The Well (39)

690 22 0
                                    

Here's the next chapter :D before we start, what is written like "this," is mind talk. Sanchez can talk through her mind with people, even without seeing them. She has this connection - of course- with her brother.
But now... Enjoy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sanchez entered the briefing room, her cursing became more loud.
"What is this for nonsense?"
The news was on, telling about rumours in Oslo. They also showed a picture of a man and a woman.
"We are gods?! MY ASS," she shouted. She ran through the briefing room, to her bunk.
"Idiot, talk to me," she hissed.
"You could be more nice, you know, after what I did for you," murmled a sleepy voice.
"I'm... We're... We're having a situation."
"Hmm?"
Her brother sounded more interested right now.
"We're having a few illegals. I don't know their names yet, but I will brief them to you."
"Is that everything?"
"Of course that isn't everything!"
She shouted. "Some of Don Juan's candy has fallen into the hands of the illegals."
Her brother sighed annoyed.
"You're kidding, I hope."
"No, I'm not, pork leg. You'll hear more of me. The others can be here any minute."
She took an old book from under her bed, and went back to the briefing room, where only May was left.
"We're having a briefing in the lab," she told her.
"Fine," Sanchez growled as a response.
"Are you-"
"All right? Of course I'm not," she replied. "I'm... Let's say... I am not supposed to talk about it."
They went downstairs, where Ward was just going to start the briefing.
"Jakob Nystrom, thirty. His girlfriend, Petra Larsen. Leaders of a Norse Paganists Hate group."
"And the numbers are growing, thanks to what happend in Grenich, and thanks to the internet. 'Yaaaay, internet,' she said sarcasticly," Skye added to it.
"Norse paganists?" Simmons asked.
"Obsessed with everything-"
"From Norse mythology. I know. They should burn people like them," Sanchez growled.
"But still... We're having a weapon."
Every single one of them looked at Sanchez, knowing this was her department.
"That isn't a weapon. That's a damn thing that they should throw into a volcano... Or something like that."
She took the old book she had with her.
"I don't know much about the writing. It is written in an old Asguardian language, even I don't speak it. About the staf itself, I can tell you something more about that. Two pieces are missing, the staf is broken in three pieces. The staf is part of an old Asguardian story, many thought that the legend of the staf was just a myth. Someone speciallised in the mythology of the staf lives in Seville."
In the meanwhile, Coulson came into the lab.
"Coulson, I-"
"Need a second opinion from someone in Seville? I know," he replied.
"Professor Elliot Randolph. I've consulted him about Thor's hammer."
"Wonderful."
Without saying something to someone else, she left the lab.
"Sir?" Ward asked. "What are our orders?"
"We're leaving immediately," Coulson said. "Maybe he can also help us about the writing on the staf."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: Seville Spain
Time: Unknown

"One must adapt. Recent events have thrown us all for a loop. I thought I was teaching Norse mythology but no. Turns out I'm a history professor. ."
"So... You're not going to change my grade?"
"Hm... No. I will give you a week to re-write it. I think in general, a little more history lesson incrypt. But I do hope you're still on for diner tonight. I've given you a list of books that might help you. I'll see you later."
Professor Randolph let his student out of his office. But she was barrely out, or a man in his late forties, followed by a young man and a young woman, came in.
"Professor Randolph."
"Agent Coulson, come in, come in," he grinned.
"Waterfield forty-four," Coulson guessed, pointing at the pen in Randolph his hand.
"Fourteen carred gold nip, with mother of pearl inlined."
Randolph laughed. "It's quiet an eye you got. I didn't know you were a collector."
"On a gouverment salary... Not quiet."
"Well, I'm assuming you found something on the ground in London."
"In a tree in Norway. And unfortunately, we weren't the onces who found it."
"It's a 3D-model," Fitz explained, while Coulson gave the model to Randolph.
"Oh... That is amazing," Randolph said.
"Based on these runes, I would say that I'm looking at a piece of the berserker staf. Let's have a look."
He took a book from his desk.
"Yeah, the myth takes back to the late twelveth century. It's all about a powerful warrior from Asguard. Here, the soldier and the berserker army."
"Berserker army," Fitz said, quiet dreamy.
"O yeah," Randolph replied. "A powerful army. A fierce army, it was. Berserkers battled like raging beasts, destroying everything in their path. A single berserker had the strength of twenty warriors."
"So, whoever wielled the staf, got super human strength?" Coulson asked.
"Fighting with it put the warrior in a state of uncontrollable rage. And the staf contains a very powerfull magic."
"Or a scientific attribute we've yet to discover," Simmons replied.
"Atleticy minded and pretty as a piece," Randolph grinned.
"The warrior in the story?" Fitz asked.
"Well, in the story, he came to earth to fight. But he ended up, falling in love."
"With who?"
"With life, on earth," Randolph replied to Simmons her question. "Humanity. He fell so much in love that when his army returned to Asguard, he stayed behind."
"What happend to the staf?" Fitz asked.
"Well, he didn't want this dark magic to fall into the wrong hands, so he broke it into three pieces, and hide each one in a diffrent location."
"The manuscript wouldn't happen to say where he hide them, would it?" Coulson asked.
"Actually, it does," Randolph responded. "In three verses. These are all poetic abstracts, from long, lost acient texts. So, there is one about a tree, which they found it seems... Another is: 'East of the river, sun overhead, burried in the earth, bones of the death.' That's a bit crude, isn't it? And there's another one here... While this one doesn't even have a rime. But the meaning of this one is 'close to god.' That could be anything, couldn't it?"
"It could also mean nothing," Simmons said.
" I was hoping for a less metaphor, more longitude and letitude."
"Well, I mean, it does stand a reason to search near viking trade routes, doesn't it? Now, there have been some recent findings of Norse relics on Bafa Island, of the coast of Canada. A real treasure, with new artifacts."
"We'll start there then," Coulson responded. "Thank you professor."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I hope you've had some fun in Seville."
Coulson sighed when he entered his office. Sanchez had stolen the seat behind his desk, and was playing with a knife.
"There's something I don't understand."
"Is it, Phil?"
"You've sended me to hear a story from someone, when a supernatural specialist is supposed to know it."
"So?"
"Why was it necessary that we would meet professor Randolph?"
The playing with the knife stopped.
"There you go."

                                                                           *

"So, we're going back into Seville."
"Skye, Ward, Coulson, and Fitz are. Simmons and I are staying on the bus, but you're free to go with them if you want," May replied, walking by Sanchez.
"For no gold. I'm not getting into a five mile radius from that bloody staf."
"Why are you hating it so much?" She asked.
"I just don't like anything Berserker."
"I know you're lying," May said again.
"I'm a enormous bitch, May," Sanchez growled. "I'm not supposed to be nice. Besides, I have a few illigals to catch."

                                                                         

Sometimes things are more magical than you know ~ Agents of SHIELD #wattys2015Where stories live. Discover now