“This cannot be borne!”

The shout, tinged with a hint of maddened fury, echoed through the enormous cavern, the space dimly lit by a few mage lights attached to the basalt walls. The floor was smooth and black, with a large circle embedded in the floor, enclosing a ritualized spider design. Three figures stood in the gloom. One was standing in the middle of the room, his back to the pair silently watching him.

“Aaghhh! Nincompoops all! Cowards! Useless pigs! Imbecilic excuses for deities! Nitwits! Week-old swill! Rotten tomatoes!” continued the mad tirade, the speaker raising his clenched fists in the air.

The two listeners looked at each other. One was an elderly black man, clad in a simple black robe, while the other was a beautiful black woman dressed in light leather armor. The male shook his head when his armored companion moved to the one ranting at the rocky wall. She halted; an inquiring look on her face. Only a wry expression was her reply.

An ominous emerald glow suddenly appeared around their furious companion. It blazed its way through the lit space, threatening to drown them all in its spectral light. The silent radiance increased in intensity and clawed its way into the darkest recesses of the cavern. The eldritch occurrence drove the watching black man into action.

“Enough, Lord Loki. You don’t have to destroy my sanctuary to satisfy such anger,” Anansi calmly told the glowing shape. He’d seen this melodramatic side of his friend in times of stress, of crisis. The theatrics were a given in Loki’s personality. He couldn’t escape it, same as Anansi couldn’t lose the spider aspect of his being.

The figure whirled and faced the speaker. The glow surrounding Loki had intensified. Blazing green light filled the cavernous hollow. Vivid lighting etched the god’s face in a haunted mien, the unfocused eyes staring yet not seeing. Then a thread of consciousness streamed through the visage, and Anansi saw some lucidity return to the maddened deity.

“Anger? Who said I was angry? I don’t do angry! I do righteous fury! That’s cool.”

“Cool?” came the puzzled remark.

“It means I am down with it. A First World expression. First World... First World... First World. It’s all the fault of that First Mage! Why didn’t I see it before?” exclaimed the deity, rising from the floor as he cried out, arms dramatically raised toward the heavens.

“He’s but a mortal, Loki. What can he do against deities? He got lucky with a few gods, but that doesn’t mean he’s a threat. From what I hear, mastery of the arcane arts is a struggle for the neophyte mage,” replied the black smoothly. Anansi knew the personality of his fellow deity. There was no telling what Loki would do. Personally, he’d rather have the Norse do his tantrum somewhere up north. The far north.

“I don’t know how he did it! The Norns warned me about him. A vague and incoherent prophecy, I have to say. As is their wont. I covered my ass with that deal with him! Yet somehow, a damned imp in my brains keeps on telling me he’s responsible for our setbacks!” shouted the Norse deity.

“A mortal? Even as a First Mage, his limitations and the length and breath of Adar...”

A furious cry from Loki roughly interrupted the disbelieving and dismissive reply of Anansi.

“I know! That’s what makes it sooo ridiculous! He doesn’t even know how to handle magic!” came the loud remark. Then Loki laughed, long and hard. The cackle reverberated through the space, yet it didn’t sound as if his discovery amused him.

“That blot, that bacraut! I feel in my gut his involvement! I should have gotten rid of him somehow!”

“The whirlwind. The black destruction. Not to mention your oath. You’d risk death and the destruction of this world?” asked Anansi sedately, though an eyebrow was raised. There was no point in feeding the madness and obsession of the incensed Norse.

The deity had long since learned how to deal with the peculiarities of his friend. Raising one’s voice in argument was bound to fail and even release the madness that simmered beneath the shallow surface of Loki’s sanity. The deity was truly insane, Anansi knew that simple little fact. Still, it was a peculiar affliction. Loki was extremely focused and clear-headed in the pursuit of madcap, yet tantalizing schemes.

The Norse deity gave a devilishly meaningful smile as his answer. It was classic Loki. The abrupt and startling shift from insulted anger to malicious mirth. One could even say it’s a trademark.

“Hah. I have my other plans. A few of them, in fact. And opportunities just waiting for me to smile at them. You really think I’d put all my eggs in one basket? Susceptible to cracking in such crowded conditions. All we need to do is wait for another opening while we strengthen our grip in the South,” smiled the deity. Anansi couldn’t fail but notice the crazed gleam in Loki’s eyes had not abated.

“But that pain in the unmentionables has to be dealt with,” he continued, musing as he stared at the ceiling. “Now how to squat a stinging fly...”

The woman stared at Anansi, asking for permission to speak. The ancient deity nodded. It wasn’t as if he had anything to suggest. Tampering with a magical oath wasn’t to his taste. He still hasn’t tired of existing. Yet if Uttu was interested, who was he to interfere? Especially when he suspected the goddess to be quite ambitious herself.

“Lord Loki,” began the woman, her melodious voice softly echoing through the viridescent chamber.

The Norse deity whirled at the sound, glanced at Uttu, and raised an eyebrow.

“If you’d permit me, I’d like to see what I could do regarding the mortal. Short of killing him myself, I suppose.”

Loki grinned, a knowing, mischievous look etched on his face.

“Observe. No killing,” the deity instructed. Then he whirled and looked around. “Hear that? You magical geas? I said observe! And no killing!”

Far away to the North, a colossal gray dragon awoke from his slumber.