Interlude Forseti
The truth is a strange thing.
It seems simple. It is simply the agreement of judgment with the reality of things. It seems simple, obvious. And yet it wasn't like that; the truth is not easy to catch. She was like a woman with many secrets. Seemingly obvious, flirtatious, but still slipped away. As if her smiles were just illusions.
It is not easy to find a thread of truth in a fabric full of lies. Because that's what the universe really was. It is not easy to be the God of Truth. See almost everything. No secrets, no lies or surprises. To see the soul of every being except one.
The God of Lies.
As if great relief had crept in Forseti's soul as it was time for Loki to be born. Forseti knew he had little time left, yet he felt the universe twinkle with anticipation. Because God of Mischief, Lies, Chaos was to be born. Forseti himself felt as if he had regained some of his strength. As if he were that young god with golden curls again who was crazy about the ladies of the court. And yet he was not allowed to be flirtatious and energetic for long. He was given the task of executing sentences. And soon his powers began to grow. It wasn't just detecting the truth anymore. He was starting to be more powerful than Heimdall.
He took a special liking of Hela. It was he who gave her a puppy, which later became the cruel Fenris.
Hela, despite being a weapon, was exceptional in its sharpness. She was simple and focused on her goals. And there was deep in her still that girl from Alfheim who longs for her mother and wants to please her father.
He remembered once. They were sitting on a bench near the training ground. The sun was already setting. They were all at Odin's victory feast. Hela could not attend the feast until she finished her daily training. Forseti would always come at the end of her training and give her a basket containing the treats from the feast (before Hela had will join, all the best dishes on the table was eaten), Hela's eyes were much more alive then, and her mouth could still laugh. She was no longer a child, but also not a mature goddess.
"Do you think my father really is a God of Wisdom?" she asked, nibbling at the apple. Her skin glistened from the sweat of training, and her black outfit was tight around her slim figure. Black hair was tangled and overlapped her eyes.
"I would have called him the God of Lies, were it not for the fact that this title is reserved for someone else," Forseti replied. Hela looked at him curiously, wanting him to continue.
"I know it. I feel a lack. That god is not here yet. But I will feel it when the time is right," Forseti said.
"You talk about it with hope," replied Hela, straightening her hair.
"Because that's hope. A God who will create and destroy with words," replied Forseti.
"I prefer strength to words. What can words do?" she laughed. Forseti shook his head. Odin's upbringing methods.
"You'd be surprised," said Forseti.
"Well, let's not talk about boring things anymore. Come on, let's see who is better" Hela threw a bow to him and they went to the training grounds to training archery.
Forseti often saw Hela's training sessions and always spoke to her after them. Although he liked her very much, Hela was like the other gods.
Arrogance. The greatest sin of the gods. Many gods overestimate their strength. They are blind and arrogant.
They won't be happy with Loki.
Someone who will laugh at them with a charm.
Someone who will dare to deceive them.
Someone who can lie to them with the clever truth.
Loki was coming, and truth and lie would intertwine like lovers in a marriage bed.
The truth is a strange thing; it is like a kite that flies over the skies, or the waves of a rushing river. It can feel like a sweet girl is gently fisting her lover's pink fingers. It can also be as cruel as the maw of a devouring chimera.
The gentleness of truth and its severity.
As if silent dust from the soil
Contrary to appearances, lying was simpler than the truth. Although despised. It seems complicated, difficult, and straining the soul. And yet a lot of it in the universe. It serves not only evil but also good.
Forseti watched everything
The cruel propaganda of the TVA.
The power of The Time Keepers.
The plotting Thanos.
The crazy plan of Ego.
The Malekith and his army in a dream.
The conference in the throne room of Surtur.
The King Laufey devising his political steps.
The Goddness of Death, Hela studying the Jormungand Ritual.
And the silhouettes of the Avengers who were coming.
Forseti was the keeper of the knowledge of reality, of its nature, of knowledge that he had at his fingertips, and which many have to earn through their lives. Everything he saw, heard, felt and tasted seemed to surround him. Like the march of humble daughters.
Endless numbers of worlds, souls, plants, stars, minerals, spaces swirled in his eyesight. And all of it seemed to be on fire. His eyes were hot coals. Infinity burned within them. Infinity!
Forseti waited for Loki's eyes.
The eyes that will give him a break first. Like a sip of fresh water from a well in the desert.
Each path leads to multiple endings. Loki's fate seems like a noose running down the insignia of time (past, present and future).
Time intertwines like hundreds of threads.
Forseti saw trees of all kinds grow. Rocks of any nature. A starry sky full of hundreds of civilizations. He saw it all.
As if the universe were a hand catching light in the hand and illuminating the depths of the cosmos. Captured fire burning in the vastness of the universe. In every sentient soul.
According to the human species, there will be voids and black holes in the future. And yet it is in them that the greatest sources of power and life are found.
First there was energy. And then mattery.
The largest of them is contained in the 6 Infinity Stones. Yet they too were nothing compared to the powers that ruled their Multivers.
There were many Multivers. Not one. Each Multiverse was managed by someone. There were actually two ways. Either total control or a war between the branches of a given Multiverse.The Multiverse has never waged a war with another Multiverse. They were too out of tune to do so. War has always been in the middle of one Multiverse between branches.
And yet there was a way.
Getting out of this snare.
Loki.
For doesn't he not find the third way?
Forseti can already hear his music. The music of the greatest enemy of TVA. Loki, a being that threatens them with mere existence.
The light of chaos fills Forseti's senses. He can hear it all the time. His hearing seems to extend from one side of reality to the next.
The sound of the helmet closing. Like a breaking out melody about a desperate attempt to save everyone. Except for himself.
The lightning sounds like a song about a broken brotherhood and the hope to rebuild it.
From moment to moment, firing a gun becomes more urgent. As if it still preferred about to redeem the old sins.
The arrow rushes, and its sound like an aria of a lost soul among spies, yet seeing salvation in a lie.
The flying shield like a rhapsody about the split between two worlds. The past and the future, and everything is frozen.
The glasses break with every transformation. Green anger breaks out of a weak body. Quietly humming about freedom from the shackles of anger.
A symphony worthy of Valhalla.
And its creator was, is and will be Loki.