//------------------------------//
// Entry Twelve 
// Story: The Hermit's Tale 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
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Entry Twelve

I have removed another long period of logs. While several events that occurred could be considered as important to the overall narrative, they are also easily summarized thus:
- The Pious built their church near the Equestrian border. Their 'missionaries' have been traveling in all directions and made contact with a griffin garrison, which they then proceeded to attempt to preach to. As the griffins are still on neutral terms – at best – with Looking Glass World's ponies, and are actively hostile towards most other races, this quickly resulted in escalation into violence.
- The Pious defended themselves aggressively. They caused great damage to the griffins and their garrison, and then returned to their church, or Sanctuary, as they refer to it.
- Equestria was accused of harboring enemies of the griffin nation and beginning an invasion. The griffins quickly locked down their borders and sent messages to their allies.
- Freya, serving as an ambassador alongside my liaison Antares Mīrus, met with several griffins to attempt to stop a war from starting. A deal was quickly worked out where the Pious would be asked to leave Equestria and would issue a formal apology to the griffin's ruling council.
- Over the course of a week I dealt with diplomacy between the Pious and Valkyrie Freya and eventually brokered a deal. The Pious will retreat from Looking Glass World for five years, and when they return, they will build their church near the Skin Walker settlement in the wilds west of Ponyville. They also sent a messenger to take an apology to the griffins.
- Antares Mīrus has done fairly well as liaison, carrying messages back and forth between Midgard, Valhalla, and the Pious both in Asgard and Looking Glass World. I hope he continues to keep up the satisfactory work.
The conflicts between Pious, ponies, and griffins have been mended, and peace continues to be stable. Freya is satisfied that the Pious will be removed from Equestria and the griffins have reopened their borders. Several years have passed now since these events with no deterioration or change, although Freya has spoken to me more than once, concerned about the Pious' interest in rebuilding their position in Looking Glass World in roughly one year's time now.
Few other truly remarkable events have occurred over the last few years. I realized that I was pruning entire months at a time from the narrative and leaving in very small segments that have little bearing on the current state of affairs, and more personal value. Therefore, I have moved these stories to a personal journal.
An important event is now approaching, however, which I felt was crucial to include in this narrative after a space of four years of edited-out tedium and relative unimportance. I am proposing several major legislative changes today, several for my own personal benefit as much as Valhalla's, and I feel that this may make me a target for hostilities. It may also disturb both Gymbr and Hel, who I have remained in uneasy alliance with.
A side note: Hel and Gymbr still have yet to actually meet and negotiate with one-another, despite the fact they both expressed such an eagerness to. Both, however, seem equally intent to try and avoid contact until the other is in a weaker negotiating stance, although I am not sure what would leave either Gymbr or Hel in a less-than-desired starting position.
I will now permit the narrative to resume and strive to make any further edits in the body of the narrative itself, to ensure full readability.

Terra kisses the back of my neck as she slips my suit jacket onto me, and I sigh a little even as I work to repress a smile. She's been much more affectionate than usual lately, but... I think I understand why. All the same, I'm not doing this to make her love me more. I'm doing this because she deserves it, and I feel I deserve it, too. This is in no way altruistic... it's very selfish, at the end of the day.
I button my dress shirt closed over the bone necklace, then turn around and push awkwardly at her when she leans in to try and kiss me, saying mildly: “Enough, Terra. Are you ready?”
“I am.” Terra smiles proudly, straightening and nodding firmly. She's adorned with not only her usual bone jewelry, but also twists of gorgeous gold around her forelimbs and neck, shaped like serpents. Show jewelry, the kind of thing Terra hates to wear, but has agreed to on this one formal occasion to try and look a little more... presentable, in spite of the fact she's an enormous, metallic demon-dragon. “Are you?”
The question almost catches me off guard as I brush at my suit jacket slowly, and then I simply nod and smile, when I realize that I actually am. I've been fretting about this ever since I first began to work on the proposals six months ago but... now that it's time to present them all, to push for this... I feel strong, and confident, and ready. And like one way or another, I'm going to make the Heavenly Council agree with my decision.
Terra gazes at me lovingly, and then she leans forwards, and this time I meet her for the kiss despite myself. When we pull away, I smooth down my dress jacket one last time before nodding to her and turning around, saying calmly: “Just remember. Keep your cool, no matter what's said. I don't want a repeat of what happened at Lidya's.”
“Oh, stop bringing that up, it was one time and that asshole was an asshole.” Terra grumbles, but she nods all the same, and that reassures me a little. Just a little, though: I know that when her temper snaps, then bad things happen one way or another.
But I also know that Terra understands the gravity of the situation, and that this isn't just about us. There are other people depending on us as well, and hoping for the approval of these proposals and laws... even if we have our enemies as well, of course. Enemies who will be no doubt vocal in wanting to refute these decrees, even if I've done my best to keep most of what I'm bringing to the table today as secret as possible.
Then again, it's not really a table we're going to. We're holding a full council meeting in the Republic Chamber, and the entire senate will be there as well. I'm looking to introduce sweeping changes to Valhalla, and modify some of the traditions I originally worked to uphold myself in the first place. It's going to be a long, difficult day... and I'm only glad that Terra and my other friends will be there to support me through this process, for better or worse.
This is a little outside my comfort zone, yes: normally I sit at the head of a table, in complete control. I don't have to ask for approval, nor do I have to put on any presentation or give long speeches. I simply maintain current laws, with occasional meetings now and then with the senate to find out what they're currently in session over. And when I create new laws and amendments, they're usually minor enough that it's well within my right to simply change them as I see fit, with minimal input and approval from others.
I start down the hall with Terra striding behind me, my head high, my eyes focused forwards. I feel like I'm being watched on the walk, but tell myself that's just paranoia: things aren't going to start getting messy until after my presentation is complete.
I'm putting a lot at risk, but... I'm confident things are going to be okay. I've discussed this with Freya, who approves of my agenda, and Gymbr has offered to provide whatever protection I desire. And even with the creature still locked away in his solitude, there's very little that Gymbr can't do.
Most important of all, Terra is with me, literally and figuratively. It's what gives me the strength to do this, what gives me the reason to risk this: I know the real problem isn't going to be the proposal itself, after all, but what the proposal represents. It will be the fact I'm challenging traditions, that I'm looking to change some of the laws first set in place by Odin and the Aesir themselves.
When we enter the Republic Chamber, Terra breaks off to sit with Excelsior, Pipsqueak, and – surprisingly – a bouncy, excited-looking Hel. I'm unsure about how I feel about her presence here now of all times, although the sight of her amongst my supporters... I'd rather have her there than sitting with my enemies. Not that I have many enemies, politically-speaking, but even if I am the only person who can rule Valhalla, there are plenty of those who think I should be a figurehead and nothing more.
I myself stride down to the center of the theater, to the open, circular pit where the other speakers and lawmakers are assembling. There are three rows of benches that go around the circular presentation area, and I sit on one of the middle benches, as do the other lawmakers and judges and magistrates, many of whom have advisers that sit on the lower and upper benches. It's like an uncomfortable sandwich of underlings: an unfair thought, but I've always found that stress brings out the most sour parts of my personality.
I was very specific about wanting no one to sit with me on this occasion. It may look like I'm trying to take all the credit if my proposal is met with success, but I prefer to think of this as taking all the blame during the inevitable conflict that's going to erupt.
I shake my head as I settle impatiently on the bench, looking moodily out into the center of what is colloquially known as 'the pit.' Not just because it sits so low in the center of the amphitheater, but because of how the semi-anonymity provided by the thick crowds and the dim lighting over the audience seems to encourage people to behave as nastily as possible. The name 'Republic Chamber' for this particular presentation hall is really an ironic joke: it's in this place that Valhalla is more divided and savage than anywhere else.
Soon, the master of ceremonies strides out to the center of the pit, ringing a bell loudly to silence the murmur of conversation and bring in everyone's attention. The law-keeper – a glorified announcer – unfurls his scroll as he and the toted bell-ringer stand together, before the angel declares clearly: “This full congregation of the ruling powers of Valhalla has been called by Lord Kvasir, King of Valhalla, to declare a self-described 'sweeping change' to the laws of Heaven. Lord Kvasir, you may take the floor.”
I nod as I stand, striding out into the pit and clearing my throat as I place my hands behind my back. I look up, calmly, coldly, over those gathered here today, and try to swallow the dryness in my mouth. My eyes rove over the audience, the rows and rows of seats beyond the magistrates and lawmakers, filled with members of the senate and councilors. Few people in this audience don't have a voice, don't have the power to try and block this decision. Even if enough of the people sitting near the far back wall disagree with me, I may be forced to use my power to overrule council, senate, and anyone who disagrees with me... and risk looking like a tyrant in the process.
I look back and forth slowly, then raise my head and say clearly: “During the course of reviewing Heaven's laws, I discovered that no angel, no Blessed, no citizen of Heaven is permitted to marry a demon or immigrant from Helheim or related planes. Therefore, I wish to amend this law, and to abolish traditional marriage requirements for lords and nobles, granting those of high standing to exercise a right to marry whoever they want, be it from Heaven, Midgard, or Hell.”
There are shouts at this, outrage and profanity amongst a few cheers and other yells, and I raise my hand: of course, this is not my usual battleground. This is not a place where I can see the dissenters and pick them out with ease. This is a place where they continue to shout, and yell, and express their disapproval in the most childish, temperamental ways they can.
So let them. My voice is louder, steadier, sharper. I am dedicated to the path that I have chosen to take. “We are not animals to be bred for purity, and there are no longer gods and giants of every shape and size milling through the halls and Vale. Furthermore, Helheim and Valhalla are no longer enemies. And personally, I will not sit around, curtailing my actions to outdated rules, waiting like a purebred dog to breed with the first bitch of my own race that raises its tail for me.”
There are still shouts. Boos. Disapproval and anger, and recriminations. And the reek of fear in the air, fear of change, fear of breaking tradition, and most of all fear that I am seizing power. Unsurprisingly, though, there's little outcry from the rings of benches: they're not cloaked in numbers and shadows like the audience.
I look up in disgust. Cowards. Fools. I feel anger, but I rein myself in even as I look up and say in defiance: “I have chosen my own wife, in an act that I hope will set the precedent for future generations, and will solidify our growing alliance with Helheim. I am King of Valhalla, and I have chosen to take Terra of Clan Isenertos as my Queen.”
The yells increase, there's horror, disapproval, and I'm... disgusted. When she was my mistress, it was fine. The laws even stated that my mistress – or even a prostitute – could bear an heir, in the case that there was no Queen, or the Queen never birthed a child. But when I say I want to raise her to a position of power, give her status... no, give her the ability to stand eye-to-eye with Heaven's 'nobles...'
What nobles? What nobility? They're cowards. And I don't know what makes me angrier, the jeering senate audience, or the fact that many of the lawmakers and councilors around the pit clearly disapprove, but don't speak up against me because... I can see them. I can identify them, and they're afraid of being punished. Where is the vaunted honor of Valhalla?
And then the sound of clapping begins. It cuts through the air, like a giant smashing boulders together, and slowly, everyone falls silent as all eyes draw upwards towards the source of the sound. I look up in disbelief myself to see Hel is on the stairs, coming down towards the pit with a wide grin on her face and her eyes burning with appreciation and pleasure, and as she approaches, her voice whispers in my ear, despite her still standing so far away: “You've chosen your friends wisely.”
The ice puppet reaches the pit, looking back and forth with a smile. Someone shouts at us, but Hel only clicks her tongue before she reaches up and flicks her wrist... and there's a blast of ice and a scream of agony before the goddess says loudly in the shocked silence: “Now, now, where I'm from, we don't put up with that kind of rudeness. Baby gets a spanking when he's a bad boy and doesn't shut his damn fool mouth.”
There's silence, and Hel giggles behind a hand before her frosty bovine features turn towards me, licking her lips as she remarks cheerfully: “Oh, Kvasir! King of Valhalla, I knew you had some brass balls polished up beneath all the layers of cotton pants and silk panties you wear!”
I glower at her. Hel only grins wider, her eyes gleaming as she looks back at me pointedly before raising her arms and gazing up over the hall, calling loudly: “Friends, neighbors, miserable subjects! Lend me your ears, your eyes, and most especially open up your minds and let in some fresh air, some new thinking, and the slightest spice of poison! Now I hear you all, I see you all, and I know you must be more than a little worried about things, but you just listen to your Auntie Hel when she says this is the best thing I've seen in a long, long time.”
In a flash, Hel goes from posing on her own to leaning over me, her arm around my shoulders, a wide, cheerful grin on her face. “You see this guy here? Most of you think he don't got the stuff to be a proper King of Valhalla. Me, on the other hand? I think there ain't no better guy for the job, and do you know why? Because unlike the rest of you morons, he's not scared of his own shadow, he's stubborn enough to see anything he plans through to the end, yet humble enough to recognize that bluster and pride ain't gonna take him round and around this whole wide universe alone. Admirable qualities. Fantastic qualities. I love this guy. I'm crazy about him!”
Hel throws her head back and laughs, and then she absently snaps her fingers, and ice races up along the sets of heavy double doors leading out of the room, making several councilors that were attempting to sneak out of session stumble back in shock. Hel looks up, and even from here, even with the dimness and the distance, I'm able to see as Hel's bovine, sallow features form out of the ice wall, breathing blue smoke before the enormous Hel-head mocks in time with Hel's puppet voice: “Naughty, naughty, children. Take your seats. This might be Heaven's court, but Hell has the floor.”
Hel laughs again at her own pun, and the councilors go scurrying back for the safety of the crowded seats. Not that it's really safety anymore, as the frozen senator demonstrates. The goddess is too powerful, too all-knowing... and I have ironically never been more glad to have her on my side than I am now. I'm even glad for her shows of power, and somehow I feel like... in a way, this is an act done for my benefit. After all, it's hard to say I'm some tyrant, trying to wrestle power from Heaven, when Hel is dancing around causing mayhem and chaos and essentially holding us all under duress.
What I hate is the thought of owing Hel more than I already do, and I grimace as she skips behind me and grabs my shoulders, looking back and forth over her captive audience as she says brightly: “You see, what Kvasir has started here, is going to be a beautiful friendship.”
I reach up and try to shove her hands away, and Hel easily catches one of my wrists and spins me around before dipping me as if we're dancing, making me grimace as she leans down and grins widely, her eyes gleaming. “Now don't struggle too much, I'm trying to compliment you. Especially for the fact you're doing this all in public instead of trying to hide things under wraps, like that nasty Order 66... or as I'm sure some of you remember it, the Demon Attrition Movement. But I think Order 66 has more of a ring to it, so, you know, I changed the title of that law some time after Valhalla opened its doors back up.”
I scowl up at Hel: I wasn't aware of that. Of course, it makes more sense now, since I've never seen numbered orders anywhere else in the texts or codices. I open my mouth to say something, and Hel just shoves one icy finger against my lips, huffing loudly at me. “Now come on, don't start your whining already! Besides, it was an extremely appropriate change, you're just too dumb to know that. And we're also in council right now. It's definitely rude as hell to try and bring up one topic when we're totally on the topic of something else, and something oh-so-much-more interesting.”
Hel pauses, then she looks back up with a slight smile over the audience of muttering councilors and senators and lawmakers and other officials, before she says kindly: “I'll make it easy for all of you. If you don't pass this law, I'm going to go downstairs and tell all my friends that we're not going to be sharing anymore with Heaven. No soldiers, no food, no nothing, but don't worry: the Archives have some nice, cozy iron nannies waiting to cuddle up any Heavenites who get stuck in the pit. They'll hug 'em nice and tight until you boys and girls learn a little tolerance.”
There's silence, and I shift uneasily as I look back and forth: Hel has taken the focus off me but... at a cost. Now I look like I've bumbled right into some malicious ploy of the goddess', like this was less my idea and more a failed negotiation with Helheim.
It hurts my ego, yes: but at the same, I keep my mouth shut, only glaring angrily over at Hel. But the goddess winks, leaning down slightly and whispering in my ear: “If you want this ratified so bad – and believe you me, I have a personal interest in seeing this kind of law passed too – then shut up and swallow your pride.”
“No, never!” I'm surprised that shout didn't come from me, although for a moment I'm left wondering whether or not my inner child has somehow manifested in the real world as the voice continues angrily: “How dare you march in here, again attempting to influence us through threats and treachery, again attempting to put Hell over Heaven! We are not your servants; it is you who should be loyal to us!”
There are murmurs of agreement and assent, and I sigh and shake my head slowly before Hel huffs and leans forwards, glaring back and forth. “That's real brave coming from a loser wearing an invisibility charm! Why don't you come down here and say that to my face, huh, huh?”
“We don't need Helheim... any more than we need a weak king like Kvasir! Declare hostilities and throw Kvasir out!” shouts another voice, and Hel looks less than thrilled at this as she scowls back and forth. “Down with Hell!”
“I can't tell if you're talking about me or the big icy place I rule.” Hel says mildly, pointing at the ground with two fingers, and I sigh and lower my head. This is all very quickly falling apart, as the council begins to work itself into a frenzy, more people shouting, more yelling, others egging on the chaos to cover up their own personal agendas.
I didn't expect this issue to bring the tensions we've had with Helheim to a boiling point. I honestly didn't. I expected personal attacks and conflict, but not that those in Heaven arrogant enough to believe we don't need the firepower and commerce from Helheim to survive would pounce on it as a platform from which to attack the treaties and alliances I've forged. And while I'm sure Hel's presence and shows of power have something to do with the hostilities, I also feel it was naïve and childish of me to expect anything different from this cacophony.
It's chaos. There's yelling, arguing, shouting. Even the inner circle of lawmakers has erupted into arguments on both sides of the now much-larger issue. I grimace as I look back and forth, and Hel waves a hand uselessly, hopping up and down and glowering around as she adds her own shouts to the rising din.
The problem with gathering so many people who like to shout and argue in a room together is that when conflict erupts, the chaos grows with it, and often to disproportionate levels. As things grow louder and angrier, stupid, animal aggression sometimes takes over, especially as arguments drop from intelligent and rational debate to slurs and insults and ridicule. And then, as often happens, things take a nastier turn when someone loses their composure completely and flings a book towards the pit.
Hel glances up as the book sails towards her... and then everything simply stops. The text floats ominously only a few feet away from making contact with the ice puppet, and there's silence through a room now veiled in a strange, dismal blue light. People are still moving, but their movements are sloppier, slower, as if the air itself has become thick, muffling their bodies as much as their sounds.
The ice puppet puts its hands behind its back, and then Hel says softly: “Odin may not have been a good king, Kvasir, but even at his worst he commanded respect. Back then, the gods knew there was a time for temper tantrums, and a time for discussion and seriousness... and they were well aware there were consequences for behaving badly.”
I look up, and Hel smiles: it's not her usual smile. It's as icy as the construct she acts through, as she raises a hand and says disgustedly: “Sometimes dogs must be whipped.”
She clenches her hand into a fist, and blades and boulders of ice tear upwards around the hall, jutting through the benches and smashing apart wood and tile. People are thrown in all directions as I stumble forwards, staring back and forth in shock as thick frost twists around pillars and crawls in an icy webwork over the ceiling.
And in this thick, depressed air, bodies are flung lethargically, moving slowly as if gravity has lost its mastery to the soupy atmosphere. And somehow, what strikes me most of all is the way sounds are so muffled still, how the glaciers tearing their way up out of the floor come with not thunder, but with gasps, how the world shakes and yet the air grips like a cushioned vise.
I begin to reach towards her, my movements slow and stupid but still trying all the same to... to stop her. This is not how I want to rule Valhalla, how I want to command respect. This is not my vision of how diplomacy and law should work! But without looking at me, Hel sweeps her arm to the side and catches me around the shoulder. Her grin returns, but her eyes are still predatory in her cow-like features as she says kindly: “Just a small demonstration of why we should all be mature and talk this out, instead of resorting to... nastiness. Here, come up with me.”
Hel absently makes a flicking gesture with her free hand, and I stumble even as she steadies me against her when the ground beneath us rumbles violently before a tower of ice tears through the stone, ascending rapidly and carrying us upwards as it becomes a frozen pedestal, a blue, cold stage.
We stand on the tower side-by-side, in the center of this meeting hall: no longer in the pit, but above, drawing the eyes of the cowering masses below. They are terrified, and we are powerful, and it leaves me... very much afraid. Many are injured, a few are trapped in ice, and while none are dead almost all of them are scared that very soon they will be.
“There's not much difference between what sprawls before you and Odin's rule.” Hel says conversationally, and I grimace at her as a shiver runs along my spine. She gestures out over the audience: trapped, frozen, hurt: no, not all of them. Only the ones who spoke out, but I see that Excelsior, Aria... Terra... are all fine. “Odin regularly injured or killed those who disagreed with him at the wrong time or the wrong place. Odin used fear and punishment to keep a person in line as much as anything else, you know this.”
“That is not how I wish to rule.” I mutter, and then I glare at her when she smiles down at me patronizingly. “What?”
“Words alone won't take you anywhere, Kvasir.” Hel chides, and then she snaps her fingers, the blue light brightening, that sense of weight intensifying. I grimace as I look down, and Hel only giggles as she points at a sprawled-out pony. “Look, look! He fainted! And peed! Maybe not in that order!”
I sigh tiredly, and Hel huffs before saying flatly: “Oh come on, it's not like I killed any of them. Just scared them. Just made them listen. Just showed them their actions have consequences. There's nothing wrong with that, Kvasir, I'm doing you a favor!”
“Our actions define us, Hel.” I look down over the chamber, sighing again as I shake my head slowly. “Resorting to simple acts of violence and shows of power like this... it's the easy way out, and only increases the risk that when the stick is no longer present, they'll lash out, act out. They begin to require the threat to function. These are, in many cases, people who have already lived and already died, and long fallen into this mindset: I want to either conquer them or change them. Not just terrify them and overrule them.”
“You want too much. Sure, I understand what you're saying, and it's a great theory. The problem is that great theories don't always work in practice. That nothing is a hundred percent. And that some people are just bad apples, and in a place like this, everyone's going to hate everyone else no matter what you do.” Hel replies pointedly, gesturing easily with one hand. “Now, my Grand Council? You'd never see this kind of garbage, because they all know that if they act anything less than their best and brightest, I'll cut their heads off. And if they're lucky, they'll be dead, instead of... oh, you know me, I'm creative. And just killing them always seems like such a waste.
“This is getting your point across, and asserting your dominance. Because really, Kvasir, we're all just animals, and moral standards, right and wrong, good and evil... none of it really matters at all.” Hel says almost kindly, petting me on the head and earning a grimace from me. “You gotta put yourself first and be a little sociopathic. That's how you live life to the fullest.”
I look down for a moment, then gaze back up and meet Hel's eyes, asking her quietly: “And how's your life, Hel? Infinitely powerful, an entire kingdom bowing to you, and so scared of shadows that you have to hide outside the physical universe itself and so desperate for a friend you keep harassing me through these puppets, that no matter what-” I reach out, seizing her wrist, squeezing into the cold limb. “Can never let you feel contact of any kind.”
Hel looks down at me with incredulity for a moment, then she yanks her arm free and shivers once... before strangely, she smiles at me. She puts a hand over her breast and holds her other arm to her side, then she bows deeply before beginning to slowly, visibly melt into the pillar as she says softly: “No need to be so cruel, Kvasir. Your point is made and you actually cut a chord in my brittle little heart. I'll let you finish things off your way.”
I look down, feeling... almost uncomfortable as the puppet of ice dissolves completely into the tower of ice. I shake my head slowly, then turn my eyes out over the Republic Chamber as the blue aura fades from the air, and I survey the chaos... and strangely, the order that chaos has imposed.
Everyone's quiet. The injured lay here and there, but the only voices are hushed and uneasy. No one is struggling, no one is attempting to flee or charge the pit, no one is yelling or shouting. Everyone has fallen in line for the moment, and I feel that... temptation again. I look down, and think that with Gymbr... I could enforce my rule like this any time I wanted.
But it would be wrong. Easy does not always mean good, just as effective does not always mean correct. We can say the ends justify the means, that doing what is best for the majority overrules the desires of the minority... but that would only be true in a world of black and white, and in a universe where there was more good than there was evil, where everything is more than just a mess of shadows and people of middling morality.
I look over the crowd, then say clearly: “I think Hel's demonstration speaks for itself. No, I do not believe that we need Helheim, that we should rely on Helheim, that we should bow to Hel... but I do believe we should recognize her power, and work together with what was once our enemy.
“I will not back down from my proposal. Nor will I permit Hel to rule Heaven: my Valhalla, as I am King.” I look coldly back and forth. “What is supposed to be our Valhalla, but I see that all of you are more interested in sowing dissent and in putting this place at risk than working side-by-side to fortify and further evolve this vision of Heaven.
“Hel has overstepped her bounds, and I will go to Helheim myself to settle this dispute.” I continue, looking back and forth. “I will ensure that such an event will not occur again and that we are compensated fairly for the disturbance and the damages. But I will also be ensuring there are new rules and laws in place, and a new standard of etiquette will be enforced from now on at these meetings. You act like barbarians and idiots, and I will have order and discussion, not childish bickering and objects flung through the air.”
There's still silence. They're still too afraid to say anything, to resist, and I nod before glancing down at the tower of ice I'm standing on. I can feel the magical energies running through it still, strangely familiar to me, and it's not hard to reach out with my own powers and modify it: in moments, it begins to slowly but steadily melt from the base upwards, lowering me back towards the shattered stone floor of the pit.
As I sink down towards the ground, I look up, seeing ice falling from the doors, watching as it melts away from the victims that have been trapped here and there... and the only thing that I can think to say, in a voice that's more confident and moody than I actually feel at this point and time, is: “Meeting adjourned.”

As I promised the council, I did make a short trip to Helheim, and to the Archives, where I met with Hel. I was accompanied by Terra and Gymbr, the latter of whom hid himself beneath the armor of a Knight of Valhalla. Hel met with us, but only briefly... yet in the few seconds she and Gymbr studied each other through the mask on his features and the ice construct she acts through, they seemed to have a conversation that could fill an eternity with its details.
It served well to make my point: Hel promised several months of peace, and to cause less damage to Valhalla when she does feel the need to interrupt. She also sent a tribute of artifacts and history texts with us... far more valuable than the treasures that the Heavenly Council asked me to collect before I left.
Gymbr returned to solitude afterwards, but had a strange request: it wants to take part in the wedding ceremony Terra and I will be having. The laws are still in the process of being changed, but Terra and I have already finalized the details and even found a place for Gymbr: the entity will serve as my second, or 'best stallion,' as I believe the ponies call it. My only hope is that he's not detected by either of the Valkyries, as I've unfortunately been inclined to ask Freya and Brynhild and their entire family to join us for the celebration. Terra and I both want our wedding to go as smoothly as possible, even if the muddle of ceremonies we've thrown together will undoubtedly cause much... chaos.
I'm nervous. I suppose that must be obvious. I'm trying to write this manually, and my hands don't seem to want to work, can't find the right words. I keep mixing up my words and writing the wrong things and... I don't know why this is so difficult. It shouldn't be. It's only putting words on paper, and yet I'm as unfocused now as I am when I attempt to record this narrative through enchantment.
But lately, when I pick up my quill, I feel the urge to write things that don't strike me as being particularly important. I am trying to keep this narrative record as concise as possible, focus on what's important. My emotional considerations do not have a place here, and I often think that the details of my relationship with Terra also do not. The only reason I do not edit them out is because of my concern about the effect it may have on future events.
I am no bachelor anymore, after all, I am no longer... apart and alone. I have someone who means the world to me, who I would do... anything for, to make happy. Someone who is capable of affecting the decisions I desire to make, to convince me of taking other courses of action, and whom I desire to take care of myself for. Who I look forwards to seeing every day, and who makes me let down my guard.
Emotive rambling, although... perhaps in this case, it's important to the situation. It shows how much I've been affected and it's helped clear my mind and helped me recognize that if I want this narrative to be of any use in the future, if and when something should happen, I need to do more than just form a narrative. I need to present a list of information, and I need to finish making my confessions.
I have avoided the subject since the very beginning, but... I know that I can't continue to. This concerns Gymbr, and the facilities he has created beneath Valhalla. And this concerns both events that occurred before I began this narrative, and resumed only a few weeks ago.
To keep himself stable, Gymbr required samples of my blood. But over the years that passed before resorting to the soulstone core that we implanted in the god to replace his dying Kundalini, Gymbr has attempted many different methods of maintaining stability. All of these I have assisted with, whether it was simply by keeping my silence or helping with his experimentation.
I have stolen from Valhalla's own storehouses and research labs for Gymbr. I have ordered materials from Helheim and other planes of Heaven for his personal use. And I have looked the other way when criminals vanished from Valhalla's prisons: demons, Blessed, others. None of his experiments – ranging from genetic modification to spiritual vampirism – proved successful, and eventually I was able to dissuade him from doing any further... primary research. But I have never been able to talk about it, even to Terra. I feel that, by allowing it to go on for as long as I did, even if the victims were few and far between and none that would be missed... I have failed Valhalla and myself.
And now, in spite of being stable and coherent, in spite of his promises... several weeks ago, I found that Gymbr had kidnapped three of the Pious and had them restrained in his research labs. One was already dead and in the process of being dissected and analyzed like the cadaver of some born-to-die lab animal: the other two had psychic inhibitors bolted into their skulls, to prevent them from being located or passing on any messages.
I was... horrified, and yet Gymbr only smiled at me. And even when I demanded to know what was going on, he simply told me that he was exercising his desire to protect Valhalla from interlopers. He called the Pious strange, spoke of their righteousness with contempt, but had no solid reasons or evidence for what he'd done. And at the end of the day, the main reason he gave was: 'I wanted to know more about them.'
I fear that... Gymbr is slipping back into old ways. Forgetting about the value of others. And so much of me wants to once more be a coward and pretend none of this ever happened after I ordered Gymbr not to kidnap or murder any more Pious and he agreed readily enough, so much of me wants to just overlook this as I overlooked his experiments in the past. So much of me wants to... somehow... trust him still, in spite of everything that's happened in the near and far past.
But my alternative isn't much better: trusting in Hel seems dangerous and insane, particularly given how she does whatever she pleases at any given point and time. But both of them possess a distorted, selfish view of the world, one that endangers even the few things they seem to honestly want to protect... at the end of the day, the only person I can really trust in is Terra, given the fact that... I can be a coward and a hypocrite so often myself.
I have this feeling that... everything is coming to a head, one way or another. That soon, I'll be forced to make decisions I don't want to, that I'll have to negotiate, choose my sides, and settle for uncomfortable alliances with creatures I'd rather avoid contact with if at all possible. I'll have to try and swallow my feelings and hope that I do not allow my emotions, my desire to avoid conflict, to influence how I perform in the days ahead.
I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to handle that, of course. I'm confused, and more than a little uneasy when I think about the problems in front of me. When I think about how complicated things already are, and how hard it is to even write on paper an admission of sins I'd rather forget about, pretend never happened, and altogether avoid the punishment for... and I can't help but think of how badly that reflects on me.
Yet I have to, all the same. I don't want Terra to be ashamed of me, and I know that above all, she values honesty and integrity. I can always strive to achieve the latter while I do everything in my power to maintain the former.
There is one last piece of information I want to record. Something crucial and important, that I removed and placed in my personal journal because I wanted two records of it. Terra knows as well, and I'll be passing on a sealed envelope for Freya to keep and not open. To ensure this, I've painted the envelope in my blood and placed a ward on it. I've hidden the instructions to open it safely.
Reviewing my notes, I've come to understand that Gymbr was not honest about his vulnerability. The soulstone does not simply hold a charge of energy inside it: it is also capable of absorbing the energies of Valhalla – and likely any environment – and acting as a kind of filter, allowing Gymbr to steadily circulate those same energies into his body. In this case, the constant absorption of Valhalla's energies to further empower himself has fortified him against purification.
But Gymbr's body is not synthetic. The soulstone core can seemingly work infinitely, but his muscles and organs and nerves can all be stressed. I first noticed this after Gymbr insisted on demonstrating his powers by creating and shaping a whole new set of rooms beneath Valhalla, including an enormous garden area. As the soulstone core absorbed energy – easy to determine by the way it glows – Gymbr's body began to heat up. It heated to the point where he began to almost literally melt and started to sweat poison again, even though he barely seemed aware of it.
His form healed quickly once his core stopped pulling in power, but it's a notable vulnerability. It's also something he was hesitant to discuss, much more hesitant than the effects of antimagic. I think I understand why, however: antimagic is a double-edged sword, and Gymbr can still function through the effects. It hurts him, but is quickly shrugged off, and even while inhibited he still possesses terrible strength. This... overheating, for lack of a better term, is much more serious... assuming someone can survive for long enough for the core to begin having adverse effects on his body.
I have noted, however, there may be a way to force this vulnerability to take its toll much faster. I have discussed this subject on and off with Gymbr himself, and made a few gestures toward attempting to analyze him, but as mentioned he is very adverse to having this subject examined in detail. He often says that I should assist him in keeping it secret, like I've kept his other secrets, because it is in my best interests to protect him.
Somehow, he never sounds entirely threatening when he says this. And likewise, every time we meet these days, in spite of what I saw him doing to the Pious, he makes this promise to me: 'No matter what actions we take, no matter what we might seem to do, remember that we are working to save Valhalla. Remember that we seek to save our friends and family. Remember, no matter what it may seem, trust in us. We want to save you.'
He's said it so many times I remember the words by heart now. And, even if I find myself wondering just what Gymbr's idea of 'saving' me entails... part of me wants to trust him, all the same, no matter what he does and no matter what he continues to do. No matter how often he seems to lie, or try and make me a party to his crimes, I want to believe in him, and that I haven't made a mistake.
I hope that I'm right.