16. Lies Complicates Everything: Eryx

CHAPTER 16

LIES COMPLICATES EVERYTHING

ERYX

T he Thunder God was trying so hard to be a gracious host, pointing out ancient tapestries and explaining the history behind various artifacts they passed. It was almost endearing, in as weird, cosmic sort of way.

They came to a stop in front of a set of ornate doors, carved with intricate designs that seemed to shift and move if you looked at them too long. Eryx blinked, wondering if it was just his tired eyes playing tricks on him or if the wood was actually alive.

"These will be your chambers," Thor announced, his voice echoing in the cavernous hallway. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. We will convene at dawn to begin our journey to Fenrir's prison."

Eryx nodded, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety that tightened in his gut at the mention of their impending mission. Facing down a mythological wolf with daddy issues wasn't exactly how he'd planned to spend his week, but then again, nothing about their lives was ever really "planned" these days.

As Thor showed Zac to a separate room, Eryx couldn't help but notice the gleam in the teenager's eye. He'd bet his last drachma that the kid was already plotting how to wheedle a private tour out of the Thunder God. Typical Zac, always curious, always pushing boundaries. It was going to get him into trouble one of these days, but Eryx couldn't deny that it was also one of the things he loved most about the kid.

Just as Eryx was about to follow Alex into their room, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned to find his partner looking uncharacteristically serious, a crease between his brows that Eryx had learned to associate with impending difficult conversations.

"We need to talk," Alex said, his voice low and tense.

Eryx felt his stomach drop. In his experience, nothing good ever followed those four words. "Okay," he said cautiously, following Alex into their assigned chamber.

The room was opulent, all gold and rich fabrics, with a bed big enough to host a small orgy. Under different circumstances, Eryx might have made a joke about Thor's taste in interior design. But the look on Alex's face killed any inclination towards humor.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Alex pulled Eryx to him, guiding them both to sit on the edge of the ridiculously large bed. Alex took Eryx's hands in his own, and Eryx felt his anxiety ratchet up another notch.

"What's going on, Alex?" Eryx asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice. "You're starting to freak me out here."

Alex took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant. "Thanatos took me to see the Fates."

For a moment, Eryx wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. The Fates?

"I'm sorry, what?" Eryx said, his voice sharper than he'd intended. "When exactly were you planning on sharing this little tidbit of information? And why the hell didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

Alex winced, looking genuinely contrite. "I know, I know. I should have told you. It's just... with everything that's been going on, it kind of slipped my mind."

"Slipped your mind?" Eryx repeated incredulously. "Alex, a meeting with the fucking Fates isn't like forgetting to pick up milk at the store. This is serious. Our relationship is supposed to be transparent, remember? No secrets, no hidden agendas. Especially not when it comes to potentially world-altering prophecies!"

Eryx could feel his temper rising, a hot, prickly sensation that started in his chest and spread outward. It wasn't often that he lost his cool like this, but the idea that Alex had kept something so monumental from him, he can't deny that it hurt. More than he wanted to admit.

Alex reached out, trying to pull Eryx closer, but Eryx shrugged off his touch. He needed space, needed to think. Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration that Eryx recognized all too well.

"You're right," Alex said, his voice heavy with regret. "I fucked up. I should have told you immediately. But you know how the Fates are. They speak in riddles and half-truths. I didn't want to worry you over what might turn out to be nothing."

Eryx took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn't solve anything, and they had bigger problems to deal with right now. "Okay," he said, his voice tight but controlled. "Tell me everything. What did the Fates say?"

Alex's expression grew serious, his dark eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance as if he were replaying the memory. "They warned me about someone going missing. Said it would set off a chain of events that could reshape the Nine Realms."

Eryx felt a chill run down his spine. "Odin," he breathed, the pieces starting to fall into place. "They were talking about Odin's disappearance."

Alex nodded grimly. "That's what I'm thinking. At the time, it didn't make much sense. But now, with everything that's happening in Asgard..."

"Fuck," Eryx swore, the weight of the situation settling onto his shoulders like a physical thing. "Alex, do you realize what this means? The Fates knew this was coming. They tried to warn us, and we what? Ignored it? Forgot about it?"

The enormity of their oversight threatened to overwhelm him. Eryx could feel his pulse quickening, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He needed to get out, needed space to think.

"I... I need some air," he managed to choke out, barely registering Alex's concerned expression as he bolted for the door. "We're not done talking about this, but I just... I need a minute."

The corridors of Bilskirnir stretched out before him, a labyrinth of gold and stone. Eryx let his feet carry him, not really caring where he ended up. He just needed to move, to put some distance between himself and the weight of Alex's revelation.

Breathe, young one, Apollo's voice whispered in his mind, a warm presence that helped ground him. The threads of fate are complex, but not unbreakable.

Eryx sent back a mental nod of acknowledgment, focusing on steadying his breathing as he walked. In, out. In, out. The rhythm of his footsteps echoing off the stone walls provided a soothing counterpoint to his racing thoughts.

He wasn't sure how long he wandered before he found himself in a long gallery. The walls were lined with portraits, faces of gods and heroes staring down at him with expressions ranging from stern disapproval to benevolent wisdom.

Tyr, Apollo supplied as Eryx's gaze landed on a painting of a one-handed warrior. God of war and justice.

Eryx moved down the line, Apollo providing names for each face. Frigg, Baldur, Heimdall... it was like a who's who of Norse mythology come to life.

And then he saw it. A massive portrait dominating the far end of the gallery. Even without Apollo's input, Eryx knew who it depicted. The resemblance to Thor was unmistakable, though this face was older, lined with the weight of eons. One eye gazed out from the canvas with an intensity that made Eryx want to look away, while an eyepatch covered the other.

"Odin really didn't like that painting," a voice said from behind him, making Eryx jump. "Said it made him look like an egotistical maniac."

Eryx whirled around to find Brynhildr standing there, her posture more relaxed than it had been earlier. The Valkyrie's eyes were fixed on Odin's portrait, a mix of emotions playing across her face that Eryx couldn't quite decipher.

"Brynhildr," Eryx said, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. "I didn't hear you come in."

The Valkyrie's lips quirked in a small smile. "We're known for our stealth, among other things." She moved to stand beside him, her gaze never leaving Odin's face. "Couldn't sleep?"

Eryx shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. How could he explain the maelstrom of emotions churning inside him? The fear, the anger, the overwhelming sense of responsibility?

Brynhildr seemed to sense his turmoil. "Come," she said, gesturing to a nearby bench. "Let me tell you a story. One that might help you understand how we ended up here."

As they sat, Eryx found himself studying Brynhildr's face. There was a weariness there, a sadness that spoke of centuries of witnessed tragedy. But there was strength too, an unbreakable core of determination that reminded him a bit of Alex.

"You asked earlier about Loki," Brynhildr began, her voice taking on a storyteller's cadence. "About how he became what he is now. It's not a simple tale, I'm afraid. Nothing involving Loki ever is."

Eryx leaned forward, his earlier anger momentarily forgotten in the face of his curiosity. "I'm listening," he said softly.

Brynhildr's eyes grew distant, as if looking back through the mists of time. "Loki wasn't always the villain of our stories, you know. Once, long ago, he was Thor's closest friend and ally. They were inseparable, those two. Always getting into trouble, always finding a way out of it together."

She chuckled softly, a sound tinged with nostalgia. "I remember this one time, they decided to steal Freya's necklace on a dare. Ended up having to dress Thor as a bride to get it back. You should have seen Loki's face when..."

Brynhildr trailed off, her expression sobering. "But that was a long time ago."

"What changed?" Eryx asked.

The Valkyrie sighed, a sound heavy with centuries of regret. "It's hard to pinpoint exactly when things began to shift. Loki was always different. Clever, yes, but also restless. He never quite fit in with the Aesir, always pushing boundaries, always questioning the way things were done."

She paused, seeming to choose her next words carefully. "And then there was the prophecy."

Eryx felt a chill run down his spine. "Prophecy?"

Brynhildr nodded grimly. "Ragnarok. The twilight of the gods. It was foretold that Loki would play a key role in bringing about the end of Asgard. That his children would be instruments of destruction."

"Fenrir." Eryx interjected.

"Yes." Brynhildr confirmed. "And J?rmungandr, the World Serpent. And Hel, goddess of the underworld. All Loki's offspring, all destined to bring ruin to the realms."

Eryx felt his head spinning. He'd known the basics of Norse mythology, of course, but hearing it laid out like this, as recent history rather than ancient legend, was overwhelming.

"So what happened?" he asked, dreading the answer but needing to know.

Brynhildr's face darkened. "Odin made a choice. He decided that the prophecy needed to be prevented at all costs. He took Loki's children, banished them to different realms. Fenrir was bound, J?rmungandr cast into the seas of Midgard, Hel sent to rule the realm of the dead."

"Fuck," Eryx breathed, the horror of it sinking in. "And Loki?"

"He was never the same after that," Brynhildr said softly. "The loss of his children, the betrayal by those he'd considered family it broke something in him. He became bitter, vengeful. His pranks turned from harmless fun to genuine malice. And then..."

She trailed off, her eyes distant. Eryx waited, sensing there was more to come.

"Baldur," Brynhildr finally said, the name carrying a weight of tragedy. "Odin's son, beloved by all. Loki, he orchestrated Baldur's death. It was the final straw. After that, there was no going back."

Eryx sat in stunned silence, trying to process everything he'd heard. It was a tragedy of epic proportions, a story of family and betrayal that spanned millennia.

"But why now?" he asked, voicing the question that had been nagging at him. "Why make his move after all this time?"

Brynhildr shook her head, looking as lost as Eryx felt. "That, I'm afraid, I don't know. Loki's mind has always been a maze of plots and contingencies. Whatever his endgame is, I doubt even he fully understands it."

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of history and prophecy hanging heavy in the air between them. Eryx's mind was racing, trying to fit this new information into the puzzle they were facing.

"Thank you," he said finally, meeting Brynhildr's gaze. "For telling me all this. I know it can't have been easy."

The Valkyrie's smile was small but genuine. "Knowledge is power, young one. And in the days to come, we'll need all the power we can get."

As Brynhildr rose to leave, Eryx felt compelled to ask one last question. "Do you think that there's any hope of reaching Loki? Of making him see reason?"

Brynhildr paused, her expression unreadable. "Once, I would have said no. But you and your companions, you've already done the impossible by uniting Greek and Norse gods in a common cause. Perhaps you'll prove me wrong again."

Eryx nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination settling over him. They were facing long odds, true. But they'd beaten the impossible before. And they'd do it again, whatever it took.

Just as he was about to bid Brynhildr goodnight, the Valkyrie's expression shifted, a flicker of something—guilt? regret?—passing across her face. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for battle.

"Eryx," she said, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it, "there's something else I need to say."

Eryx felt himself tense involuntarily. In his experience, those words rarely preceded anything good. But he nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

"I... I want to apologize," Brynhildr began, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that caught him off guard. "For what happened at the concert. For the attack, for putting innocent lives at risk. It was unforgivable."

Eryx opened his mouth to speak, to brush off the apology or offer some platitude about understanding difficult choices. But Brynhildr held up a hand, silencing him before he could start.

"Please," she said, "let me finish. This isn't easy for me, and if I don't say it all now, I might lose my nerve."

Eryx closed his mouth, nodding for her to continue. He could feel Apollo stirring in the back of his mind, a warm presence radiating curiosity and a hint of approval.

Brynhildr took another deep breath, her gaze never wavering from Eryx's face. "What we did... what I did... it goes against everything the Valkyries stand for. We're supposed to protect, to guide, to be a bridge between the mortal world and Asgard. Instead, we brought chaos and destruction to your doorstep."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and Eryx felt a surge of empathy. He knew what it was like to carry the weight of mistakes, to question every decision in the harsh light of hindsight.

"We were so sure we were doing the right thing," Brynhildr continued, her words coming faster now, as if a dam had broken. "We thought... we truly believed we were acting on Freya's orders, protecting Asgard from some unseen threat. But that's no excuse. We should have questioned more, should have looked deeper. Instead, we let ourselves be manipulated, and innocent people paid the price."

She paused, seeming to gather herself. When she spoke again, her voice was steady, filled with a quiet determination that reminded Eryx of Alex in his more reflective moments.

"I know words can't undo what happened. I know they can't erase the fear, the damage, the trauma we caused. But I need you to know how deeply, truly sorry I am. For all of it."

Eryx stood there, momentarily stunned by the raw honesty of Brynhildr's apology.

"Brynhildr," Eryx said, his voice soft but firm, "I appreciate your apology. Really, I do. But it's not necessary. At least, not with me."

The Valkyrie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Clearly, this wasn't the response she'd been expecting.

Eryx continued, choosing his words carefully. "Look, I'm not going to pretend what happened at the concert wasn't a clusterfuck of epic proportions. It was. But I'm also not one to hold grudges, especially not when I can see how genuinely remorseful you are."

He ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up from Alex. "The way I see it, we've all been played here. You, me, Thor, even Odin himself. Loki's been pulling strings and manipulating events on a scale we're only just beginning to understand. Holding onto anger over past mistakes isn't going to help us fix this mess."

Brynhildr studied him for a long moment, her expression a mix of relief and something that looked suspiciously like respect. "You are not what I expected, Eryx, vessel of Apollo."

Eryx couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Yeah, well, expect the unexpected. It's kind of our thing."

A small smile tugged at Brynhildr's lips. "So I'm beginning to see." Her expression grew serious again. "Thank you, Eryx. Your forgiveness means more than you know."

Eryx nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle around them. It was strange, he thought, how quickly alliances could shift in their world. One minute you're dodging magical attacks from someone, the next you're having heart-to-hearts in dimly lit hallways.

"I hope you'll forgive me for saying this," she began, and Eryx immediately felt his guard go up. In his experience, that phrase was usually followed by something you definitely wouldn't forgive. "But I couldn't help overhearing your discussion with Alex earlier."

Eryx felt his cheeks heat up. Great. Just great. Their argument about the Fates had apparently been loud enough to reach Valkyrie ears. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Ah," he managed, trying to keep his voice neutral. "That."

Brynhildr's smile was sympathetic. "I know it's not my place to interfere in your relationship. But if I may offer some advice?"

Eryx nodded, not trusting himself to speak. This ought to be good.

"Be patient with him," Brynhildr said, her voice gentle but firm. "Alex, I mean. I've known him for centuries, watched him struggle with the weight of his responsibilities, his past. He doesn't open up easily, doesn't trust easily. The fact that he told you about the Fates at all... that's huge, Eryx. It means he trusts you more than he's trusted anyone in a very, very long time."

Eryx felt something in his chest tighten at her words. He knew, intellectually, that Alex had been through a lot. But hearing it laid out like this, from someone who'd known him for millennia... it put things in a new perspective.

"I'm not saying he was right to keep it from you," Brynhildr continued. "But try to understand where he's coming from. For someone like Alex, who's spent centuries guarding his heart and his secrets, learning to be open, to be vulnerable... it's not easy. It's a process. And from what I've seen, he's trying. For you. "

Eryx stood there, letting Brynhildr's words sink in. He thought about Alex, about the walls he'd built around himself, the defenses he'd constructed over centuries of loss and betrayal. And he thought about how, bit by bit, those walls had started to come down since they'd been together.

"Thank you," he said, meaning it. "For the advice, and for... well, for everything. It's given me a lot to think about."

Brynhildr nodded, reaching out to clasp his shoulder in a gesture that was probably meant to be comforting but felt more like being hit by a friendly truck. "You're good for him, you know. Both of you, you and the boy. I haven't seen Alex this alive in centuries."

With that, she turned to go, leaving Eryx standing there with a head full of thoughts and a heart full of emotions he couldn't quite name.