Restless Souls

Recorded: May 4, 2014
Characters: Frigga, Loki
Location: Niffleheim
Summary: Loki searches for his mother's soul.

The realm of the dishonored dead is as gloomy as its name suggests. The intense cold is bitter here even by Jotunheim's comparison, for it is a cold of the grave, offering a harsh reminder to the restless spirits of why they are here. In this realm, there is nothing to look forward to. Nothing worth admiring. Only miles of deep tundra and biting winds that echo far and wide. A few random souls can be seen trudging through the awful weather, and though their bodies are transparent, they cannot seem to go beyond their own misery to realize they don't need to fight against the environment in their struggle to get nowhere.

Loki can keep himself off of Heimdall's radar, and when he left his chambers, he made sure the gatekeeper couldn't see him before making his way to Niffleheim, the place he fears most he'll end up. His long hair whips around him as he trudges through the frigid wasteland, the few remaining tears in his eyes turning to ice against his skin. This is cold, even for him, so he pulls a fur lined cloak out of his dimensional pocket and wraps it around himself. "FRIGGA!" He calls loudly against the wind, looking around for the lost queen.

At first the only answer is the howling wind, but then a familiar voice echoes from nearby. "Who calls my name?" The soul of the All-Mother stumbles through the bitter wasteland looking as she did when she died: Barefoot and in her flowing white gown. She clings to her own sleeves as if she can feel the chill of the wind that blows throw her transparent body, shivering as she stops to look in Loki's direction. "Is it you that calls to me?"

Turning, he jogs toward her, pulling off his cloak and moving to wrap it around her shoulders. "Mother, what are you doing here? Why are you in this terrible place and not Valhalla where you belong? Well, you belong in Asgard, of course. You need to get out of the cold."

The cloak goes through the queen's transparent body. It is a mystery why any of the wandering souls are acting afflicted by the weather and environment, for they could all simply float free if they wanted to. Frigga's soul looks deeply into Loki's eyes to the point of nearly looking through him. "Do I know you," she wonders aloud.

"Wh…what?" Loki asks, taking a step back. "It's me, Loki. You do not remember me? Mother, what has happened here? What is the last thing you remember?" He frowns with worry, looking around. "I came to find you."

Frigga shakes her head slowly. "I do not know what is happened, only that I am here." She looks around briefly, then back at Loki. "I recall that I was in a bed. An elderly woman stood over me. I could not breathe, and then, I found myself here. Tell me, what is this place of bitter cold that I am in?"

"You are in Niffleheim, my queen. It is not a pleasant place. You do not belong here. You fell ill, and succumbed to the illness. Do you not remember anything else at all?"

Frigga glances to her left, watching a pair of transparent old men wander by. "I only recall that the older woman had her had over my mouth…" She looks at Loki. "You say that you are my son? Can you take me away from here? This realm is so cold…" Though behaving in the same manner as the other souls that wander Niffleheim, Frigga's soul is clearly missing a part of itself. Anyone with the ability to sense magic might notice that her power is not within the spectre that stands here right now.

"I don't know how to take you away from here. What old woman? What did she look like? Why don't you remember anything about yourself? Do you not recall that you are a queen?" His heart is breaking all over again. It's like losing her twice in just a few days. "I will ask about taking you away from here."

"Oh." Frigga lowers her gaze, then turns into the wind. She resumes the same march she and other souls seem eternally bound to make: Shivering, heavy-footed and without a real destination.

Loki stands there, watching her trudge on. He rubs his forehead, feeling so weary. He extends his powers a bit to try and determine why she is like this, noticing her abilities seem missing. There seems little point in following her right now when she has no idea who he is. He'd better figure ou what's missing, first.

Through the lei lines of magic, Loki will notice a single golden thread trailing off the wandering soul. This thread traverses through time and space, leading to a distant but familiar realm: Midgard. It is rare that sorcerers disconnect themselves from their own abilities, but this thread will easily lead the Jotun sorcerer to their new location.

Loki closes his eyes and disappears from Niffleheim, following the thread to Midgard. He pulls his cloak around his shoulders, keeping his eyes closed as he tries to keep the thread in his senses, but no sooner does he arrive when a loud HONK startles him into opening his eyes and scurrying out of the road and onto the sidewalk. He sinks onto a bench, bowing his head and looking at the ground, sighing.

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