, both stunned and intrigued.

  “I’m not here to discuss details. Lel has granted you the chance to become Anunnaki of Asgard. But first, you must kill a few deserters to show your commitment to our realm. How you do it is your business.”

  “And if I refuse?” Loki challenged.

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  She lifted a hand, and all dimensional walls of the cavern shattered instantly.

  Sunlight poured into the cavern as the serpent’s remains glowed orange under the dawn.

  “What kind of power is that?! Heimdal will surely detect this!” Loki panicked.

  But mid-sentence, he realized he was no longer in the cavern at all.

  The landscape was unmistakable—Niflheim, an icy world covered in frost and shrouded in thick fog. In the distance, the howling of the wolf Fenrir echoed through the frozen expanse.

  “I brought you to Niflheim so you can begin assembling an army,” the woman said, turning her back to him.

  “You have one year to prepare and face those goddesses. You’d better grow stronger—otherwise they’ll kill you.”

  “Wait! Heimdal will see us here. What do I do?” Loki called out as the woman walked away.

  “That god will only see what I want him to see. It’s that simple. Do you want me to help convince the others to follow you as well?” she replied, her voice irritated as she cast him a sidelong glance.

  “You’re right. I’ll handle the rest,” Loki said more calmly.

  Then the woman vanished right before his eyes.

  It had been more than a year since that day.

  Loki had managed to rescue his children:

  Fenrir, the enormous wolf,

  and Jormungandr, the giant serpent whose tail could encircle all of Midgard.

  He had also recruited Surtr, king of the fire giants and ruler of Muspelheim, along with a vast army of frost and fire jotun.

  “Well… at least I got to enjoy worldly pleasures for a year. This mead is definitely better than the venom that dripped on my face every day in that damned cave,” Loki said, still drinking.

  He drained the horn and stood up.

  “Well then, time to go back to pretending to be a prophet for that idiot prince. Let’s see if I can convince him to hang more Christians or something. Any sacrifice helps at this point,” he muttered as he dissolved the alternate dimension and stepped out of his improvised tent.