I laid there in a heap, but it was as if I was stepping out of myself and watching. The man raised a war hammer and struck me on the back of my head. I couldn’t move, cry out, or even transform. Instead, I stood there, out of my body, in the form of an apparition, and watched them brutalize me.
“The threat is over. You can stop now,” one said to the other. “She shall breathe no more fire upon us.”
“Yes, it is a shame that she had to meet such an end.”
“The only way for Asgard to be safe from Ymir’s rising, is to be rid of the only one who could fulfill the prophecy, and since Baldr wouldn’t send her back, maybe this will be his lesson that Midgardians don’t belong here.”
“You were ever the bigot.”
“Aren’t we supposed to want Ymir to come back? He is our forefather.”
“He had the power to destroy the entire world, and all of the pantheons, not just the Norse ones. “
“Come, our duty here is done.”
I watched them scurry away, but the strong scent of frankincense and myrrh remained. Incense like I used to light, what felt like eons ago, in the Temple of Melqart and Baal.
As blood began to pool around me, an ancient voice rang out in my head, and words I did not know came forth.
Baldr raced into the room. The building shook as white rage caused every pore of his skin to illuminate with a light too bright to stare upon.
He cradled me in his arms. I couldn’t feel my legs, and a heat filled me—a heat that came from him.
“Oh, my love, I never should have left you to your own devices.”
He stared at me, and in that moment, I knew the truth—I saw the picture he’d seen before. Like a seed planted in fertile soil, I realized the truth: love. It should never be a burden. It protected. It upheld. It treasured.
It avenged.
Resurrected by his love, I thirsted for blood.
I could hear the world calling me, luring me away, but Baldr’s presence pulled me back.
Nothing else mattered but satisfaction.
I withdrew to where the voice took me, where the world was dark and barren, and only red lava flowed.
“Dive, dive,” it commanded, and I did.
I felt the heat on my scales and allowed the hot lava to pour over me. Sinking ever deeper down, ecstasy filled my senses, and the rich taste of sunlight in my mouth.
My body began to slowly heal.
Baldr
Breidablik—the Hall of Baldr
“Who did this to you?” Baldr asked Nanna, but her muttered words made no sense.
He carefully lifted her and carried her to her chambers. It was too late to call someone to assist him. He removed her blood-soaked gown and her undergarments and placed them in a heap to the side. Where her wounds should have been, there was only silky skin.
The prophecy foretold of the rising of Ymir, but this was not it. She was a mixture of fire and ice, earth and water, created out of the ash trees of old.
And those trees were to be watched over, protected by those of Asgard.
“She could be the key to releasing chaos between the realms,” his father had said as if that would have been the solution to his dilemma, but Baldr’s heart told him a different truth.
He shook his head. She was not darkness, but light. After tucking her into her cot, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and left her.
He meandered through the city, until he landed at the Bifrost Bridge, overlooking the galaxy, where Heimdall waited.
“Heimdall, a great violation has occurred tonight. Our security has been breached,” Baldr said. “Has anyone passed through the gate?”
“No, Baldr, I’m afraid that if someone has entered into Asgard, then they snuck in like thieves.”
“And did you not see them with your watchful eyes?”
“I see many things,” Heimdall paused. “And the men you seek have not yet left the city.”
Baldr nodded his head. “Madness beats at a man’s heart when his love is hurt.”
“Our way requires a transgression be repaid,” Heimdall responded.
“That it does.”
“Do you mean for me to gather Thor to assist you?”
“No, I don’t require his help. I can take care of this,” Baldr said.
He headed to the tavern, where the two assailants sat enjoying mead.
Asgard was a trade city. It was not strange for foreigners to be seen there, but as he sniffed the air, he smelled the scent of jasmine on the skin of those strange men. The same scent that had hung heavy in the air in his home, which they had sullied with their violence.
“Gentlemen, let us find reason,” he said and took a seat. “For it would seem you have done an awful thing on this day.”
“Who are you?” asked one of the men.
“He is surely not Thor, the one they use to fight all of their battles,” said the second man. He lifted his horn and drank, his shoulders moving with silent mirth.
“Yeah, he’s the other son.”
They both began to guffaw.
Strange to see it from this perspective and such disregard and dishonor. Baldr was still a god in his own right, but now, even mortal men believed him to be a fool and weak, unable to handle his battles or affairs. The white light he exuded began to dim.
“I am the son of Odin. My father’s blood pumps through this heart, and just as he defeated the giant Ymir and scattered his remains, I, too, am capable of bringing death.
“With what? A lecture on the history of Asgard?” one jeered.
“What will you do, bore us with details?” the other chimed in.
“All myths,” the first one laughed.
“Why have you come here?” Baldr demanded.
“Our lord said you’ve taken something
