Loki paces through the halls of the castle. Has been for a couple of days now. Something doesn't sit right with him. And that's just a mild way of putting it. A few days ago, he had this strange vision and ever since he's been feeling incredibly uneasy. About everything. About her. He can't go back to Midgard now, he promised her he'd only visit her once a month. He wants her to trust him. He cares too much for her to lie and stalk her. Yes, Heimdall may or may not have been giving him regular updates on her well-being, but he's not actually there with her.
Loki's study is filled to the brim with books he brought from the library. All of them are useless to aid him in figuring out what exactly he saw. There were only two people he could see clearly. Daphne was one of them. He saw her as if he was right there with her and he swore he could touch her, had he tried. She wore a dress made of the softest white silks and chiffon, and her back was exposed. The scar covering her skin lit up. Her hair was braided into a loose up-do. She looked like a Goddess.
The other one was a man. Undoubtedly a strong sorcerer. Brown tousled hair to his shoulders. His irises were dark, if not completely black. His features were slim and sharp. Loki would almost call him elegant, were it not for the incredibly rough and sinister magic he emitted. He was the one making Loki so restless. What connection does he have with Daphne? Why did he dream of them? Together?
Unfortunately, not even Freya was able to make sense of Loki's vision. That made him all the more uncomfortable. How is he supposed to protect Daphne if he couldn't figure out a mere vision? There is only one thing he can think of to do now. Go back to the sorceress that initiated all of this madness. Ravir.
...
Loki's boots sink into the deep mud with every step he takes. It's disgusting, but he can't let a little bit of dirt stop him. He has to know what's going on. He has to know the threat looming over Daphne. He has to know. For her. He thinks it's laughable how much he cares for her. Something just... Snapped in him when he saw Daphne in the Avengers Tower. If anything were to happen to her, he would kill the one responsible. Then he'd study necromancy to bring them back from the dead, only so he could kill them again. And again. And again. And-
Loki spots Ravir's small hut, hidden among the trees and plants of the dark forest. It looks like it's falling apart, being reclaimed by nature. He powers through the mud and gently takes the piece of cloth that serves as a door in his hand. He pushes it aside and steps into a space much larger than what it looked like on the outside. It's also the exact opposite of what one would expect it to be. It's like a palace; everything is made of gold. He's blinded by how bright it is. The light's reflection on the metal makes him squint.
"Ah, Loki." Ravir's deep and seductive voice surrounds him suddenly. "I've been expecting you." Loki simply nods as he cleans his boots with one swipe of his hand. He reminds himself of her one rule. Do not touch her. She may only touch you. He starts making his way through the long golden hall. There are columns reaching so high they fade into nothingness against the white light from above. At the end of the hall stands a golden chaise longue draped with the finest silks and furs. Next to it is a low table with a bowl, filled to the brim with fresh fruits from all over the universe. Loki recognizes some, but not all of them.
"I would like to speak with you face to face, Ravir." Loki frowns. "It's urgent. Important."
"Important to you, perhaps," the voice speaks. She sounds amused. Loki takes a breath.
"It's no laughing matter, I am worried for the one I saved." The room shifts, suddenly feeling very different from how it did before. A thick, golden mist covers the floor and turns into a shape. It dances around him. He has her full attention now. She knows who he's talking about.
"The Midgardian child?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about her first." It's an odd request. One Loki isn't sure is even relevant. He wants his vision explained and he most certainly doesn't want any magic wielder to know what Daphne is. What he turned her into by accident.
"She is in danger," he says to the point. "A few days ago, I woke up from a worrying vision."
"Oh?" She replies, curious.
"Can you help me identify what I saw?"
"For a price, yes."
"Name it," he breathes. The shape in the mist floats to his left side and inches closer.
"Knowledge," she whispers in his ear.
"What kind?" He stays vigilant and eyes the shape without turning his head.
"She's not human, Loki. Not since you saved her."
"She's still very human." Loki doesn't sound convinced himself.
The mist starts solidifying. The shape turns into a beautiful woman. Her skin is soft, but looks like it's made of solid gold, just like the hall. Her golden hair is braided into dreadlocks and reaches down to her lower back. She is naked, save for all the golden jewelry covering her hair and body. With every move she makes, gold dust falls off her shoulders.
Her warm hands caress his cheeks, but he does not give in. He can't slap her hand away, nor can he lean into her touch. He has to let it happen.
"What knowledge do you want, Ravir?" She moves her face towards his. Her nose tickles his skin.
"I cannot see her," she mumbles. "She carries a magic that protects her from being seen by people like me." Her hands ghost to his chest. "This means she has changed. She is no longer what she was at birth." She presses her nude body against his.
Loki is rather surprised that her purrs and physical attention are not doing anything for him. Not right now, at least. He has priorities.
"What is she, Loki?" She lets her golden tongue run over his jawline. "Tell me and I will give you the answer you seek." Loki closes his eyes. He's really just... Not affected by her teasing. Instead of fighting the urge to touch her, he's fighting his rational side inside his head. He needs to know what's going to happen, but he shouldn't tell Ravir about Daphne. He really shouldn't. But he has to know.
"Promise me you won't use her." He slowly opens his eyes to be met with her sparkling ones. There's an intrigued glimmer in them. She knows.
"Zephyr," she whispers excitedly. "You made her a Zephyr?" Loki presses his lips on top of each other. Regret seeps through his voice.
"Yes."
Ravir lets go of Loki and floats away from him, the gold dust that falls off her shoulders makes it seem like she's wearing a cape.
"There hasn't been a Zephyr in over 700 years."
"I didn't mean for this to happen to her." Ravir turns back to Loki and sits down on the chaise longue.
"And that is exactly why it happened." She places a leg on the chaise longue and leans back. "One can never create a Zephyr knowingly. That's why they are so rare." She turns to lazily lie on her belly and flicks her wrist, inviting Loki to come closer. He follows her command, but stops at her side, staying a safe distance from her.
"And my vision?" Loki asks. Ravir pushes herself up and blows some of her dust from her open palm towards Loki. He stands still, letting the magic envelope his head. He breathes in some of the dust and allows his mind to wander to the memories he has of his vision. Ravir makes a discontent noise. It's something he's never heard her do before. This makes it even more concerning.
"The sorcerer you saw, goes by the name of Somm. Don't be fooled by his appearance. He is older than most," Ravir says as she grabs a small berry from the bowl of fruit. She lays on her back and feeds it to herself by extending her arm dramatically and letting it fall into her opened mouth. "You are right to fear for the child." Loki takes a small step forward.
"Why? Please, tell me," he pleads. He hates begging, but does it anyways. He has to know.
"He uses people. He once used me." She slowly lets her head rest on the back of the chaise. "And he collects Zephyrs." Loki's stomach turns into an endless pit.
"Does he know she exists?" She stares blankly ahead for a second. Her eyes light up and when she snaps back to the present, she looks at Loki.
"To my knowledge, he is unaware." She stands up and swings her hips as she walks towards Loki. Her hand glides up and down his arm as she passes him. "I don't usually pick sides, Loki. But this sorcerer does things even I do not agree with."
"Can I kill him?"
"Unlikely." Loki looks at his feet.
Loki's mind is racing and he bites the inside of his cheek.
"What does he do to the Zephyrs he... Collects?"
"I don't think you want to know." She sounds sad. Disgusted even. She dropped her seductive facade and seems genuinely concerned. This is a completely different side of her that she never shows. Somm must be really be horrible if he can break her like that. Loki looks up at her defiantly.
"I do." Loki has never seen her beautiful face contort the way it did now. She turns away from him and her shoulders droop. A gust of golden dust falls on the floor.
"A channeled Zephyr experiences a lot of pain. The ones I have met fight back, until..." She pauses.
"Until...?" Loki urges her to continue.
Ravir turns to face him.
"He treats them like deities. But his ways are twisted. He gives them everything he wants them to want and he fills their heads with spells and curses until they forget who they are and what they are supposed to feel. Until all they know and care about is him." Loki holds his breath. She looked like a Goddess. That's what he thought of Daphne in his vision. He cannot let this happen to her. His dearest Daphne. Somm has to die.
"And there really is no way for me to kill him?" She sighs.
"Death can happen to anyone, given the right circumstances. Many have tried what you wish to do now. All have failed."
"Then what are the right circumstances?"
"The only way I can think of stopping him is to use what he wants against him." Loki scoffs at what Ravir implies.
"And bring her straight to him? No. No, I will find another way." Loki stomps to the exit. When he reaches the cloth, he stops and turns back to Ravir. "Thank you for your knowledge," he says politely. Ravir stops him in his tracks with her raised voice.
"Before you go," Ravir says quickly. "You have my word." Loki frowns.
"Your word?"
"I will not use the Zephyr." She slowly turns into her golden mist again. "Her magic is no use to me anyways."
"Thank you." Loki ushers softly before making his way out. He's going to have to pay another visit to the library. This time he's going to study how to kill an ancient sorcerer.