“We could send out a prophecy, just like the good old times!" Loki gesticulated broadly. "Maybe use the classic: A necromancer will be the downfall of your empire! Then we have the locals kill all the necromancers, making angry necromancers everywhere, and then in marches our spunky hero to burn the unjust necro-hating empire to the ground for their hubris!
"Worse case, they weaken themselves enough for a neighbor with necromancers to destroy them for their stupidity,” Loki said gleefully. He perched on the arm of a couch addressing the golden-haired goddess lounging next to him.
"You've been reading too many trashy novels," Freya sighed in mock exasperation and rolled her head along the top of the couch to address him before holding up three languid fingers. “Three things. First off, they don’t have necromancers exactly. Second, Astrians are practical people, who put very little stock in the vague mutterings of crazy people. And that leaves us with the fact that none of this has anything to do with the favor you're asking. Not to mention the point is to avoid attention as much as possible while we develop a beachhead.
“So, get to the point, or get out."
Loki harrumphed. “That wasn't my point and you know it. We should be expanding faster. Your little pet isn’t enough and she’s already corrupted my…agents,” Loki said the last with distaste. "And don't let me get started on the disaster that is Heimdal's pawns. We need more. Besides, your pet is so close to the perfect candidate for my needs."
"Why should I care? No...you know what? You're supposed to be the trickster. Can’t you think of something clever? Or are you losing your edge?” Freya turned back to the big screen television that was focused on her champion. The girl was in a heated conversation with one of her new friends. “Just leave my girl out of it.”
“What if I sweeten the deal?” Loki said through clenched teeth.
“Hmm?” She spared him another glance and raised an eyebrow.
“You can have the cat-girl,” he said with an ingratiating smile. That ungrateful...
“Just the one favor?” Freya clarified.
“A favor for my favor and my displeasing agent,” Loki agreed.
“Deal.”
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Awareness slowly returned to Rony with the soothing wave sounds of her noisemaker. She lay in a bed, no that wasn't right it was something else. A lounge?
A solid-looking man in a floral button-up shirt loomed over her.
Her heart rate spiked at his proximity but quickly settled as she met his familiar gaze. At that moment she realized she truly trusted this man. Something that she rarely did.
A smile touched the corners of her mouth.
"Hi, Luke? What?" Her words were arrested by the emotion in his mischievous eyes. She'd often wondered what made such a ruggedly handsome man seek out her services. Not that she complained. He was one of the few that took pleasure in hers. A rare breed for someone in her line of work.
"Hey Foxy," he said with a bittersweet smile.
She found she couldn't process the sadness on his face and looked past his shoulder noting they were lounging in a cabana of some sort and that the sounds of waves and distant birds were the real thing.
"Where are we?"
"You can say this is my place."
"What now?"
His smile turned into a frown and he brushed his hand through his hair. "Well, you died."
Like his word was a missile impacting a hydro dam the memories flooded back.
She remained speechless for a long minute before her anger surged.
"That… that cum guzzling buzzard!"
"There it is," he said softly.
"It wasn't a dream? I really died." The bottom fell out of her world.
"Afraid so."
"Soo…" she swallowed, "this is?"
"You gave me your soul. I know you planned a little trip. I thought it would be nice to give you a taste of what you missed." He gestured to the emerald sea laid out before them.
She didn't know how to unpack any of that but she nodded then took the implied opportunity to lay back and simply enjoy the view for a time, while she gathered her sanity.
She suppressed the strange impulse to giggle.
"I take it your name isn't Luke," Rony said when her mind cleared.
Not-Luke leaned forward and held his hand out to her then said. "Loki, it's a pleasure to officially meet you."
Rony barked a laugh that turned into the repressed giggles. She stopped herself short when she noticed his expression hadn't changed. "Seriously? As in the god?"
"Seriously." Mirrored mirth danced in his eyes.
She shook her head in bemusement then gave him a firm handshake.
"Figures you're all I warrant with the life I led," Rony muttered.
"Hey now. I'm not so bad."
"You're Loki." She gave him a flat look.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
"Your culture tends to exaggerate," he waved it off before leaning back in his seat.
“So what is this? My afterlife?”
“Not exactly. This is just where we have a little chat. You promised me your next life, and I intend to collect.”
“I think that's gross this misinterpretation of what I said. I'm pretty sure I said ‘maybe’.”
“Semantics.” He smirked.
"So, I've been sleeping with the trickster for months," she muttered to herself. "Why?"
"Why what?" he asked.
"Why am I here? Why… I don't know, everything?"
"To answer a question, and because I made a promise," Loki said.
"What question?"
"If you could be anything or anyone, would you?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"Humor me."
Rony took the time to ponder it for a minute before answering. "I don't really know. I always felt I could make myself fit anywhere regardless of the people around me. I like...liked who I am. Despite what others may think."
"Perfect! Are you willing to trust me then?"
"Trust you with what exactly?" She eyed him warily.
He waved a hand dismissively. "Your rebirth."
"Rebirth?" Rony asked slowly.
"Of course. You agreed to be my champion. You can't do that as an untethered soul."
"Okay?" Rony said, looking down at herself for a second—she felt real—before putting more of her final moments together with context.
"I need a firmer answer than that."
"Can you fix my crooked toes?" She blushed.
Loki laughed. "No worries on that front, love. I'll make sure you have perfect little digits."
Rony took the last sip of her fruity drink and watched the lapping waves for a time before speaking again. "Okay. Do your thing, I guess."
"We have one more thing to do."
"What's that?"
"You have to choose what to sacrifice for benefits in your new life."
"What kind of sacrifices?"
"Things about yourself that you value. Only a true sacrifice will work after all."
“Like what?”
“I’ll take a play out of a colleague's book,” Loki said and waved a hand.
A list populated in Rony’s vision blocking out the beautiful view.
#
Sacrifice
Significance
1
Writing
Low
2
Traditional Sports
Low
3
Chemistry
Low
4
Math
Moderate
5
Your ability to dance (all types)
Moderate
6
Marketing
High
7
Acting
High
8
Accounting
High
9
Massage/Sexual persuasion skills
High
10
Stoicism
High
11
Kickboxing
High
12
Brazilian jiu-jitsu
Very High
13
All your knowledge on the use and production of guns and their ammunition
Very High
14
Snowboarding skills
Very High
"Hell, I don't know. You said my sister is where I'm going?" Rony hedged.
"Yes. I'm supposed to encourage you to choose number 13. The knowledge would likely cause you and I issues. Especially with your upbringing and knowledge."
Rony frowned. "No guns where I'm going then? Could you take my knowledge on how to make gunpowder and firearms instead? Leave my ability to shoot?"
Loki smiled broadly. "A perfect compromise. We'll do that. Anything else you're willing to sacrifice?"
“Why is Brazilian jiu-jitsu listed as Very High? I’m not particularly good at it yet,” Rony asked.
“Significance is determined by how much you cherish a skill, not how good you’re at it. You worked very hard to get what little skill you do have,” Loki explained.
Rony frowned for a moment before nodding. "What would I lose if I give up Snowboarding?"
"All knowledge of the equipment used, training, and skill-specific abilities. Like your developed experience with timing, balance, and so on."
Rony chewed her lower lip. Who knows what else could be affected by that loss. I can always do things the hard way.
"Can I have a few minutes to think?" Rony asked, gesturing at the view.
"Sure." He offered her a glass filled with ice, mint, and lime slices. “Mojito?”
"Please." Rony took a sip of the minty drink and pondered as they watched the shadows lengthen then the sun set in brilliant fashion.
When it dipped completely behind the horizon Loki spoke. "It's time."
Rony nodded reluctantly and said, "just the firearm knowledge we discussed. I don't want to lose more of what I am than I need to."
"Wise. I'll see you after you awaken. Please don't die before then, Foxy."
Rony snorted then finished her drink in one long pull. "I'll do my best."
He snapped his fingers. "Oh! I nearly forgot. Be sure to shift before you're four summers old. It gets complicated after that."
"What does shi...?" Rony started to ask but everything went white.
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Loki settled back to watch the dark waters lap at the sand. "Foxy, Foxy, Foxy. You're giving me little to work with, my dear. Not that I expected more. I picked you for your stubborn tenacity, and clear thought after all.
"With what needs to happen for you to learn the right skills now though… I hope you don't hate me too much." He chuckled to himself. "Maybe a core with a stiff drawback could give me some wiggle room."
He shrugged to himself and took a sip from his mojito. "I have time. Now, I wonder what Heimi is up to."
A statuesque red-haired Japanese woman in a formal kimono walked past and perched herself on the edge of Rony's vacant seat.
"Konbanwa," she greeted.
"Please, make yourself at home," Loki snarked, toasting her with his glass.
"Is it done?" she asked.
"It's done. The others?"
"You were right."
Loki smiled.