The Same Story For Different Fools - 27

Chapter Twenty Seven,
The Seven Dancing Coins of Yym
700 Years After Winter Arrived To Asgard
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Winter's white hair twisted boredly in the rising sun's rays, settling rebelliously across her features in tangles of mad children braidings. Ah, she speculated, her white eyes skimming the unending displays of golden architecture, all stretched high into the sky, sparkling and glittering proudly in the dual sunlight's proud start. How impressive, Winter thought to herself, a smirk quirking softly across her lips as she tossed the shimmering black stones into the open air.

If one was to be impressed by such things, that was.

The stones flipped and turned in mid air, their blackened shades fading to reveal a stark white, the runes stretching across the surface, dripping with a newly black ink. Reaching an expectant hand out, Winter caught the falling stones easily. Curious, despite herself, Winter spread her fingertips, revealing the four runes, each lying face up within her palm. Each, of course, facing opposite directions from one another.

With the four black runes prominently reading a single word.

Death.

How inconvenient, Winter thought with a drawn sigh, they're not even properly accurate.

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“Come along, Nire.” Winter gestured the blue alien from the bustling crowds that sprang upon his step, “My name is Nire Teludial ut' Krell! It's terribly rude to call me by my first name only!” He complained, striding to Winter's side with a rather sulky purple settling across his skin, accenting the soft blue of his flesh. “I'm a cruel, cruel woman.” Winter joked, smiling boastfully as she lifted a small black leather bag to his inquiring eyes. “I have a new trick to show you, I know how you adore them.”

Nire's features drained of entertained color, blending crossly into a rather annoyed, bland shade of gray.

“Hold your excitement, Nire.” Winter held up a hand, fingers spread in implorement, “I can hardly get a word out.” She expressed with a playful grin, showcasing the leather bag the size of one's palm with a rather expressive flourish of a hand, “These, are Direction Runes,”

Winter declared proudly before turning the bag in her hand, a thoughtful expression crossing her features for a moment as her eyes drew across the closed bag ponderingly, “I'm rather certain they have some OTHER rather intimidating name,” Winter admitted with a frown, “But I'll call them what I like.” She added, giving the item's subject a careless shrug, tossing them to the shocked hands of her Fiox companion, “They're rather simple, toss them into the air, and call out what you seek.” Winter explained, pointedly resting her hands at her sides, and expectant smile crossing her lips.

“Why are you giving them to me?” Nire frowned in suspicion, opening the bag curiously and pouring the blackened stones into his waiting palm already orange with curiousity.

“They won't work for me, sadly.” Winter gave an exaggerated shrug with a complaining sigh, “Apparently they have an issue with the fact that I'm giving Fate the old Double-Flip-Off.. Which is really a trouble, as-”

“You're WHAT?” Nire turned rather red with alarm, holding the stones within his palm as if they contained explosives. Winter laughed openly, “A hobby of mine!” She proclaimed with a wide grin, “I'm a rather impatient woman, I'll admit this. Come now! Throw the rocks and ask them where Thor is!” Winter demanded with a sly grin crossing her features, “What's the worst that could happen, eh?”

Nire heaved a deep sigh of eternal exhaustion, tossing the stones into the air with a dreading gray coloring settling across his flat features. “Lead me to Thor's travelling party.” Winter peered over his shoulder eagerly as the stones were caught, the man turning a rather bright and fluorescent pink upon her chin grazing his shoulder, “Hmm..” Winter pondered, skimming the direction of the runes a moment longer before stepping back, gesturing to the heading grandly, “That direction, ho!”

With that, Winter whistled loudly, signaling sharply through the air to her rather eccentric horse that rested across the city itself. Makeye charged from his pen, leaping over the very doors in a single bound, plowing down the many rather confusing roads of Asgard in a dedicated chase of the simple signal. Skidding to a stop, and with perhaps a Stable Master's back still attached to the bottom of his stamping hooves, Makeye drew himself up rather smugly upon the increasingly shorter times between the whistling, and the general appearance of a mighty, black horse.

“Wait! What do all these runes mean?” Nire demanded, holding out the runes as if afraid to shift them in any manner to the woman as she mounted the horse, despite the rather formal dress that took just a moment more patience than she had available. “Those?” Winter gave the runes a passing look, tossing a hand in a careless gesture, “They're just some meaningless fortune telling thing. You know, because soothsayers can't just leave something be, plain as it is. Everything's got to have some warning, that is, of course, only helpful after the smoke has settled.”

“Wait! What do they say?!” Nire turned a rather panicked red shade, stiffly holding the runed stones outward as if giving his very best impression of a forever stilled statue.

“Saddle up, my reluctant friend!” Winter proclaimed proudly.

“They've already got a day's head start on us,” Winter admitted with a thought as Nire gave a deep sigh, dropping the stones back into a bag before striding to Makeye's side, “But,” Winter thought aloud, outstretching a hand to the Foix at her side, heaving him to the back of the black horse, “Knowing Thor, they're probably circling by now.” Winter continued as the man settled behind her, a nervous, surprisingly tall thing, “We could catch them within the hour.” Winter finished confidently, patting the neck of Makeye onwards as Nire flailed this way and that, searching for a grip on a horse without either a saddle, or a bridle.

“Right, right.” Nire stumbled over his own tongue as Winter rolled her eyes, resting his hands upon her waist for stability, “But, ah..” He mumbled distractedly, “Why are we following Thor's traveling party, exactly?”

“They're about to be in grave danger, I can sense it.” Winter informed as Makeye charged down the paved streets of Asgard, separating the crowds with a black streak adorn with its two riders.

“You can sense that sort of thing?” Nire furrowed his brow, frowning at the very thought.

“Of course!” Winter laughed in mock shock at the idea of an inability to such a skill, “I'm a woman aren't I?” She answered shortly, tossing her head back pointedly as if that answered all questions. “I don't think women can-” Nire started, mouth slightly agap in confusion, dodging the loose strands of Winter's wind blown hair.

“Are YOU a woman?” Winter inquired, raising her voice over the speeding winds, the sounds of the slamming hoof beats pounding through the air and stealing the softer noises of the world greedily.

“No..”

“Then shut it.”

“Wait,” Nire started nervously as Makeye turned a sharp corner, hooves skidding on the carved designs intricately turning down the many streets of Asgard, “If they're in danger, and we're charging after, won't that mean..?” He continued dreadingly, leaning with Winter to allow such a tight curve.

“Adventure?” Winter inquired, turning upright as the curved ended, throwing a pleased grin over her shoulder, “Sword fighting? A chance to prove one's mettle? Undoubtedly.”

“The places you lead me..” Nire sighed deeply, miserable with the very idea of an adventurous day.

“The places you'll follow me!” Winter countered with a smirk, “A wonder, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Nire breathed out softly, closing his eyes in contentment, turning a rather loving shade of pink, “A wonder.” He muttered fondly, resting a chin upon Winter's shoulder.

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“Ho there, oh boat tending person!” Winter called in greeting, leaping from the horse before Makeye had entirely stopped, her green dress dripping behind her confident frame proudly, “When is it your ship departs?” Winter demanded, resting a hand upon the neck of the black horse at her side, leading the great creature and it's blue rider onto the creaking planks of the great long ship. The ship was adorn upon either side with buckles and shields, with the carved head of a fearsome dragon leaping from the very waves upon it's brow.

Ah, the idealism of the great beast of a legend. The dragon.

She'd never understood it, actually.

“Greetings, Lady Winter,” The short man tending to the sails hailed her formally, a grin crossing his features at her wide spread joking nickname, “You appear well-” He started, striding down the stained deck of the long ship.

“I'm feeling rather impatient today,” Winter cut him off, holding up a hand with a rather hefty sigh, “I would rather that you cut the tedious small talk short. So, I'll ask again, oh boat tending person. When. Do. You. Depart.” She demanded again, Nire leaned down nervously upon the horse, muttering to Winter, “Winter Mills ut' Midgard..” He started warningly.

“We depart on the morning's tide.” The man informed with a nod of the head, a likable sort of smile drawing across his features.

Winter spread her hands before her eyes for a moment, glancing down her dress assessingly, skimming her clothing for anything of value.

Ah, she thought sadly, a shame, but there was nothing for it. Giving a soft sigh, Winter plucked one golden braided earring from her right ear, lying it upon her palm with a hesitant look dashing through her features. Lying her off hand's palm over the treasured earring, the braids promptly untangled themselves, leaving a wake of golden coins topped with a sizable green gem. Dropping the riches into the shocked palm of the boat tender, Winter strode past, leading the horse and it's rider further onto the creaking timbers, “You'll depart now.” She informed curtly.

Ah, she thought miserably, her worried eyes drifting to the foaming sea lurching to the sides of the ship, rocking the timbers as a great beast toys with it's kill.

I hate the water.

“The things I'll do to watch over you.” Winter spoke softly, resting her hands behind her back tensely as she set her eyes upon the horizon.

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The problem with a Tarot Reader's stones was of course, that a bit of the Tarot Reader rubbed off on their surfaces over time. They produced useless answers, that seemed only a help after everything was said and done. Or, in a case such a this, answers that were an hour delayed.

How tremendously useful, Winter thought bitterly, her footsteps pounding the countless, ever winding stairs of Asgard's Palace. “Goddess-” Winter skipped a step, her dress billowing behind her, “-Be-” Her heeled footsteps slammed the polished gold greedily, “-Damned-” She swore, cursing the name of Tasaria.

“Is everyone completely mad around here?” Winter finished as she leapt to the top platform of the stairs, dashing down the halls without an interest to the Fiox alien at the foot of the wide stairway. Winter's hair, wild with the braidings of children, whipped this way and that as Winter tore her glance down the many countless halls, eagerly holding her breath for any sort of noise for a gathering.

Voices boomed from deep within the halls, clustering loudly over one another in panic. Brushing the stray strands from her features, Winter turned in the direction exasperatedly. Just a moment too late, of course, to dodge the running man bolting as if his life depended on it, slamming into the woman promptly.

“Oof!” Winter managed, resting a hand upon the carved wall to catch herself from falling, the man coming to a stumbling halt at her side. “Oi Loki! Are you on fire AGAIN?” Winter joked, painfully placing a hand to her aching skull, “What's the hurry?”

“I made a bet,” He explained hurriedly, “Admittedly it was not my brightest idea.” He admitted, peering past Winter in a search for a pursuer. “We shall speak another time. When my head's not on the line.” Loki added as thundering footsteps filled the hall, bolting down the hall once more.

Winter frowned in bafflement at the very idea of such an idiotic action as to bet one's life upon a simple word. “What the hell kind of bet did you MAKE?” Winter shouted after the man as he turned a corner, disappearing from view.

“I told you that it wasn't my brightest idea!”

Winter rolled her eyes with a hefty sigh, raising a hand to lightly trail her fingers across her aching temples. Stopping, a grin slipped over Winter's features upon noting the hanging drapery that decorated the winding halls. Giving a pleased sort of smile, Winter strode down the hall, eyes settled upon the wound silk dripping down the hall. Winter's gaze shifted softly as her eyes narrowed in calculation, striding across the hall to a rather intricately carved storage closet door.

Popping her lips in thought, Winter swung the door open, drawing a short and ornate stick from one of her bottom less pouches. Twirling the weapon between her fingertips, the wood unfolded with sharp snaps and wild swings. Now as tall as the woman herself, the staff was promptly set upon it's end, holding the door open generously.

The slamming persuing footsteps drew nearer with every passing moment, echoing through the long halls proudly. Reaching to her belt, Winter pulled the string of the black leather bag open, pouring the four Direction Stones onto the polished stone. Pointedly, Winter strode quite the distance from the discreet stones, drawing a short viking's blade from her belt. Expertly, Winter balanced the wooden hilt between her fingers, eyes locked down the brightly illuminated hall.

Thor's rather large, muscled form bolted down the hall, clearly in pursuit of his younger brother. Snapping her wrist, Winter threw the blade to the drapery in a sliver of shimmering tarnished silver. The golden strands frayed and released from their own weight, drifting lazily into the blonde man's features. Giving a shout of surprise, Thor swung an arm wide, shoving the drapery aside firmly.

His booted foot found it's way to the stones, unbalanced by a lack of foreknowledge. Taking the opportunity, Winter snapped a strong kick to the back of his knee, bringing the man to a stumble, sliding further on the stones. The polished floor served no help, throwing the man bluntly into the thin staff, which abruptly snapped, slamming the door behind him.

“Whoops!” Winter mocked a soft gasp, striding over to the door, locking it abruptly with a long, thick staff across the doorway. Turning her back to the pounding on the door, Winter gave a soft shrug, “Ah, well.” She raised a hand, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically, “Accidents happen.” She allowed with a grin, striding down the polished flooring, leaving the black stones to the pounding door that began to buckle under the blows.

The great hall was field to the brim with the countless higher ranking Asgardians who had long since found their way into the legends of the Norse. A feat that was rather impressive, when one thought of it, seeing as the ordeal concerning the Norse meeting the Asgardians had only happened a few weeks ago.

The golden clad Asgardians spoke over one another in a roar of deafening sound, turning upon one another over some topic. The very same topic, one would suspect, that Frigga spoke with Odin over, her features imploring, and his set firmly.

Well, this couldn't be good.

Winter raised a hand, pressing her fingers to her lips before whistling loudly, the sharp sound slicing through the air. The air grew silent, hushed in interest, eyes resting near accusingly at Winter's form. Giving a grin, Winter spread her arms, “Now,” She called loudly, her voice echoing down the hall with confidence, “Who can I interest in some good old fashioned Common Sense? I've heard about this bet, show me who won.” Winter demanded, her gaze drifting over the large crowd distantly

“That would be me.” A victorious looking dwarf stepped forward, “What is it you are suggesting, trader?”

“I'll buy his bet from you.” Winter proclaimed with a pointed look.

“I'm not interested.” The dwarf announced.

“Well,” Winter gave a cunning sort of smirk, slipping a single coin from her belt, flipping it between her fingers with a sparkle of silver, “That's only because you haven't heard my offer yet.” She pointed out, flipping the shimmering coin into the air. The dragon emblem moved animatedly through the metal's bindings, shifting to evade the confines imprinted to it, gnashing it's claws with a fierce roar slicing through the stilled air.

“I hear that dwarves rather like treasure.”

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“Are you going to miss those treasures?” Loki inquired curiously, striding from one of the halls to Winter's back. Winter gave a sigh, her gaze shifting from the balcony's rather splendid view of the horizon to the man behind her with a smirk, “Oh,” She started, waving a careless hand as if speaking of trivial things, “Why, the Seven Dancing Coins of Yym?”

Winter's grin spread, recalling the spun tale with a flourish, “The coins of very legend that when aligned to the Hell Caster markings and spun upon the end, rose dragons from their metal confines, to protect the city of Yym from all danger?” She gave a faint sort of smile, shaking her head softly as she turned back to the marvelous view of setting gold and rising hues of nearly every color settling over the many buildings of Asgard. “Not in the least.”

“Are you certain?” Loki asked, settling to stand beside Winter, eyes cast upon a view seen all too many times before.

“They were simple coins,” Winter gave a careless shrug, “Trivial things.”

Loki leaned forward slightly, resting his hands behind his back absently as he skimmed Winter's expression, “They were yours.” He expressed as if that made things simple.

“That is true.” Winter allowed, giving a soft sort of smile, resting her arms upon the balcony's railing, leaning against it in thought, “I wouldn't have offered them if I wasn't willing to give them up.” Winter dismissed with a fond sort of grin.

“I see.” He thought aloud plainly, reaching into the inside of his over coat, producing four black stones with stretching white runes painted across their surfaces. “These are yours.” He informed, offering the runes to Winter with a knowing look.

“Mm?” Winter glanced over interestedly, “Ooh, my VERY shiny rocks.” She exclaimed jokingly pleased, plucking the stones from his palm, “Now..” Winter pondered aloud, “Where ever DID I leave these?”