Surrender, Chapter 2: Research, Relics, Riddles

The several weeks leading up to Loki's Alfheim journey had been short, but productive. He'd spent most of his waking hours searching through old texts and dusty crates in Asgard's great library. At first he had no set path for his intention—to gain the upper hand again, of course—but as he skimmed volume after aged volume of books gathered from all the realms, Alfheim kept pulling his interest.

Alfheim—meaning “elf home”—was home to the Light Elves, Fae, and many other other spirits, souls, and aspects of nature. Light Elves were humanoid creatures who had kept their ties to nature. According to several sources the Light Elves reside in a vast city that has not been seen by any outsider for thousands of years. It’s location is either unknown, hidden, or perhaps it changes. The entire realm was supposedly large expanses of undeveloped forest land with one mountain range and various rivers.

Fae and other nature spirits reside in the forests and naturally emit a magic field that affects those who come near them. They can strengthen or turn it off at will. Fae spirits usually have a weakness which can sometimes be ridiculous or irrational—shoes, teacups, string, mirrors, certain words, certain smells—but they are powerless to react if their weakness is present.

Loki was particularly taken with Fae magic, glamour it was called. Fae glamour could work in different ways according to several accounts from victims and witnesses alike. A Fae's glamour could trap others in an illusion, compel them to carry out an act, control their mood, or simply influence the senses. All written information on the Fae was ancient and second- or third-hand. Alfheim’s inhabitants kept no written records and were content to live as one with nature and time.

In addition to the dusty tomes it housed, Asgard's great library held hall after hall of time-worn tapestries, broken marble statues, and huge structures of fossilized animal remains. Shelves were filled with small curios, forgotten relics, stone goblets, glass dishes, and chiseled stone busts. Loki usually found himself alone in the library. Asgard’s best were warriors, not scholars.

One morning he lucked out while rummaging through yet another room of cloth-covered crates and artifacts. Buried under items that had lain undisturbed for hundreds—or perhaps thousands—of years, he'd found a small nymph-shaped figure locked away in a disused box. The carving was no bigger than his palm and appeared to be made of wood, but to the touch it was hard as stone. The box labeled the figure as "Alfheim artifact; Description: wood carving of a nymph; Use: unknown.”

Through a little trial and error, Loki discovered that he could sense and manipulate a weak glamour field it generated. It was a simple trinket, sadly. Its effect was to appear as a mundane object for a short time—a cup, a ball, or a pouch, for example. But its usefulness had been in verifying the fact that Asgardians could be affected by Fae magic. The glamoured object fooled others easily, and none could sense it was anything other than what it appeared to be. Even Odin did not sense the glamour. At least he did not admit to it if he did. Loki was not of Asgard himself, though, so he assumed his Frost Giant lineage and natural magical abilities must have allowed him to sense the glamour, resist it, and see through it if he wished.. "There must be a way to control it," he kept repeating to himself over and over as he researched more and more, little as there was.

After this epiphany Loki returned to two particular Alfheim texts he'd come across earlier that week: Alfheim: A Study of Light Elves and Fae Spirits and Journeys Through the Fae Realm. The first contained all known abilities and descriptions of the inhabitants of Alfheim including Fae, Light Elves, and other nature spirits. Following his own “personal observations”, the author presented the theory that Asgardians couldn't sense Fae glamour at work. His descriptions of Elves and Fae were fanciful at best, sadly. Alfheim's author claimed Fae were little more than 8 inch high pixies that danced on water lilies and flitted about fields of flowers. After meeting a Fae, though, Loki reflected bitterly that he could write a shorter book containing more accurate information based on his one-day experience alone. So far the author's description of Freyr's position as the forest god had been accurate, but Loki hoped he wouldn't have cause to confirm that.

The latter book, Journeys, was written by an unfortunate human trapped in Alfheim for a time.
It contained a similar story to what Mirella had now confirmed for him. That was the key to his plan—the staff that allowed the weilder to use Fae glamour. The only information missing in the book's version had been the name of the staff and its location. Hence his need for consulting a Fae before beginning his trek across Alfheim.

The Journeys author had also been a cartographer, and Loki hoped the maps the mortal had drawn would be helpful in finding L’Shale’s grove. He was surprised to see that the author's descriptions of the landmarks and forestland matched perfectly, proving that he had indeed been to Alfheim. Journeys was supposedly a fictional tale, but much of the book’s contents were quite true indeed. Perhaps it was the only way a human could get such a book published. The foreword of a later volume of human poetry cited that the author of Journeys went mad shortly after publishing his book, claiming the Fae had taken him back to Alfheim. After spending years in an asylum he'd taken his own life. His last words were a scream of defiance, "Freyr will protect me! I am but a man! He will protect me!" Weak and pathetic mortal. At least he penned something practical amidst the nonsense.

His gamble to travel to Alfheim personally had paid off so far. He had confirmed the tale of the staff was true and not a madman's concoction. Assuming he could find L'Shale, the remainder of his plan would take time to come to fruition, though. He disliked waiting, but it would be necessary if L'Shale could not affect Odin, which he had to be prepared for given Odin's strength of will. With the staff I can ensnare Thor to believe whatever I want. His skills are certainly no match for Fae glamour. And with the help of my "brother", I will show Odin my true worth. I will succeed him as king instead of Thor. No Asgardian will know how I did it. And they will all obey my command as king—what I deserve to be.

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The trek from Mirella’s garden to the Great Mountains was fairly uneventful and took the rest of the day. Loki avoided encountering any other Fae—once was enough for him. The weather was fair, the land was easy enough to travel on foot, and for an hour or two the forests even gave way to expansive grasslands where he saw several packs of wild horses in the distance. A large river ran north to south, and he followed it for a time before turning farther west. Journeys’ maps had been useful indeed.

Loki reached the valley between the Great Mountains just as the sun was setting over the forests of Alfheim. Most of the wildlife had been unnaturally quiet since he left Mirella, but whether it was due to the loss of heightened senses or some other reason he did not know. With his mind on more important matters, he dismissed extraneous details. He only sought the staff called L'Shale, the key to his plan’s success.

He entered a grove of fruit trees within the valley aware that he was being watched. He was unconcerned with whoever—or whatever—was watching him, though. I can handle the creatures that walk these woods. I've already proven that. Even so, he quickened his pace.

It was late autumn so few of the trees still bore fruit. Most of the leaves had turned brilliant shades of gold, red, or orange except for the occasional evergreen. He did spot a few branches bearing ripe apples, but he knew better than to eat any food from this realm. He chuckled as he passed by them.

After a thorough searching of the grove twilight descended and brought with it softer shadows and washed out colors. He'd seen no altars, crypts, or secret passages. He sensed no deceptive or cloaking magics, although he could not be certain since Fae magic was radically different than his own strengths as a sorcerer. The grove was empty except for the trees, his unseen watcher, and himself. He could have been in any forest, yet somehow he felt he was in the right place.

There were a few taller trees throughout the grove, and a large redwood grew at the very center. He paused beneath the redwood while he pondered his next move. It's here in this grove waiting to be found. After some time he relented that he could get no further on his current information and decided to confront his watcher.

"Whoever watches me," he bellowed into the grove, "I seek that which you guard." For a moment there was nothing but silence.

Before doubt or irritation could take hold of him a low, booming voice from overhead answered, "What you seek cannot be found." The deep voice projected across the entire grove. The sound could have been a rumbling earthquake had it not spoken distinct words.

Loki looked up and surveyed the treetops for the source of the reply. He saw no movements save branches and leaves that swayed in the night’s breeze. He demanded this time, "Tell me where L'Shale is kept! I know it is in this grove!"

When the booming voice replied again, he saw that it was the redwood itself that had answered him. Three wide, healed-over gashes in its bark several paces up defined Redwood's eyes and mouth. Loki would have paid no mind to the scars had they not moved when it spoke. "L'Shale is kept beyond your reach, visitor. It cannot be taken."

It cannot be found. It cannot be taken. A riddle, perhaps? "It cannot be taken... Beyond your reach... visitor..." Loki mumbled to himself as he stared up at the tall tree. The short twilight slipped away, and darkness blanketed the grove. His sharp eyes had no problem making out Redwood’s features and the surrounding roots, though. He let his mind wander around Redwood’s words, and he stepped over the tree’s exposed roots idly circling the tree a couple times as he thought. The puzzle came together quickly, and he realized what the riddle was. It can only be given as a gift. He shouted upward, "Redwood, I have traveled from Asgard to know the magic of your grove. I would accept L'Shale as your gift to me!"

Redwood’s roots groaned and heaved in response. Loki jumped back to avoid the fissures created by the displaced, writhing roots and shifting earth. One of the larger roots nearest to where he stood rose from the ground to reveal a gnarled and twisted staff of pale willow wood. The staff's only adornment was a black, fist-sized granite shard capping its head. Besides that, it could have been a traveler’s walking stick.

As Loki reached for the staff, Redwood intoned, "We offer this staff as a gift from the grove, Asgardian." Loki grasped the staff with one hand and pulled it free of the earth and roots holding it. "To one of Asgard, he is but a staff. But should he awaken, beware his wrath. Enjoy your gift." Redwood’s rumbling voice made the word “gift” sound like “curse”, but Loki ignored the inflection. He had what he’d come all this way to retrieve.

"Thank you, Redwood." He brushed the loose dirt from the staff and examined the shard of hard granite. It was black as pitch in the early evening darkness. Flecks of lighter-colored stone throughout it glinted in the rising moonlight. "I shall enjoy your gift greatly." For now, it did feel like just a walking stick. We'll see its potential soon enough.

He pondered momentarily on why it had been so easy to claim the staff. No one in Alfheim has need of a staff that lets them use Fae glamour. They already have that power, and few people outside of Alfheim know of the staff much less that it actually exists. And now it's mine! Loki formed a gateway back to his room in Asgard grinning like a fool. All mine!