Sweiza lets out a groan. Her eyes open. She looks up and she sees herself in a back alleyway. She jumps to her feet right away; her sword is at the ready. Her eyes dart around. All she sees are trashcans and doors. It looks like an alley… of brick? She’s heard of these, but they’re only found in Valhalla. Surprise and then realization hits her. She whisks the sword (and herself) around in the other direction. There are people walking by the entrance to the alley. She realizes she is in a city—she thinks to herself that she is so stupid for not realizing it sooner. She gradually makes her way to the entrance, albeit cautiously. She suddenly sees a massive obelisk standing in the center of a massive city. Her eyes follow the obelisk up. She sees a familiar pyramid atop it; but it looks new and shiny.

“What the Muspell?” Her hands go down to her hips as she starts staring at all of the buildings around her. Most of them are made of stone—different colors of grey, light blue, but most made of a tan color—she reckons they must be granite. What gets her attention is all of the canals, bridges and then plants everywhere.

Her eyes shift to the inhabitants. They have dark skin as is expected from most Muspellians. She notes some have pointed ears, so some are of elven lineage. She does a double take when she sees a tiger walking upright like a human.

“Tigerfelk?” is what she thinks to herself.

“Watch it!”

Sweiza has backed into somebody who shouts at her. She promptly bows repeatedly and apologizes and the stranger hurries on his way. She realizes she is very much out of place with her gawking.

Wait… wasn’t she sent here because of Salmira?

She looks up at the obelisk again; she shields her eyes while straining them against the sun. The silver orb was supposed to be her mark. Can it be that simple as approaching? Shouldn’t there be a treas… wait!

Sweiza’s eyes widen. The top of that obelisk is the same as the pyramid. That’s not possible; most of where the city should be is sand. What gives? She ponders this for a moment.

“Time travel?” She mouths the words without saying them. She looks down from the obelisk and sees Salmira standing some feet from her. The witch motions for her to come closer.

As Sweiza approaches the witch, she is not surprised (nor impressed) by the people that are suddenly frozen—this is something Sweiza has come to expect.

Sweiza stops just shy of Salmira by several feet. Salmira’s arms are crossed. “Magnificent isn’t it?”

Sweiza’s expression changes to a frown of distrust; her hands go to her hips and she tilts her head in anger, “What now?”

Salmira’s eyebrows shoot up. “My, my. You’ve become lively suddenly. I gather you are filled with spirit and determination?”

Sweiza’s hands cross on instinct and her teeth grit behind her mouth. She snaps herself out of it realizing she is going back to old habits she is trying to break. She has to resist the urge to stick her tongue out in defiance.

“You’ve caused me so much trouble. Can’t you send someone else?”

Salmira cocks a smile with her head titled and shaking. Her hand comes up to massage her forehead; her glasses come off and she flicks them and they disappear. When her eyes open she looks quite serious.

“I see you are feeling quite impatient, so to keep a long story short: This is the capital of Vecna, you are in the Darius province—Darius had plans to ally with Dawez, along with building a satellite city there. This city and region was the most powerful and influential in this area until the disaster struck.”

Sweiza’s ears shoot back and one of her left eye closes as her head turns away from Salmira. Her open eye darts up to the witch. “Let me guess: I’m tasked with stopping this impending ‘disaster’?”

Salmira’s head rocks back and forth. Her arms cross and her left fingers wrap in slow rhythm on her arm, “Not quite. The disaster needs to happen. Your initial suspicion about this area is correct—you have been sent back in time and this area does indeed get buried in sand.”

“No way!” Sweiza is in surprise at this point.

Salmira nods as she looks back towards the tower.

“That tower is an obsidian obelisk, quite a large one due to the Muspell climate. Those fools hollowed it out and built over it in their own image.”

“What happened, the same thing as Myrkvellir?”

Salmira’s glasses reappear in her left hand and are back on her face, “Not quite. The obelisk was still functional, but its capacity greatly diminished. By the time they tried to learn the obelisks secrets, the damage had been done and they could not stop the encroaching desert from hitting most of the continent. A few inches of sand each year just here and there mind you; but as the decades and then centuries passed, this turned into dozens of miles at a time. When they finally did learn the obelisks’s secrets, it was sabotaged and well, you know the end result.”

Salmira eyes Sweiza with intent.

Sweiza gawks at the obelisk again. She looks towards Salmira. “Cult of Loki again?”

Salmira nods. “Somewhat. They are a splintered group right now with different ideas about how the world should work. Some of them do later become founders. But that isn’t important. What’s done is done. You’re here to find a dragon’s greed and the secret of that obelisk.”

Sweiza refrains from eying the obelisk one last time as she starts walking towards it. She stops just past Salmira. “Well, come on, let’s go. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can leave the desert heat… well, later I mean. Stop staring!”

Sweiza trudges off again without giving Salmira a second thought.

Right now it is a temperate seventy degrees out—all because of the weather control device that is the obelisk. Salmira knows full well Sweiza is referring to the future. She also knows the girl wants her company this one time. The joys of being a goddess to people in the third dimension.

Salmira disappears from her location and appears beside Sweiza, both now walking at speed.

The citizens of Vecna start to move again, albeit slowly at first, and they then speed up to full speed.

—

They walk for a time without saying anything—by now Sweiza is content to remain quite. Salmira acts weird, simply stopping and looking ahead everytime Sweiza stops. The girl looks back behind her at the goddess. Salmira always remains ten feet behind her. Something seems off—she dismisses it—Salmira is always weird. Sweiza continues towards the obelisk. She doesn’t know why—but that is the thing she needs to investigate. However, something tugs at her senses.

She stops in front of what appears to be a fountain of sorts. But it looks weird. It has a pool of an odd amber liquid where there should be wate; but unlike water it is moving quite slow. The pool itself looks normal, but then there is glass at the center—it is shaped weird. Sweiza has to stop and ponder about it for a bit—ah! An hourglass! But why is that orange liquid in…

She approaches it. She leans in on it. It’s…

…honey!

But why?

Sweiza turns back at Salmira. Sweiza motions with her thumb behind her back at the fountain.

“It’s a sign of their prosperity. Honey is one of their largest exports and it has made them quite wealthy. In their arrogance they sell that honey in hourglasses to prove they beat the sands of time.”

Sweiza’s head tilts in her typical fashion, “Sands of time?”

“The weather control device prevents the desert sands of Muspell from encroaching. The locals of Vecna call it the sands of time.”

Sweiza’s eyes close and she shakes her head.

“How good is this honey?”

Salmira’s eyebrow twitches, “It could use a little sugar.”

Sweiza cocks an odd look at the goddess. Something isn’t right here.

Salmira seems unphased and waves her hand to usher the girl forward. However, Sweiza chooses to push her luck on the matter.

“Is there anyway to buy this honey?”

“There is a merchant stall twenty feet to the right of the fountain. It usually costs 2 marks. I would buy three as a souvenir for your friends.”

Sweiza has to stop and think about this for a minute. One for herself, one for Sprite, one for Strife, and one for… Surt?

“The dragon will likely find it a savory taste, but meager for filling is belly. He’s more interested in the…”

Sweiza suddenly realizes it, “…the gold color.”

“Correct. Now please hurry, the obelisk awaits.”

Sweiza’s eyes narrow at Salmira. Couldn’t she just have teleported her to the obelisk?

Whatever!

Sweiza hurries over to the stall. She is surprised at how cheap the honey is. It is absorbed into her being soon enough. The stall keepers seems to be unphased by her and goes back to staring ahead.

Sweiza scowls and waves her hands in front of him. He does absolutely nothing. She clicks her fingers in front of him. Still nothing.

“Hello?”

The man looks down at her, and then goes back to staring ahead. One of her eyes half shuts in thought—“…he didn’t say anything about the price… for that matter he didn’t say anything. What the…”

“The obelisk please.”

Sweiza turns around, mad in frustration.

“And just why are we going to the obelisk?”

“The artifact you are looking for is located there.”

Sweiza winces and cocks her head at the woman.

Salmira starts to shoo her hands at Sweiza. However, Sweiza stops.

“I’d actually like to look around a bit more.”

Salmira’s expression doesn’t change. She simply disappears and her voice fills Sweiza’s mind, “Very well. But the sands of time are encroaching, be mindful that you musn’t spend years here.”

Sweiza doesn’t share her suspicions with the stranger—and that is exactly what she is. Sweiza makes it a point not to consciously think about her realization—this person appears to be able to read her mind. She doesn’t ever remember Salmira doing that; but it is the witch’s insistence and lack of patience or her ‘fake’ patience rather, which has become a dead give away. The part about Strife’s favorite phrase is also a peculiarity.

Sweiza suddenly hears Strife’s voice in her head, “You are a terrible student sometimes Vera; it’s ever a wonder why I mentor you at all.”

Sweiza again winces. She can’t quite place her finger on it…

…it almost reminds her of what happened with their encounter with Loki.

Again Salmira’s voice enters Sweiza’s mind, “The Silver Globe acts as shield and deflects Loki’s influence.”

Sweiza suddenly mouths it in frustration, “Does the desert just engulf this city? You’re not making me steal this Silver Globe are you? Is that the city’s treasure?”

Salmira appears in front of her. Her eyes glow red. If Sweiza couldn’t tell before, then Salmira’s tone indicates anger, “You look here you little snot. You came all this way, why leave empty handed?”

Sweiza’s hands clasp behind her back, “Speaking of which, there was supposedly a treasure of some sort here… the drag… I mean Surt, said he won’t leave without it. Where is this treasure?”

Salmira motions further up the path. “Perhaps he refers to the silver bars kept within the bank.”

“No gold?”

“Gold is a high commodity material used in enchanted items; therefor silver is the main currency here.”

Sweiza starts walking to the bank, but she doesn’t enter. Instead she starts counting her footsteps as she approaches the obelisk.

“Just what do you hope to accomplish? This will not make a very good history for others.”

Is is the word history that tips Sweiza off. She again refuses to think about it for fear the person posing as Salmira would read her mind.

It is about two miles to the actual obelisk. This doesn’t bode well for Surt and he probably won’t be happy about her ‘findings’ on the matter.

Sweiza suddenly turns around. Salmira is again ten feet behind her.

Sweiza’s hands go down to her hips. “Could you tell me the history of this place?”

Sweiza puts urgency and emphasis on the word ‘history’.

Salmira disappears and again the small creature from before appears in front of her—most noticeably is the gold horn sticking out of its head.

It’s catlike eyes stare back at her.

“What did you want to know?” It asks her with some eager enthusiasm.

“How do I end this game of charades?”

It’s expression and body language change to something more solemn.

“You wish to end the history lesson?”

Sweiza nods disapproving at the creature.

“Are you absolutely sure? It has been some years since…”

“NOW!”

Sweizas bark at the creature causes it to jolt; it hangs its head towards the ground and fades.

Everything around her starts to fade to black.

—

Sweiza finds herself back in Vecna, rather she is inside the pyramid. Sweiza turns her attention to her surroundings. There are many people walking here and there. She sees what looks like some kind of animal skeleton in front of her—it looks like the skeleton of a bear or something similar. She looks up at the ceiling. She is in the main chamber—but something is different—it looks brand new without age. She looks to the walls—this time the odd futhark letters and pictures are all new.

“Wow!” Is all she can say to herself.

Her attention is all over until she bumps into something. She turns around and attempts to bow. Instead she sees the odd colored creature in front of her again.

“Is this more to your liking?” It looks up, with some attempt at acceptance on its face.

Sweiza looks down at it. “Okay, I give up, what do you want?”

“You are here to find an arti…”

Sweiza interrupts him. “You do have a name don’t you?”

“I’m Trust the Tufflet.”

Sweiza can feel frustration shooting around in her head—nothing short of ‘bonkers’ describes her situation.

She reaches down and picks him up by the scruff of his neck; her intuition is correct in that he has loose skin.

She holds him eye level and one foot from her face—her eyes narrow at him.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“We’re in Vecna, capital of Muspell?”

The Tufflet nods enthusiastically. His expression changes, “I’m glad you were enj…”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak you little shit!” Sweiza’s head leans in closer to him. He get nervous and attempts to move, but it is no avail to him. His body finally slackens in defeat and he remains silent.

“Are you a brownie?”

He looks up at her helpless. There is definite fear in his eyes.

“Are you or are you not?” She shakes him by the scruff.

He nods.

Sweiza drops him to the ground. She towers over him as she leans over him; her hands go to her hips in disapproval.

Trust’s body shrinks.

“You help me make sense of what is going on right this instance; is that clear?”

Trust suddenly stands up—he finally gets to live out his purpose.

“This is the Muspell Museum of History. It…” He freezes when Sweiza’s face changes to a frown; she leans in closer to him. She is nearly face to face with him.

“What’s your purpose here… and why is a brownie in a museum?”

“I’m the curator and mascot. I help children.”

Sweiza’s eye twitches. Trust picks up on her annoyance with him. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean that you were a child. It’s the job of museum staff to greet guests; but I’m the only one left and it’s therefor my job to…”

Sweiza interrupts him again. “Right, right. What’s this artifact I’m here for—it’s supposedly living, but not alive? My armor’s spirit said it was you?”

He goes to open his mouth, but suddenly eyes different areas around Sweiza. She looks behind herself. The people are suddenly gone. The scenery around them starts to fade.

Trust suddenly blurts out, “It won’t let me talk about it; otherwise it will trap you here like it did the armored…”

Trust suddenly fades amidst the blackness enveloping Sweiza and her mind.

—

Sweiza finds herself in front of strange glass items; some of them are connected in a strange pattern. There are different colored liquids in them. There are strange devices emitting steam around her. They remind her of a miniature locomotive. A hissing noise comes from one of them.

“There you are.”

The voice is male with a distinct harmonic note to it. The Sentinel?

Sweiza whirls around. She is about to lash out at him, but refrains from doing so—he isn’t that stupid brownie. Her arms do cross however.

“That’s understandable given our predicament.”

His armored feet clang lightly against the stone beneath them. He heads for Sweiza and reaches out his hand. She blinks one and moves out of the way. He reaches for one of the glass items that was behind her original position.

He swirls the liquid in it once. “It’s a type of acid—it can be used as fuel, but I had a different purpose in mind.”

Sweiza’s head tilts. She doesn’t have a chance to say anything before he looks over at her. “I’ve been collecting quite a bit of it over the years.” He points to several large cannisters just next to him. How hadn’t she seen this before? She looks at the liquid in them bewildered.

“I believe I’ve already introduced myself. I was originally a member of the Cult of Loki in Vanir. I defected when the war came about; I died a hero and became one of the Fallen. I am now a Sentinel by choice. However, I chose to flee from Odin’s court when I learned he started the war.”

Sweiza is about to instinctively approach, but she holds herself firm. She doesn’t know if she can trust this ‘man’, former one or whatever he is now.

“To acquire certain things from Muspell.”

Artis lumbers forward and dumps the contents of the glass tube into the larger glass canisters.

“What kind of things?”

Artis turns around and approaches her again. He towers over her easily by four feet. He has to easily be eleven feet tall by her reckoning.

“If you’re in the pyramid and I talk about it with you, you will be trapped here. I’ve had some time to test it; it seems to be a defense mechanism.”

“The minute you start talking about it, the scenery starts to fade and I’m whisked away to a different location or just outside the pyramid?”

Artis’s eyes blink once by fading and returning to their normal color. “In a manner of speaking.”

“This same thing has been happening to you? You’re trapped here?”

“Odin has or did have an interest in this pyramid. There are certain… artifacts in it that might be of use to anyone that can solve the pattern of the defense mechanism.”

Sweiza shakes her head in frustrated confusion, “Why does this defense mechanism exist?”

Artis looks up at the ceiling and then to Sweiza, “To prevent you from getting to the top floor.”

Sweiza’s eyes narrow at the ceiling and then to Artis, “What’s at the top floor?”

“What do you think?”

On cue, Artis starts to fade and then the scenery around her turns black again.

—

Outside of the pyramid, Sweiza lets out a yawn and her arms instinctively stretch; her back pulls and then she feels her legs stretch in unison. Her eyes open and she sees Sprite staring down at her. It is night with the stars out. One of the moons casts an eerie glow behind him—it looks spooky to her, but she is used to it. She can hear slow, but heavy breathing behind her—her assumption is correct, she is still leaning against him.

“Something’s communicating to us through dreams?” Sprite slowly bobs up and down as he asks. He suddenly darts in front of Sweiza’s face.

Sweiza nods. “Apparently. What kind of dreams have you been having?”

“Adventures with you. But I figured it out, that person isn’t really you—she gives me sweet things to my wildest pleasure. You never do that. You always want me to do something for you.”

Sweiza’s hand reaches up to pat him on the head. “You’re a good friend.”

Sprite’s eyes narrow momentarily. “I’m hungry!”

Sweiza looks up at him once. She blinks. She wonders. She holds up her hand to him. He stares at her hand inquisitively. An hourglass with an amber liquid inside appears.

“Take it. You deserve it. I’m sure I can find something for you to do later.”

Sprite stops to think about it for a second, but shrugs. He flies up to the hourglass, latches onto it and flies to the ground with it. To Sweiza’s surprise he gently sets it on the ground.

“You’re very kind to your friends.”

She realizes it isn’t him.

She suddenly passes through Surt’s leg and her head and body drop to sand. Sprite flies just above her, but starts to fade. She looks over to see Surt also fading. The scenery soon follows suite.

—

When Sweiza opens her eyes, she is back at the town square in Vecna. She looks around, but does not see Salmira anywhere. Her attention is caught immediately by the market place. She loves places like this. She can’t help herself and like a giddy child she starts beating the footpath and attempts to make it look like she isn’t window shopping—when in fact she is.

After about an hour or two she is satisfied with what she sees. Mostly common goods—food, jewelry, tools, necessary stuff, etc.—but she realizes she is being distracted. She wonders about it. She starts for the exit of the town square and starts walking towards the obelisk tower.

A random shop keeper stops by her. “Have you checked out the cheese chamber that is below the city?”

“The wha-?”

“There is a giant chamber that sells different types of cheeses. It is several hundred stairs below the ground so it is kept cold year round.”

Sweiza’s head tilts and her mouth pulls to the side.

“I can sell you a pass to get there.”

Sweiza shakes her head and pushes him aside. She knows the ‘thing’ is doing it.

She continues towards the tower. It takes her about half an hour to push her way through the crowds of people that block her way. She finally arrives at a well of stairs. There are several flights of them—they lead to the base of the obelisk.

About a quarter of the way up the stairs, she turns around.

She freezes at the sight before her—a magnificent city, but unlike anything she has ever seen before.

She couldn’t see it due to the buildings, but there are many plants—especially vines—hanging off buildings just beyond those that cover the street. The buildings are staggered with many of these plant gardens; there are also many terraces jutting out from said buildings. There are many large structures that look like a four sided pyramid with the top sawed off. The buildings are an otherwise bright tan; the same as the pyramid itself—it must have been the chief material used here. She wishes she knew what it was. To set things apart from the city, there are many tapestries and what she assumes is paint (something very expensive in Maria) covering the underside of terraces, tops of buildings and then sometimes adorning buildings in a colorful pattern. The gold that lines the tops of many buildings is what gets her attention. Didn’t Salmira say the gold is used as a transmitter of sorts?

The blue, yellow, orange and red patterns are all over the city. Some of them are even painted on the bricks of the footpath. This all looks seems very familiar to her.

Didn’t the villagers (of Maria) tell tales of a city in Muspell that was swalled up by sand? The rumor was that the population of that city turned their back on the gods and embraced technology instead; as punishment the fertility was stripped from the land and the city was buried in sand with…

“…a pyramid to mark the area and serve as a warning to outsiders…” Her arms cross in thought. This might be that city. Salmira said there was a weather control device at the top of the obelisk. Is this what Odin wanted? Did Artis come here for that item? He seems to be a scientist of sorts. But then what about Trust? Where does he come in?

She looks away from the city and down to her left. She turns around and is about to step up the footpath when she freezes. She lets out an ‘eep’ when she sees Demi standing before her.

“Are you really Demi, or are you another illusion?” She looks up and past him at the base of the obelisk and then to Demi again.

Demi’s hands come up as he shrugs, “I don’t know what it is, but I keep hearing this voice; it keeps sending out commands for cloudcover in certain patterns and portions of the sky with a strong headwind. There is supposed to be rain, but it doesn’t come—the rain seems very important for this area, the ground needs it. However, the rain does not come and the ground seems to be robbed of fertility. For some reason I get the feeling that this voice and the weather are very important to this area. Perhaps they did not pray to the Goddess of Fertility as they are supposed to?”

“Demi?” Sweiza is curious at him; he seems to be bewildered as he looks around at the city. His attention is primarily on the sky. Sweiza snaps her fingers in front of him, but he doesn’t respond.

“DEMI!” Her shout finally gets through to him.

He blinks at her once. “It seems to be able to communicate through dreams. I get this strange feeling like I can feel the dreams of others, but quite faintly like an echo in the distance. I’m not certain as to why.”

“Can it share dreams maybe?” Sweiza’s arms cross at him. She quickly unfolds them realizing her bad habit.

“Perhaps. But it seems to be broken or something is preventing it from working right. Maybe it is asking you to fix it for some reason?”

Demi suddenly starts to fade.

Sweiza can’t believe this.

The scenery around her starts to fade again.

—

Sweiza finds herself in an a long corridor—torches line the walls. There are more of those strange futhark patterns along with pictures along the wall—the futhark glows with a brilliant light bleu hue. On either side of the corridor are racks lines with… cheese?

In less caution, but more of curioisity—Sweiza walks up to one of the racks and eyes the multitude of round cheeses once. She takes a sniff of it. She soon regrets it as her eyes water and she almost gags; she takes several steps back while pinching her nose and closing her eyes tightly—her head turns away in disgust.

“Ewe!—Gross!” Sweiza takes several more steps back from the cheese for good measure.

She turns around to hopefully find a wheel of cheese that is better in smell; it might be edible. However, just as she turns around, Trust appears to her.

“What do you think of the ‘Chamber of Cheese’?” His highpitched voice is low, but still remains at a pitch—his words seem to echo with the light and shadow of the flickering torches.

Sweiza’s hand comes down from her nose and her hands come down to her hips.

“You seem to know a lot about Vecna…” She knows she isn’t getting out of this, but she also shows her agitation.

Trust turns around and crosses his arms. His head turns back slightly with one eye closed. “You could say that.”

“Oh no, I’m not bartering with you. Absolutely not!” Sweiza leans forward at him and then walks off.

“Wait! I can help!” He chases after her.

The scenery begins to fade again.

—

Time and time again Sweiza finds herself moving between her friends, the capital of Vecna (in the past), and the dilapidated interior of the pyramid (in the future). Different areas of teleported between her friends, the capital of Vecna in the past, and then the dilapidated interior of the pyramid in the future. She curses her luck that she didn’t start counting right away the number of scenarios. By now she has figured out it is some kind of test—and indeed it is.

She is teleported to different seasons, talks with different locals in the market place and learns of the history of Vecna. She sees as time goes on that they are afraid of the encroaching sand—but they do not know why it is coming closer. There are rumors it is the doing of ‘Odin’ from the neighboring continent of Midgard. They cannot believe such folly though; Odin is a minor power in this region, it is the giants and especially the fire giant ‘Surt’ that they must worry about.

Artis appears sparingly, mostly to talk about the artifact indirectly—she has pieced together (through him) that the “Silver Globe” is an enchanted artifact with any number of known and unknown abilities.

Trust appears to help, but Sweiza continually rebuffs him. He manages to stuff information into her—despite her rebuttals. She slowly—keywords being slowly—learns to accept that he is just trying to do his job as the museum mascot and guide; but it doesn’t mean she likes him anymore for it.

After just some three hundred scenarios (she counted two hundred and fifty-three) she has gained some valuable experience in dealing with the unknown—her initial trepidation is gone and she has fully explored most of Vecna.

At the final scenario just as the scenery begins to fade, Sweiza’s armor appears and she clicks her heels together. Determination crosses her face and she summons her sword with her left hand. This time she’s ready…

—

Sweiza finds herself at the base of the obelisk once again. It is covered in the familiar futhark letters and pictures carved into the stone. She is roused from looking at them by the large stone doors of the obelisk—they open with a loud shuddering groan. She nods her head once and braces herself in determination and takes one step forward. Nothing happens. Unimpressed she swings her head and carries her sword behind her as she charges the doors.

Once inside she sees a large room. It has no people in it. Rather there is a strange language up on the wall. Parts of it look like the Muspell language mixed with futhark. There are more pictures up on the wall—but to her amazement, some of them are moving. Is the device capable of projecting dreams into a picture or a painting? Marvelous!

She stiffens herself up and rouses her focus as she clicks her heals together. Determination in the form of a frown and gritted teeth. She looks for anything that might lead to the next floor. Distracted by everything else, she finally sees just offset from the center of the room is a pair of stairs. She charges up.

Inside the next story she sees something similar. However, the theme of the room has changed. The pictures on the wall and the moving pictures are those of plants. She recalls that the pyramid is a museum; could the obelisk also be a museum? Recalling some of her problems with being tested in different scenarios—she ignores the distractions on the second floor and looks for the stairs. As before, they are offset from the center of the room. The next floor has another change in theme; this time on animals. She is starting to get the idea—each floor has something different and the stairs will be just offset from the center.

By the tenth floor she starts to get tired. She wills her armor back into her being and has her normal attire on. The extra weight and restrictions of the armor gone, she feels a little better. Her running slowly turns to power walking as she moves up several more flights of stairs; the different exhibits become a blur as she no longer pays attention to them. By the twentieth floor she leans up against a wall while panting heavily. Her breathing is heavy and her lungs burn; she decides to take it easy and take her time walking up the remaining flights of stairs.

Running was easy; it took roughly thirty seconds to cross each room. She made it to the tenth floor in under seven minutes. It took another ten to get to the twentieth floor. However, to get to the thirtieth and final floor took almost fifteen—multiple breaks became inbound and she stopped to look around frequently at the exhibits. The museum is of typical Muspell culture and heritage, or so she gathers. One thought had occurred to her through all of this—the rooms are smaller than the base of the obelisk, so she figures there are other rooms, perhaps not open to the public. It would make sense if this tower is a control structure for the weather.

Another thought occurs to her—is the Silver Globe responsible for the weather?

She wonders about it once, but comes back to reality as she looks around the room. There are no doors anywhere, and the only thing present are carvings of futhark in the wall. This time there are no images. In fact, there seems to be a light in the room akin to torchlight illuminating the walls—the light flickers, but there is no source of the light. Is it an illusion? Maybe?

She looks around the head again and tilts her head.

“Trust!” She waits tapping her foot.

It takes a few seconds, but he appears in front of her with his hands clasped together in front of him. He seems to be full of enthusiasm. However, unlike his usual demeanor he waits patiently. Sweiza’s eyebrows shootup.

“I’ve got you trained well.”

He nods once and continues to refrain from saying anything. However, he is clearly growing impatient.

“Where is it?” Her voice is full of contempt, but also disappointment.

“It’s above us in a separate room. You have to stand in the center of this room to teleport there.”

Sweiza’s eyebrows shoot up again at him. Her face is full of disbelief—but she clearly believes him. At the center of the room she waits for something to happen—but nothing. Her hands come out in frustration. She turns around at Trust and her hands go down to her hips. She cocks her head at him.

“Give it a moment.”

She doesn’t have long to twist her face as something pulls her into the air. She levitates just a few feet before the room is bathed in a white light—everything awash with it and then disappeareing.

—

The white light slowly fades and reveals where she is. There are multiple windows from the floor that are arranged in the form of triangles—they slowly steeple up to a point in the center of the room. She thought they were at the top of the pyramid; how are their windows here? She doesn’t have time to wonder about it as the object in the center of the room gets her attention. The “Silver Orb” that everyone speaks of is in fact white, but it somehow reflects the scenery with a backdrop of silver to it. It is a strange thing that with two rings that are rotating and spinning around it as their center. The rings themselves are white and appear to have triangular jewels embedded across their surface. To Sweiza they appear to be very expensive bracelets with diamonds and triangular sapphires embedded in them. There is also a brilliant and opaque blue light emanating from the center of the orb; it transitions into an even darker shade of blue (and then into nothing) just at the outside of the rotating and spinning rings.

She calls for Trust, but he doesn’t appear. She tries Artis—the result is the same.

Her arms cross as she goes into thought on what to do; her foot taps in rhythmic fashion with her thoughts. She unfolds her hands in frustration and approaches the orb. She is stopped in her tracks as she knocks into something invisible some five feet from the orb.

“You may not approach further.”

The voice is harmonic and appears to come from the orb itself as it pulses a rhythmic, yet fading light blue light.

“…and why is that Mr. Orb? Do you have yet another test for me?” Sweiza scoffs as she pushes her hand against the invisible object in front of her; it appears to be a wall of sorts. She starts feeling her way around it. No matter how she tries to circle around it, it appears to always be flat; yet it appears to circle around the orb. Strange and stranger to her.

“You are not worthy.” It pulses once again with a light blue light.

Sweiza winces at it. “Are you stupid? I did all of that for nothing!”

The orb makes an odd buzzing noise. “You passed. However, you are not worthy—you may not approach further.

“Was there a point to all of this?” Her hands go to her hips again. The things she would do to this thing if she had a hammer.

“I scanned your mind and being. Can you confirm that you are both Valkyrie and a descendant from Vecna?”

“I’m a Valkyrie… in training. I’ve never heard of Vecna until now; I mean, unless you count the legends of the city being swallowed by sand.”

The orb pulses a blue light again, “Do you confirm you have Muspell blood?”

Sweiza frowns at the thing. “Supposedly. What do you want?”

“Can you confirm that you have five Bothnin Lightning Crystals—four of which are still fully functional?”

Having had enough Sweiza finally yells, “What do you want?”

The orb makes the same odd buzzing noise, but this time much louder—when the noise subsides, it speaks in the familiar harmonic voice, “Did you reactivate the monument in Myrkvellir?”

“So what if I did? What does it matter to you?” Sweiza continues her stand off. However, from times and lessons past she avoid stamping her foot. She doesn’t know what this thing is capable of and if it is malevolent or not.

“Are you attempting to repair the monuments?” It pulses another blue light as it speaks.

“I don’t know!” Sweiza stamps her foot this time. This is beginning ti spin circles in her head—she can’t tell if she’s ready to cry or not. What is with the questions?

“Were you going to steal anything from the museum?” This time when it pulses, it isn’t light blue, but instead a ripple of red and crimson.

Sweiza’s hands go down to her hips and she lets out an indignant breath of air in frustration. She can feel her eyes watering up.

“Why have you come here?” It pulses a light blue light again.

Sweiza starts to shake. Her armor appears and she summons her sword. In one motion she steps forward (as taught by Strife) and swings her sword at the invisible barrier in front of her. The wall lets out an odd hum as there is a ripple effect of different triangular shapes that shine blue—the effect isn’t unlike a stone being skipped across water. The girl’s sword bounces back. She stares at it in surprise. She swings at it again.

“You need to stop.” The orb radiates a red light; it ripples and reverberates, but does not fade.

Sweiza ignores the warning and swings at the barrier again. The orb attempts to speak again, but this time she ignores it. Her eyes water up as her fury takes over and she swings her sword repeatedly at it. After some twenty-three seconds, the barrier in front of her shatters not unlike glass—with a sound not dissimilar of the same.

As if finally seeing her prize, runs up to the orb and pushes her sword just outside of its rings. The mention of “Bothnin Lightning Crystals” and repairing monuments is all she needs to know; this thing is electric and might just shock her.

“I am at your mercy.” This time it pulses a white light across the already radiating blue light.

“Tell me what is going on here—now!” She winces in anger at it. This wasn’t her plan, but it will have to do. She feels she has nothing to lose at this point—so she will take charge of the situation from here on out.

“As you wish.” It pulses a white light that radiates to the walls of the room.

The response is a surprise to Sweiza, but it is short lived as the room is soon enveloped with a white light. Sweiza is blinded by it and drops her sword. She soon feels the world around her fading into a white light. She finally feels herself losing consciousness.