~*~
The Age of the Third Yggdrasil
~*~
Odin dreamed.
He dreamed that he was hanging from Yggdrasil, and that he was looking out of one eye. He dreamt that he was cradling the unmoving form of his son Balder, screaming at Loki, who cowered and fled the scene. He dreamt that he was holding his spear, Gungnir, its tip beaten clean off by Fenrir, who parted his jaws, swallowing Odin whole.
With a start, Odin woke.
He was standing at the base of Yggdrasil. His feet brushed against the cold, slimy shape of Nidhogg, who hissed, eyes wide, slithering away to its preferred spot, where it had last gnawed at the roots of the World Tree.
Odin sighed. He felt old, older beyond his five hundred years. He climbed and climbed, his fur coat tugging downwards; he wished that he was wearing something less heavy, like a light tunic or a cloak.
It took Odin a fortnight of climbing to reach Mimir’s well. “Mimir! It is I, Odin, son of Bor, son of Buri. I wish to drink from your well.”
“And why should I grant you this pleasure, Odin, son of Bor, son of Buri?”
“I seek knowledge. To rule justly, and wisely.”
“Do you not already have knowledge, Odin? Enough knowledge to rule Asgard?”
“Aye. But there’s no end to knowledge. I wish to know all that can be known about the nine realms. And that can only be found in your well, Mimir.”
“That is true. But I sense danger in your words, Odin. They are steeped in ambition. The kind of ambition that burns everything in its wake.”
“Perhaps. But that is a risk I am prepared to take. All I need is one drink from the well, Mimir.”
Mimir looked at the well, dipping his fingers into the tranquil waters. “You will have that, Odin. But I want something in return as well. I want your eyes.”
Odin thought this a fair trade. He would be trading eyesight for another kind of insight. But Odin’s mind was at unease, buzzing with noise. And all that noise crystallized into one question.
“Why both eyes? Why not one?”
“Ah, you are fine with losing one eye? That’s reason enough to ask you for both of them. Your influence reaches far and wide, but it has its limits. Humble yourself, All-Father.”
Odin smiled. He had heard about Mimir’s knowledge. There was a purpose behind Mimir’s every word. Humility was indeed a powerful lesson. But Odin wondered if he truly needed it.
“Give me two days to think, Mimir. You will have your answer by the third dawn.”
“That I can give you. But beware, All-Father. Two eyes must fall in the well by the third dawn.”
Odin sat by Mimir’s side and pondered his choices. The more he drew upon his own wisdom, the more his paranoia grew. He feared the Norns, but perhaps the Norns had something to fear too.
It came to him on the second night, when he lay awake beside a sleeping Mimir. It was a simple idea, so obvious in deceit and duplicity that Odin chided himself for not thinking of it sooner.
Grabbing his knife from his belt, Odin crept up to Mimir’s prone form. He struck thrice: once at the throat and once each for each eye. Scooping the eyeballs in his palm, he dropped them into the well. The blood swirled in the water, glowing a dull red before changing to a serene blue. Odin cupped the water in his hands and sucked. He drank, consumed by a ravenous thirst, from dawn to noon, until he couldn’t drink anymore. And then he waited until he could drink again, emptying the well by the fourth day.
And then on the fifth day, Odin peeked through the veil of spacetime, gazing on the true nature of the Aesir and the Vanir. He felt mortified, amazed and cowed, all at once. And then he got back to work, fashioning a wooden box out of Yggdrasil’s bark.
On the sixth day, Odin revived Mimir as a head, binding him to servitude with fell magic. But even as a severed head, Mimir smiled. “I suppose you are in need of my counsel, All-Father.”
“Yes. I shall ask you three questions. And in return, I shall let you live.”
“A fair bargain. Ask away.”
“How many Ragnaroks have happened?”
“Two.”
“How many Ragnaroks are meant to happen?”
“There are two answers. One is infinity. The other is 47.”
This confounded Odin, but the knowledge he had gained from the well illuminated the uncertain path ahead. With a long sigh, Odin resolved to ask the final question.
“Can Ragnarok be won?”
Mimir paused, mulling over the question thoughtfully. “You are asking me if death can be won. The answer to that is the same as the answer for one who wonders if life can be won. Our fates are sealed, only as far as we believe in them.
I don’t know if Ragnarok can be won. But you, Odin, son of Bor, son of Buri, can try and see what happens.”
Odin frowned. He had enough cheekiness for the day. He shoved Mimir’s head into the wooden box and closed the lid. And thus for the third time in the history of gods and men, Mimir was placed in a box, only to be fetched when Odin sought his counsel.
As for Odin and his concerns about Ragnarok, he would soon find out that his concerns had only begun. He would search the nine realms for answers; on the way, he would amass the wealths of several kingdoms to build and fortify Asgard into a celestial superpower.
He would do this a thousand times over. And over time, his questions evolved. And the nine realms came to know him as Alle Erorber: the All-Conqueror.
This is not his story. This is the story of his children and others who came after him, and how they warred against the unbreakable cycle of Ragnarok.
~*~
The Age of the 47th Yggdrasil
2019 AD
Thor smiled his widest, toothiest smile as he entered the room. His smile widened even further when he saw the row of photographs arranged artfully on the wall. He recognized several of the men and women within, in various stages of laughter or repose with the facility staff. Bob Ward was flashing his famous, toothy smile, and Moonshadow was laughing, elves and imps dancing around her hands, glowing jubilantly.
He knew these people in another life. To his thirty-six year old brain, however, they were mostly old people, mingling and laughing, living a life that’s mostly fulfilled. And a fulfilled life, at this point, was a thoroughly alien concept to Thor.
The room’s other occupant, a short, stocky man waved at him, motioning him to take a seat by the coffee table.
“Ah, you must be Michael. Shall I call you Mike?”
“Sure! Thor, right? No last name?”
“Son of Odin, Son of Bor, Son of Buri. But it’s not as much of a name as a title. Doesn’t roll off the tongue that well.”
Michael laughed, adjusting his glasses as he took his seat. tturned towards Thor. “Now Thor, before we begin, I got to ask you a couple of questions. Now don’t worry, these are formalities, as you probably know. I am just legally required to ask them.”
Thor nodded. “You are going to ask me if I tried to kill myself.”
“Yes, and other things. But let’s begin with that,” Michael said, grabbing a tablet from the table. “Have you tried to kill yourself?”
“Yes. Many times in fact.”
“When was this?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer. Time flows differently in Asgard and the other realms. So around two thousand years ago, give or take a few hundred years.”
“And how did you do it? Could you walk me through the steps?”
“Well, I can list off what I did. Hung myself from Yggdrasil. Flung myself off the Bifrost bridge. Leapt into the jaws of Jormundgandr, the Midgard serpent. That’s what I can remember off the top of my head.”
“I see. And do you still feel like killing yourself?”
“By the heavens, no. This is probably my last life. Or it’s the first life of the rest of my lives. Either way, I do not intend to waste it.”
“I assume you have been feeling depressed for…you said two thousand years? That’s an astonishing amount of time to go without a diagnosis or treatment. There’s something to be said about your mental endurance.”
“You misunderstand. You see, I get a new brain every time I am reborn. New face too. I remember what happened, but I don’t know what went through my head all those times. Which is a good thing. I am not really supposed to remember all these previous lives.”
“And how do you remember them?”
Thor smirked. “I could tell you, but then I would have to swear you to a vow of secrecy that may or may not involve a blood pact. And some other manner of skullduggery.”
“Alright, alright,” Michael said. “I have dealt with immortals before, though I have to say, you are my first Norse god. Is there any prior history of depression in my family?”
“Well, my father’s a bastard and my sister’s a borderline nutcase, but no, I don’t know if anyone else feels the way I do. I do have a long line of relatives though, so who knows? You might find something if you dig deep.”
“Alright. On a scale of one to ten, how depressed do you feel right now?”
“Five. Sometimes it goes up to a seven, but eh, there are good days and bad days, right?”
“Yeah, there are. You currently an actor, right? That means you have to be in touch with your emotions. How’s that working out for you so far?”
Thor rubbed his fingers, a hint of trepidation creeping into his posture. “It’s working out well, obviously. I get good roles. Some of them even require me to act instead of just being pretty. My girlfriend, Sophie runs an acting school. It’s pretty great. I teach there too from time to time. That’s how we actually met each other a couple of years ago.”
“I sense a but somewhere.”
“I feel uneasy. The last time I left Asgard, it was hovering on the brink of war. Another senseless campaign of slaughter and pillage. I have been away for twenty years. And then, after all this time, what I do receive in the mail? Feathers. From a raven. Pfft. Clearly the old man hasn’t lost his penchant for theatrics.”
“Still, he is your father, and I can see that you respect him, despite your misgivings. What are you planning to do?”
Thor shifted in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped. “Nothing. Asgard will be fine. It has done mighty well without me and my sister so far. I have no interest in hearing what Odin wants to say.”
“Right. You seem to have a lot of problems with your father. Is it the same with the rest of the family?”
Thor laughed. “My family is, as mortals say, a piece of work. But then again, maybe that’s the case with most divine families. Hercules never had a good thing to say about his own parents, for one.”
“Right. I will remember to bring that up in later sessions. Lastly, do you think you are worthless and a failure? If yes, how much on a scale of one to ten?”
Thor inhaled. His hands were hurting: he was pressing on his knuckles tightly, and his palms were starting to get sore. “Four.”
Michael nodded. He was still smiling, but his eyes were pointed, rummaging through Thor’s visage, looking for any signs of severe depression. “I can tell you have a lot of trauma from your past lives. I know it’s difficult talking about these things, but you can’t run from your past forever. You have done therapy before, right? It’s a collaborative process. You have to help me get better at helping you.”
“Yes, yes. I look forward to that, Michael,” Thor said, beaming as he rose and offered his hand. “I will see you next week, yes?”
“Yeah! Just leave your insurance information at the desk. There might be some copay, but most of it will be covered by Unioncare.”
Thor laughed. He didn’t expect his Union healthcare to still hold up, especially since he hadn’t been part of the team since the 70s. That was, literally, a lifetime ago. He had chosen the quiet life this time around, but that didn’t mean he didn’t heed the call of adventure every now and then.
“Alright, Michael, I take my leave for the day. Before I leave, though, there’s one thing I want to give to you.”
Thor dug into his pockets, finding three Hershey’s Kisses. He offered two of them, pocketing the last one for himself. “I hope you don’t have diabetes.”
Michael chuckled, taking the Hershey’s. His eyes gleamed when he inspected them. “These are different, aren’t they? There’s an aroma to them that’s quite fascinating.”
“Yes! You are quite perceptive. My sister, Loki, enchants food all the time. I am partial to Hershey’s, so she tries to infuse the scent of Idunn’s Golden Apples with the cocoa. She has gotten quite good at it over the years.”
Michael smiled, accompanying Thor to the door. “I am glad to hear that. Hope you have a great weekend, Thor.”
“You too! Farewell.”
Thor exited the office, smiling brightly and winking at the receptionist, who demurred, mustering a shy smile. The summer heat tickled his skin as he floated off the ground; by the time he was among the clouds, he was already humming an ancient Dane song. He reached into his pockets again, hoping to find the last Hershey’s Kiss. To his dismay, however, his pockets were empty.
Thor glared upon realizing he had been tricked once again. “Loki.”
~*~
Loki looked at her reflection, twirling around, delighting in the way her summer dress clung to her skin. The green-grey print complimented the faint spiraling, snake-like embroidery that stretched from her neck to belly, twisting around her torso to end at her lower back.
“What do you think, Wednesday?” she asked her Tamaskan dog, who was busy munching on his favorite doll. “Is this too bold?”
Wednesday stared at her, spreading his legs across the bed, eyes wide. He groaned and turned away, rubbing his ears with his leg.
Loki observed herself, wondering if changes needed to be made. She was meeting Aaron today, and he had a terrible eye for fashion. It was better to go for something more casual, she decided.
Loki twirled in front of the mirror once again; the hem of her skirt extended, separating into tight jeans, while her sleeves extended, filled with long, artful gaps that exposed her pale arms. Her flats morphed into high heel boots, a pair of steel, minimalist bangles formed her wrists.
Loki grinned, pleased with her new reflection. She whistled at Wednesday, who stood up on all fours and bounded from the bed, shooting straight for Loki’s ankles.
Loki grabbed the leash and harness from the bedside table, fitting it around Wednesday’s neck. She grabbed her purse on her way out, taking a moment to peruse the items held within. Her MetroCard was there, as was her phone, but most importantly, her notepad was there too, along with her special pen.
“Where are you?” she texted Aaron as she exited the apartment, rapidly descending down the stairs, hand trained tightly on Wednesday’s leash.
“I am almost there,” Aaron texted back a minute later. “What about you?
“I am almost there too,” Loki lied, smirking to herself. She turned a corner, into a narrow alley and twisted her hand, fingers dancing in a slow, delicate rhythm. An oval portal opened on the wall in front of her, lighting the way to Columbus Circle. She stepped through, shivering as a draft blew past her shoulders. And just like that, Loki Laufsdottir traversed through five miles of traffic in one step.
Wednesday barked, straining against his collar, excitedly scooting towards other dogs travelling down the streets. Loki pulled, directing him towards the stairs at the base of the statue. Loki loved it here: the constant din of the crowd, intermixed with the throttling car engines zooming around the intersection, made her feel alive in a way that only New Yorkers do.
“It’s great, isn’t it Wednesday? All these people, out working or enjoying this fine summer morning. All of them slightly mad in their own ways, bustling with stories to tell.”
Wednesday crooned, staring mournfully at the distant greens of the park. He lowered his head, rubbing it against Loki’s knees.
“All in good time, boy. Aaron will be here soon.”
Loki took some pictures of the place, experimenting with the angles and lighting, trying to capture Wednesday- and a couple seated besides him- in various stages of tranquility.
She wondered what their stories were. The woman was lithe: her waspish figure was supported by a strong posture, and there was a slight graveness to her expressions that suggest she was from a Scandinavian country. The man, on the other hand, was loquacious, talking rapidly in Spanish, hand grasping his partner’s palm. He showed her a video on his phone, barely holding in his laughter. She allowed herself a polite smile, and his own smile widened in response.
Loki felt a strong urge to strike a conversation with the pair, but stopped short when she spotted Aaron Harding walking towards her grinning with bounding confidence, leading a Dachshund of his own. “You sure you aren’t a tourist, Loki? Because this is as touristy as it gets.”
Loki frowned, rising to her feet. Wednesday barked at the Dachshund, tapping his feet as he circled her. “Come on, Aaron. You know as well as I do this is one of those quintessential places in New York. I mean, we could go to Wall Street, if you feel that’s better. But I think Wednesday and Keighley are going to enjoy themselves there.”
Aaron rubbed his head, motioning towards the park. “Nah, this is a fine place. I guess I expected something more…I don’t know, dungeons and dragons from you? Your reputation does precede you, after all.”
Loki laughed, tilting her head to the right. Wednesday was busy licking Keighley’s nose off, while Keighley was staring at the Tamaskan with wide, inky eyes. “You put too much stock on the words of ancient men, Aaron. The Prose Edda is a fine story, but it’s very light on research, to put it lightly.
I enjoy the summer as much as anyone else. Come, let’s get to a place where we can let our kids run free.”
As they crossed the intersection, Loki felt a slight tingling at the base of her skull, as though a feather were brushing against the surface of her mind. Loki grinned. Boys were so predictable. She should know, given that she’s been on both sides of the gender divide.
“You know Aaron, trying to break past my mental spells was kinda funny last year. Now, not so much. What are you hoping to find, anyways?”
“I don’t know,” Aaron admitted. “And that’s what makes the entire prospect of it exciting in the first place. Here you are, the God of Lies, a Parson’s sophomore, living a mostly unremarkable life. What gives?”
“Firstly, your information is a bit outdated. God of Lies was thirty lifetimes ago. I was God of Mischief for a good while after that. Now I am the Goddess of Stories. Secondly, come on. This is Earth, for God’s sake. Why would I be living anywhere else?”
“Well, doesn’t Asgard have a Rainbow bridge or something? And then there’s all those other realms. Like Vanaheim, Alfheim and of course, Valhalla. I read everyone else’s mind all the time, and most people are…bland. There is so much more to life than managing kids and nine-to-five jobs, you know?”
“And what, do you think being a superhero is going to be more fun? They are going to use you like a human algorithm, Aaron. You will probably be profiling potential muggers and serial killers, or compiling consumer profiles to help tech or consumer goods companies.
And yeah, people being bland can be a drag sometimes, but Asgard and the other eight realms, those places are still positively medieval. Balder has tried to modernize Asgard and its allies a couple of times, but that barely takes.”
Loki stopped by a small, rocky hill overlooking a playground. She took the leash off Wednesday, prompting Aaron to do the same with Keighley. Wednesday bounded, running centers around the hill, playfully egging Keighley on every few seconds. The two climbed to the top, carefully mounting the sharp, jagged terrain, joining a dozen others at the top.
“This reminds me of the fjords from home,” Loki said. “I will be darned if I remember which home though. That drives me crazy sometimes. Having competing sets of memories fighting for my attention.”
“Now tell me this, Aaron,” Loki asked, sitting down on the hilltop, “Are we here because you find me cute, or is it because you have this hard on for Norse mythology?”
“Really, are we doing this now? What happened to this not being a date?” Aaron asked, a sheepish, shit-eating grin plastered on his oval features.
“It’s definitely not a date. Still, I have noticed that you have been trying to come out of your shell lately. And I was wondering how I figured into that?”
“I want to say “just friends”, but then I would probably be jinxing it,” Aaron admitted. “I enjoy your company, but at the same time, I am not looking for anything serious right now, especially after how things ended with Faiza.
Anyways, what’s up with you and Parson’s? You are still here, almost one years later, slumming it up with us mortals.”
“There isn’t an end to learning, Aaron. I mean yeah I have this whole goddess thing going on, but I am still just a twenty two year old girl. I need socialization as much as anyone else. Also I already went through the American High School experience. Might as well as commit the full way and graduate from an actual college.
My life is plenty weird already. Having some semblance of normalcy helps me stay grounded. And besides, I get to meet and interact with all of these other people my age who also happen to be brilliant and/or cool. Hunter Moore, Nate Waid, even Jim Carter. They are so caught up in their own stories, you know? “
“I probed their minds, back when they were giving us the orientation tour. They are pretty cool, but they are also suffering from heapfuls of daddy issues. They have enough angst between the three of them to fuel a YA trilogy.”
“Ooh, is it the exciting kind of YA or the purely yuck variety?”
“I wouldn’t know. The only YA I read was the Hunger Games, and that was very meh, all things considered.”
“I don’t know, Aaron,” Loki said, drawing her knees close to her chin. “Katniss is a pretty badass protagonist. They could definitely do without that Bor-damned love triangle though, I will give you that.”
Aaron nodded, pensiveness descending down from his furrowed brows into his eyes. “You ever thinking of going back there? To Asgard?”
“Sometimes. I guess we have to go back there eventually. Or at least visit, from time to time. It feels barely like home at this point, but you can’t really ignore your roots, at the end of the day.
Like, you have seen that Sherlock episode where Cumbersnatch talks about the Merchant of Samsara, right? You can only avoid something for so long. It catches up with you, eventually.”
Aaron pressed his palm against his mouth, muffled laughter filtering through his fingers. “Cumbersnatch, huh? You are a real geek, aren’t you?”
Loki nodded vigorously. “Yes, and proud of it. Now let’s round up Wednesday and Keighley and check out those food carts back at the Circle. I am kinda starving, if you can’t tell.”
“Aren’t the food carts here a little bit expensive?”
Loki smirked, her fingers moving in concert, manifesting two golden coins between her ring and index fingers. “You forget that I am rich. Come, Aaron. Our food awaits.”
~*~
“Alright, Hank. Level with me,” Thor said, circling Hank with careful, soft steps. “What’s holding you back?”
“It’s a difficult scene, Thor. I am trying to get into the zone, but this character, it hits too close to home.”
Thor paused, taking a moment to check on the other students spread across the theater hall. He felt a kinship with them: they were all journeymen, like he once was, trying to find their way in an ever changing world, taking a gamble on themselves to do what they loved.
Thor turned his attention back to Hank. The man looked troubled, his knees knocking against each other and hands pressed against thighs.
“You grew up in an abusive home?” Thor asked.
“Yeah,” Hank said, surprised at Thor’s deduction. “You could tell?”
“It’s the way you were reading those lines. Try to put some distance between your own experiences and what Frank, your character is supposed to do. Try to get in his head. He’s just found out that his wife lied to him. Figure out why that makes him mad, mad enough to wreck their home and break his hand. Try to understand how he’s fighting that rage. In his head, it’s either the wall or Amanda. It’s a simple choice.”
“That’s why he isn’t confronting her right away, isn’t it?” Hank asked, shifting in his chair. “He’s still afraid of what he might do if does that when he’s this angry. But it’s just creating a recipe for disaster down the line.”
Thor nodded, rising from his seat. “You workshopped this with Sophie, right? Let’s get her here on stage, see if we can use her insights. You keep studying the scene in the meanwhile. Get Carey to read lines with you.”
Thor excused himself, retreating to the dressing room. He looked at his wrist watch: it was almost 8 pm. That was as good a time as any.
He walked towards the lockers, opening his own, digging into his backpack. He grabbed the two phials, picking one capsule each, gulping them down with Gatorade.
“I wish you didn’t have to take them, Thor,” Sophie said, concern apparent on her pained expression. “It took me a while to get off meds. I was mostly a zombie the entire time I was taking them.”
Thor nodded, smiling weakly. “These are different, Sophie. New stuff, from Pantheon’s drug trials. They are adjusting dosages to see what works for me.”
“But you were doing so well before,” Sophie said, drawing closer, hand reaching for Thor’s shoulder. She lightly massaged his neck, staring solemnly into the dressing mirror, observing the dark circles under Thor’s eyes. “And you said your new therapist is pretty good too, right? Isn’t it hard, trying to teach- or even to act- when doped up on such powerful meds?”
“It’s harder than usual, yes,” Thor said, turning to face Sophie, cupping her cheeks. “But I will persevere. Dark dreams have been troubling my thoughts. I see war and thunder, resulting in ruin and madness. I fear that the final Ragnarok is drawing near.”
Sophie nodded. “You will be okay, babe. We are here on Earth, millions of miles away from Asgard. You left its shores a lifetime ago. Try to build what you have here right now.
Have you heard from Fred yet? He was shopping around your American Ragnarok screenplay, right?”
“Yes, he was. I don’t know how that will work out. I am still not sure redoing the first Ragnarok as a suburban family drama is inspired or stupid. Probably a little bit of both.”
Sophie’s lips twitched, slanting to the right, mischief dancing around her eyes. “You are a better writer than you think, Thor. I mean, you have to be right? You literally have thousands of years of experience. You have loads of things to say.”
Thor chuckled, scratching his beard. “Not all of that’s meaningful. I fought, reveled and governed. Us gods, we are simple by design. It’s hard, working against one’s natural programming. But that’s the path I chose. So that’s what I must do.”
Sophie straightened, grabbing her cellphone from the dressing table. “Don’t think so much about it, okay? You are Thor. Actor, writer, occasional superhero. You are doing fine. Keep saying that to yourself until it sticks.
I am going back to the hall. Break’s almost over. See you there in five.”
Thor watched her leave. She understood him better than he understood himself. Perhaps, it was because she held no pretensions of grandeur or destiny.
Thor sat on one of the the small, spindly chairs by the dressing table, taking a hard look at his reflection. He was Thor, son of Odin, god of thunder. He had lead armies into countless battles. He had ruled Asgard nine times.
He was fine. He was going to grab depression by the throat and punch its teeth in.
Suddenly, his reflection swayed, a ripple reverberating from the center. It suddenly changed, showing a lustrous chamber lined with silver and gold. Three individuals stood by a table, staring evenly at Thor. These were the last three people he wanted to see today, or any other day.
“Greetings, boy,” Odin said, hand clasped around his garter belt. “It’s been a while.”
Thor rose from his seat and bowed. “Greetings, All-Father.”
“Rise, my son,” Freyja said, glowing with mirth and relief. “You are equal to us. And you have humbled yourself already.”
“Ho, brother!” Balder said, grinning. “We tried to reach you, but we found you nonresponsive.”
“What was I supposed to say?” Thor asked.
“A Hello would have sufficed, son,” Freyja joked. “We have need of you. And your sister. Great change is afoot in Asgard, and the other realms too.”
“Good changes, I hope?” Thor asked. “Or am I being asked once again to clear up other people’s mess?”
Odin scoffed. “You have a very dim view of your kinsmen. We have worked hard in the few thousand years you have been away. Balder will tell you all of it. He’s been busy with a new experiment with governance as of late.”
“I believe mortals call it democracy, brother,” Balder said, and his grin expanded even further. “We are holding elections for townships and cities. I am traveling to Alfheim the week after. You must come with me.”
Thor smiled, despite himself. On one hand, he still hated his father. On the other hand, he was clearly very old and seeking to bury past quarrels. And Thor would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by Balder’s experiment.
“Give me time, Father. I have responsibilities here that I must tend to. Besides, even if I return, it will be on a temporary basis. I have work to do, and Loki has her studies.”
“I see,” Odin said, a tiny smile blooming around his vast beard. “Bring her here, too. Show her around Asgard. She was still a child when you absconded to Midgard.”
“Yes, son. Bring her along. I miss her as dearly as I miss you.”
Thor nodded. “That I will. Now is there anything else? My five minutes are almost up.”
Odin shook his head. “You should have checked your mail first, boy. That would have saved you this trouble. Farewell.”
The mirror rippled again, before returning to normal. Thor took a deep breath and then exhaled, reaching into his backpack again for a breath mint.
He had half a mind to piss off and forget the entire conversation. But Asgard was still his home. And if Odin had asked for both him and Loki, then surely there was more afoot than it appeared to the naked eye.
Thor reached into his pocket, unlocking his smartphone. “I have news,” he texted to Loki. “We are to return to Asgard in a few days.”
“Really? What happened to saying fuck off and staying put?”
“Circumstances have changed. I believe it’s time. You have been getting the same visions, haven’t you?”
“Yes. But I was hoping they would go away. This sucks, you know?
P.S: I am not going there, like, permanently. School starts in August.”
“Relax, sister. We will back on Earth by then. Anyways, how did that date go?”
“It was okay. And it was not a date! Aaron said so too.”
“Whatever suits you. Pack lightly. We will look out of place in Asgard anyways.”
“Will do. Also, please, please, please ask Sophie to join us too. It will be so much fun!”
Thor frowned. “Is it a good idea to expose her to godly matters in such a way?”
“Oh you buffoon. She’s the girl you want to spend the rest of your life with, right? The least you can do is to take her with you to meet your parents.”
Thor was stumped. That was indeed a good logic. “Alright, alright. Btw, you still owe me some Hershey’s.”
“What Hershey’s?”
“Haha, very funny, Loki. Have some ready by tomorrow morning.”
Thor exited the dressing room, marching straight towards the stage. Sophie was busy deconstructing Hank’s scene, walking him through his character’s mindset and actions. Thor cleared his throat, motioning Sophie to join him near the stairs.
“What’s up?” Sophie asked.
“Umm, we have been summoned. Loki and I. To Asgard. And I was wondering if you could join us.”
Sophie grinned. “Does that mean I get to see the Rainbow Bridge?”
“Probably. It’s very hard to miss.”
“That’s all I needed to hear. We will work out the rest of the details after class, right?”
“Sure. And Thanks.”
“What for?” Sophie asked.
“You know what it’s for,” Thor grasped her hand, massaging her knuckles. “Let’s go out later tonight.”
“Sure. Restaurant or bar?”
Thor laughed. “Don’t make me choose.”
Sophie sighed. “Alright, bar it is. Just don’t regret it when you are handling my drunk ass self a few hours later.”
“That I won’t.”
As Sophie returned to her scene partner- and Thor paired up with Angela- he felt a balm of relief spread from his core to his limbs. Still, the nascent clouds of concern grew inside his head. Instinctively, his mind shot back to snippets of memories from his past lives.
Death waited for him, with more patience than the slowest turtle and more coldness than the fastest blizzard. And surely, death waited for Asgard too, along with all the other realms.
Much had changed since Thor first breathed air. Towns had grown into cities, then into countries and empires. Gods had risen and fallen. Life had spread to- and been snuffed out of- countless planets.
But what awaited him was Ragnarok. And Ragnarok never changes.
~*~
This is an original multi-chapter story that will be updated periodically, taking place in the same universe as Dreamenders.