Mischief On Earth ✔

Of Hope And Happiness

* music above......Paperman anyone? *

Loki screamed, and the sound reverberated round and round the park, scaring hidden birds out of their trees, sending animals scurrying away in fright. It was a lonely and frightening sound, echoing with agony the likes of which no one had ever known, and that which no one should ever experience.

He sat there for minutes, just cradling the lifeless body in his arms, pouring out his pain and grief, the ache in his chest intensifying to the point where no words could describe it.

And all through this, the blue jewel kept pulsing and pulsing.

The scream died out.

One shaking whisper. A whisper of hope.

"Her wishes. She has two left." Loki looked up at Odin, his green eyes still striking beneath the film of tears. There was ragged hope on his voice as he spoke. "The Sceptre can still grant her two wishes!"

"That is true, but those wishes are hers to make. It is not your decision."

"Do you think she wanted to die?" Loki yelled. "If she had breath left to speak she would wish she could live! You know that Father!"

Odin stood there. "Bringing the dead back to life....that goes beyond the natural law."

"The Sceptre itself goes beyond natural law! I mean - just look at it! A staff that grants any three of your wishes? A staff imbued with magic?"

"It would need more magic than what the Sceptre has." Odin paused. "Are you willing to sacrifice your greatest gift?"

It took a heartbeat for Loki to understand what his father meant. He looked back down at Kyra, at her pale lips, and felt the way the heat from her body was already dissipating into the cold night.

When he answered he answered with no hesitation.

"Take it. Take it all. Just save her."

"Very well."

Odin started muttering, the foreign words crackling and rolling across his tongue. With shaking but determined fingers Loki gripped the Sceptre and pulled it out of her back. He laid the staff - the weapon of murder - across Kyra's lap and placed her two hands around the blue jewel, which was now pulsating with sudden ferocity.

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. His eyes closed and he whispered,

"Please live, Kyra. Come back to me."

Something within him stirred. Warmth spread all over his being and he felt the tingles all over, all the way from his toes to the tip of his fingertips. He felt the comforting sparks arcing through his veins and smiled, a weak and wan curve of the lips.

His magic had returned.

Hello old friend.

They made a complete circuit of his body, and as swiftly as they come did they disappear. He felt them leaving him, seeping out of his skin and into the cold body beneath. He felt it too, the sense of loss, as he realized that he would never shape-shift again, nor turn invisible to the naked eye; he would no longer be able to cast those illusions he love so much, nor would he be able to teleport across vast distances in the blink of an eye.

He had lost that which made him different, the pedestal on which he stood with firm confidence, the one thing that made him stand out from everyone else.

In all essence and purposes, he had become - a mortal.

Was it worth it?

Was she?