Awakening (8-chapter challenge)

- Gabriel -

Five

It was like waking up. That's the only way Gabriel could describe what happened when the strange woman said the name. His name—Týr. There was a rush of memories, a raging fire that spread through him. At first, they were distant memories, not quite his own, he was watching them from the outside. And then, they became his, mixing old with new, spinning a whole new being.

The light was blinding, exploding through the pub with a powerful surge, and the warmth was inviting. A tentative hand came to rest on his cheek as the memories started to die down. He drew in a shaking breath and opened his eyes.

They were standing in the pub, the music playing, patrons laughing and drinking as if nothing happened. Perhaps to them, nothing did. But the colours, the sounds, everything was sharply focused, like Gabriel was looking through a high definition lens. He heard the exasperated, politically driven conversation between two friends on the other side of the pub, heard the sweet whispers between a pair of lovebirds tucked away in the back. He heard a burp from behind the kitchen and winced. Things were too sharp, too clear, but the intensity was not strange. It was right. It didn't take long for the world to settle around him.

The woman was watching him with tears in her eyes and a look of awe. There was familiarity in her, even though she was layered in oversized clothes, glasses and her hair was pinned up in a hasty bun. When she smiled, it was warmer than a hug, though recognition was absent. She realized her hand was still pressed against his cheek, and she dropped it quickly, her cheeks burning.

"I'm back," he whispered, not yet trusting his own voice.

Back after centuries. In a new world, in a new body. He raised his hands and let out a small laugh. A body that was whole. His sacrifice did not carry over into this new life.

"Back," the woman repeated. Then that smile slipped down, and she shook her head. "I don't understand, though... what happened?"

Gabriel sighed and looked around the pub. It was too crowded and too loud for any meaningful conversation.

"Come with me, Freya," he said, taking her by the elbow. She took a step and then wrenched her arm away with a suspicious glare.

"Freya? That's not my name—and I am not going anywhere with you," she sputtered. The name did nothing to trigger her. "Even if you're with my brother—" she frowned, glancing over her shoulder at the booth where she had been sitting. "Where did he go?"

She didn't know who she was or the power that was contained within her. He had a feeling there was only one person who could help her, though Gabriel didn't know where to look. This was so much bigger than he ever could have imagined but, she was right. Leo was nowhere to be found. Odd, considering he had insisted on being there for the meeting.

"Look, I'm your brother's friend," he said, "at least sit down and have a drink with me. I'll try to explain what I can." Which, to be honest, wasn't a lot.

But Madeline had her nose in her phone, her brown scrunched. "He always does this. Just leaves without warning."

Gods, she was beautiful. Freya had always had that allure around her, knew that she was stunning. When they were at their height of power, they never mingled together, their paths leading in separate directions. But she was always there, the beautiful and striking goddess. He'd always been drawn to her, her warm and beautiful light. Even layered in an oversized cardigan, her blonde hair bundled into a haphazard bun on top of her head, her glasses a shield, she was undeniably stunning.

Before Gabriel could stop himself, he reached forward and placed a hand over hers, stilling those lightning quick fingers. Her hands were so small and soft, not unlike her Vanir counterpart. "Leo's probably doing whatever Leo does. I can assure you, this is more important."