Author’s Notes: The previous chapter has been renamed and split into two chapters due to length.

—-

When the white light finally subsides, Sweiza finds herself back in the same room. Nothing has changed with the exception that Artis and Trust are standing several feet from her.

Artis is quite surprised, “You succeeded!”

“You have Muspell blood?” Trust eyes the girl up and down once.

Sweiza rolls her head in confusion and then her eyes in frustration. “Would someone tell me exactly what is going on here?”

The orb in the center of the room pulses a white light and follows up with a light blue light. “I had to make sure you were not a thief like that one.”

Sweiza looks from the orb to Trust; Trust just shrugs and points at Artis. Sweiza cocks an eyebrow up at him.

“You were going to steal this thing?” Her left finger shoots up at the orb, “It seems to be quite useless.”

“In its current form it is. I assumed it was unguarded as a result. Sadly, I was sorely mistaken.” Artis looks down at the Tufflet.

“What?” Trust squawks at the Sentinel, “I didn’t do anything I wasn’t supposed to do!”

“You lead me right into that thing’s trap! I’ve been stuck in here for close to a decade because of you.”

Sweiza’s head shoots to each of them in unison; then it instinctively goes to the orb.

The orb seems to be silent while the two of them argue.

Sweiza interrupts them. “Let me guess, this little brownie ‘wanted to help’ and showed you everything in the museum?”

Artis nods once, “Except he told me about the orb; it was the artifact I was seeking. However, it was the first of many… illusions that became my imprisonment. I could no longer tell what was real and what wasn’t… that thing…” Artis points to the orb, “Imprisoned me here and used me as a power source. My soul spirit is quite weak at this point; another couple of years and I would be dead.”

Sweiza’s eyes and head roll over to the orb, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“The arrogance of Vecna lead to the city being buried in sand; they hollowed out the monument for their own designs…” The orb pulses a dark purple at those words.

Sweiza shoots Trust a look. He shrugs sheepishly at her.

“…I could no longer control the weather. People didn’t heed the warnings about the violent sandstorms. A few evacuated, most were buried in their homes—some died.”

Sweiza looks up once, “I’m guessing some of them are my ancestors as you put it? How did you know this?”

“I scanned you.”

“You wha-“ Sweiza’s head tilts and her eyes narrow. “Is this more of that compyutar crap?”

“I am a combination of science and enchantment combined.” It pulses a fuzzy white light that radiates and slowly fades.

“Whatever. You can tell me what my ancestry is? I’ve always been interested in that kind of thing.” There is some definitive enthusiasm in her voice; but she tries to remain stern with the strange device.

“In order of most prominent to least prominent bloodlines—Midgard, Muspell and Myrkvellir.

Sweiza winces, “Myrkvellir Sundae!”

Artis swings from the orb to face Sweiza; Trust suddenly stares at her shocked. Trust is the first to break the awkward silence, “Such language!”

“You look here you little shit! Behave yourself or I -will- make a Myrvellir Sundae out of you!”

Trust suddenly jolts and hides behind Artis. Artis looks down and uses his foot to push the Tufflet over. Amidst the chatter, the orb seems unphased. Sweiza definitely notices this.

Sweiza attempts to speak, “You are a type of guard aren’t…”

However, Artis interrupts her, “You have a number of abilities don’t you?”

The orb pulses a yellow light—as far as Sweiza is concerned it is too strange compared to his other pulses of light. She puts it together though—these are how it communicates mood or emotions.

“I am in fact the main control device for this area. I guard the city of Vecna; I help them relieve stress by allowing them to communicate in a peaceful dream state…”

Sweiza refrains from speaking outloud, but rather thinks to herself, “I knew it!”

“…but I must also be weary of outsiders that wish to steal Vecna’s secrets.”

“You mean yourself.” Artis’s words strike cold. His mechanical arms make a strange whirring noise as they fold and cross.

“Correct.”

“You use dreams and mind reading to guard yourself?” Sweiza tilts her head. Her guard drops almost entirely at that. They were the invaders—perhaps even that annoying brownie.

“Correct.” The orb pulses a light blue light.

“What about the brownie? I didn’t think they would normally inhabit a museum.” Sweiza thinks back to and recalls the time their house became the domain of a brownie that wanted to help out. The brownie was fine at first, but tended to make a mess of things if it wasn’t watched. Then it demanded payment in the form of food and shelter or it would start to wreck things. They had managed to get rid of it, but then it decided to ‘inhabit’ her favorite tent. She had to destroy it as a result—forcing the brownie out into the open. Many members of Maria Village did not approve of a brownie in the area and chose to cage it until it agreed to leave without incident.

With intent she eyes the brownie in front of her. He looks up at her with a curious smile. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head at him. He gets the point and loses the smile.

“He was transported to the museum through an artifact. He would jump between artifacts and exhibits trying to help out; unfortunately he often broke objects in the process and made a mess of things. They agreed to keep him alive and inhabit the museum if he agreed to behave himself. It took extensive training and resources to keep him under control.” The orb pulses a red light and lets out a buzzing noise; Trust instinctively flinches.

“I see. So if I understand all of this then, you are in a weak state and have been draining this Sentinel…” Sweiza motions towards Artis who’s eyes dim once as if to blink, “…to sustain yourself? Am I correct in assuming you want a lightning crystal to reactivate the monument?”

The orb says nothing.

Sweiza already knows the answer. Strife sent her here for a reason; so it should stand to reason that it will be the same as with the Obsidian Obelisk in Myrkvellir—or so she hopes. She's brushes her fear aside and decides to go for it. She takes in a breath and summons the insulated glove with a Bothnin Lightning Crystal in hand; it’s purple hue glows and radiates light off of her face and arm. “What do I do with it, just hold it up?”

The orb again gives no answer.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Bothnin Lightning Crystals require contact.” Artis interrupts the silence.

Sweiza looks up at him once. She looks over and down at Trust who shakes his head and shrugs with open hands. Sweiza scowls at the brownie.

Sweiza walks up to the orb—this time with no barrier interrupting her—and holds the crystal up to the orb. She sees a large spark jump as contact is made. She jumps back as her hand releases the crystal. The crystal remains attached to the orb, but is then absorbed into the orb. The orb begins to pulse with a rhythmic white and blue light. Several of the moving images that Sweiza had seen in the floors below suddenly appear in a sphere that surrounds the orb. They start to change and oscillate between different images. They flicker once and disappear.

Suddenly the windows also reveal themselves to be images that also change many times at random Sweiza feels some concern as several of the images show motion and movement before flickering to another image. A distinct and dull hum can be heard in the distance; it becomes a localized and louder whine from the orb as the rings around it start to revolve quicker. They suddenly halt as they appear flat circling the orb. A white light pulses from the orb and then begins to surround the room. The last thing Sweiza remembers is wanting to let out a scream at the giant red eye-like slit that opens up from within the orb.

—

As the white light fades, Sweiza stares off in a daze at the rising sun—her eyes take a minute to adjust. She stares up at her arm which is held up at the sun. There is a white bracelet on her wrist; there is an odd diamond style gem mounted into it. Her attention shifts to the Sentinel and brownie standing just in front of her. She is about to say something when she hears the voice of the orb speak from the brace.

“Due to your fragile states, I’ve compressed your scenarios into one night of sleep.”

Sweiza’s face twists, “Huh?”

It takes a second for it to make sense; they are out in the desert and being in a dream state in the middle of the day would probably be a bad idea. She double-thinks it for a second. They could have easily retreated into the pyramid to escape the sun—Surt is a firedrake and can easily handle the heat—supposedly.

She shakes her head back to reality and looks down at the bracelet. She is a bit miffed that jewelry was placed on her person without her consent. She dismisses it—there is probably a reason for it. Speaking of which…

“Are you a sentry like Lumina and Lumia?” She eyes the bracelet as it reflects many rays of light. She jumps when she sees the familiar (yet scary) red eyeslit from the orb appear in the embedded jewel.

“Lumia and Lumina are sentries from the old world for the Myrkvellir region.”

Sweiza’s face twists again. “That’s not what I meant; can they fix Myrkvellir?”

The red eyeslit in the embedded jewel fades. A white light jumps from it and to Sweiza. Everything around her feels as if it is

—

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Yet again, Sweiza is forced to jump at a voice. She backs up and falls over. Looking up she sees the light in the trees illuminating Lumia’s figure.

A woozy Sweiza is left to fidget and pull her bearings before she staggers to her feet. She sways from side to side as she attempts to speak.

“I didn’t come here by choice.”

“Then why are you here?” Her tone is dark and foreboding.

“That silver orb sent me here.” She holds up her wrist and points to the bracelet. She doubts Lumia knows what she is referring to. Lumia’s eyes flash blue once. The embedded gem also pulses blue. Lumia’s eyes pulse blue several times in unison with the gem before Lumia’s form starts to fade in a blue light.

Sweiza cringes at an aweful noise as the hairs on her neck stand on end. Her eyes trait towards the noise. Trees from her right slowly turn to castle wall on her left. As she gazes over she sees a gate that is lifting. It is large.

“A castle?” Sweiza’s head tilts at it. The gate is rusted with green spots on it. Moss? There are pieces of the gate missing. Dust settles under the ceiling of the entrance as the gate groans to a halt in its raised position. By now Sweiza knows she has a purpose here—she simply wouldn’t be here otherwise. Her instincts tell her to run, but she hustles her pace over to the castle.

Once inside Sweiza looks around. She jumps when the gate behind her drops shut. The metal sound explodes throughout the large courtyard. She looks around; stone buildings all over; overgrowth on them, ivy, water stains, all the makings of a haunted castle. She starts backing up when she sees the castle in the distance. It is broad daylight, but it seems to gleam a shadow across the courtyard. Ah, it’s blocking out part of the sun! She cradles her hand over her eyes just enough to block out part of the bright sun that -is- hidden by the castle. Her back hits something behind her. She whirls around and sees the gate. Was she backing up still? She whips around and looks in the courtyard again—nothing here. She’s psyching herself out. She claps her cheeks to pull herself out of it.

“Eek!” Sweiza jumps -yet- again when Lumina appears in front of her. He is wearing highly detailed armor with the the markings of a dragon’s face and dragonscales all over. He rests both of his hands on the grip of a sword with the tip buried into the ground.

“Girl, listen clearly. This area is forbidden. A terrible monster guards this area—in your current state you cannot possibly defeat it. As I am the guardian of this area, I have terminated access to outsiders.

“Then why am I here?”

Lumina lifts the sword and stabs it into the ground. “Walk with me; we don’t have time to much around in Myrkvellir.”

Those words, “We don’t have time to muck around in Myrkvellir” are all motivation that she needs. The phrase is as old as memory in Maria Village can remember. It literally means trickery or danger is afoot and foolhardy people will be swallowed up by a great calamity if they aren’t quick about it. It is a simple phrase used to alert young children (as well as lazy adults) into finishing chores and keeping the village busy for the harvest; failure to do so and they face starvation.

Sweiza marches forward towards what she assumes is the goal—something in the distance in the castle. It has to be.

Lumina’s iron greaves clack on the limestone path—the noise echoes in the distance. He looks over at her. “We have become aware of Vecna One’s presence. It has commanded us to open up Myrkvellir Castle at your discretion.”

Sweiza stares at him bewildered. “Am I going on another errand?”

“There is only one reason you would be at Myrkvellir’s Gates.”

‘Myrkvellir’s Gates’—the realization starts to set in. While it’s true that Myrkvellir is the name of the continent; it is in fact name after the mythical Myrkvellir Castle—a place rooted in mystery in legend. One a place of prosperity, their thirst for knowledge and wealth was second to none. Supposedly the king and his court double crossed a wizard; only for the wizard to attack with an army of darkness and drive everyone out of the castle. Those that didn’t evacuate fell under a terrible curse as night creatures to serve him. When the wizard died, his pet (something akin to a dragon) took control of the area.

She doesn’t believe the legend of course; only that it is where the term “Myrkvellir Sundae” (or Myrvkellir Sunday) comes from—a term that means ‘shitshow-esque shitshow’; as well why the continent is so-named.

“There are evil spirits here?” Sweiza stares at him quizzically.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. However, most of them are asleep during the day.”

Sweiza mutters, “Keywords being most.”

Her words do not escape Lumina, “Of course. There are a few rebellious spirits that wander the court yard.” His gaze follows from Sweiza to something in the distance. She sees something white akin to fire, but it is in the form of human. Sweiza feels her body tighten and her neck hair stand on end. She deliberately claps her hands on her mouth and muffles a shriek.

“Very smart of you. It would assume otherwise that you are not on here with business with me.”

Sweiza doesn’t want to think what would happen. Would it alert all the other Myrkvellirfolk? Evil spirits chasing after her? Ah! A terrible thought.

Sweiza stops when Lumina does in front of the castle’s main gates. Lumina stamps his foot on the ground and flips his visor up. He takes his sword and stabs it into a slot in the door. He stands back and his eyes glow blue. The gates shudder and slowly open with a loud grown. Sweiza looks back over where the embodied fire spirit was. She cringes when she sees it stops walking and stares directly over at them.

“We must hurry. They know of our purpose here.” Lumina grabs a frozen Sweiza and ushers (keyword: pushes) her inside. She snaps out of it.

“Then what are we here for?” She looks back at the castle entrance; she still sees the fire spirit watching them. The doors shudder close with another groan.

“The only reason anyone ever comes here. To loot something.”

Sweiza rolls her eyes. “Obviously I’m here to fetch some kind of artifact. But what I’m asking is, what is it?”

Lumina stops and closes his helm’s visor. “At the top of this castle is a statue that cries in the rain. It holds a sword that acts as a lightning rod.”

Sweiza looks towards the ceiling. The tower was pretty high up. “How many floors?”

“Fifty-six.”

Sweiza’s head and current mood droop. She starts walking down the main hall without Lumina.

“Sweiza, that is the wrong way! You need to take either door to the left or right of that hall. The throne room down the main hall is fake—it is a defense strategy against saboteurs and possible invaders.”

Sweiza is left to stand back at him. Her eyes stop mid-roll; she’s a guest here and better act like it. She starts to the left door; Lumina follows her.

Sweiza can’t help eyeing the interior of different rooms down the hall—each has something interesting to tell, despite being aged, dilapidated and abandoned. One is clearly a nursery, another a kitchen, another an armory. These clearly are for guests as most castles as she would imagine have much larger sections devoted to such amenities. She can only wonder what their library and -actual- armory look like. She stops at one room that has some odd objects in it.

“This was the Regent’s domicile.”

Sweiza looks from the room to him.

“…meaning the room belonged to the king’s top advisor.”

Sweiza’s eyes shift away as she gives a silent “Oh.”

Lumina shoos her along.

Just past one doorway Sweiza stops. She peers inside it. It is dark compared to the other rooms. Cannot light from outside make it in? Maybe that is part of the defense of the castle?

“That is the throne room. I doubt you want to see the dead bodies in there.”

Sweiza grimaces and her body shudders. “Where is the staircase for the top tower?”

“It is behind the throne room.” Lumina points to a door at the end of the hall.

When they get there (after about seven other doors), Sweiza sees a staircase that spirals from the ground (most likely a basement for knights or a kitchen perhaps), and then spiraling upwards. She looks back at Lumina—he waves his hand to push her onward.