Chapter Text
Through the Veil
“Incorrect.”
Cursing, Abigail Nightingale smudged out her rune and remarked it again. It was the third time she as being told to redraw it and her patience was wearing thin. “It would help if you would allow me to see the book,” she grumbled, knowing that the complaint would only be mocked.
As expected, her mentor chuckled, shaking his head. “Dear, I have been telling you to memorize these since you found the ritual. It will work best that way. More of your magic will flow into them, offering more success to the result of the ritual itself.”
“Useless god...always insisting I do things the difficult way...what will it matter if I am looking at a book or not? Magic won't notice.” Even with her grumblings, the young witch knew her mentor was correct. They had gone over it before and she had seen the proof when she allowed her magic to weave itself into her actions.
With a wave of her hand and a few muttered Latin words, Abigail willed away her draw runes. Her chosen surface clear, she closed her eyes and allowed her magic to flow through the ink coating her hands. Satisfied, eyes stilled closed, the witch began drawing the runes as they appeared in her mind. Though reluctantly, she as forced to admit her mentor had been right in his advice, as he often was.
Loki shook his head at the girl. She reminded him of his Fenrir with how stubborn she could be, yet was otherwise so much like his Hel. That was the original reason he took her on, because Abigail reminded him of his daughter Hel, who he had rarely seen since Odin appointed her as ruler of Helheim. Both girls held a love for knowledge, though Abigail seemed willing to do anything to gain it while Hel simply waited for it to appear.
Abigail turned out to be exactly what he could have wanted in an apprentice. Perhaps the mortal girl could do more in the realm of patience, but her thirst for knowledge and willingness to learn made up for that. That was the only reason the child had lasted so long beside him. It helped that her magical core was vibrate and large. Her power matched her want of knowledge. She would not have been much used to him otherwise, especially with her mortality.
“Master,” the word sounded bitter coming from the girl, but was enough to draw his attention. “I have finished.”
Nodding, Loki glanced up. The doorway and ground surrounding it was covered in runes. Each was intertwined with a bit of young Abigail's magic, exactly as the ritual required it to be. Doing a final check of the shapes, he nodded and closed the old tome. “Very good. It seems you have finally discovered those brains of yours, child.”
Abigail let out a huff and turned from him, but knew better than to say anything. She had been in the wrong and knew that. Further words would only point that out. “May we try it now?...I am anxious to go home.”
It had been five long years since she had been there; five years since she basically collapsed on Loki's doorstep. Every chance she had while in Asgard, or wherever her mentor took her, was spent search for further a way home. Abigail had been wanting this for a long time. Even when they found a tome, the one Loki held now, with a potential ritual the year before, she had been wanting to try it immediately, no matter the risks it had. Instead, she reluctantly took Loki's advice and spent a year tuning her magical core further with the magic of his realm, the magic that would be required in this specific ritual. It would save her an unfortunate death, he had said. Hopefully, her precaution would not be wasted.
Smiling, the god nodded. “Yes.” Stepping to her, he cupped her cheek. “If this is successful, it may be a long while before you see me again. Know that I will be watching you, that I will not leave you alone. You are my charge and it is my job.”
Abigail allowed her hand to rest over Loki's. “I know. You are my patron god; you are my mentor; you have taught me so much. I know you could never leave me be. It would be to easy and you never take the easy way,” she grinned.
Chuckling and shaking his head, Loki took a step back. “That is true. Now, concentrate child. You will need all your magic for this.” Giving a determined nod, the mortal focused on the doorway and runes before her. Immediately, Loki could see as the magic reacted even before she spoke the required chant. “Focus on your magical core. We have found it through meditation before, now find it again. Yes...there it is. Now, you need to feel the raw power and put as much of it into the runes as you can. Save a small amount for the journey. It will help guild you. Yes...You have this Abigail.”
Loki couldn't take his eyes from her as she began chanting. Her voice was smooth, humming with the sheer force of her magic. He was reminded of how her magic so resembled her surname, as if it was made for it. “Goodbye, my dear Nightingale.” The mortal girl stepped forward; she and the doorway were engulfed with a blinding light. As it faded away, both Abigail Nightingale and the runes were gone. “I will see you again in a different realm, my dear apprentice.”
X.x.X.x.X
Had she not gone through such strenuous mental preparation with her master, Abigail knew the journey would have caused her to fall unconscious, if not killed her. Allowing her breaths to become less calculated and more natural, she focused on her destination. Upon opening her eyes again, she saw her magic forming a path in the darkness. Grinning, she willed her body forward, ignoring the drain that worsened as she moved.
It was only when she felt the affects of gravity again that Abigail took note of the affect both the ritual and journey had on her core and body. The edges of her vision blurred and her knees shook, begging for release of the burden that was her body. Even breathing was becoming difficult as the magic of a different realm held her, attempting to pull her back.
'Warn him...' The voice was a faint whisper and rough, as if recovering from lack of use. Abigail cried out as her Occlumency shields were shattered. Images of a teenage boy filled her mind, his raven black hair wild and his gem-like green eyes filled with fear and sadness. 'Save him from that fate.' Then, she was released as quickly as it happened. Her shields shimmered back into place and the realm of darkness released its hold on her, prompting Abigail to collapse.
The pounding in her ears and ragged attempts at collecting breath were enough to block out alarms blaring around her. It was only when she felt new magic that the young woman lifted her head. Surrounding her were a group cloaked in silver and black, faces hidden in shadows. She let out a shrill laugh, thrilled at knowing the legendary Unspeakables thought her such a danger to give her the welcome of wands aiming her way. Despite the situation, she couldn't help but finding the humor in the deadly situation.
The blackness began edging into her vision again. This time, it had nothing to do with the voices of the lost realm that tried to reach out for her. Instead, it was her magic failing. Too much had went into the ritual and journey, leaving her with little to stabilize her afterwards. The Unspeakable before her seemed to realize this, perhaps from the way her body swayed, as it approached her, wand lowering.
Abigail did not protest as the hand touched her shoulder and the shadowed face leveled with her gaze. “Rest...your magic needs to rebuild or you will die.”
Again, the young witch let out a shrill laugh. It was so funny, but she couldn't place why. Abigail remembered the face of the dark haired, bright eyed boy a Lost Voice had sent to her. It reminded her of another dark haired, bright eyed boy and her entire reason for coming back, coming home. “Tom...I need—Tom.” Giving a final chuckle, she stopped fighting and collapsed into the Unspeakable's arms as her world became black.