Prologue

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"Do not fret, my sweet, sweet boy." A woman held a newly born child, softly brushing her finger across his tiny cheek. "For it will not be your story that ends today."

Simply speaking the words brought tears to her eyes. This was not a mother's wish, to let go as soon as she achieved grasp of something so dear. As if a golden bar slipped directly through her fingers, only that this child, was worth an infinite amount of precious resources.

Frigg held her child, attempting to seek as much motherly contact with the baby before he was gone from her reach for what might easily be the rest of time...

Ásgardr was silent to the drop of a pin. It's wide and glorious, prospering livelihood had come to a hold as the entire pantheon, drew a breath in anticipation for the newborn.

A man stood up from his throne, placing a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder as he overlooked the shining city that was now dimmed, hope little to none. Perhaps he could change that.

"Norse! Be you Aesir, Vanir, Jötunn, or not of this realm, we all stand here together with the promise of one very crucial emotion that not even I, the All Father, have ever been able to transcend."

"Hope." His voice magically traveled over the gathering of deities, common folk, monsters, myths, whatever you may name, they were there. The crowds reached to the ends of the realm, every single being held significance, and every being made sure to be present, for this was the end of their time.

"I always believed the end of the nine realms would come at the hands of Surtr and his little tooth pick he called a sword." The primordial Jötunn let a rare grin spread across his facial features. Even in the face of death, the old man still managed to crack a few jokes. "As many of you, I expected to pass in the heat of battle, something in which we have prided ourselves on since the beginning of time."

"Unfortunately, even we, cannot escape the forces of this universe. Everyone has their time, and we are experiencing ours."

Stepping forward, he reluctantly took his child from the hands of his wife. She looked distraught, filled with sorrow the moment she felt his light weight released from her grasp.

"However! I refuse to stand here and suffer through my final moments. For the last time as the All Father, I want to bring hope not just to my people, but all of the nine realms. For in this moment, you are all my people." He held the boy up. "As we are his."

"I ask you all, not as the All Father, but as a Norse. In brotherhood, in sisterhood, in love and hate, in death and in life, let us live on through this child."

"Wherever he goes, he will bring about greatness. He will not have an easy life, but then again, have any of us had one?" He held his hands up, asking the hordes of entities who roared in agreeance.

"As Norse, we suffer with the hope of greater peace in the end."

"I ask you to suffer with me now, so that this child may live with a greater peace in our end, and within his."

"Bless this child, provide him with a pantheon's greatness, a pantheon's support, a pantheon's love."

"We Norse, we do what we hate to do, and do it as if we love it!" He roared, a wave of prideful applause flew right back towards him as the cheers were almost deafening.

"WE FACE THE THINGS WE DO NOT WANT TO FACE."

"WE FEAR THE UNKNOWN, AND YET WE STEP FORWARD BEARING THE WIDEST OF GRINS."

"A mortal on Midgardr once told me, that everyone is blessed with individual sight, yet it has become a curse to them. People do not understand our visions, simply because they are not the ones envisioning it. How crazy must of we sounded, voicing our dreams to those around us? To those who could not of even fathomed what we believed we were capable of."

"No one believes in the vision, because they cannot see it, as we see it. WE WILL NOT LET OUR VISION BE QUIETED BY THOSE WHO DO NOT HAVE THE POWER TO BELIEVE!"

The roar was once again deafening, for the first time in existence, all nine realms came together as one. This roar spanned across worlds, across realties, across existence.

"For you, little one." He looked down at the child in his arms, paying little attention to his father's pantheon ending speech as he toyed with the rough, calloused finger within his tiny grasp.

Odin could only smile.

"I pray that though you may cry, you continue to walk. I pray that though you may hurt, you keep on walking. I pray that no matter how long you must walk, that you take each and every step as if it was your final one."

"I pray that you walk, even when you do not know where you are going."


"I pray for you. We all, pray for you."





"Perseus."























End Of Prologue

Perseus OdinsonDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora