Awakening the Light
Days in Asgard turned to weeks, and Celeste found herself both enthralled and overwhelmed by the world around her. Every day was a new challenge, a new lesson, a new test of her limits.
Frigga took a particular interest in her, sensing the struggle within. The Queen of Asgard was patient where others were not, guiding Celeste with a steady hand. It was she who taught her to channel focus, to stop fighting against the power inside her and instead, listen to it.
“Light is not something you control, Celeste,” Frigga had told her as they stood within the royal gardens, the stars twinkling above them. “It is something you become.”
Celeste didn’t understand—until one night, standing beneath the vast sky of Asgard, something within her shifted. It was not a sudden burst of power, not a dramatic revelation. It was quiet, subtle, like the first rays of dawn creeping over the horizon.
She held out her hand, and for the first time, light answered her call.
A small, flickering shape formed in her palm—unstable, wavering, but real. It was the first solid construct she had created since arriving in Asgard. The feeling of it sent a shiver down her spine. It was warm, humming, alive.
Thor watched with pride as she refined her skill, wielding her light as both weapon and shield. She sparred against Sif, their battles fierce, her strikes growing more precise. She ran alongside the Warriors Three, proving herself as one of their own. She stood beside Heimdall at the Bifrost, watching the cosmos unfold, understanding now that she was part of something far greater than herself.
And yet, despite all she was learning, she knew peace would not last. Darkness loomed on the horizon—she could feel it.
When Thor returned from Midgard, his expression grim, she knew the time for lessons was over.
The battle for the Nine Realms was about to begin.