Darkness, it was everything Loki could see. It was so thick that it consumes everything and so deep that he did not know where the darkness ended and he started.
When Loki let go of Gungnir, he had been prepared to die, but what he did not predict, was that his magic kept him alive, condemning him to wander through the space between the worlds, falling into an interminable motion.
He was a monster, and his sentence was established by that void; he was going to be consumed little by little until all that was left of him was nothing more than a glimpse of life, the shell of what was once a man.
He falls for so much time that even this one lost its meaning. It was in that void that he thought he had lost what little sanity he had left.
Until he forgot that there was once light, touch or happiness.
He who no longer had a name or soul wondered how he had arrived at this point? How was it that everything had gone so wrong?
Having already lost all hope, suddenly something changed.
The speed of his fall, which had been a constant throughout all this time, began to accelerate and an unbearable heat hit his senses, when before he had only felt a gelid cold.
Then came the blow, one so strong and strident that he thought he had died at last.
An intense and painful light penetrated his eyes. They were not used to anything other than darkness.
It was there that he realized he was still alive, he could still feel pain, and death, he had supposed, would have ended his torment.
"Where am I?" He thought.
When he regained his vision, he could see a large crater surrounding him, and outside it a glimpse of a sandy wasteland.
He lay there for a long time, still stunned by the blow.
When he felt the thin mist that covered his thoughts disperse, he felt more able to assess his situation.
It caught his attention to discover that he could not feel anything below his neck. It was as if the muscles and skin that once formed part of his body, no longer existed.
Still, he tried to move them, only to reaffirm their complete uselessness.
He knew what that meant, he must have broken his spine. Not feeling parts of your body has never been a good sign.
He realized that he was not terrified of being paralyzed, as he should have. Maybe the fall had affected his nerves too?
Continuing with his analysis, he remembered that he was carrying a bag of provisions tied to his body but quickly realized that not being able to reach them was the same as having nothing.
"Well, sustenance is not a possibility then," Loki thought.
Without having anything better to do, he concentrated again on his surroundings.
According to his position, he had a direct view towards the sky, which he noticed, was of a bluish atmosphere.
"I guess I'm lucky, I could have landed somewhere worse, someplace without oxygen for example… "
He tried to guess the name of the realm he was in.
"Vanaheim, perhaps? No, the gravity force is not the same. Svartalfheim? No, the type of soil is different"
In the distance, almost out of his angle of vision, he could glimpse some vegetation. It was far from abundant and it was almost dry, but he recognized it as Midgardian.
"Such irony! Landing on the same planet to which my brother was banished... "
His train of thought inevitably veered to that place that had once called his home and the people who in another life had been his family.
"Nobody will ever find me here. Surely, they think I'm dead…"
It was not as if that reflection distressed him. The truth was that Loki had no desire to see them, he felt that at last, he had finished with them.
Even if he could come back, he would not be welcome, that was never his home, to begin with.
When Loki let go Gungnir, he had made the decision to die because he thought there was nothing left for him in Asgard.
All his life he had tried to fit in, to be what his father and his people expected, but his nature invariably got in the way.
He always knew there was something wrong with him, only that he was not sure what it was.
He could never reach his expectations, and, many despised him for it.
He tried to change, to be like most, but later than sooner, he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be different in their eyes.
That revelation awoke an intense aversion against his people. He proposed to himself to make pay everyone who had despised him.
He was going to show everyone that he was not someone that could be taken lightly, he was not going to be mocked by anyone.
His personality then changed. He began to withdraw into himself and in his studies of magic.
On the outside, he acquired the facade of someone aloof and controlled, but on the inside, he was someone suspicious and distrustful.
He turned rhetoric into a weapon against anyone who confronted him and planned discreet revenge against those brave enough to become his enemy.
Soon, rumors began to spread. They called him many things, including the god of deceit, god of bad luck, and even Ergi.
The problem in this kind of situation is that if a person is told something for a sufficient amount of time,
there comes a point where inevitably a part of him begins to believe what is being affirmed. And Loki despite all his apathy, was not indifferent to this rule. He became his reputation.
And then, he started to play a role, he was always good at that. However, where did the performance end and the real Loki begin? He did not know it anymore.
After a while, the role was already part of his personality.
At this point, even the close relationship with his not-brother was affected.
Thor was someone bright and loved by everyone, everything that Loki would never be and that made him win his most complete grudge.
He did not want to be just a shadow, the dark part that was projected from all that light.
Thor, in spite of all his virtues, was, in fact, a blind person.
He never saw the true origin of his brother's hatred and when faced with his negative change of personality, he simply walked away.
All this resentment finally settled on the day of the coronation and all the events that would later be unleashed.
Loki recognized himself, that when he discovered his true origin, he had completely lost it.
He felt such a deep hatred against the world and against himself that he had even gone so far as to want to exterminate an entire race, only to prove that he was not one of them.
“Well, there was no point in thinking about that. Those were reminiscences of someone else, a person who had been lost forever in the void”
He stayed there for a long time, in that forgotten wasteland. He hoped that by then his magic would have healed him, but it was not the case.
He felt it flutter inside him, but he could not call it, it was as if it simply refused to make his appearance.
"Maybe my magic, like me, does not see any purpose in healing me," he reflected. "It's possible that it thinks that by not doing so, it's doing the universe a favor.
I should have died in that void. Actually, I should have perished in Jotunheim, in that temple where I was left by Laufey to rot. Everything must have ended there.
It would have been a suitable destine for a monster like me" «To be continued»