Carefully, she walked to the door of her room and peeked outside
A tall figure stood just outside.
An armored warrior stood vigil, unmoving, his face stern, There was an Einherjar guarding her room
The Einherjar were no ordinary guards. They were the elite warrior-class of Asgard , a legendary force sworn to protect the realm and uphold order across the Nine Realms. Their armor, forged from some gleaming magical metal, shimmered with a golden hue that seemed to defy the very concept of dullness. Their helmets were designed like the mandibles of a stag beetle, fierce and noble, exuding power and discipline.
A golden cloak draped from their backs completed the heroic image , proud and untouchable. And one such warrior stood at the door of her room, guarding it with absolute seriousness.
'Well… I am a princess', Sylvie reminded herself. Adopted or not, it comes with certain privileges.
She took a deep breath, brushed aside her nerves, and walked boldly out of her room. She paused, then cleared her throat, trying to sound composed.
"Ahem."
The sound was enough. The Einherjar turned immediately, then marched over to her with crisp, precise steps and knelt before her.
"Your orders, Princess."
Sylvie froze for a moment , stunned by the gesture. A full-grown warrior kneeling to her? That was a bit much. But then again, Asgard did take its royalty very seriously.
She composed herself quickly and tried to summon a regal tone. "I'm hungry. Bring me food. Preferably staple food , rice or wheat-based."
There was a beat of silence. Sylvie realized belatedly that her request might've been a little… unconventional for Asgardian standards. But she held her expression firm, watching carefully for the guard's reaction.
The Einherjar, however, did not question her. He simply nodded and rose to his feet, saluting.
"As you command, Princess."
As he turned and walked away with mechanical precision, Sylvie felt a strange mix of relief and tension. Her first direct order had been accepted without suspicion.
After a certain amount of time passed…
Sylvie stared at the large number of dishes placed in her room.
With fake irritation, she waved away all the maids. Once the last one left, she quickly went forward to lock the door. Well, there was no physical lock on the door. Of course, the embarrassing situation came first. She had to call one of the maids back just to say:
"I need privacy. To make my room quiet and peaceful."
The maid bowed gracefully, then stepped to the side of the ornate archway and pressed a golden rune inscribed on the wall. Instantly, a shimmering curtain of golden light rose over the doorway. The outside world vanished from view. Ah, Asgard, land of magic and gods.
Back to the task at hand.
Driving away all the maids, Sylvie successfully crafted the image of a shy princess embarrassed by how much she ate. After all, she had personally ordered this banquet-sized meal.
Among the lavish food, she found what she truly needed: simple white rice.
She picked up four bowls of rice and carefully placed them at the four corners of the room, forming a square.
Then she stood in the exact center of the room, took a deep breath, and began the ritual.
She places four portions of rice in the four corners of a room. Then, according to the ritual she stood in the middle of a room, and step forward went in a counter-clockwise direction in the shape of a square.
Then, she took the first step and chanted. Similarly the second step, third step and the fourth step along with the chant were taken.
Having completed the square, Sylvie returned to the starting point and stood still.
She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, trying to suppress the excitement thundering in her chest.
Five minutes passed.
.... Nothing happened at all..
She peeked one eye open.
Still nothing.
Ten minutes… Twenty minutes…
By the time the hour mark hit, Sylvie sat on the floor, arms crossed, glaring at a corner bowl of rice.
"This is stupid."
In her mind, a crow flapped lazily across the room, perched on the back of a golden chair, and cawed mockingly at her.
Sylvie thought she might have made a mistake with the ritual, so she performed it again.
Once,Twice and Thrice.
The crow flew by again, a flutter of dark feathers and a hoarse caw that echoed in the air like mocking laughter.
She spun around , but found nothing.
'Again?! Was the crow real… or have I started seeing things?'
Unbeknownst to Sylvie, the crow had already slipped out of her room, its shadow dissolving into the mist that lingered near the window's edge, unnoticed.
"Enough," she muttered to herself, drawing a sharp breath. Her voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from exasperation.
Maybe that dream, the one she'd had before her transmigration, was just that ' a delusion.'
It was impossible for something like the Sefirah Castle, a thing born of madness and divinity from the Lord of the Mysteries universe, to cross over into Marvel's reality.
The thought was… absurd.
Yet the rituals, the symbols, the recurring dreams, they had felt too vivid to dismiss. But if nothing had responded, not even a whisper from the fog, then perhaps…it was just her imagination..
It was frustrating, yes. Like throwing punches at the air. But if she could confirm there was no connection between her and the Sefirah Castle, then maybe, just maybe, she could breathe easier.
The weight lifted.
There was no creeping corruption of her thoughts. No hidden Watcher pulling her strings from behind the curtain of fate.
Just Sylvie, a variant of Loki, against the Time Variance Authority.
That was manageable. That, she could fight.
After all, "The One Who Remains", a variant of Kang, the supposed final boss of the TVA, was ultimately just a human. A powerful one, yes, but still a being that could be understood, outwitted, killed.
Feeling lighter, Sylvie began to hum. She didn't know the proper melody, but it felt right at the moment.