Duncan& Divinity

It was not anything Logan even slightly expected or understood.



The moment he’d took that hand was also the moment. Logan was wrapped in something not of Jotunkind. It was not the Rune craft but power all the same. They were borne aloft. A pillar of light drew them speeding away from heaven’s glow. He could feel it flicker, fade and not with a scream.

But a whisper of finality. He could feel it perish. Deep in his gut. Deeper still in his eitr he could feel it keenly.



Flecks and motes of light streaked past them. They landed with a mighty radiant glow. Logan’s feet buckled.



“W-what was that?” He asked as he trembled he hated how terrified he sounded. “That was the death knell, the funeral bell of an entire realm.” The angel of had taken his hand.



“What would’ve happened...” Logan found that he a Jotun couldn’t finish the thought. Raids were a fact of life but a whole realm gone? Nothing left? It was an absolute waste. The utter destruction defied his understanding, his world view and perspective.



“All of existence would have suffered the same.” The commanding angel bade. “There are... Better Heavens.”



Logan balked. “I- I don’t understand.”



“Of course you do not understand. Your utter incuriousity nearly doomed us all. You spinach eating crayon devouring idiot!”



A voice admonished. As great gates were flung open. An alien sky, a foreign night poured in as the angels turned.



“Duncan?” The angels jerked as if struck at Logan’s pronouncement. Some of them bolted. Even the commanding angel looked taken back as if gripped with a sudden potent spirit breaking dread.



“Commander, You are relieved. Do retire for the evening and comfort your brethren. There is no... Shame in it. I have it from here.” It was a voice similar... Close to his husband’s own. A slight difference in inflection. Or was a speech pattern?

The commanding angel saluted and hurried into the night. Eager to be gone.



“Well you spent alot of effort to get me here.” Logan stated as soft feathery rime ice traced upon the floor. Glossy marble polished to mirror like sheen.



He looked around. The architecture and sheer style was completely unknown.



Logan past the great gates that slammed shut heavily behind him.



“Its good to see you Logan.” The matronly voice was disarming and set him to ease.

His etir pulsed at the familiar woman. She towered over him clad in a dress of star and moon touched dress of the night sky.



The one.... The only.



“Nyx.”



The uncanny feeling of a visage created to comfort you. Being a little too... comforting. She had no eyes but wells of illimitable wells of ceaseless black. She towered over him in all the ways that mattered and quite a few that didn’t.



Logan nodded his head respectfully. The only one there when Duncan and he were quietly wed. She spoke without speaking. Her lips did not move but he understood her all the same.



She held out her hand as she half turned with perfect poise. Beyond queenhood, beyond empress. She was night incarnate.

Logan took her hand as she lead him deeper into this facility. Building? Structure of unknown purpose?

“You will speak with Meta. But, first he’ll forgive our own conversation is past due.”



“Events have certainly spiraled out of control. When mine own children show up on the doorstep of my own home. Seeking comfort and shelter.” Nyx bade.



How do you know my titan husband?” Logan asked as Nyx’s stride stopped as the air trembled. It took him a moment to realise she was laughed for a moment. As she took a thoughtful step.



“I can see where that misconception has arisen. Elder deity he is. The hour is late Logan. Later than you know. No, dear Logan. No.”



“Titan implies descent. Titan implies defeat. Dear Logan.”



“And despite my best efforts. I cannot say he has been bested. No, not even from me.”

Nyx admitted. “ I can say... I’m not proud of our disagreements. Our... battles and wars. But what was a mother to do? Yet in time... He reared my children without complaint.... Hm... How to explain... Him.”



“It is important for you to understand. Your lack of curiosity is in many ways noble. But not now. Now clarity is needed.” She snapped her fingers.



“It would be more accurate to state your dear husband would be best described as Ymir’s contemporary,” Nyx spoke and for a moment. Logan heard the words and he stumbled as it hit him.



“Surely not? He’s elder deity in retirement.” Logan chuckled nervously.



“Enlighten me dear Logan. How is it possible for the god of the wilds of the underworld retire? Places where even I fear to tread? Oceans of oblivion, nameless things that crawl and slither.” For a moment, she looked at him expectantly. Demanding an answer they both knew he couldn’t provide.



Logan trembled as Nyx stopped and turned to him and approvingly. Nyx brushed his cheek softly.



“He told me a name.” Logan whispered and Nyx tenderly placed his hands over his mouth. “I have no doubt he has many names and many epithets.”



“Loving another is the hardest thing one can do. Logan.” She paused. “You do it so well.”



“We aren’t like our descendants Logan. Never will be O descendant of Ymir.”



Nyx bade as she pointed. “Meta Awaits you.” Logan turned to speak to Nyx.



He was alone.



Logan took a breath and walked in.





It was a massive spherical room and there was but one being in upon a dais. Chiseling crystal beneath an alien sky.



“I was wondering when you were going to turn up.” Meta stated and they didn’t take their eyes off what they were doing. Even from a distance Logan had to blink at the familial resemblance. Where Duncan was short. Meta was broad and tall.



“Saving your ass, Logan. I have better things to do than save you. Having to break into the realm of a demented and deluded mad god.” Meta bade as he stilled as he put down his chisel and picked up a clay tablet.



“I was under the impression that Pazuzu was his eldest son.” Logan said. Meta sighed as he stood and faced Logan properly.



“Before.”



“Before?” Logan asked.



“Yes, Before you idiot.” Meta stated lightly.



“Before rhythmed time, Before light took its first steps in another existence entirely and revealed what was. I am not of his terrestrial loins.”



Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You know Pazuzu.” Logan stated and the brief smile was all the confirmation he needed.

“I won’t call you stepfather, if that is what you’re after Jotun. Not when I am a product of his hands!”



“I am Meta, Scribe of Maker!”



“Who is Maker?” Logan demanded. Meta shivered and flinched. For a moment, he looked like Duncan.



His voice went low. “She is a monster. I don’t say that lightly.” Logan blinked at the conviction behind that pronouncement.



“She’s not here?” Logan asked. “You should be grateful Logan. You would put her to the sword for what she’s done. But no, Maker has never stepped foot in this universe. This creation. I would know I’ve checked.” Meta’s voice went winter without Christmas.



“Not Maker?” Logan asked. “Come now, Dear Logan. This is your fault you know.” Meta stated.



“My fault?” Logan responded, confused. “You were the one who married a higher being.” Meta reminded softly.



“Yeah, yeah. I’ll set a seat this christmas. Were going to have to have outside christmas this year.” Logan muttered absently to himself.



Meta had frozen. “Would you really set a place for me?” Meta asked and Logan was surprised to see the open longing.



“You uh, have a lot of siblings. I’m coming to learn.” Logan remarked, he wasn’t displeased. While his husband might be content to leave them on their own. Clearly, that wasn’t the correct choice. The ties between Duncan and his brood were clearly tighter than he assumed. Not so easily dissolved, not so easily frayed.



“I think you can help me with something.” Meta bade. “What can I do?” Logan asked honestly.



“The war between angel and Duncan MUST end. It has done nothing but bring out the worst in them both.”



“He did call it a turkey shoot.” Logan admitted. Pity was written upon Meta’s face. “They don’t know he was part of their Origin.”



Logan rubbed his head feeling a headache come on. He saw that pity. “You’ve been hiding them.” Logan stated and the look of guilt confirmed his guess.

“The Angelic Council would like to believe they have the majority. The fallen are too far gone but... Yes. I served on Maker’s shoulder. I strove to amplify her good ideas. Stoke her non-existent conscience. Here, in the dwarf galaxy that’s currently beneath yours.”



“The welcome golden glow of a steady sun. My creator has a particular favorite for calm and resolute suns. Over the irritable and frankly unworthy shine of that Sol. I created this system from scratch as a sanctuary. A star with a single elysium world.”



“You’re like a reverse Wheatley!.. You were her conscience.” Logan felt sick, the pang of dread at what that implied.



“You overestimate what I can do.” Logan said. “A marine daddy’s cumdump.” Meta retorted. Logan flushed he felt the eitr flush his face in embarrassment.



“Ah... You... Know about... That.” Logan put a hand on the back his neck. Logan found he couldn’t meet Meta’s expectant gaze.



“His beloved grandson was publicly executed. His false equivalence, the misbegotten granddaughter Lucrezia Morningstar..”



Meta’s judgmental gaze landed squarely on him. “And you. You who have absolutely no clue on what is important in Midgardian Lands. You Lazy Stateborn.”



“Where do I start? Where? Or... Whom? Tell me Logan. Have you ever met Jophiel?” Meta’s face changed as his eyes suddenly shot upwards towards that alien sky.



“Late is the hour indeed! These be the final heartbeats. The final seconds of a countdown that cannot be averted.” Meta responded solemnly.



“Of what?” Logan asked even as he felt his stomach drop. A slow insipid pang of dread dredged up inside like a forgotten flower.



“You knew your husband has a terrible temper.” Meta stated softly. “Fear not Logan. There was nothing you can do to prevent this. It’s been building for quite awhile now. Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. At long last his patience at its end. What comes next is on them and on them alone.”



His eitr roiled painfully in his veins and Logan dropped to his knees. “I let him know you were with me. Probably delayed it by a few hours. He’s not someone you want to panic.” Meta shrugged.



“We’re fine, Almost everybody else is just Fucked.” Meta’s voice held a note of morbid jubilation.



“The stars!” Logan gasped as his eitr rancorously thundered in his chest like a malevolent churning ocean.



At first, he rubbed his eyes but it was not some trick of light. A terrible black spilled over this alien sky.



“Don’t clench.” Logan looked at Meta. As an ironclad punch dropped him to his hands. Bile crawled up his throat to splatter against the floor.



Logan rasped heavily. He tasted Eitr, he felt it flow from his eyes. A cacophonic, horrid screech immune to the airless void.



“I told you not to clench. Logan. Now I have to clean the floor!” Meta lamented. “Don’t you dare faint. I don’t want to have to wash you as well!”



The gate was flung open. “Meta!”



The sounds of footsteps thundered in. “Meta!”



As Meta was mobbed by angels. “Shh. It’s alright, Commander.” As Meta calmly wrapped his arms comfortingly around a golden armored man.



“We planned for this commander. “Lockdown everything like we’ve drilled for a thousand times before.” Meta released him and took another in a soothing embrace.



“Come on, Its just the day of wrath long a fated.”



The commander back up for a moment. His halo flared. “Maker lied to us.” A voice of horror.



“We have another besides Maker.” Another angel stated. Meta held his hand and they stepped back.



“Once everything is locked down. Rest. Restless Grace will settle in time.” Meta dismissed and slowly everything settled down and they all filed out.



Meta slowly got Logan to his feet. “Come, You must rest and recover. Worry not, many hours left before the golden dawn. I’ll clean the floor.”



Dimmly, Logan touched the most comfortable sheets and most welcome bed. He slipped into a welcome sleep.



Nightmares danced in tiptoes and lockstep with horrible things.



Enough.



Logan sat up, a steady current of whispers and the highly disconcerting feeling his was being watched, analyzed and catalogued far past his jockstrap size. Into a realm that even the most dystopian tyrant could only touch themselves in their wildest imaginings!

The highly invasive perversion of the concept of privacy unnerved him. Perhaps Duncan had a point to mainly stick to his wild acres. This supposed sanctuary was a panopticon!

Gone was any concept of safety. This was a prison!



He kinda prefered that heaven. At least there was music!



Logan tensed as the horizon brightened. “Back! Back I say! You are angels not a flock of seagulls!” Meta barked as he slid into Logan’s abode.



The protracted sigh coming from Meta’s lips. Logan swayed as Meta snapped his fingers and Logan dropped suddenly onto another bed.



“Welcome to my personal suite. My apologies Logan. I had forgotten. “



“Forgotten?” Logan whispered blurrily. “Maker Is very much a Queen Bee.”



“They can sense your hierarchical position. Its... confusing them. I’ll be honest. I don’t know how the archangels stand it. No wonder Jophiel ran the hearbeat she could.”



“So you brought me to the center of the hive?!” Logan blurrily spat.



“Sleep.” Meta retorted and before Logan could reply.



A warm golden glow. Logan awoke to a peculiar yet welcome sight. A strange yet wholesome golden glow washed him over.



“If you won’t respect what privacy means by providental edict then perhaps the sanctity of broken bones will suffice!” There was a sickening crack. A shriek followed by a thunderously finality slamming door.



“Ah! Of course, you’re awake.” Meta stated sourly.



“Is it morning?” Logan wondered honestly. He’d never been on another world before.



“My garden does not operate on a twenty-four-hour basis. Unfortunately. I had to balance the inner core manually.”



“You did it by hand?” Logan asked dumbly and winced.



“One doesn’t truly appreciate their creator until you walk in their footsteps.” Meta shrugged. “In any case, I’d like you try to find a perfect star for this sort of thing.” Wistful nostalgia upon his face.



A face that so close his Duncan and yet not quite. “What was it like?That... Other place?”



Meta went silent. “I’m sorry for the silence its just... Hard to compress eons and murdered realities. How to... I suppose we’d have to start at the beginning.” Logan’s stomach growled.



Meta chuckled. ‘I’ll make breakfast. Duncan usually beats me to it. Last to sleep, first to wake is so unfair.” Logan lamented.



“Sounds like him.” Meta nodded as he held out his hand. “Come, eat and then bathe. I will not have my honor besmirched having his husband dressed in rags.”



Meta turned took a step and then turned. “Logan, If I do this... You have to promise me one thing.”



“What?” Logan asked.



“Pay attention! I’m only going to do this once. If I even think you’re beginning to waiver. I will slap the shit out of you.”