As the group approached, the man inside the tree moved.
From the distance it had seemed as if he was dead, his own weight pulling him down to bend his back and making him look older than he actually was. But as the steps of unwanted visitors reached his ears, his head junked up and one eye opened.

"Ah, I expected you to visit me sooner or later.", he said in a thick, strangely passive aggressive accent. "But I didn't expect you to bring so much company."

His eye jumped from Magni to Modi and then to Baldur. But he wasn't looking at him. He glanced through his thick beard and locked eyes with you instead.

A hint if surprise appeared on Mimir's face. His eyebrows rose and his bearded lips parted to let out a soft breath.

"What a sight...", he said, jus entire attention laying on you. "I would've never imagined to meet you one day."

His words took you by surprise. Unsure, you let yourself sink lower, so deep, that Baldur struggled to keep you on his back. Your feet met the cold snow, making you flinch in pain. But you refused to climb back up.

Instead, you hid behind Baldur's figure, but kept glancing at Mimir from the corner of your eyes.

"You know me?", you asked in a silent voice.

You didn't know why, but the thought of Magni and Modi listening to the conversation made you feel restless. It felt like you were handing them valuable information about yourself.

To this point, they didn't even know about that rotten body of yours. But as soon as they would find out, you feared they would try and take their shot at making your life more miserable than it already was.

Stretching his neck, Mimir took another, closer look.

"Oh, I know everything, child of suffering.", he said and frowned. "But you don't know anything. Do you?"

Confused yet excited, you wanted to take a step towards him.

But Baldur's hand jumped forward and grabbed you by the shoulder.

Startled, you looked up to him.

He didn't say anything, nor did his face show how much the idea of Mimir talking to you displeased him. But not a single word of objection left his mouth. Instead, his Hand Rose tk your cheek and refreshed his handprint on your skin as if it could give him power over you.

"I'll give you a moment, little butterfly.", he said while his blue eyes sparkled like the sky above. "But sometimes the truth is worse than the lie."

As his hand pulled back a burning feeling remained on your cheek. It felt like he was still touching you, supporting you in the least harmful way he was capable of.

Your fingers twitched as he turned his back on you and told Magni and Modi to leave for a moment. You wanted to grab his hand, hold him back. You wished for him to be by your side.

But at the same time this was a matter that only concerned you. It was about your curse, your faith.

Your father, possibly.

Taking a deep breath in, you followed Baldur's movements to the edge of the mountain. But before he climbed back on his dragons back, he glanced over his shoulder.

Your eyes met.

Softly, he nodded.

"Why do you call me this?", you asked and slowly turned to the man, the prisoner, inside the tree again. "Is it my body?"

Mimir chuckled.

His voice was soft yet it sounded like he tried to defend himself with every word that slid from his tongue.

Knowledge was his only tool, so it was no wonder.

"As I expected.", he said and did a gesture with his hand so you would come closer. "Let me see. Oh, yes."

Unsure, you dared to take a few steps towards him, but stopped in a safe distance. Despite his rather warm attitude towards you, he was still an enemy.

"What is it?", you asked, tilted your head and frowned. "Do you know what this... curse is?"

You raised your bandaged arm. The white cotton was already drenched in dirt, body fluids and hints of blood.
Mimir's expression lightened.

"Curse?", he asked and had to chuckle. "Oh no, child. This is not a curse but the powers that your father has inherited you."

Surprised, you looked at him.

"My father? You know who he is?"

"Oh, I wish I wouldn't. But I do. Every living being knows who your father is."

You frowned.

"How?"

Again, Mimir chuckled. This time, his shoulders moved and it seemed like he was trying to escape.

"Your father, or rather, the purpose that his existence serves, is something so close to life, it is considered mandatory. Everyone feels it at some point. Everyone felt it at least once in their lives. And those who don't...", he did a gesture towards Baldur. "Well... they go insane. They feel lesser, broken and not even worthy of the worst qualities of life."

The more you listened to his words, the more you thought that it would be better not to know the man you came from. But at the same time there was this little voice in the back of your head, the desire that on,y knowing him or at least his name, could ease the pain that was chaining your body to this miserable life.

"He's a bad man.", you said carefully and watched as Mimir's expression changed.

Slowly, he shook his head. But it seemed hesitant.

"He's nothing but the god of suffering and diseases.", he finally said. "Just like Baldur, he was born into a role that he did not chose. His purpose is to make people suffer in order to remind them that life is a balance."

With bated breath, you but clenched your hands into fists to prevent your hands from shaking.

"He's... a god?", the answer to that question was obvious, but you needed to hear it from him.

"Yes."

As you raised your hand to your face, they were shaking.

"Then why... did he curse me with this body?"

"Hm. Not a curse but a cursed gift. His blood in your veins keeps all the bad from you. You'll never fall ill, will never suffer from diseases or will be taken by them. But everything comes with a price. Your insides are strong. But therefor, the outside has to be fragile."