Chapter 5

"Well... What do you have to say in your defense?" Lucifer's wrath burns like red-glowing orbs in his eyes. As he folds his burgundy cape around him, the golden embroidery on the fabric glistens in the glow of the fire roaring in the middle of the ill-lit forge. Scattered everywhere are pieces of unfinished metalwork and scrap metal that has been left to rust away. Tools used in the daily work of the dwarf’s lay scattered across the floor in an unorganized chaos.

Belial, Lucifer's brother, puts his pale hand on his brother's shoulder in an attempt to calm his fury against the two dwarves Sindre and Brokk, who are quivering under his intense glare.

"My lord, you're the one with the key," Sindre excuses himself, before running a trembling hand through his dark, bushy beard. "There's only one key to open the iron mask with."

"Yes, only one key exists and you have it," Brokk stutters, correcting the chainmail he wears over his stocky and powerful body. He is accustomed to harsh weather, the heat of the forges constant roaring fire that make them sweat profusely. He is also accustomed to hunger and powerlessness, but before Lucifer himself, he does not have enough strength for any form of resistance, especially when he unexpectedly visits their forge in Svartheim. They know that the punishment for betraying the dark lord is death.

"You didn't answer my question," Lucifer bellows. "Is there any other way to get the iron mask off Indra? Because if she finds another way to get rid of it, chances are very slim that I will manage to eliminate her from our universe."

"No, Your Majesty, only the key can open the iron mask," the brothers answers in unison.

Sindre and Brokk are the most prominent craftsmen ever to be among the dwarves – Sindre is the skillful one while Brokk is smart and determined – but not even their grand reputation can save them from Lucifer's ever-growing wrath.

The wind blows in through the gate that Lucifer left ajar when he arrived. Snow mixed with mud now splatters up against his cape. He runs a hand over the now soiled garment. He absolutely loathes when the expensive gold embroidered fabric on his cape becomes filthy.

"If you fail me, you will feel the sheer pain of every human father, mother, and child who has ever walked on this earth!" he roars, but his words almost get lost in the howling winds of the brewing storm outside.

Sindre fidgets nervously where he’s standing. "We're going to help you find her, I promise. We're not going to rest until you get her back. We will not rest until her heart has stopped beating, forever."

He and Brokk kneel in front of Lucifer, using their bodies to show their total submission.

Lucifer stares down at the two brothers before continuing to speak slowly and clearly so that they do not miss a single word of what he says:

"It is Indra who has cursed this world. Only her death can bring our salvation. Give me her eyes and I will forgive you for everything. Her eyes are all I want."

He turns towards the gate and disappears in a single soft, flowing motion. The only thing left behind is his characteristic sulfur-yellow, toxic fog.

Belial stands motionless, his black coat is in stark contrast to his porcelain white complexion. He quietly observes the two brothers, before giving them a word of warning. "Don't let fear stop you now – because if you fail this mission, there is no salvation. Give him what he wants and do it fast."

Belial follows his brother into the sulfur-yellow mist, leaving behind the faint smell of soot.

"Let's go to Asgard, brother," Brokk mumbles nervously. "We're going to have a little conversation with Indra's mother."

"I think that's wise." Says Sindre, wiping the shiny sweat from his weathered forehead.

"We must hurry before Lucifer tires and asks for our headson a silver platter," Brokk adds. "Let’s borrow Freyr's precious gift, Gyllenborst – the boar with the golden bristles. It can run across the sea and sky faster than the fastest horse."

"But do we dare to borrow Freyr's gift from God himself? Don't we risk being punished?"

Brokk sneers loudly. "What choice do we have? Let's just hope Freyr doesn't mind since our lives depend on it. And by the way, we do not have time to ask for permission."

Soon thereafter the two dwarves steer Gyllenborst at a maddening speed across the sky on their way to Asgard.