48 Sorcerer Thor Part III

Selene watched the man across from her, he was young and handsome, younger than herself. But as she knew from experience, one could not judge the age of someone purely based on their appearance. She had come to him as an old and decrepit woman, yet he had seen through her illusion with ease.

He could be as young as he looked, or have found the secret to eternal youth, or perhaps wearing an illusion of his own. She would not be able to tell, not just yet. He, the man who had given no name, had not told her what he would teach her.

All he had done was release her, entering into the little cabin and once again going about and drawing a vast runic symbol upon the floor. The bodies he had inside were dissected with precision, their bones, organs and blood being used to forge it. Selene found herself watching with morbid curiosity, having never witnessed something like it before in her life. He moved calmly and carefully, yet his movements were quick, precise and practised.

This was not the first time he had done something like this, that much was clear.

"Are you curious?" He said, placing a heart in one of the corners, hands caked in dried blood, feet lightly moving and not touching any of the lines made from blood. "You asked to learn yet you have asked no questions?"

'So he is going to teach me?' She had wondered if that was the case when he raised no complaints when she followed him inside. "What are you doing?"

"I am building a ritualistic circle." He responded simply, giving no more information than that.

"A circle for what?"

He turned, smiling. "There is more than one realm that exists in this world. Each with its own unique creatures and powers. This circle will be my way of opening a rift to those dimensions."

But again the question was, why?

Why would he want to do something like that?

Yet as Selene had quickly realised if she did not ask he would not answer. He, whoever he was, was not the kind of man to provide answers unless she asked the right questions. "Why do you want to open a rift?"

This time he did not answer and she wondered why. Did she not ask the right question? No, she was certain that she had, so then why did he not respond? Unless he had already told her the answer and she had not realised it.

As soon as that thought came to her mind, Selene reviewed what he had told her and the answer was glaringly obvious. There was only one reason people like he and her would do something like this, it was the same reason they took the souls of the people they encountered.

"Power."

"Correct." He smiled. "Power is the answer to everything. With it, we can do anything we desire, the only problem is how do we acquire it. That is something people of all races have tried to find the answer to but only a small few succeed. Some are gifted with innate power." That was who Thor Odinson was, a man blessed with great potential and often only realised it in moments of need. "Others spend their lives searching for it, an arduous journey which often isolates them from everyone around them." That was the story of Loki Laufeyson. "And others, find power in strange places, but must sacrifice something to gain it." And that was the man who put him in this position in the first place, Odin.

"Selene. You came to me to learn." Here he rose up, blood still wet upon his fingers. "And I am more than willing to give it to you, but it does not come without a price."

"I am willing to pay whatever price I must." She responded firmly.

"It is often easy to say such a thing, without understanding the true cost." He chuckled, hand reaching out and Selene fought the instinct within her that screamed at her to move. "But if you're so determined, then who am I to refuse."

His fingers pressed against her skin, just below her throat and above the valley of her breasts. Then trailed them down, to the sides and curved them around, inscribing a rune upon her skin in the blood of the villagers. Selene has no idea what it could mean or what it would do, all she could do was look into his eyes as they stared into her own.

"We are devourers, you and I, Selene." He told her. "We devour those around us for our own means. Whether it be for personal desire or simply to satisfy an urge. But, as Midgardians, we are limited by the weaknesses of our bodies. We can only absorb so much of the souls we take before it destroys us and so, we must cast out a great deal, only taking a fraction of what we could have had. I can teach you how to take it all, but I would be a fool not to know that one day, you might turn against me."

Selene could have argued that she would not betray him, but it would be a lie.

She was a selfish woman, ruled by her desires just as he seemed to be. One day, in the future near or distant, once she had learned what she needed from him and when he had served his purpose, she would discard him. Take his soul for herself and use that to empower her to even greater heights.

That was simply who she was and he knew it.

Finishing off the rune, he pulled his hand away and smiled. "This rune will stop you from being able to harm me. A little precaution, but one I do hope will be unnecessary." Both of them highly doubted it. "I will teach you magic, I will teach you how to absorb the souls of a person in its totality and not a fraction of it. But that is all I will give you."

He never said what he wanted.

That's what worried Selene.

Not knowing what he wanted or desired from her.

If she did, she could prepare herself, but without knowing, she couldn't.

He then turned away and extended his arms out, magic lighting up the runic symbol upon the floor as the cabin glowed a bright red. The two of them stood on the edge, Selene raising one hand to cover her face slightly from the light as she watched the floor become pitch black, the bones and organs sinking into the abyss and out from it, a strange little creature rose up.

It was small, but unlike any creature Selene had ever laid eyes upon before.

Yet whereas as she paused to look upon it in wonderment, he extended one hand and began feasting upon its soul. The creature shrieked and fought against the magic that ravaged its body and tore apart its soul. But it was weak and unable to resist, its soul and the power within it rushing into his body.

He groaned out, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small cylinder-shaped object which glowed brightly as he funnelled the excess power he could not absorb into it. Once again beginning to refill its empty contents.

Moments later, the creature dropped to the floor; dead.

He dropped to one knee, gasping and panting heavily. But he smiled widely, that creature, small and weak it may have been, had possessed more magical power than all of the villages inhabitants combined. He had used their souls to forcibly accelerate his bodies growth and then to strengthen it beyond the norm. However, it was not enough, magic would be the way in which he could truly grow more powerful.

These creatures, Imps from the Splinter Realms, inhabit many of its dimensions, upper and lower. The weakest of the beings that resided within them and therefore, perfect for him at this point in time. As his power grew, he would then focus on stronger ones but right now, he did not possess the power necessary to defeat them.

However, he had begun the formations of a name.

It was a unique name, but one that had been forgotten by many, Gods and mortals alike. An ancient beast that devoured Gods and all in its path. An existence so powerful and terrifying that even Gods feared to speak its name and had wiped it from history.

A name that Loki had found purely by accident.

A name that perfectly exemplified exactly what he would become.

Demogorge.