ASGARD,
YEAR 1047
Loki's wife produced another heir three years after the princess's birth. Loki was delighted that his wife had given him another son. While Astrith lay in the nursery's crib, Loki brought her newborn brother to meet Odin.
Odin was pleased with the handsome child his son had produced with his wife. "Loki, what will you be naming this young boy?" He held the baby in his arms.
Loki smiled at the man who raised him, "Adari.. shall be his name." He moved next to Odin and let his son grab his finger.
Odin chuckled as the baby prince yawned softly and began to fall asleep. "He shall make a fine king one day. I will arrange the union for his future."
Loki nodded to Odin, holding his arms open as the Allfather returned his son to him. He then returned to the nursery, laying the child next to Astrith. The happy father watched as the three-year-old female wrapped her arm around her newborn brother. Loki could tell that the two siblings would be extremely close in the future.
Alfheim, Kings Study
Standing on the balcony in his study and gazing out at the sun as it sets over the Land of Light, the King released a loud sigh. He turned his gaze back to his desk and approached with hesitation. The King took the quill from its stand and wrote a letter. The letter reads, "Odin. With a heavy heart, I proceed to author this letter of distress. I regret to inform you that my son, Prince Adjeon, has been killed. My Queen and I discovered the news this morning and are devastated. It is not until this night that I compose myself long enough to start this letter of dread."
Cadeus' heart weighed in on the immense grief for the untimely death of his son. If he could wish to return his flesh and blood from the dead, he would do so instantly. His eyes watered about midway through writing his letter to Odin. His emotions took over as he slowly broke down before his writing desk, unaware that Amberle was standing under the entry just outside his study. "CURSE ME!" Cadeus sobbed loudly, "L-little Adjeon did not deserve such... such a dark gift of death! Hel should have taken me, not him! Me...!"
Amberle, the wife of Cadeus and Queen of Alfheim, was standing outside the door of his study. She heard his words and pressed her hand close to her chest, wishing she hadn't. Her gentle hand reached up, and she knocked lightly against the oak door. "Cadeus, my love?" The news of Adjeon's death had brought darkness into the castle. Their place of happiness was now a place of anguish and heartbreak for the royal family. They had taken the loss hard, but Amberle knew they had to maintain themselves, especially in front of a crowd. Knowing he was writing an urgent letter to Odin about the incident, she didn't want to disturb him, but she had found something in the nursery. Again, she called to him, "Cadeus...?"
Cadeus rubbed his forehead, wiping away the tears running down his face before gazing at his wife. "Whatever it is, darling, out with it," He grumbled in the middle of his light sobs. He tried, in vain, to pull himself together. He wished he could regain his composure before addressing the expectant crowd. "I feel as though Lord Vali hath placed a dark curse upon our house... If He were not the one who claimed our son's life, then Hel would undoubtedly be the culprit. DAMN THEM BOTH!" He slammed his fists on the desk, throwing the letter off in a fury, but stopped before frightening Amberle away, "Oh, my Queen..." He sighed, "This is unfair to us, our kingdom, and our unity..."
Amberle was quite surprised when he yelled at her, but she kept her composure and approached him. "My love, if Lord Vali and Hel are the culprits, it may be for a good reason. However," She holds out what she'd found, a Dark Elf spear. "Perhaps this disproves both of those theories... I found it while sitting in the nursery, not more than a half-hour ago." She clenched it in her fist, "I think our son...was killed by Dokkalfar." She said softly, closing her eyes. A tear ran down her cheek, "But it... cannot be so. Dark Elves are forbidden from entering our kingdom."
"What...?" Approaching his wife to scrutinize the spear, the Alfheim King fell silent for a minute, trying to figure out what may have transpired behind their backs. Was their son genuinely dead? Or perhaps... did something else befell little Adjeon's fate? "I will alert the allied Kings of this incident, but there is one thing that I need you to do, Amberle." Cadeus paused, motioning his attention towards the sky behind them, outside the window. The view displayed several areas of the Alfheimr Palace, including one of the many beautiful gardens where one of their maidens strolled through.
Cadeus knew her as the Lady Vanya. She was a mysterious oracle who was a handmaiden to one of the Court's prominent families. She was a woman with pastel pink flowing hair and a mystical gleam in her eyes, impossible to miss. "Tell Vanya of the news. She knows Odin better than I. We shall remain here as planned but pass on what happened this day to her. She will know what to do." Cadeus takes Amberle's hands, "Do you trust me?"
Amberle gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, "Yes, my love. I trust you with all my soul. Do not worry. Vanya will receive this message." She pulled his head down and kissed his forehead before walking out of the room towards the garden. The queen quickly walked to the gardens, ignoring the servants she passed, who bowed to her until she spotted the beautiful pink-haired young elf. "Vanya, yes?" Amberle brushed her light hair behind her ears. There wasn't much time for talk; the message needed to be received quickly.
Surprised to see the Queen approach her urgently, Vanya was moved quite a bit. She quickly knelt before Amberle before answering her Majesty, "Yes, Queen Amberle?" she asked softly, "You seem to be thrashing about. Are you alright...?"
"Rise, Vanya. I have an urgent message from Cadeus to Odin. May I count on you to deliver this with great urgency?" She lifted the pink-haired elf's hands. Her cerulean eyes held the pain of loss. Amberle was not about to give up hope that her son was alive; she could sense that he was somewhere. But her husband believed that their child was no more.
"Our son, Adjeon, has been snatched away in the night. My husband had begun writing a letter to Odin, but when he learned what I'd found... he asked me to speak with you instead." The Queen said to Vanya, still holding the young elf's hands.
"You may rely on me, your Majesty," Vanya agreed before wondering what situation would unfold. If Adjeon was still alive, where could he have been taken to? This tragedy, however, rang a familiar bell in Vanya's heart as her eyes widened slightly, and she carefully picked her following words for the Queen to hear, "Milady, if I may...I have seen this before with another child, much like yours. Perhaps there is a beacon of hope in your son as there is for the other boy...?"
Amberle recognized a kindred heart in Vanya. "Perhaps there is hope for the lost child...wherever they may be, let Lord Vali's spirit keep them alive." The Queen said softly and set her hand against Vanya's shoulder. "We shall see...but please, take this message and this evidence to the All-Father.."
She handed Vanya the broken Dark Elf spear and spoke the message as Cadeus had told her. However, she also gave the letter that her husband had begun in his private study. "Relay this message to Odin and allow him to study the spear. Then we shall bring the Dökkálfar (Dark Elves) to trial."
"Certainly," Vanya nodded, taking the spear from Amberle's possession just moments before she closed her eyes, instantly teleporting herself to the Asgardian Palace... precisely one of the gardens. This garden, in particular, had Odin wandering within, as well as Frigga and the Young Prince Þórr (Thor; ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱ). Only the Lord Vali knew where Loki went. Approaching the royals discreetly, Vanya made herself known to the three by clearing her throat and bowing slightly, showing them the broken spear before them. "My King," Vanya spoke softly to Odin, "I am afraid I have disheartening news of Alfheim's heir... Dark Elven forces have snatched Prince Adjeon. We know not where he is, but hope remains steady that he may be found alive wherever he is."
Frigga's hand reached her chest, and she was a bit shocked, but then it suddenly struck her side, slowly taking her husband's hand. "My dear, what are we to do?" She asked softly, staring into the solemn eye of Allfather Odin.
Thor was just as shocked as his stepmother and gripped the hilt of his sword. "We shall storm Svartalfheim and force their foolish King to tell us where they have hidden the young Prince Adjeon!" Pulling his sword from his scabbard, he grunted lightly and turned to look at his father.
Odin raised his hand, letting Thor know he needed to sheath his sword. "My son, do not think with thine anger. Storming into Svartalfheim will not only create more conflict between the Ljósálfar and Dökkálfar, but it will also create conflict between Asgard and Svartalfheim."
"I have seen a vision that resembles this as well," Vanya added randomly, turning her attention away from the Royals as she gazed upon a dim star in the vast sky. Unsure of how to recite the vision, she remained silent for a few moments before a calming breeze took wing, queuing her to explain her vision that related to the lost Prince as well as a frightening prediction, "A prince of Elves may have faded in the eyes of those who are blind to the truth. Yet another heir of an ill-fated realm, long forgotten, shall fall into the hands of his ancestor's enemy. One heir disappears....another emerges. Lord Vali granted me this vision, your Majesties...it may change, but until such a thing comes true...it shall remain unsettled." The group began to leave the gardens and slowly went to the throne room, where Odin took a better look at the spear Vanya had handed him.
Loki rushed into the throne room after hearing the news. "Allfather--!" He paused to catch his breath and stood up straight, staring into the eyes of his foster father. "Allfather, is it true? Has something happened to Alfheimr's Prince?" The raven-haired Prince's eyes widened when the Allfather nodded. "What does this mean?"
"It means Svartalfheim has declared war on Alfheimr!" Thor growled, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. He lightly sighed when Odin gave him a look that said 'Enough,' and he relaxed. "Father, I do not understand why you will not allow me to find and defend the little Prince. We know and have proof that Dokkalfar stole him!"
Loki was taken aback by this news. "Is that true?! Was King Mavalor so foolish as to risk war with Asgard and Alfheimr by murdering their young Prince? What has he to gain from doing all of this, Allfather?"
"IF he is doing this," Odin replied, his one eye closed. "The royalty of Svartalfheim have never taken such action as this before. There must be something else going on, or even nothing at all. Mavalor could have absolutely nothing to do with Prince Adjeon's kidnapping. Someone else could be conspiring to bring about conflict."
"Do you think that Mavalor has nothing to do with this, father?" Thor asked, sighing as he placed his arm on Loki's shoulder. "It seems unlikely that he is naive about the situation."
"Indeed," Odin replied, his voice steady and contemplative. "But we must tread carefully. If we charge into Svartalfheim without understanding the full picture, we risk igniting a war that could consume not only Alfheim but Asgard as well."
Loki stepped forward, his mind racing. "Then what do we do? We cannot simply stand by while a child is in peril. Adjeon is innocent in all of this, and if the Dokkalfar are involved, they must be held accountable."
Frigga, ever the calming presence in times of strife, spoke softly, "Perhaps we should gather more information before making any decisions. Vanya, your vision might hold the key. What else did you see?"
Vanya looked up, her expression serious. "I saw shadows moving in the halls of Svartalfheim, whispers of a darker plot at work. There are forces at play that we do not yet understand. The Dokkalfar may have their own enemies, and they could be using Prince Adjeon as leverage against those foes."
Thor clenched his fists, frustration evident on his face. "So, we wait? While a child's life hangs in the balance?"
"Not idle," Odin interjected, his eye glinting with determination. "We will send scouts to Svartalfheim to gather intelligence. We need to learn more about King Mavalor's intentions and the political landscape before we act. In the meantime, we must fortify our defenses and prepare for any potential fallout."
Loki nodded, feeling a mix of urgency and resolve. "I will volunteer to lead the scouts. If there is a chance to find Adjeon, I will not hesitate."
"No," Odin replied firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "You are needed here, especially with the growing tensions. I cannot risk losing you as well. We need all our strength focused on the task ahead."
Frigga stepped in, her voice soothing yet firm. "Loki, perhaps it is best that you remain in Asgard. Your talents are needed here to unite our allies and prepare for what may come."
Loki sighed, feeling torn. "I understand, but it feels wrong to stay behind while others are in danger. I've faced darkness before; I can face it again."
"There will be time for that," Odin assured him. "But the safety of Asgard must come first. Your role is crucial in shaping our response. We cannot afford to act in haste."
Vanya interjected, "While the scouts gather information, I can delve deeper into my visions. If there is a way to locate Adjeon or uncover the truth behind this conspiracy, I will find it."
"Then that is what we shall do," Odin declared, his resolve solidifying. "We will work together to unearth the truth, and when the time comes, we will act decisively."
As the discussion drew to a close, Loki knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, but he also recognized that they were not alone in this struggle. The bonds of family and friendship would guide them through the darkness, and together, they would fight for the lost prince and the peace of their realms.
SVARTALFHEIM'S PALACE
King Mavalor sat on his obsidian throne in the heart of Svartalfheim, surrounded by the flickering shadows cast by the numerous torches lining the walls of his darkened chamber. The air was thick with tension, and an unsettling silence replaced the usual whispers of his court. Mavalor's mind raced with thoughts of his grand plan, a scheme that he believed would finally elevate the Dokkalfar above their ancient adversaries.
When the news arrived, it came wrapped in the form of a hooded messenger, who knelt before the throne, a trembling parchment in hand. Mavalor leaned forward, his silver hair glistening in the torchlight, as he commanded, "Speak and do so quickly. I have little patience for delays."
The messenger swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the floor. "Your Majesty, it is done. Prince Adjeon has been... eliminated. Our agents succeeded in their mission."
Mavalor felt a surge of triumph wash over him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of the messenger's next words. "However, I regret to inform you that your brother Rökan, sister-in-law Vira, and agent Xötach have been reported deceased in the process."
The news hit Mavalor like a dagger to the heart. His expression darkened, and his fists clenched at the armrests of the throne. "What do you mean, 'deceased'?" he spat, his voice a low growl.
The messenger flinched under Mavalor's fierce gaze. "The reports indicate The Great Beast ambushed them. They fought valiantly, but the sheer size of this beast was overwhelming. Rökan & Xötach's bodies were found but Vira's is missing, and it is believed they fell before they could return from completing their mission."
Mavalor's mind raced, furious at the unexpected turn of events. The death of his brother and alleged fate of his sister-in-law was a personal blow, one that reverberated through the very fabric of his ambitions. Rökan had been a fierce warrior and a key player in his plans to destabilize the alliances of the realms. Vira, with her cunning mind, had been instrumental in their strategic discussions. Lastly, Xötach, known for his stealth and ruthlessness, had been a crucial asset.
"Fools!" Mavalor barked, his voice echoing through the chamber. "They were supposed to be the vanguard of our strength! Their incompetence has cost us not only valuable lives but also the chance to solidify our power! Without them, we stand exposed and vulnerable."
The messenger dared to lift his eyes, sensing the danger of his King's wrath. "Your Majesty, we can still recover. The assassination of the prince will weaken Alfheim, and the chaos that ensues will serve our purpose."
Mavalor considered this for a moment, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Yes, perhaps you are right. The death of a royal heir will undoubtedly send shockwaves through their ranks. But we must be cautious; the Asgardians will not sit idly by. They will seek vengeance for their ally."
He leaned back on his throne, his mind working through the implications of this new reality. "We will need to fortify our defenses and prepare for retaliation. I want scouts sent out to find the bodies of my kin. We will not leave them to rot in the cave of that… animal. They deserve a proper burial, and we must ensure the message of their sacrifice reaches our people."
The messenger nodded, relief flooding through him as he noted the shift in Mavalor's demeanor. "At once, my King."
"And gather the council," Mavalor commanded, his voice regaining its steady, authoritative tone. "We must discuss our next move. The death of Prince Adjeon may have opened a door, but we must be prepared to walk through it wisely. The Dokkalfar will rise, and we will not let this opportunity slip through our fingers."
As the messenger hurried to fulfill the King's orders, Mavalor stared into the shadows of the chamber, his thoughts spiraling. The loss of his family weighed heavily on him, but it also ignited a fire within. If the death of Adjeon could sow discord among the realms, then perhaps it could also be the catalyst for something greater—a chance to seize power, avenge his family, and reshape the fate of Svartalfheim.
With a dark expression, Mavalor whispered to himself, "Let the darkness rise." The time for his reign was coming, and he would ensure it was marked by blood and vengeance, no matter the cost.
Lurking in the hallway outside was Guðný Rökansdottir, the daughter of Rökan and Vira and Mavalor's currently only known niece. When she heard the light footsteps of her cousin, she fled from the doorway. Mavalor looked up from his papers, hearing the separate distinct footfalls. He frowned lightly, a spy? He thought to himself.
As Mavalor plotted his next moves, the heavy wooden doors of the chamber swung open with a creak, revealing the slender figure of Tarivaan, the young prince of Svartalfheim. The boy, barely ten years old, stood hesitantly in the doorway, his wide eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. He had been playing in the gardens when he heard the raised voices echoing through the corridors, and something in his heart compelled him to investigate.
"Father?" Tarivaan ventured, stepping cautiously into the dim light of the throne room. His voice was soft, but it carried an unmistakable tremor of concern. "What is happening? I heard... I heard you speaking about Prince Adjeon."
Mavalor turned sharply, his expression shifting from calculated determination to surprise at the sight of his son. "Tarivaan! You should not be here!" he exclaimed, unable to fully mask the irritation in his tone. "This is no place for a child."
The young prince hesitated, his gaze darting between his father and the messenger, who stood awkwardly at the side, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I wanted to know if it's true," Tarivaan continued, his voice gaining strength. "Did you really have him killed?"
Mavalor's heart sank momentarily as he realized the implications of his son's inquiry. He had not intended for Tarivaan to hear of such grim matters, especially not at his young age. With a darkened stoic expression, "Yes," he replied. "Prince Adjeon's death is crucial to your rise, my son."
"There had to be another way!" Tarivaan insisted, stepping closer, his small frame filled with determination. "What if they retaliate?"
The king sighed, his frustration battling with his paternal instincts. "The dangers of our realm are many, Tarivaan. I have plans in motion to protect you and our kingdom. Getting rid of Adjeon was a necessary step to secure our future."
Tarivaan frowned a swirl of confusion and fear filling his eyes. "But he was just a child, like me. How could it be necessary to hurt someone innocent? Are we not better than that?"
The room fell silent, the weight of the young prince's words hanging heavily in the air. Mavalor felt a fleeting pang of guilt, but he quickly crushed it under the weight of his ambition. "Innocence is a luxury, Tarivaan. The world is not kind, and to survive, we must make brutal choices. Power is built on the bones of the weak."
"But at what cost, Father?" Tarivaan pressed, his youthful innocence shining through the darkness of the situation. "Every life is important. If we lose our compassion, what good is our power?"
Mavalor, momentarily taken aback by his son's insight, narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. "Compassion is a weakness, my son. It clouds judgment and leaves us vulnerable. The world is filled with enemies who would see us destroyed. If we do not act decisively, it will be our family that suffers, and I will not allow that."
Tarivaan took a step closer; his small hands clenched into fists. "Then let's find another way. We can be strong without hurting others. I want to help you, Father, but not like this."
Mavalor's gaze turned cold, the flicker of hope in his son's eyes igniting a fire of anger within him. "You think this is a game? Do you want to play the noble prince while the world burns around us? I have fought for everything we have, and I will not let some misguided notion of mercy stand in the way of our survival."
"Father, please—"
"Enough!" Mavalor's voice thundered, echoing off the stone walls. "Your idealism is naïve. Strength demands sacrifice, and if you cannot accept that, you will never understand what it means to lead. One day, you will see that mercy is a luxury we cannot afford."
Tarivaan's resolve faltered, but he stood firm, refusing to back down. "I will trust you, Father, but I will also seek the truth. I believe there is always a better way."
Mavalor felt a rush of conflicting emotions as he watched his son, the boy's conviction a stark contrast to the darkness he had embraced. Yet, he hardened his heart, knowing that the future of their kingdom depended on his unwavering resolve.
"Very well, Tarivaan. You will stay by my side, but you will keep your thoughts to yourself. The kingdom's future hangs in the balance, and we cannot afford dissent. We must present a united front, even if it means sacrificing your precious ideals."
"Always, Father," the boy replied, his voice steady though uncertainty still clouded his brow. Together, they turned to face the shadows of their kingdom, each holding on to their visions of the future—one forged in power and ruthlessness, the other clinging to a fragile hope.