Tryg had returned to the labyrinth shortly after being healed. His recovery had taken time, but physically, he was now ready to return and face the dangers protecting Ivaldi's Workshop. However, that was not his objective.
After reaching the initial chamber and getting rid of the monsters that appeared there, Tryg did not follow the corridor ahead, nor any of the side passages. He simply sat in the snow, watching the small crystal object he had placed on the ground finish its process.
It was a little smaller than his hand and formed by two transparent cones, one above and one below, connected by their tips at the center. Through there, fine flakes of snow fell gradually.
Tryg had never seen anything like it. Sinmara had called the object an hourglass when she handed it to him, briefly explained how it worked, and asked him to turn it over inside the labyrinth, waiting until all the flakes from the upper cone had passed into the lower one.
Honestly, Tryg found it hard to believe that it would have any result. Yes, Sinmara had no reason to deceive him like that. But even so...
In any case, he had agreed to the test; he was eager to investigate and discover anything he could about that mad complex of rooms and corridors, after all.
"Done."
When the process ended, Tryg picked up the object and returned the way he had come. Since he had not gone through any corridor, no door had closed and no change had occurred in the labyrinth; it was not difficult to find the exit. A few seconds later, he was already back at the colossal gate connected to the bridge of Týr's Temple. Sinmara was farther ahead, leaning against the edge of the bridge, with another hourglass beside her. Its upper cone... was still full of snow.
Tryg quickened his pace to stand beside the queen, who stared at him without any visible emotion.
She raised an eyebrow. "You truly waited until all the snow had fallen?"
"Yes." He nodded. "You said that when the process ended, an hour would have passed, correct? How much time passed here?"
She picked up the hourglass and raised it before her eyes. "Three minutes. Four at most."
"What?! How is that possible?"
The queen shrugged, disintegrating the hourglasses back into the snow and mist that composed them. "I am almost certain the reason for this temporal difference is the mist inside. Now, the reason why it is that way, I have no idea. Fimbulwinter altered it, that much is certain, but its magic is very old, too old for even me to know its nuances. Surtr might have known, but..."
She fell silent and stared at the bridge floor, her eyelids heavy.
"I'm sorry..." Tryg said.
Sinmara remained silent for another moment, then looked at him with a question in her gaze. "Well then... What will you do now?"
Despite the sorrow he felt seeing her like that, Tryg was excited by the new information and curious to know the reasons behind the temporal difference. But the reasons behind the mist's alteration were not important. At that moment, what mattered was that it existed; that, inside the labyrinth, the hours ran faster than they did outside.
If he was not mistaken, two months walking through the labyrinth's mists would be equivalent to only a few days in the real world. It was still a long time, of course — too long for his mother to keep waiting — but it was far less than it should have been. Tryg could spend weeks investigating and fighting without losing weeks away from her.
That said, the most immediate problems remained. First, the labyrinth's shifting mechanism; and second, the monsters that appeared in its chambers. The first, he would eventually solve by calmly studying the changes in the corridors. The second, however, would be far more complicated.
Maybe... he thought, bringing his fingers to his chin, remembering the green flames some of the undead fired. If Tryg could move efficiently across the battlefield, perhaps he could trick his enemies into hitting one another. According to Sinmara's explanation, if he managed to make a Nightmare strike a Revenant with a magical blast, for example, she would become tangible and Tryg could kill her.
Yeah, it might work. It was risky, but possible. Sure, there would be other enemies later, enemies perhaps even more insidious, more deadly than the witch. But Tryg would do the same with them: analyze, flee if necessary, think, and, at last, face them.
He nodded. "I'm going back to the labyrinth. I think I know a way to defeat that Revenant, but I'll need to practice my idea. In any case, the longer I stay in there, the less time I'll lose and the faster I'll get back to my mother."
Sinmara narrowed her eyes, impatient. "How can you be so foolish?"
Tryg blinked. "Um..."
"Time is still time. Though the world out here will not feel the difference, you will. Your body will. Your mind will."
She exhaled, then continued, "Besides, even if you have discovered a way to defeat a Revenant, other enemies will appear. Not to mention the fact that you are still nowhere near discovering how the labyrinth works. Return, and you will get lost again, perhaps even forever. And if you think I will keep saving your skin, you are very mistaken. I may not have much to do, but I have no intention of being anyone's mother."
...She's right. Even if he returned, even if he had all the time in the world, the complex's changes only began after the fifth chamber, as he told Sinmara when he summarized what had happened to her.
As a matter of fact, he was not even sure of that; on his next attempt, the doors could very well close in an earlier or later room. Not to mention the fact that even the first change was already disorienting enough to confuse him completely.
The point was that, in the end, to understand the labyrinth, Tryg would have to get lost. Consequently, he could not return; he could not leave, restock his supply of Idunn Fruits, and try again, not without another of Sinmara's jewels. Perhaps he could survive without healing, simply avoiding being hit as much as possible and then resting and treating himself in an area he had already cleared. But it would be, at the very least, arduous.
And there was also the problem of time. Three days enduring the end of the world and facing deadly enemies was one thing... manageable, in a way. But what would happen to his mind after enduring weeks, months, years lost, fighting, studying, feeding on carcasses, and nearly dying?
Just considering something like that already sent a current of fear prickling through his skin. Tryg felt as if the world — all worlds, in fact — were pushing down on his shoulders, trying to force him to give up.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" Sinmara asked, lifting her white eyebrows slightly. "You said you needed to fulfill your promise and return to your mother. But is such insistence truly necessary?"
He closed his eyes and remained silent. His answer had not changed. And it never would.
"Yes." He nodded to the queen. "Thank you again for your help, Lady Sinmara. But I need to at least try."
Tryg turned his back and, once more, headed toward the mysterious corridors of Ivaldi's Workshop, dressed in a ragged Einherjar armor and armed with a single dagger, six Idunn Fruits, a waterskin, a few strips of dried meat, and a scarce set of survival items.
However, as he walked and examined the bag, he stopped. The mist ahead of him seemed to be drawn toward him... Or rather, through him. The pale clouds passed straight over his feet, chilling them, and continued toward the queen, wrapping her in their frozen embrace. Tryg had seen something similar before, whenever she had transported them. But there was something different. The mist... was not forming a tornado. It was coiling around Sinmara's long legs, climbing up her body...
Curious, Tryg remained watching the magic for a long moment. And then for a few more.
"Um...?"
Yet, despite the delay, a minute later, the mist dissipated and rained down upon the bridge. Sinmara was nowhere to be seen. But there was another being there. A small... wolf? No, it looked more like a fox. A small fox, shorter than the height of his knees, with cerulean eyes, a fluffy tail, and white fur, silky and shining like snow on a moonlit night. It smelled of apple juice.
That... was one of the most adorable things he had ever seen in his life.
The fox trembled. Then, suddenly, it fell, letting out a sharp whimper of pain that pierced Tryg's ears. Without thinking, he rushed toward the small animal and picked it up gently. She was trembling and panting without pause, her snout twisted with suffering.
"Hey, calm down," he whispered, worried, holding the fox against his chest. "You'll be all right, boy."
He had spent much of his life caring for goats, but he had no idea how to care for a canine like that. In any case, whatever Sinmara had been thinking when she left that defenseless animal with him, she had still done it. Leaving it to its own fate was out of the question.
As the fox's breathing finally began to normalize, and her canine face relaxed, Tryg let out a relieved sigh and scratched between her pointed ears.
"Good boy." He smiled. "You're really cute, you know?"
The fox growled. She lifted her head, pulling away from the affection she was receiving, and, as fast as lightning... furiously bit his fingers.
"Ouch! Hey, let go!" Shaking his hand, Tryg freed himself from the bite and dropped the animal, bloody teeth marks forming on his pale skin. Even though he had predicted, had seen the attack, he had not been fast enough to avoid it.
"Damn it, why did you do that?!" he shouted.
"Dare call me 'cute' again, and I swear you will lose far more than a few fingers."
His eyes widened.
That voice...
"L-Lady Sinmara?!" he asked, this time in a far more respectful tone.
The fox sat amid the snow, her tail striking the ground a single time, nothing more. It surely was her. Not just because of the small flaming heart he could now see beating in her chest. But mainly because of the terrifying coldness that remained in her gaze.
"And is there anyone else here besides us?" she asked.
"Ah. Well..." Tryg scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "In my defense, you didn't look like a person anymore." He sighed and straightened. "Anyway, I'm sorry for calling you 'cute'... and 'boy'..."
She did not answer, nor did she move.
He crouched beside her, keeping a respectful distance. On one hand, he was afraid of having his arm torn off. On the other, he was excited by the new magic he had witnessed.
"Wow, you can also turn into animals," he said. "I met a man named Hildisvíni who could do the same."
She began licking one paw. "I do not know that man, but if he is who I think he is, we probably use different methods. I, for example, use Jötunn magic to transform myself, as many giants do. Or rather, did."
"That's nice. But, if I may ask: why did you change into a fox?"
The queen shrugged. "It will be easier to accompany you in this form."
Tryg stood up and blinked. "Accompany me?"
"Yes." She pointed at him with the chubby paw she had just licked. "But do not get excited. As I said, I will not keep saving your skin. I am going only to observe. Since you intend to die in that labyrinth, I might as well have the decency to watch from up close."
That pleased him. Even if she did not help him, it would be good to have company during his turbulent and long journey. Having someone to talk to would definitely help him preserve his sanity.
"But before we enter, I think we should do one thing first," the fox said, walking and sitting between his feet, "since we will spend weeks, perhaps months in there."
"Do what?"
As a whirlwind of snow gradually formed around them, shaking their clothes and fur, Sinmara tilted her head back to look at him.
"I will take you to speak with your mother."