***
The mage suddenly found himself standing high on a rocky escarpment on the side of a mountain. The stiff breeze blew through his armor and chilled his skin.
“Why here? It’s so damned cold!” protested Tyler. “My balls are going to freeze in a few minutes.”
“Sorry. I was thinking of the perfect scenic view,” replied Loki. A bonfire appeared in the middle of the clearing and the wind’s strength lessened.
“Better?” asked Loki solicitously.
Tyler nodded, holding out his hands to the warmth of the flames.
“Thanks,” said the mage quietly.
“As I said, a very picturesque sight. To your left, the western lands of Skaney, with the added bonus of Ymir’s legions and the dokkalfr, and to the right are the fertile regions of the east. A much, much better proposition, now those rotting undead have been dealt with. I do hope they get buried. Otherwise, they’ll stink up the place.”
Tyler was becoming bewildered. Loki’s discussion was confusing, to say the least – talking about overthrowing the order of things and then concern about sanitation the next. The mage didn’t know if the trickster god was purposely being obtuse or merely demented, though the east reference intrigued him, not without a great deal of apprehension.
“What do you mean by east? Eastern Skaney, I suppose?” asked the mage.
“East is east. Though strictly speaking if one says west, there’s no south or north, is there? Everything is either east or west. Now, where were we? Ah, revolution. Adar-wide. Served on Loki’s silver, no, golden platter. The rise of man. New deities, benevolent, of course. A far lesser number of gods by the time it’s finished. Nicer ones too, I hope.”
“Benevolent? Ha. Just a set of new masters, with a high chance of being worse overlords,” remarked Tyler, still warming himself.
“Same dog, new collar wouldn’t do, Havard. It’s one of your fascinating First World sayings. If the new deities are not worth the change, then why not yet another revolution? And then another? Blood and war, violence and piety, destroy and rebuild. After all the ensuing chaos and mayhem, the trail of bodies, death, and destruction, I doubt if mortal man would be willing to believe in deities anymore. At least, in those that don’t deliver. The ordinary mortal might be gullible or even stupid, but even the most patient animal has limits.”
“You’d be surprised, Loki. But that’s it? Your grand purpose? Would that be worth all the deaths carried on your shoulders? I would say conscience, but that would be lying. What a moronic concept, excuse the term, repeating the same mess over and over again until those at the bottom refuse to have anything to do it anymore,” said Tyler.
“Oh, this part I like! The drama! The moral question! The bitterness! The intellectual and philosophical banter!”
The mage unbelievingly stared at Loki.
This bitch is insane.
“I know that look, First Mage. Remember, the great and wise made me what I am. From a god of mere mischief to a lord of evil. You could say they brought this on themselves. This is what evil does, am I right?”
“I don’t believe so,” slowly replied Tyler. “Mindless death and destruction are chaos, but not evil. Evil is a purpose unto itself. Without that, its existence becomes… pointless.”
“Ha! I do have a purpose. When the pantheons do finally fall, I shall savor my victory,” answered Loki with a smile. Though he did adopt a victorious pose with his right profile facing the mage.
“What purpose would your pointless war serve, if you admit it’s but exchanging old masters for new ones!” shouted Tyler in frustration.
“Sorry, but that’s one thing I can’t share. No lord of evil goes around announcing his purpose in life. That’s common sense.”
Oh, God. He’s not only insane but thinks of himself as a visionary. Probably the worst alternative – an insane visionary. I don’t know anymore. I can’t find the words to describe this pyscho. Batshit crazy? Nah, too mild.
“You think you’ve got a lunatic in front of you, Havard.”
Tyler’s jaw dropped. It was exactly what he was thinking.
“Now let me elucidate,” Loki’s tone changed to that of a teacher. A serious one, though the irritating half-smile remained.
“I am now at war. War is not an extension of politics. Rather politics is but an extension of war. And by that, we define war as a state of mind, consciously or unwittingly focused on the acquisition or attainment of certain properties or a specific purpose. You do understand that?” the deity asked as he paced to and fro, with his hands clasped at the back, in front of the still befuddled mage.
He’s turning everything upside-down, and I get a lecture on political philosophy?
“Mortal man is a creature created with an innate inclination to conflict, or war. Semantics and all that. There will always be competing goals or limited material wealth that would entice men to do the worst to their fellow men. Therein lies the test of mortals, to transcend such mortifications or remain as mere beasts clad in better raiment. The existence of extraneous beliefs chaining them down is a serious obstacle to such ascendancy.”
“Loki. You’re reducing all the useless deaths and devastation from your still-undeclared war to a philosophical argument. What you’re doing is a senseless and costly experiment in removing man’s belief in deities. It is marked by so many inconsistencies, copious bloodshed, and inestimable suffering that I doubt there would be anybody left to save in the end. That’s not right. It’s an abominable concept. I don’t think it’s too late to stop this madness. Stop it now,” entreated Tyler, half pleading and half arguing.
Given Loki’s extreme mood and mind swings, the mage had given up attempting to get the deity to see reason. Tyler knew it was a forlorn hope. Something in Loki
