Contest of Champions

27

My room, for all of the space it affords me, is giving me claustrophobia, which I don't understand, for I do not suffer from claustrophobia. I pace around the room, feeling like a captive in the dungeons of Asgard. When we were children, Thor locked me up in one of the cells down there once and it took a long while before Frigga found me, sitting against the wall and staring out through the golden, flickering energy barrier keeping me from freedom.

This reminds me of that. But no one is going to come and set me free this time; they'll only release me into a bigger prison.

What are you the god of again?

The question rattles around inside my head. Why did Hela end what might have been her last conversation with me with that question? I am the goddess of death. What are you the god of again?

What was she trying to say? Was she implying that I couldn't win, that my skill with a dagger wouldn't save me? That my powers are insignificant compared to hers? It sounded like she was completely writing me off – what happened to her talking about helping me in the arena?

What are you the god of again?

I can't take it anymore. Opening my door, I stride quickly down the corridor towards the balcony, searching for fresh air and an end to the question circling my brain. I step outside and suck in a deep breath of the night air. The cool wind seems to purify me and despite the impending doom I'll be facing tomorrow, I feel better.

I always liked heights, and I walk right to the edge of the balcony, flinging my arms out and basking in the feeling that freefall is a step away. It's the risk, the danger of it all, the fact that I'm currently on firm footing but suddenly, I might not be.

It's a feeling that summarizes my life and my relationship with my father, in which there's more terrifying freefall than firm footing.

It's one reason among many that Gamora and I meet up in the mountains. Besides the peacefulness and solitude, the heights clear my mind and, I believe, hers. Neither of us is frightened by being high up in the air, although perhaps we should be.

Do I dare admit that I miss her?

Before I am allowed to dwell on that thought, I see the darkness below me growing softer and lighter. I know it isn't the sun by any chance, but I dismiss it as a glimmer from the city stretched out below me and Gamora rises back to the front of my mind.

What would she say to me now?

My fingers clench and I remember her embracing me. "Promise me you'll win."

I swore to her I would.

"Whatever it takes," I say aloud.

"To do what?"

I almost jump off the balcony, I'm so startled. The smirk I can hear in the words alerts me immediately to the intruder. I whirl around to see Veers standing on the balcony behind me, the glow fading from her hands.

For a moment, I'm at a loss for words. Then I narrow my eyes and find something to say. "How did you get up here?"

Veers lifts her hands as if she's going to shrug, her fingers in fists. "I fly."

I raise an eyebrow. "You fly?" My voice is skeptical.

Veers nods. "I fly."

I look at her skeptically. "How would you be able to fly from your level to mine? Contenders aren't supposed to leave their floors."

Veers smirks. "The security for Avengers Tower is meant to prevent us from falling down, not flying up." There's silence as she walks up to stand beside me. She glances over at me but says nothing.