Prelude to story 2

It was difficult to remember things. Though I cherished the life I now lived, it was not without moments of unease. At times, I sensed there had been something before—something important—but, like most days, the memory slipped through my grasp like mist.

I spent my time in this realm of magic soaring through the skies, training, and immersing myself in the joy of purpose. My Valkyrie sisters and I devoted countless hours to mastering our combat skills. We lived for discipline, but also for camaraderie. In the evenings, we made merry alongside the Einherjar, the honored warriors of Odin. Occasionally, the finest among us were selected to compete—Valkyrie against Einherjar in tests of strength and skill. After centuries of dedication, I was proud to be chosen.

During those rare competitions, the restrictions on my elemental gifts were lifted. I wielded them freely, and with their aid, I led my sisters to victory. Though friendly, the rivalry between Valkyrie and Einherjar was fierce. They were Odin’s shield—disciplined, formidable, and unwavering. We were the sword of Frigga—swift, sharp, and relentless.

The highest honor among us was to be chosen for rebirth, summoned back to Asgard in the time of greatest need to protect king or queen. But such occasions were rare. Whispers among us claimed that Ragnarok itself would come sooner than a Valkyrie being called again. It had not happened in many lifetimes. Still, we trained for that possibility—for excellence was a virtue we upheld above all.

The quietest moments, between training and feasts, were the most unsettling. My body would rest, but my mind wandered. And always, it wandered to the same place.

I spoke of it once to my sisters, but they did not understand. There was something—a presence—that called to me from Asgard. I could not name it, nor explain the pull. Of course, all in Valhalla were permitted to observe the realms. We watched from above, amused or intrigued by the lives of those below. It was entertainment. Distraction.

But for me, it was different. There was someone I could not stop watching.

At first, I believed it was because he was the son of my queen. Frigga’s children were worthy of any Valkyrie’s protection. Yet, as the years passed, I came to realize that my fascination was not divided between her sons. It belonged entirely to the younger.

If it were merely a matter of guardianship, I would have felt the same pull toward the elder—Thor, the golden warrior, beloved and brave. He had the heart and strength to win the admiration of any Valkyrie. Yet it was not Thor who held my gaze.

It was his brother—the second son. The one of shadows and Seiðr. The prince who wielded deception like a blade and who wore his isolation like armor. He was cunning where Thor was bold, secretive where Thor was open. And yet, for reasons I could not fathom, I was drawn to him.

I spoke of it to no one, save Kara—my closest friend. She alone knew the truth.

“Aero, where are you?” I heard Kara call as I stood peering down once more.

“I am here,” I replied softly, not needing to turn. She always knew where to find me.

“You are watching him again, are you not?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away.

We had spoken of him many times. Both of us struggled to understand the minds of men—but this youngest son of the Queen was especially difficult to grasp. We had seen him mope and sulk for years. The only ones who seemed to care for him were his close relatives and a few loyal friends.

But slowly he changed. He grew cold—hard. His father began to use him as a weapon, a shadow in the dark. While his methods were nothing like the valor we trained for, we could still respect it. To carry out your king’s orders without hesitation, even if they went against your own nature, was a form of loyalty we understood.

Over time, his friends drifted. And he, in turn, drifted from them. Only his mother and his brother remained in his orbit for a time… and then even that began to fade.

I did not understand why the Queen continued to love him. He brought her nothing but sorrow. He spoke to her with cold words and colder eyes. Yet she would weep for him, search for him through her visions, cling to the hope of his return when others had long accepted his fall.

When it was revealed that he was not Æsir by blood but Jotun-born, I felt a strange sense of justice. Yet even then, the Queen’s love did not waver. He had tried to destroy his own kind. He shattered the Bifrost. He was cast into the void. And still, she mourned him.

It baffled me. He did not deserve her affection. He did not earn it. And yet…

He fascinated me.

It was strange to see him return from the void on Midgard. As expected of the creature he had become, he attempted to seize control—only to be stopped by his brother and an unlikely band of warriors. And yet, even that did not stop the Queen from loving him. The King wished to cast him out, but compromised for her sake. The son was imprisoned in the dungeons, but his mother continued to visit, to care for him, despite the coldness with which he treated her.

He did not welcome her. He wounded her with words, barely acknowledged her presence. And still, she came. And still, she wept—alone, in the privacy of her chambers, where none but the gods might see.

It was Kara who pulled me from my thoughts again.

“What is he doing now?” she asked, her voice light.

I shrugged, my gaze still locked on the distant realm. “He is sulking. Rude to his mother, as always, when she visits his cell.”

Kara laughed. “Oh, my little Aero. It is amusing, your fixation on him.”

I swatted her arm, though I could not help but smile.

“I am not fixated,” I said. “There is something about him… I do not know what. Perhaps he means to harm the Queen. Perhaps not. But there is something drawing me to him—and I will discover what it is.”

Kara nodded, the grin never leaving her face. “I know, sister. And if he ever does intend harm to our Queen, I do hope he is prepared for your wrath. Reborn or not, I swear—you would tear a hole through the gates of Valhalla to make him pay.”

I laughed softly—but in my heart, I knew she was right. Whatever tether bound me to him, I would follow it to its end.

Even if it led me into darkness.