Decretum

by BlackRoseRaven

A Journey Far Afield

Chapter Fifty Three: A Journey Far Afield
~BlackRoseRaven

Several weeks after the attack at Canterlot, Celestia was still sorting through political turmoil. After the monsters that had been seen, the remains gathered, and everything else that had been witnessed by such a large group of ponies, it had now become impossible for the Royal Council to deny Celestia's claims that there was something greater at work here than attacks by foreign powers or unknown enemies. Partly because the Royal Council itself was based out of Canterlot, and they were now all terrified of the possibility of another attack.

Celestia had begun having platoons of soldiers trained to specifically deal with the threat of monsters, and found herself once more being pushed to assume the throne instead of simply acting as one of the dozen barons and baronesses. But while Celestia cared deeply for her country and her people, she now felt the best place for her was to be somewhere where she could stand alongside her family and friends on the front lines.

Sleipnir was now running back and forth between Canterlot and Ponyville on an almost daily basis: the travel didn't seem to tire him, though, and he seemed to be able to reach Canterlot by road and trail faster than normal messenger could by train or even air. Celestia had him carrying both parcels and messages for her back and forth between village and city, and Twilight, Luna and Scrivener were spending much of their time at the library for the moment, as Scrivy worked to write down everything he had learned about Clockwork World and Luna illustrated both the Decretum Bestiary they were assembling as well as sketched out visions of the twisted layer that Scrivener was now dreaming about almost every time he went to sleep.

Kvasir was staying in Valhalla, where it was assumed – or hoped, rather – that he was safe, watched over by the best warriors Odin could spare. He hadn't been able to give them much insight on exactly what Valthrudnir wanted to do with his blood, but he had been able to explain the reason his blood, called Kvas, was special.

As Celestia had seen, his blood could 'inspire,' as it had inspired the tree into sentient life. It only worked on organic objects, however, like trees and plants and certain animals that weren't entirely intelligent. Otherwise, drinking his blood was like drinking watered-down Ambrosia, enhancing a person's natural healing for a short period of time and providing sharper focus.

Kvasir was silent for a long time after explaining this, but the next day, while most of the ponies had still been in Canterlot to rest up and help clean up the castle after the disaster of the Restoration Celebration, he had come to them of his own free will and explained quietly that Valthrudnir would sometimes drain large amounts of his blood out of his body, but he wasn't sure what it had been used for. Valthrudnir didn't drink it himself: he thought he was the master of all knowledge in the universe already, after all, and would never lower himself to 'sipping from a plebeian cup.' But he had been using it for something... except one day he had simply stopped gathering it.

The homunculus god had hesitated for a long time afterwards as Celestia, Sleipnir, Scrivener and Luna had discussed possibilities, but none came to mind for any of them. Kvasir had finally spoken up again, saying quietly there wasn't a lot he had been able to see from the trophy case in Valthrudnir's den... but that Valthrudnir did keep records he may have hidden somewhere, that Odin might have also gathered up.

When Odin had come to Canterlot later that day to retrieve the god, Scrivener and Luna had spoken to him about this with Kvasir. And after badgering, threatening, and pleading with him, the once god had finally sighed and said tiredly: “Very well. Only because I recognize the value of information and how important this is... but I will take you and Scrivener Blooms to Niflheim, and to Valthrudnir's manse. But in good time: you will need to prepare, and prepare well, for the dangers that may await there.”

So as the weeks had passed, Scrivener and Luna had prepared with surprising seriousness. Sleipnir and Celestia both wanted to go, but Celestia had Canterlot to look after as it was once more repaired, and Sleipnir had agreed to stand by his big sister and to help look after Ponyville while Luna and Scrivy were gone. Pinkamena, on the other hand, had already declared that she was going to join them no matter what they said: even with the threat of passing into Helheim territory and running into demons that would be very eager to make an example of what they did to 'blasphemers' like Pinkamena, she was resolved to come with them.

“Besides, I'll be even stronger down there. Might even be able to pick up a few new tricks.” Pinkamena reasoned in a surprisingly-cheerful voice as she adjusted her ribbed armor, and then she grumbled when Pinkie Pie hugged her for the dozenth time in the last hour around the neck, sighing tiredly. “I'm going to come back, sissy. The stupid store is up here, among other things.”

“Just be careful.” Pinkie Pie drew back with an embarrassed smile to sit beside Fluttershy, who reached up and gently rubbed the bright pink pony's back. “You all be careful, okay guys?”

“We will be.” Twilight promised quietly, smiling faintly: she was wearing a thick black cloak, but her body and limbs were protected by tight scale mesh. She hesitated, then glanced quietly towards Scrivener and Luna, who were both in full armor... and Luna even had her spear at her side, letting Twilight know how serious this was. “But... are you sure we'll be enough?”

“Better just us than to bring a large group into such a dangerous netherworld. Niflheim is little more these days than an extension of Helheim, after all... we must be very wary.” Luna replied quietly, shaking her head slowly with a grimace before she glanced up at the group in front of them, ready to see them off: Applejack with Avalon and worried Antares, Rainbow Dash with a cast on one foreleg and his wings still wrapped in bandages, Big Mac and Soarin', Fluttershy and Nirvana, Pinkie Pie, Spike and Rarity.

She smiled faintly at the large semicircle, then shook her head before her eyes locked on Soarin', saying firmly: “I am trusting that thou shall do thy duty, Soarin', even whilst I am gone. I do not desire to see thee adopting too many of Rainbow Dash's habits.”

Rainbow Dash rolled his eyes with a snort, grinning over at Soarin' amusedly as the former Wonderbolt blushed a bit. “Don't listen to her. Besides, you already know the scouting and patrol routes... still find it funny, though, you leaving the 'Bolts to... join up with us.”

Soarin' just shrugged, however, looking up at the sky as he said softly: “After what happened, I just... I dunno.” He smiled a little, shaking himself out and reaching up to brush a hoof through his dark blue mane. Without his uniform on, he looked much different: with his light-blue coat and lanky build, beside Rainbow Dash he looked almost like a younger sibling. “I can go back to the Wonderbolts anytime. But first I want to be part of putting a stop to what you guys keep calling Clockwork World.”

“Well, we can use all the help we can get, and having you around to fly patrols and help train other Pegasi is a great help, ain't it?” Applejack smiled over at him, then she sighed a little and turned her eyes to Luna, adding hesitantly: “I hope this ain't... too awkward to bring up, but I feel like this is all starting to form into another thing like the Starlit Knights, though...”

“Aye, but this time we at least know our foe... and this time, Applejack, I swear to thee... no, I swear to each and every one of thee here, that we shan't let Valthrudnir have the last laugh, and we shall save every last life we can.” Luna said firmly, looking slowly over the group with a firm nod. “'Tis... hard, to once more prepare for war, especially against a foe who seems... so indestructible, so unstoppable... but all the same, we can, we will, and we must.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Rarity smiled a little, leaning against Spike and adding softly: “We're all much more prepared this time, as well... and we know what we have to face yet, don't we? I believe that as long as we have each other and stay together... we'll survive.”

“'Tis what I believe as well.” Luna smiled after a moment, glancing over at Scrivener as he nodded slowly and adjusted the satchel bags he was wearing, before the winged unicorn turned her eyes towards the approaching figures of Odin and Sleipnir and grunted at them. “There thou art! Took thee both long enough.”

“Oh, shut up, little sister.” Sleipnir said sulkily, and Luna laughed before Sleipnir huffed grumpily as Pinkamena grinned at him. “And thou shall sleep on the couch tonight, harpy, and I shall sleep in a bed filled with prostitutes and pretties! Such a painful betrayal this is, thou abandoning me after I have offered my services here, how could thou run off to Helheim without me?”

“Very easily.” Pinkamena replied kindly, and Sleipnir huffed at her grumpily before the demon added moodily, as she glanced up at the midday sun: “And if I do come home and find you snuggled up in bed with a whole bunch of ponies, I want you to know that by the time you wake up they'll be whole bunch of corpses. And then I'll make you eat them.”

Sleipnir only grumbled in response to this, then Odin quickly held up a gloved hand before the vine-maned stallion could speak, the once-god interrupting moodily: “If you don't mind, we do have quite a distance to travel today. We'll be meeting... an associate by the Gates of Tartarus.”

Scrivener looked up in surprise as Luna frowned a bit, cocking her head curiously. “And what is this place, an entrance to Helheim?”

“It is a Hell, that is for certain.” Odin smiled slightly after a moment, then he shook his head and added quietly: “My... associate... will take us through Tartarus and Hades beyond to Niflheim. As you are aware, I'm sure, I and the Aesir were not the only group of gods in existence... your charming zebra friend Zecora has her own gods and her own brands of belief, does she not? And sad as it makes me, perhaps her beliefs in her gods are more valid than those who believed in me... look... where we are now, after all.”

Odin fell quiet, looking musing for a moment before he shook his head and smiled over at the others, saying quietly: “But that's not important. What is, is that my associate can safely bring us to Niflheim and close to the hidden pass to Valthrudnir's lair.”

Scrivener and Luna both nodded slowly as Twilight bit her lip a bit, and then Odin glanced down at Sleipnir, saying quietly: “Be watchful, Sleipnir. Who knows what may be lurking on the horizon now... we will return as soon and safe as possible.”

Sleipnir nodded and smiled a little, and then he sighed before meeting Luna's eyes, murmuring softly: “Good luck, my beloved little sister. Take care of thyself, and thy mares.”

Luna smiled and nodded, stepping forwards and trading a firm hug with him before she slipped back, and Pinkamena strode forwards. Demon and vine-maned stallion glared at each other for a moment, and then they both sighed before trading their own tight hug and a short, gentle kiss, drawing apart as Sleipnir gave a wry smile. “I'll be jealously and anxiously waiting for thee with thy sibling and Kǫttr. Do bring our son back a gift, will thou?”

“Don't call the damn dog that, it's creepy.” Pinkamena said grumpily, but then she grunted and nodded, saying moodily: “Fine, though. Whatever I don't eat, he can have.”

Sleipnir smiled at her, and Luna laughed quietly, shaking her head slowly before her eyes roved towards where Scrivener was standing by Antares, gently ruffling his son's mane as he gazed down at him softly. “Be brave, Antares. We'll be back by tomorrow.”

Antares nodded quietly, looking up at them softly before Luna strode over and leaned down, picking up her son in a tight, firm embrace for a moment, and he hugged her tightly back as he whispered: “I'll be brave. I love you, Mom, Dad.”

“As we love thou.” Luna said quietly, setting him gently down before she reached up and stroked slowly under his chin, looking into his eyes softly. “Adored and beautiful child. Fear not, I shall bring thou back something special.”

Antares smiled after a moment, nodding quietly, and Luna patted him firmly once on the head before she looked up at Applejack warmly. But before she could speak, the goldenrod mare shook her head and laughed, saying softly: “You don't have to say a word. Antares is a great little colt and Avalon loves his company, don't you, Ava? So it works out all around. I'm more than glad to look after him for as long as you need.”

“Tares!” Avalon agreed, nodding as she clutched her half-full sippy-cup of cola against her as she beamed around, wiggling a little. She was as happy and bouncy as ever, and it was almost as if she had never thrown herself into the fight against Courage: it made Scrivener envious of a child's ability to simply move on with life.

They said the rest of their goodbyes, traded hugs and promises, and then Odin calmly turned to begin leading them down the road and on the journey that would take them all the way to the lair of a Jötnar. He was using his walking stick today, but not leaning on it too heavily, at least... but all the same, Luna was looking at him apprehensively even before they reached the gates of Ponyville.

Odin waited until they had left town to finally address her, however, looking slowly up into the calm blue sky as he said softly: “If something happens, Brynhild, no, I do not expect you and your friends to carry my weight. I expect you all to take care of yourselves, as I shall take care of myself. Besides, I may be old, and tired, but I am still perfectly capable of defending myself if need be.”

Luna grunted at this, looking irritably up at the falcon-headed entity as she said dryly: “Oh, so I shall just leave thee to die at the claws of some demon, then? Well, no, I do not care about that so much as I care about the fact that thy blood is a precious resource, once-god. Thou art Odin, after all.”

Odin smiled over at her at this even as Twilight and Scrivener both traded exasperated looks at Luna's tactlessness, and then the once-god said mildly: “Then if we end up surrounded by demons, I promise that I will make myself explode, how about that?”

“Can... can thou really do that?” Luna looked up at him both suspiciously and almost excitedly, and Odin sighed and rolled his eye before continuing calmly onwards, and Luna huffed after a moment. “'Tis a fair question! I do not know anyone who can make themselves explode, except perhaps for Celestia... but Celestia has never done it. At least not yet. 'Twill probably be how she dies, though, exploding like a supernova and wiping out half of Equestria...”

“On a more serious note... since we're heading into Valthrudnir's manse to get information, well... with that vision, of Valthrudnir and the Prophet, and her apparent dedication to him, or at least to the so-called 'Clockwork King...'” Scrivener started quietly, and Odin nodded slowly. “How do we know we aren't going to run into guards or monsters, or worse a surprised Valthrudnir just getting out of the shower or something?”

“'Twill make it all the easier to thrust my spear up his buttocks if we do.” Luna grumbled, and Odin didn't seem to know whether to laugh or simply stare before she shook her head and sighed, adding moodily: “But 'tis a good point. 'Twill be most unfortunate if we step into his manse and find it filled with Clockwork abominations.”

“I don't believe that we will, though... I have been keeping as close an eye on things as possible from Asgard, and while it amounts to little more than hunting for signs of life, Valthrudnir's manse is still as empty and hollow as it ever was.” Odin replied with a shrug, and as he looked forwards, he continued in a murmur: “It's reassuring in a way. Valthrudnir, after all, does not strike me as someone who would abandon his home if he did happen to return, whether or not it was clear I had been inside his lair. But we will learn more once we get there.”

“As long as we don't get attacked by anything. I'm pretty tired of getting my flank handed to me on a regular basis.” Scrivener muttered, nodding a little bit before he looked up, hesitating for a few moments before asking finally: “Tartarus. That's from... pre-Equestrian history, yes? Older legends, that contain a lot of the origins of cockatrices, hydras, manticores and other creatures you see around Equestria...”

“As I said, the world was already here, and I would be lying if I said I did everything alone.” Odin smiled a little, looking ahead and saying softly: “We gods all have our sects and clans and divisions. We go, influencing people here and there, and how some of our stories pass down from ourselves to mortals I do not know. I believe that ideas, whether they are fact or fiction, simply have a life of their own: they pass through all the realities in one form or another, and those chosen, lucky few get to hear them and, if they are intelligent and dedicated, record their passage in this shape or that one.”

Pinkamena only snorted in derision, however, looking grumpily up at the blue sky before she asked mildly: “Then why is it so many people who have all the 'good ideas' end up being either bastards or blowhards or crazy?”

Odin only shrugged at this, looking thoughtfully ahead as he replied quietly: “Because perhaps when you gaze too long into wonderment, you eventually lose yourself to it. All fantasy has to be tempered with reality... otherwise, it's as dangerous as any other drug.”

Scrivener nodded slowly at this with a grunt as Pinkamena snorted, and then Twilight looked up and asked finally: “So how far are we from Tartarus? And why is there a gate to what sounds like... well, Hell, in our world?”

“Well, I was gone for a long time, my friends. Other gods, younger and older both, wandered across these layers of reality and taken an interest in them. In all likelihood, I'm sure they were very tempted to try and transform them more to their liking... but I believe several of them ran afoul of Valthrudnir.” Odin glanced away with a grimace, shaking his head slowly. “The Jötnar are all much older than gods, and even when Ymir was alive and Valthrudnir was at least... contained... he was powerful.”

“I have always wondered, Odin, how did thou best Ymir? I know what thou told us, thou defeated him in single combat, but... what is the truth?” Luna asked finally, looking up at Odin curiously, and then she frowned when the once god stopped in the middle of the road, the ponies all looking up at the falcon-headed entity as he simply leaned on his cane... then sighed tiredly and lowered his head.

“I did. What I failed to mention was the fact that I caught Ymir on the edge of Niflheim, after a skirmish with Surt, King of Muspell and the Fire Giants. I know this because it was what Ymir told me himself, as he asked to be given a chance to recover his strength.” Odin shook his head slowly. “I won because Ymir had used up most of his strength fighting Surt... the only way I could win against Ymir.”

He rubbed slowly at the scarred side of his face, muttering: “How I cursed Mimir back then and how I curse him now. He took my eye and let me drink from his well, but mocked that no matter what I did, no matter how I sought power and knowledge, I would still never be anything more than the foolish man I started my life as. That I would live for countless years and learn to regret that I had never been content with a simple quasi-mortal life.”

With that, Odin grumbled and strode onwards, carrying his cane now instead of using it. The ponies traded looks and followed quickly after him, but even Luna didn't press the matter as they turned down a grassy, less-used road from the dirt highway. Their travel was mostly silent from that point on, trading only quiet conversation now and then as they walked for several hours into wild, uncharted territory.

As the sun began to set, they found themselves in a dark, brooding gray landscape: there was a sense of being in the shadows of mountains, but there were only burrows and hills around them, of gray, ugly shale and craggy, short rocks, dead trees desperately clinging to the vestiges of life as they writhed strangely in the windless air.

Pinkamena was grinning, looking slowly back and forth, and Luna couldn't help but grimace as she saw several Strange Ones standing calmly on a hilltop nearby: they were so still and silent that she had almost mistaken them for statues, but one of them was holding a large, black bow... and then Scrivener looked up with a wince as there was a loud, roaring howl that cut through the air.

But Odin only shook his head, saying quietly: “Fear not. Cerberus won't bother us, my associate has assured me of this.”

“I do not like thou speaking of nameless associates. And I like even less I recognize that name. 'Tis a particularly-nasty Hellhound, is it not?” Luna asked moodily, and when Odin gave a small smile, she grumbled under her breath. “Wonderful. Scrivener, did thou bring the camera at least?”

“Yes, I brought the camera, just like you asked.” Scrivener said tiredly, and when Twilight gave him an incredulous look, Scrivener shrugged a bit. “Hey, I thought it was a really stupid idea at first, too, but then Luna and I talked it over and I realize that I could take pictures of the things in Valthrudnir's manse we couldn't bring with us.”

Twilight nodded after a moment at this, although she still looked uncertain, and Odin grunted before he gestured ahead at a figure flanked by two Strange Ones, saying quietly: “There he is. I am sure he'll introduce himself. Brynhild, a word of caution, though... do not antagonize him. I believe the only reason he works with me is because, like me, he is one of the very few of his kind left. It seems a sad truth that all gods... seem to end up destroying themselves and each other, one way or another.”

He sighed a little, then Pinkamena grinned widely, muttering: “Funny. Demons, angels, mortals, gods... what's the difference? We all seem born to destroy.”

“I do not understand how you and my son can be husband and wife. Sleipnir is infuriatingly, childishly hopeful and you are depressingly, despairingly pessimistic.” Odin muttered, and Pinkamena shrugged cheerfully before the once-god turned his attention up to the tall cloaked figure as they drew close, bowing his head politely but silently.

The figure standing between the Strange Ones emitted a quiet, odd clicking: a strange chitinous black belt was locked around its waist, tightly gripping into its brown, simple cloak. And Luna grimaced in distaste as it rose its head, letting the cowl fall back enough to reveal smooth, black, scorpion-like features: malicious dark eyes stared out of sunken sockets as a thin mouth curled in distaste between clicking mandibles, features insectile but composed, cold.

It rose a hand calmly, long sleeves falling back to gesture at them with a hand that possessed three long, flexible claws and a triple-jointed, blade like thumb. Odin grimaced visibly at this, and then he sighed and reached into a pocket of his jacket, digging for a moment before producing a small sack he tossed to the creature. It caught this, then squeezed it slowly before smiling mirthlessly and nodding calmly once at the jingling of coins inside. “You should be thankful I am willing to bend the rules, and they do not have to die. But why is there a prisoner among your group? Does she truly long to return to Hades that badly?”

“She is no prisoner.” Odin said quietly, and then he gestured calmly to the ponies, saying quietly: “Allow me to introduce them. Their names are Luna, Scrivener Blooms, Twilight Sparkle, and Pinkamena.”

“Oh, precious Brynhild, is that this not so?” The creature looked down inquisitively, cocking its head as its belt shifted... and Luna grimaced in disgust at both the coldness of its eyes and as she realized it wasn't wearing a belt at all: instead, those were arms stretching out of narrow holes in its cloak, curled tightly against its sides and with its long fingers laced tightly together. “Their names are not important-”

“Their names are important if you wish to address them, and you will address them by the names that I or they give you.” Odin said quietly, looking fearlessly up into the creature's eyes. Its features twitched with contempt and irritation, but it also visibly tensed before finally giving a short, moody nod. “I believe they wish to know your name, though.”

“Very well.” The scorpion's mandibles clicked rapidly, and then it made a strange half-bow to them as it slipped the bag of coins to one of its lower limbs. The smaller arm snatched this almost greedily, making Twilight flinch before it sharply withdrew into the hole in the cloak, even as it said calmly: “I am Charon. I will guide you through this Tartarus Pit, and then I will ferry you down the River Styx to where Hell meets Hell.”

“There's more than one?” Twilight asked before she could stop herself, and then she flushed as the creature looked down at her with patronizing contempt.

“'Tartarus' is the name we apply to all places of torment where the deserving are rightfully punished and tortured, in the dismal despair they have so earned over their lives. He was once a cruel and evil god.” Charon smiled coldly, looking disdainful. “He is no longer.”

Charon paused, then he turned around and strode calmly towards what looked like a solid, rocky face in a larger mound... but then the strange, cold creature simply waved a hand, and the front of the hilltop vanished from existence, revealing a pair of immense stone double doors inset into a tall, gleaming archway. With another gesture, these rumbled slowly open, and they were greeted by screams and howls and insane laughter that echoed up out of a dismal staircase beyond. “Come. You have a rare opportunity, mortals. To see the Hell that awaits your pathetic kind for their sins of flesh and violence. To compare the Hell that one sees to the Hell that another does: but as they say, the Hell you know is better than the Hell you do not.”

With that, Charon chuckled quietly to himself before calmly striding through the double doors, and Odin shook his head moodily, muttering irritably over his shoulder to the ponies as he followed: “Forget my advice, Brynhild.”

“Oh fear not, I have already decided that should the chance present itself, I shall show him a Hell far worse than any he knows.” Luna grumbled, and Pinkamena growled in agreement as the ponies followed after the once-god. Scrivener glanced nervously over his shoulder at the Strange Ones as they passed into the stone stairwell, and one of them bowed calmly, as if wishing them luck... making Scrivener wonder just what the hell they were getting into even as the stone doors slammed shut behind them.

The journey through Tartarus was unpleasant: screaming things, evil things, things in cells and chains. Gargoyle statues that Scrivener could swear moved from perch to perch in the corner of his vision loomed overhead, and Strange Ones in armor and warrior gear patrolled quietly through the corridors as Twilight shivered. It was a strange and terrible, spiraling prison that Charon seemed to enjoy being in, here and there gesturing at cells as he patronized and mocked both the ponies and the prisoners, whether they were monsters or other things.

They eventually reached a massive iron door at the very bottom of the prison, inscribed with symbols none of them could recognize and guarded by both Strange Ones and other alien creatures. They remained silent as Charon approached the door, then the creature's mandibles clicked as he stroked slowly over the metal, murmuring: “So few souls to care for these days... to bring to their deserved punishment. The old ways are dying, Odin. We are all dying, fading, soon to be replaced. You may have gained a handful of followers through your reincarnations, but they are more worshiped than you are. What is her name... Freya? Is that the one you are-”

Charon turned around, and Odin swung his cane hard across the creature's face, making him hiss in shock and then snarl in pain and humiliation as the once-god said calmly: “You were paid for your services, Charon, not for your endless chatter. We have been polite enough not to antagonize you. Perhaps you should return the favor.”

Charon snorted in disgust and contempt, but then he hammered one of his clawed hands back against the door, and it swung open with a blast of heat and screams as the creature said coldly: “I suppose we must all make sacrifices, Odin. Be they pride or other pretty things.”

With that the creature turned around, striding slowly out into the rocky, brimstone-reeking world beyond, and Odin looked moodily back and forth: the Strange Ones were still only watching calmly, however, and the other guards had pointedly turned their eyes away from the short conflict. Then the once god walked forwards as Luna muttered moodily: “Well, 'tis a good thing thou did it or I would have. And I would have killed him.”

“My associate serves a purpose. Whether we agree on things or not.” Odin muttered, as the ponies followed into the rocky, wastes beyond, and stared out at a world of black stone and orange and red fire, the only light in the world coming from cracks in the broken earth and the bursts of magma and fire that belched towards the sky from vents and floes of lava.

In the distance was a great and terrible falls of fire and lava, spilling down from the stony maw of a demon's face that had been carved into the brown and black rock. Torture instruments of rock and charred wood and heated, half-melted gold stood here and there, and Scrivener breathed hard as he felt a shiver run through him as Twilight clenched her eyes shut for a moment at the oppressive, poisonous feeling in the air, but Pinkamena only grinned widely, whispering: “Landscape might be different, but hey. Still feels like home to me. And still a lot of rocks. What do you think, Scrivy, is fire or ice better?”

“Guess we'll find out.” Scrivener glanced ahead to Luna, who had paused with Odin but was still smiling faintly, not as affected as they were. So instead, the charcoal stallion turned his eyes to Twilight, gently nudging her, and her eyes opened and blinked rapidly before Scrivy said softly: “Stay close.”

She nodded mutely, shivering, and Scrivener turned his eyes ahead as the group started forwards down the steep path. Charon was already far ahead, but it was a simple road down a rocky cliff-side, taking them around a bend and alongside a flowing river of what Scrivener shortly realized was boiling blood... and beneath the surface...

Twilight stared and shivered, then she wretched as she staggered backwards, but Pinkamena leaned in and grinned down at the screaming faces and clawing, helpless victims in the sludgy river, whispering: “Hello there. Give you guys a hint... accept it. Even just pretend to accept it if you gotta, but one way or the other... accept it.”

Then she laughed and drew back, shaking her head out and glancing up with a lick of her lips to look at Scrivener as he comforted Twilight. He glanced up, saw the question in her eyes, and responded with a sudden, short snarl at her, which made Pinkamena shiver in delight before she nodded rapidly, saying almost tenderly: “It is beautiful. It is.”

“B-Beautiful? Horses of Heaven...” Twilight shook her head violently, looking up with a grimace of horror before she forced her eyes ahead, breathing hard as she saw Luna and Odin standing ahead on a long wooden dock with Odin. The two were watching as Charon calmly went about the business of preparing a large, ugly black ferry for travel, rocking gently on the sludgy waves. Iron rings hung from the side of the ship, and its wooden prow was carved in the shape of a snarling, distorted horse's head, a bright lantern hanging from its grit jaws by a large, rusted loop. And the horrible thing was how it seemed somehow... alive.

Twilight steadied herself, and then she nodded to Scrivener, closing her eyes for a moment before starting slowly forwards, trembling a little. Scrivener walked beside her, and Pinkamena followed last, the demon shivering a little as she fought against the urge to let herself transform, her eyes glowing faintly as she murmured: “All this energy in the air... all the emotion and pain and pleasure... what a sweet allure.”

Charon snorted in disgust as he stood at the back of the ship, then motioned calmly at the low seats of the long craft, saying distastefully: “We have wasted enough time dallying.”

Luna snorted in distaste as she gazed over the seats: each bench seat came with a set of chains and manacles, and the winged unicorn couldn't help but ask distastefully: “I am so glad to see thou art obviously so... safety-conscious. Although I imagine that this is not meant to be a pleasure cruise, is it?”

“It is a kindness: I am helping prepare them for the unimaginable tortures that wait ahead.” Charon replied calmly, smiling ruthlessly as he picked up a large, ironwood oar. “Or are you asking to indulge in this experience yourself?”

“I would rather not give thee thy perverse pleasures, monster.” Luna said disgustedly, snorting in contempt as she pawed at dock with one hoof, looking disgusted. “Sadists such as thou are cowards, taking pleasure in the pain of others because they are terrified of agony themselves. Spit all the childish justifications thou desires, but thou art not righteous: thou deserves to drown in this bloody river, wretched bug.”

Charon's mandibles clacked quietly as he glared at her, and Luna smiled sweetly at him before she stepped into the craft, adding pleasantly as she sat herself down in one of the seats near the front: “Besides, 'tis not as I am speaking of that which I do not know. The difference is that unlike thou, I do not seek to justify my darkness and act as if I am part of some great, divine scheme. Nor do I seek to stand upon a safe balcony and mock the pain of others from where they cannot see me.”

Scrivener smiled despite himself as helped Twilight into the craft, and then stepped in himself to sit behind Luna as the violet mare took the single seat on the other side of the aisle from the sapphire winged unicorn. Pinkamena followed next, grinning and sitting near the back and their guide, and Odin came last, sitting himself calmly in the middle of the long, narrow vessel. His hands rested on the top of his walking stick as he gazed ahead, and Charon gazed over those gathered before he said distastefully: “I shall make the journey as short as possible. For all our sakes.”

“Please do.” Luna said drolly over her shoulder, and Twilight gazed at her with exasperation, but also a faint, almost-admiring smile at how even now, the sapphire winged unicorn wouldn't let anything intimidate her, even though they were in some terrible hell, upon a river of blood and...

Twilight shivered as Charon reached down and yanked the mooring line free from the boat, simply tossing it overboard, and slowly, the ship began to drift forwards and towards the center of the river of blood. Charon straightened as he shifted the oar in his grip, then leaned to the side and dug deep through the water with it, propelling them onwards as he murmured calmly: “You may wish to keep your eyes open... I am sure that some of the punishments you may witness are similar to those employed in Helheim upon your wretched and worthless souls...”

“Wretched and worthless as they are.” Scrivener whispered in the dark, strange tongue of the Wyrms before he could stop himself, and the bloody river splashed up around them as a hiss rose through the air.

Charon looked unsettled by this even as he continued to slowly paddle, before he said quietly to Odin: “You... did not mention...”

“There was no need to. And I am sure it was only a momentary slip... brought on by your own need to comment on everything.” Odin replied calmly, leaning forwards on his cane and not looking back at the creature before he said softly: “I learned a long time ago it's much better not to underestimate these people, Charon. For they are not just ponies and animals, they are people, just as I am... and I suppose you are, too.”

Charon grimaced at this beneath his cowl, looking moody as he continued to row slowly onwards. At first, the river was smooth, bathing them in a crimson glow as they passed on the wide, red strait cutting through high, ominous cliffs, and apart from the shrieks that echoed through the air it was almost a calm, smooth travel. But soon enough, one of the cliffs gradually sloped downwards, becoming a rocky, broken plateau.

Minotaurs were imprisoned here, heads bowed, muzzled and blindfolded. Their horns had been cut from their heads and collars were tight around their necks, chains hanging from these and attaching into manacles that kept their hands locked in front of them, then fed down into heavy, rusted stakes in the ground.

And Twilight turned away in horror from the sight of the tortures that had been done to their naked bodies, as Charon said calmly: “Many of their kind still end here. They are a brutal people... they live by wrath. They die by wrath. But it is only here they begin to truly understand suffering... one nail, one screw, one cut, for every pain they inflicted upon another in life...”

Twilight shuddered a bit, turning away and leaning over the side of the boat... and then a hand tore up out of the red water, a half-melted minotaur howling as he tried to lunge free of the river as he grabbed wildly at the boat, and Twilight shrieked and fell into the aisle as the hand seized the edge of the ferry. It rocked it violently as it began to claw upwards, splattering blood over the wood that was almost greedily absorbed as Luna snarled and Scrivener looked up in shock... and then something twisted around, terribly fast, and tore through the minotaur just as he began to haul himself up.

The howling, miserable soul was slowly lifted on the end of an enormous stringer pierced through it, and Charon looked with a contemptible smile at Twilight: his mandibles clicking, the segmented tail extending from behind him shivering once before it twisted violently and lashed the melted minotaur back down into the river. The black stinger gleamed for a moment in midair, then withdrew back behind Charon and vanished into the cloak as quickly as it had appeared, as the creature said mockingly: “Do not fear the dead, little ones. Those who have not paid my toll are not permitted to ride the ferry. You see them below us... miserably fighting the current, trying to get out, not knowing that they're only drawing out their torment and adding to the pains that will be scored upon their heads once they do eventually reach the dark depths of their new home.”

Scrivener grimaced and looked forwards as Twilight slowly, carefully picked herself up, sitting back in her seat and looking up with a tremble, then wincing at the sight of cages above. Several of these were occupied, gaunt, griffin-like monstrosities clawing teasingly at the prisoners inside as ravens cawed loudly, perched here and there on bent branches of the iron bars. “Oh God...”

“God isn't here.” Charon said patronizingly, and then he gazed up at the rocky ceiling high above as he calmly rowed onwards, saying quietly: “I've outlived them all. Even Thanatos himself. What am I, after all, but a lonely ferryman?”

“Row, row, row your boat... gently down the stream...” Pinkamena sang softly, leaning back with a wide grin as her eyes glowed and she looked mockingly over her shoulder at Charon. “Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily... life is but a scream...”

“Do not mock me, prisoner. You would not survive long in this hell... you would be seen as an invader, and the true monsters of this realm would peel you apart.” Charon said contemptibly, but Pinkamena only snorted at this with a roll of her eyes.

She turned her attention back forwards, sniffing disdainfully as she asked moodily: “And how do you know that's not just what I want? Someone who can break me down, and put me back together right, because even now everything's all out of order...”

The demon shook her head grumpily, and Luna gazed over her shoulder at her for a moment softly before the sapphire mare sighed and looked back ahead, asking finally: “When will we be done this ridiculous tour, monster? We are not impressed by fire or brimstone, nor by thy melodramatics or the reek of this vile place.”

Charon didn't reply, only continuing to slowly row onwards, and Luna snorted in irritation. She softened as her eyes passed over Twilight, however: the violet mare was shivering, her face in her hooves as she tried to block out the world around her.

Scrivener glanced up as he felt Luna's emotions, and then he nodded to the sapphire mare before slipping quietly, carefully over behind Twilight and reaching up to grasp her shoulders soothingly, leaning forwards and saying softly to her as she trembled a little: “Just relax, Twilight. We're here, okay? Just keep your head down.”

Twilight nodded a little, but then Charon snorted, his voice contemptible, almost mocking, as he said: “You would weep for these vile sinners? Then you are not a person, nor are you even an animal. You're a wretched fool; that is not a 'depth of empathy' you reveal, but weakness. Your precious tears and pity for these prisoners and monsters only makes them stronger, only makes you all the more appetizing a victim for them... but now I understand why you, lost soul, would travel with companions such as you've chosen for yourself...”

“Shut your goddamn trap, ugly.” Pinkamena snapped over her shoulder, glaring balefully at Charon as Luna snarled as well, and Scrivener tried his hardest to keep his attention forwards, to focus on soothing Twilight instead of getting wrapped up with the persistent mockeries of their sociopathic guide.

Charon only shook his head slowly, however, responding icily: “Do not disrespect me, prisoner. I will not tolerate it from such filth and scum as yourself... and do not think that Odin would dare to stop me from punishing those I have rightful claim over.”

“Oh, you may have rightful claim over the lost and wayward souls, ferryman, but Pinkamena is my daughter-in-law. Lay a hand on her, and you'll be the one who ends up in the river... and I think those miserable Draugar will be all too eager to renew their acquaintanceship with you.” Odin said calmly, and then he reached absently into his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask and opening it to sip slowly at the contents before offering it to Luna when she looked at him with a small smile. “It's just water.”

“My thanks, Odin.” Luna said softly, and her horn glowed as she lifted the flask from his hand before guiding it over to Scrivener. The earth pony took it with a bit of a smile, then patted Twilight on the shoulder, and she looked up at him before smiling weakly and taking the flask, sipping quietly from it and reviving herself a little.

Scrivener took a drink himself before tossing it back to Odin, and the once god screwed the top back on before tucking it away in his jacket again. Pinkamena was lounging moodily back, looking out at the river of blood and ahead, to where the river widened into a strait filled with jagged rockets, against which skeletons and bodies were chained down, some burning, some crying out in misery, others simply hollow and silent. Twilight lowered her head again, but Scrivener couldn't help but stare and shiver a bit at what went through him... not just fear and disgust, but a terrible, dark fascination bordering on excitement.

He closed his eyes, turning his head away as the ferry rolled onwards through the crimson tides: on either side of them rose the jagged teeth and claws of cliffs, but the ugly brimstone was crawling with strange beasts, and even through the venting steam and smoke vomiting up towards the rocky ceiling high above, there were moving and rumbling and terrible shapes, seeming to eagerly watch them through the curtains of poisonous fog.

It stank: not just of fire and copper and smoke, but sweet rot and putrid death. And the further they sailed, the thicker the steam and smoke got, until they were blindly sailing through a crimson river that narrowed into a slit stream between jagged cliffs, Charon using his oar to push against the rock walls as the edge of the ship scraped now and then against black stone. The only point of light now was the lantern, and the glow it cast bled only weakly through smoke and steam... but Charon was barely looking ahead, only keeping his head bowed, smiling his cold smile to himself as he shoved them onwards.

Luna, Scrivener and Twilight were all sweating heavily by the time they finally emerged from the narrow canyon and the shroud of smog, and into a lake of blood and black scum. Ancient statues stood in various states of decay and defamation throughout the swampy lake, and it was encircled on either side by strange, monolithic structures of wood and melted stone. On one side, the structures formed a massive wall with enormous, open windows along the top like dozens of staring, vacant eyes, the structure either a barracks or a temple or perhaps the seat of some powerful demon lord; on the other side of the lake, huts and broken homes and crumbled towers formed a desolate village of the damned.

Charon glanced towards this, saying softly: “There is no escape from here. There is no end to this nightmare. And those craven cowards who chose to live their lawless lives, desperate for pleasure and power, must now forever go without knowing ecstasy or strength. They live here, eternal bottom-feeders, gutted swine who dine upon only sawdust and rotten corpses...”

They passed onwards, towards an entrance to a river blocked by a massive, spiked gate, tall, quadrupedal monsters standing on warped wooden docks on either side of this. Their lower bodies were that of fours... but these extended into an upper, powerful body of a minotaur, javelins on the back of one and the other carrying a bow. They were both harnessed in chains that seemed melted into their backs and arms, as did the awful, spiked helms that rested over their heads, and from the harnesses extended more chains that fed back into the gates.

Charon smiled as he stood up straight and waved his oar back and forth slowly and fearlessly to these creatures, calling calmly: “Open the way, centaurs; I bring lost sheep to be counted and judged by King Minos.”

The monsters looked for a moment at him, then both silently turned and slowly began to stride along the docks, the chains pulling taut as they flexed and struggled to yank the massive gates open. With a rumble, the metal barrier slowly began to part, and Charon calmly began to row into the gap that formed, Luna and Scrivener both looking back and forth with winces: they realized that the gates were not so much gates as they were a pair of massive pistons... pistons that just had to be spiked as well, and were loudly grinding and clanking on either side of them as the centaurs struggled against whatever foul mechanism kept the heavy barrier closed.

Almost the moment they passed through, the piston-gates slammed loudly shut behind them, rocking the boat as the bloody river splashed softly around them. Twilight cursed weakly as she looked up, and then her eyes widened in shock: the seemingly-endless river stretched onwards here, twisting back and forth like a massive crimson serpent through marshlands and fields filled with massive and terrible structures, a gargantuan castle visible in the distance and monolithic but crumbling statues looking out of cliffs and sinking slowly into the mire and blood and magma...

Another hour passed as they traveled onwards, ghostly spirits occasionally flitting by now, and demons and monsters peering at them from behind rocks. As they had passed near to a cavern in a cliff wall, several snarling heads had extended out, terrible, gaunt reptilian features glaring and hissing at them: a hydra, thankfully just out of reach on the far side of the river.

Finally, Charon turned off the wider bloody river, diverting away from the awful castle in the distance to instead turn down a narrow side river of dark ichors. They had sailed along this as Pinkamena had leaned over the side, then swept her hoof into the muck before bringing it up to sniff, and then lick slowly at Scrivener had shivered, before she whispered: “Liquid nightmares. I think you should reach in, Scrivy. You'd love it.”

“Shut up.” Scrivener muttered, closing his eyes. Twilight was still seated in front of him, and Luna had moved back to the bench seat just across from him, giving him a nervous glance. Odin, meanwhile, was simply silently leaning on his walking stick, moodily gazing ahead as the ferry rumbled slowly down the dark stream, tilting a bit as they hit a gentle slope downwards.

It eventually narrowed to a murky creek that passed between mounds of mud and enormous but alien trees that were covered in flesh as well as black bark. Scrivener tried to keep his eyes off this, shivering and almost recognizing them as they made their way through the bleak, poisonous forest, past enormous, rotten columns that stood here and there, and more staring statues: he hated those most of all. Seeing them, the decaying architecture, the ghostly statues... it was like seeing hints that once, this hell had been civilized. Had been ordered and structured before it had fallen in disrepair and chaos and destruction... it made him wonder if all worlds eventually fell from their attempt at civilization to barbarianism and decadent decay.

The ponies all glanced up as they turned down another narrow stream and began to approach the dark maw of a cavern, in a cliff that dripped with mud and slime and what Scrivener guessed was probably blood. They passed between trees that smoldered and burned quietly, and even as poisonous steam vented up from the creek in front of them, none of them flinched now. Just like they had even become all too used to the toxic, oppressive heat...

But as they rowed into the cavern maw, the heat began to lessen... and moments later, there was a blast of cold air before they passed through the other side of the tunnel and into an icy, frozen world. Scrivener gazed up in shock as Luna looked back and forth in incredulity, and Twilight slowly rose her head as Pinkamena whispered: “There's no place like home.”

Charon was calmly rowing them down a blue river between desolate walls of ice and stone, passing through a narrow canyon as Scrivener looked over his shoulder in shock that only grew greater when he saw the tunnel they had passed out of was now only a gaping, shallow cut in the ice. He stared at this, then looked ahead to Odin, asking finally: “What happened? How...”

“Niflheim and Hades have always shared a connection... one netherworld, linked to another darker Hell.” Odin murmured quietly, smiling wryly as he looked down meditatively. “Every world connects, if you know where to look for a door... and remember that sometimes, we have different names for the same thing.

“Muspellheim, as I am sure you have heard, cannot be recorded on a map. Moves, like a flickering flame, but can always be reached through Niflheim if you just keep traveling to the south... the only unknown is when you will find yourself passing into that world of fire and pain, which is why the Nibelung never march due south unless absolutely necessary.” Odin closed his eyes with a quiet chuckle. “And Hades, well... was that not a world of fire and pain and alien unknowns?”

“Muspell... Muspell is Hades? Why did thou never share this with us before?” Luna asked sharply, glaring over her shoulder at Odin as Scrivener looked dumbly up. “Meddling old fool, so thou art saying-”

“Because all it is, is interesting trivia.” Odin shook his head slowly, glancing up at Luna, but looking apologetic all the same even s he continued: “Muspell or Hades or Hell or Abaddon, call it what you will. It's a place of fire and pain and suffering that burns all around the edges of the frozen otherworld we're in now. It's a place where other gods condemned the wretched... and where awful things spawned amidst the fire and the brimstone, like the Fire Giant we call Surt and Hades knows by a different name and title.”

Luna grumbled a little and dropped her head moodily, then she shivered a bit, feeling the temperature changing quickly from too hot to too cold as they passed down the blue river and out of the canyon. Desolate tundra lay to either side as far as the eye could see, lonely and broken... and above, clouds like fog breathed slowly past the rocky, icy ceiling, as the winged unicorn murmured: “This brings back... terrible memories.”

Odin nodded slowly, looking down with a soft sigh, and they were silent as they continued forwards. Pinkamena was grinning widely, but far more alert, her eyes sharply glancing back and forth at every moving shadow, every glimmer of the ice and shift of the snow. Twilight, meanwhile, was staring all around them almost lethargically slowly... but it seemed as if the loneliness, the desolation, was making her feel almost scared as the visible torments they had witnessed in Hades.

After only twenty minutes, Charon finally drew to a thinly-frozen pond, the black prow of the ferry cracking and ripping through the ice before it ground into a solid bank of frost. Charon gestured to them with one hand, saying softly as he rested on his oar: “This is as far as I shall take you, as was our deal.”

Odin stood up, carefully testing the ice with his cane before he stepped over the side of the ferry, while Pinkamena simply hopped out and then shivered once, pressing her hooves firmly down against the frost as her body flexed against the banded armor around her. “Yeah. Yeah, feels... like home.”

Scrivener, Luna, and Twilight piled out, and the group gathered together before Charon calmly pushed himself backwards, giving them a contemptible look as he said distastefully: “May you all find the end of your journey with haste.”

Luna responded to this by grumbling, sweeping up some snow, and flinging it at the creature, hitting him in the face and making him wince as she retorted: “And may we never cross paths again, coward!”

Charon looked at her with disgust, mandibles clicking loudly, and Luna snorted challengingly, pawing her hoof at the ground as she glared after the creature as the ferry slowly drew back down the way it had come. Odin watched moodily as well, and then he finally sighed, turning around and saying quietly: “Come, we shouldn't waste too much time here. We don't want to be spotted, nor followed into Valthrudnir's manse.”

Luna grunted, then she blew a loud raspberry at Charon before turning around as Twilight smiled despite herself, and the ponies followed slowly after the once god as Odin calmly led them away from the pool and across the icy expanses, his eye roving back and forth meditatively. “Now we just need to find the marker... unlike most Jötnar or gods, Valthrudnir left the entrance to his home right out in the open, likely figuring this vast expanse was enough security... or even more likely, too arrogant to imagine that anyone would dare attack him.”

“Is it an obelisk? And how did thou find it in the first place?” Luna asked curiously, stepping up beside Odin with a frown. “Great blithering idiot, how long did thou wander freely around Niflheim, when just a husk of thy former strength and self? A pack of Hellhounds would have mauled thee to pieces!”

“Luna, I am very capable of taking care of myself even now, and even back then I was still strong enough to handle the barbarians of Niflheim. True demons would have been much more difficult to deal with, but primal demons like Hellhounds would not have been nearly as great a threat.” Odin paused, then rubbed absently at his chest as he looked back and forth before he continued: “Besides, I have learned much about being in the role of hunted as well as hunter... there, this way.”

Odin turned slightly, and Scrivener looked lamely back and forth as Twilight asked awkwardly: “How... how do you know? It all looks the same... rocks and snow and... emptiness.”

“You're spending too much time, searching for details and landmarks... let your eyes simply drink in your surroundings, and the differences will naturally rise to the surface of what you see.” Odin replied calmly, then he pointed ahead. “There it is. I found it here after only a week of hunting, not long after I had searched the western reaches. I was using a compass to locate it, though, so I suppose it's not entirely impressive.”

Luna grunted, nodding after moment as they made their way silently forwards for a few minutes, before Pinkamena almost whispered: “Ooh. No wonder you were able to sniff it out... it reeks of energy...”

“As I said... Valthrudnir was arrogant.” Odin shook his head slowly as they approached the obelisk: it was anchored in a square of frost-cracked cement. It was squat and ugly, a black triangular prism of stone inscribed with red runes, and the once-god spun his cane once at his side before firmly striking it, electricity jolting down the walking stick and over the obelisk as he muttered: “He didn't even feel the need to protect it.”

The obelisk rumbled violently, and then crackled with lightning before it glowed brightly... and as Twilight, Scrivener, and Luna watched with amazement and Pinkamena only grinned, eyes glowing as reality in front of them ripped apart in a violent vortex before becoming a pale blue, translucent wall that formed a window into what looked like some kind of immense cavern beyond. And without hesitation, Odin strode towards this, saying calmly over his shoulder: “Come friends, it will not stay open long.”

He stepped through the wall with all the casualness of striding into a doorway, and Pinkamena laughed before she followed, calling cheerfully: “Come on, come on, now the fun's really going to get started!”

She hopped through as well, joining Odin on the other side... and Luna traded a shrug with Scrivener and Twilight before the sapphire mare hurried forwards, and Scrivener and Twilight followed quickly, passing through the window into another realm. It felt like stepping through wet, cold mist, and Scrivener grimaced as he stepped into the world beyond the portal before he flinched when there was a crackle behind him, and the blue rip in reality vanished from sight, leaving only a solid, black rock wall.

Dark stone walls surrounded them on every side, and heavy stalactites of ice hung from the solid roof of rock high above. It was like standing in some terrible, enormous cavern-womb, the only light coming from enormous lanterns that contained ever-burning spheres of blue and white flame, dangling on heavy iron chains.

They were standing on a high slope that overlooked a hedge maze speckled with frost... and beyond this, they could see an enormous mansion, made of pristine white stone and with a red, tiled roof. It looked as perfect and undamaged as the day it had been built, from its picturesque windows to the single tall balcony stretching out of the red roof of the building... but Scrivener only grimaced in distaste. There wasn't much to gaze out at in this miniature kingdom... rock, and the hedge maze, and the frozen yard in front of the perfect manse...

“I long ago disabled the traps and defenses. We should have little problem getting to the mansion.” Odin said quietly, and then the once-god strode slowly down the hillside, the ponies following him to the open, mockingly-inviting iron gates that marked the entrance of the hedge maze. “Twilight, Brynhild, you may fly over or stay with the group, whichever you prefer.”

“And we have to walk through the maze?” Scrivener asked dryly, looking up with a grimace. “I guess I should go back up the hill and take another look at the top of it...”

“Screw that. We'll just cut our way through.” Pinkamena grumbled, reaching up and touching her axe as she glared at the frost-covered hedges. “Should have made his stupid maze out of rock and metal.”

“We'll go through, in a manner of speaking, yes.” Odin said calmly, and then he simply flicked his cane firmly, and there was a loud rumble of thunder as the air in front of the once god trembled and a straight, narrow path was carved through the hedges as leaves and speckles of frost floated slowly to the ground, Odin wincing and grasping at his chest, but smiling all the same as leaned for a moment on his cane. “That should work.”

Luna was gaping and Twilight stared in amazement, and then Pinkamena grinned widely up at the falcon-headed entity, saying positively: “You know what? You ain't so bad, old-timer. Just stay the hell out of my way when things get messy and you and I are gonna get along fine.”

“Sleipnir will be glad to hear it.” Odin said wryly, and then he started towards the manse, calling over his shoulder. “Come, friends. These hedges will grow back much faster than I'd like, and I do not desire to exert any more strength than I must.”

Luna stared for a moment longer, and then she simply shook her head and snorted in amusement, Scrivener and Twilight smiling and following after the winged unicorn with the demon cheerfully striding along last, walking towards Valthrudnir's lair in the wake of the calmly-confident once-god.

Comments

[Icthelight]

they were assembly as well
Alright. I'm back =)

[Koekelbag]

Slip-ups:

“Very well.” The scorpion's mandibles clicked rapidly, and then it made a strange half-bow to them as slipped the bag of coins to one of its lower limbs.

As he/she/the creature (does Charon even have a gender?) slipped the bag...

Twilight steadied herself, and then she nodded to Scrivener, closing her eyes for a moment before starting slowly forwards, trembling little.

Trembling a little. (helpful double space is helpful)

chains hanging from these and attaching into manacles that them their hands locked in front of them,

"That locked their hands in front of them,"?

He stepped through the wall with a ll the casualness of striding into a doorway,

I... don't even... ehrm... what? Could you rephrase this for me? Or is it just "with all the casualness"?
I honestly have no other explanation for that "ll"...

Also (and this might be a stupid question), why didn't Scrivener&Co use the Bifröst to travel to Niflheim, but took the ferry instead? I know they use it to travel from Midgard to Asgard (and to the other mirror-worlds) and I assumed they would use it as well to travel to the manse... But no-one even mentioned the rainbow-bridge once in this chapter, so...

[BlackRoseRaven]

5352420

Yes, that's supposed to be "all." It's a weird sentence structure still, admittedly, but it's technically correct. It's just. A weird sentence. And Charon is technically male, since depending on the legend he really is just a humble boatman.
I'm not good at sticking to text, though.
But I had a really good reason for the Niflheim thing, and I completely forget what it is. I think it's because the Bifrost attracts too much unwarranted attention, and it's mainly used in this series for travel between different layers of Midgard, instead of traveling between worlds. The layers of Midgard are much "closer," so to speak, so it takes far less energy to use the Bifrost to jump between them, while smaller but more powerful portals are used for jumps between "physical" worlds and the worlds that are placed "above" and "below" the layers.