While Zelos devoted much of his time to creating and refining his spells, his summoned eagles were never idle. They tirelessly hunted Odin's ravens across the skies of Midgard, disrupting the All-Father's eyes wherever they found them. At the same time, they served as Zelos' own window to the world, scouting the land far and wide. Through their vision, Zelos observed Midgard as if the entire realm were a living television, full of endless channels for him to study.
Of all the sights he watched, there were three figures who drew his attention the most: Brok, Sindri, and Mimir. The dwarven brothers fascinated him with their skill. Every movement of the hammer, every careful strike against metal, and every enchantment they embedded into their crafts became a lesson for Zelos, even if they were unaware they had an audience. Though he did not speak to them directly, their silent instruction deepened his understanding of craftsmanship, and Zelos treasured each detail.
Yet it was Mimir who intrigued him most of all. Bound unnaturally to a tree, his form restrained by powerful magic, Mimir was unlike anyone Zelos had ever seen. More than his condition, however, it was the knowledge that Mimir carried which captivated Zelos. The eagle's sharp gaze often lingered on the bound man, drawn again and again by the sense of wisdom hidden behind those tired eyes.
One day, as the eagle perched nearby, Mimir finally spoke. "How about a conversation, lad?" he offered casually, his voice carrying a lilt of amusement. He had noticed how the eagle's watchful eyes never wavered from him, and in those eyes he recognized something he once held himself: relentless curiosity.
"Who are you, strange bearded man in a tree?" Zelos asked, speaking through the eagle's body. Though he already knew Mimir's name and reputation, he chose to play along.
Mimir let out a hearty laugh. "Strange bearded man, is it? Well, I suppose that's not untrue. But allow me to introduce myself properly. I am the greatest ambassador to the gods, the Giants, and all the creatures of the Nine Realms. I know every corner of these lands, every language spoken, every war waged, every bargain struck. They call me… Mimir! Smartest man alive! And I have the answer to your every question." His words rang with pride, his voice carrying a mix of boast and jest, as if he had repeated this declaration a thousand times before.
Zelos listened silently, letting the man revel in his titles before speaking again. "What are you doing here, Mimir? Why are you bound to a tree?"
The ambassador's expression shifted, his tone softening with feigned humor. "Ah, that. Sadly, not everyone appreciated my talents as much as they should have. Being the smartest man alive has its drawbacks, you see. Let's just say I earned myself this fine seat, courtesy of the All-Father's less charitable side." He chuckled, but the weight in his words betrayed more than he admitted.
"How unfortunate, Mimir," Zelos replied evenly, his eagle tilting its head.
Before the conversation could continue further, a sudden fluctuation rippled through the space around the tree. Zelos immediately recognized it: the distinct tearing of the air that came with teleportation. Reacting on instinct, he activated the concealment charm woven into the eagle, and in an instant, the bird vanished into thin air, severing the connection. From the safety of his hidden vantage, Zelos watched and waited, his curiosity now tempered by caution.
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This marked the beginning of an unusual kind of friendship between the two of them, one that neither had really expected. Mimir would spend hours telling stories and recounting tales about his past, while Zelos would simply listen, rarely interrupting. Almost every tale that came from Mimir's mouth followed a familiar pattern—either ending in some tragic event, or in some act of lust, or sometimes a mixture of both, where tragedy and desire went hand in hand. Still, Mimir spoke without restraint, and Zelos, despite finding the repetition strange, continued to lend his ears. For the boy, the stories were less about the events themselves and more about the way knowledge could be carried within them.
While listening to Mimir's endless accounts, Zelos often shifted his focus toward something else: the magic that bound the man to the tree. The restraints themselves pulsed faintly with divine power, woven through with layers of enchantments that seemed far beyond the crude workings of ordinary Vanir or Jotnar sorcery. Zelos studied them whenever he could, carefully analyzing their structure, as he wanted to ensure that if the day came, Mimir could be released without requiring death as the price.
Mimir, who was sharper than he pretended, noticed this behavior sooner rather than later. "What are you doing, lad?" he asked one day, curiosity in his tone as he saw the eagle perch unusually close to the runes carved into the bark.
"I'm studying the magical composition of your restraints," Zelos answered plainly through the eagle's body. "What do you know? Maybe one day, I'll be able to free you."
Mimir let out a weary laugh at that. "That would be tricky, boy. Odin made certain no blade nor weapon could ever sever these bonds. He went to great lengths to ensure my fate."
"In a world of magic," Zelos countered, his voice carrying the same stubborn pride that often surfaced in his studies, "something that seems impossible is usually just something not studied enough."
Mimir chuckled again, amused by the boy's confidence, though there was no mockery in his laughter this time—only curiosity.
From that point forward, their talks carried more than just stories. The conversations slowly shifted into exchanges of knowledge. Mimir, seeing Zelos' hunger for understanding, began to share fragments of his own vast intellect: the roots of languages, the histories of different lands, and subtle lessons about how realms connected with each other. Zelos, in return, occasionally shared ideas and concepts that were entirely foreign to Mimir—fragments of theories that sounded half-impossible, but fascinating enough that even the smartest man alive found himself pondering them.
Thus, the two developed a bond. One was an ageless scholar, bound and silenced by gods, while the other was a boy touched by power, growing sharper with each passing day. This has been the break that Mimir had been hoping for from the everyday torture that he was experiencing from Odin, while Zelos was using what Mimir was teaching as a support or even foundation of some of the magics that Zelos was developing.