The seas of Asgard are lively, and I feel life churning below as I venture along the cliffside. Asgardian horses trot along the beach.
Alas, I am not alone!
The horses rush past me, and behind them walks another being. Her hair is as golden as the sun and for a moment, I think she might be Freyja, saved. But alas, I do not know her.
As she approaches, I see that her ears are not pointed, but soft and round. A creature I have never seen before but have sung songs of to entertain.
“Who are you?” I ask the creature. She does not answer. “Where are you from?”
“I am from here.” Her voice is silk, singing to my poor soul.
Her answer confuses me. “But where is here?”
“Vanaheim.”
She is a Vanir. A sorceress.
“Is this not Asgard?” The palace of Thrudheim is at my back. This cannot be Vanaheim.
Instead of answering, she raises her hands and the light of her magic glows between them. She closes her eyes, which have turned white, and whispers a spell. Her magic radiates from her body. I feel the caress of it on my skin.
“What are you doing?”
“I am feeling for spirits.”
When she opens her eyes, blue colour returns, the tendrils of magic receding back into her body.
“What did you see?”
“Death and destruction, but also life.”
“What life?”
“All life.”
“How did you come here?”
“Through the light that saved us all.”
“We are not alone?”
“No, we are all gathered asone.”
“What do you mean?”
“We are one.”
“Speak plainly, sorceress.”
“I See only this world.”
“You See?”
“I am a Seer.”
“We are not in Asgard?”
“We are nowhere. We are everywhere.”
