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“Well of course I’m not.” he said, chuckling. “But that’s who you expect to see when you are lucidly dreaming so... Am I a scorpion?”

“You are in the form of a scorpion.” I said. “But who are you?”

The form of Manajuwejet raised a claw, swept it around as the form became a whirlwind. A red spot on his back rose, became orange, became a flowing head of hair, a mustache, sideburns, a beard.

Within that beard, a smirk that said the OTHER knew he was just better than I was, and dared me to do something reckless to prove him otherwise. That smile extended upward, to eyes that reflected burning cities, storms of chaotic flame, of rituals and sorcery and other things un-natural.

“I am either Loki, or one of his envoys, and before you try, you shall never truly know the difference, and trying will only injure your petty mortal mind.”

I sighed, rose from where I had been sunning myself on the sandy bank of the Nile. “You want something.” I said. “And it’s something I should turn down, since you aren’t willing to go through my spirit guide or my current divine patron.”

“Would you turn down a gift so readily?” he asked.

“If it were truly a gift, it could be given through proper channels.” I replied. “I need no bribe with some manner of trap or suicidal request attached.”

.....

He put a hand to his chest, fingers splayed across his throat and upper breastbone. “Your words! A lesser trickster than I would be wounded by such. Of course,” he smiled, “I am no such weakling.”

Behind me, the waters of the Nile rose and parted, and suddenly not-Sobek was there. “Foreigner. Liar. Deceiver. Your evil is unwanted here.”

“Which is why I was going to invite your mercenary priest here.” With a flourish of his cloak, (which he’d had all along, I just hadn’t seen it because dream logic), he revealed a land covered in snow, a charred tree offering no shelter from the biting wind. “A place where we might talk, Norvik to Norvik.”

A heavy clawed hand grasped my right shoulder. “My oath-sworn is going nowhere with you. Any offer to be made can be done here, where the rules of Numerian hospitality shall be used to judge your conduct.”

He puffed out his cheeks, letting out a pop-whistle. “One young priestess raped by vikings, and suddenly everyone is judging me as though I had caused any of these decisions. How is the Chosen Child, by the way?”

“Nerem-Hotep grows strong,” Not-Sobek said, “And his legend grows with him.”

“Ah.” said Loki.

“And at no point in his tale is your hand in his creation told.”

“How rude!” Loki replied. “But still, understandable. If it got out to your worshipers that Norvik blood was stronger than Numerian, they might also have reason to doubt their gods. It is better for you that his true origins are never spoken of.”

“Agreed. Now that we have reached an agreement, you may leave.”

“What? But I just got here, and the pathetic mortal hasn’t heard my words.”

“Although I need grant you nothing, you have thirty seconds to speak your words.”

“Thirty?... Fine.” Loki said, pulling on his cloak as though it made his armor look more impressive. “I need to apologize for what my followers are about to do to your homeland. The truth is, I don’t really care about them all that much, anymore.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Beause they aren’t so cunning, nor so smart as I once believed them to be. All it took was one person, and suddenly I’m both suddenly hearing prayers through a new set of holy leaders, and there’s a sudden surge of raw faith, which leads to a swelling of the processed faith. All of the sudden, a forgotten joke against my brother is actually – feeding me again. So thank you.”

He stood at the border of his freezing homeland. “Please do keep up the good work, and remember. I offer you a lesser boon of your choosing, but I do not offer that choice for long.”

Then he stepped across the threshold. “Please do name a reward before my followers find you and put you to death.”

Then Loki, and his frozen hellscape of a home, and his smarmy presence were all gone.

I sighed and grumbled. “That almost sounded sincere.”

“Learn this about Loki.” Not-Sobek said. “The more subdued, the more controlled, the more ... methodical he seems, this is when he is at his most dangerous. For at those times, he wants SOMETHING enough to be worth controlling his more chaotic urges.”

“If you remember this encounter, we shall discuss it when the moon is new.” Not-Sobek said. She leaned in, and her eye was different.

something asked in her voice.

“Why would I not understand you?” I asked, as her shadow blotted out the sun. As the smell of ruined clay began rising from the wet sand.

Suddenly, her/its eye was gone, and I could see the moon behind them. The waning crescent moon, just under a third remaining.

Suddenly, it was cold.

[You are now awake.] my System informed me.

I coughed up some muddy water; water that tasted of alkali.

she said.