The Disorder (Book 1)

Chapter 2

Earlier, in Asgard...

"Loki!" Loki heard his name called down the corridor by the God of Thunder. He heard footsteps approaching his chambers, more than one set of footsteps. Uh oh.

The door to his bedroom slammed open, but Loki didn't even flinch. Calmly bookmarking and closing his book on how to shape-shift into a horse, he looked up. Standing in the doorway of his chambers were Thor, the God of Thunder, who was practically steaming with anger; Odin, the Allfather, with a depressed expression on his face; and Frigg, Odin's wife, who had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What are you blaming me for this time?" Loki said, sighing.

"You! You killed my son! Balder was beloved by all, and you killed him!" Frigg sobbed hysterically, blowing her nose in a silk handkerchief in a rather unladylike fashion.

Inwardly, Loki smiled. "You can't prove that."

"That is not the point," said Odin sadly, "we know you killed him. And you will bring him back or-"

"I will chop off your head and mount it over my fireplace for everyone to see!" Thor roared triumphantly.

Odin sighed, "yes, that is the idea, more or less."

"Hela is in love with him; she wouldn't give him up for the worlds. How do you expect me to accomplish this? It's impossible," Loki asked.

Odin smiled sadly. "That is your problem." And with that, the trio left the room.

Loki slumped down in his seat, trying to think of an of an idea. When Thor said he would have Loki's head for this, he wasn't kidding. Loki had pissed Thor off numerous times, this time might be the last straw. And it didn't help that he was actually guilty.

He sighed, how would he ever dream up something that would work? Wait a second... he thought, Dream! How could he be so stupid as to overlook it?

Loki stood up and ran to his bookshelf, knocking over his bedside table in the process. A loud crash echoed throughout his room, but Loki didn't notice. He was scanning the shelves for his book on the realm of Dream. Finally uncovering it in the dustiest corner where he kept encyclopaedias and history books, Loki heaved the large volume to his desk and started flipping through it.

Loki skimmed the pages until he found the words he was looking for:

"Through Dream, anything that is lost can be recovered."

The corners of Loki's lips turned up into a twisted smile as a plan formed in his mind.

* * *

That night, Loki's preparations to retrieve Balder were set up. On his bed was a tray that held three objects. In the first was a glass of warm milk, the second held a batch of freshly baked cookies, and the third was a glass vial filled with magical sleeping potion (a very rare draft that Loki had stolen form Idun) which would allow the user to enter another's Dream.

Loki consumed the milk and cookies quickly, then sat on his bed, mentally preparing himself for the potion. He examined the glass bottle in his hand. It was about the size of his palm. The liquid inside was white and foggy, and seemed to be the consistency of air, liquid, and solid at the same time. It sloshed, coiled, spiraled, and hardened all at once.

Already drowsy from the milk and cookies, and from watching the potion, Loki uncorked the bottle and downed the contents in one swallow. He fell asleep so fast that his mind didn't have time to process the taste of the draft.

* * *

In his dream, Loki saw nine windows, each representing one of the nine realms. He focused on Hel, the kingdom of the dead. Loki searched through the minds of the dead, unable to find Balder.