Loki."
He allowed himself to smile. The mask, with its monstrous visage, would keep it hidden.
"Is that the role you want to cast me in?"
"The dragon has left the roots of Yggdrasil, Hodur has murdered Paltar, even Fenrir readies to move." Her expression filled with sorrow. "From where I stand, only one role has yet to be filled."
"The Loki of legend is the father of Fenrir and supplied the spear to Hodur. Fenrir is not my creation, nor did I deliver the spear."
Anger flared in her eyes. "You are the father of all this." She swept her arm toward the building and Ansuz. "Even if the spear didn't pass from your hand, it came to rest in Hodur's through your machinations. We can stand here and argue technicalities of prophecy all day, it doesn't excuse you from your sins."
Cain stepped forward, his right hand balled into a fist. "What of your sins? What of your abandonment of me when I needed you most?"
"You made it very clear you didn't want me any longer."
"Made it clear?" A tremor passed through his voice. "What part of my praying to you to return every night made it clear I no longer wanted you? When I erected temples in your various names, falling to my knees, pleading for you to return, was that the moment when I no longer wanted you?"
"You made it clear when you decided to shed the blood of billions."
Cain straightened, his fist relaxing. Could he blame her for hating him? He'd become everything she'd tried to teach him not to be. Despite all her powers, she couldn't see his heart, so he couldn't blame her for her ignorance.
"I came because of a song."
"What?"
"I heard a song," he said. "You asked why I was here. I heard a song. Something familiar I wanted…needed to hear."
"There is nothing in this world for you to hear. You decided the tune of your existence long ago."
"Yes, I did. Still… I had hoped to hear that melody again. Goodbye, Adrastia. If you decide survival is worth joining a monster such as myself, I'm sure you'll be able to find me."
He stepped into the Veil and disappeared.
Adrastia stood on the roof, watching Ansuz as they continued their search of the building and cornfields.
"Yes," she said. "Perhaps it is time I got my hands a little dirty."
2
His Dark Horizon
Gwynn sat on a grassy slope beneath an oak tree that soared above his head and draped a canopy of branches over him. He stood from the shade and stepped into the sunlight. After a few moments, a feeling of unrest pricked at his mind. Something felt wrong about the sunlight. Standing, he reached his hand toward the bright orb in the sky, shuddering as he realized he felt none of the sun's familiar warmth against his palm.
A feminine giggle came from behind him.
Turning around, he found the grass where he had just sat covered in a red and white checkered blanket with a spread of sandwiches and cut fruit set in front of the most cliche picnic basket Gwynn had ever seen.
The owner of the giggle sat coquettishly on one corner of the blanket. Chestnut coloured hair fell down beneath her shoulders and her hazel eyes sparkled even in the shade.
"Angie," Gwynn said, though it sounded more like a question than a greeting.
"Come on silly, sit and eat," she said.
He didn't question her any further, he moved forward and took a seat on an opposite corner of the blanket.
"You don't need to sit so far away." She feigned a look of innocence that belied the flirtatious tone of her voice.
"I know." He did know. Yes, he could move closer to her, perhaps even close enough she would rest herself against his shoulder. He didn't move. It felt wrong to be so close to someone…else? His head felt muddied.
She looked at him expectantly. When she knew he wouldn't be moving, her lips fell forward into a pout which lasted only a moment. A rosy smile soon replaced it and she snatched the plate of sandwiches from the ground, offering it to him.
"I tried to make all your favourites," Angie said. "I wasn't sure if I got it right. What do you