At home, I went straight to the guest room, which, over the course of my lifetime, had become the Library. Dressed only in a pair of shorts and a tanktop, I hoped that maybe taking off the weight of a full pair of jeans and a jacket would make it easier to . . . hell, make it easier to fly.
When I get a scary book, I mark all the freakiest parts with a black dot on the corner. I read the worst parts of the scariest books, hoping that maybe, if I startled myself, I could do it again. That maybe, I could fly again.
When my heart pounded after the eighth man was being torn apart by a zombie, I threw the book across the room, but when I jumped at the sound, I landed on my feet instantly.
I sighed angrily out of frustration, and swore as loudly as I could.
It was only the afternoon, did it only work in the morning?
I screamed then slipped on a book as a knock on the door broke the silence in the air. Hurrying to stand up, rubbing the sore spot on my backside, I grabbed a shirt to cover my bra straps, because hey, no one needed to see that. When I opened the door, Don Blake was standing on the porch.
“You wanted to talk to--”
Grabbing his shirt, I pulled him in the door, then peeked outside to see if anyone was around. “Doc, you aren't gonna believe this. . .” I muttered. “I went to Asgard this morning, right, and I saw Kelda!”
“Uh, huh. Kelda lives in Asgard. She's an Asgardian,” he retorted as he stared at me. He must have thought I was going crazy.
“That's not all, shut up and listen! Okay, she took me into the city,” I began, pacing as I talked, gesturing broadly as I lost myself in the exact events of the morning.
“We were walking down the street, through the market, and it was uper nice of her to do that for me because it must have been hard for her to see me after. . . well, yeah, anyway, we almost got hit by a psycho horse pullin' a cart! Right? Next thing I know, me and Kelda are standing on the turret of Balder's castle!”
“So, wait, you're telling me that--”
“I flew, Doc. I picked Kelda up, and flew, like, 300 feet,” I said, slowly, enunciating every word.
His blue eyes popped open, and his jaw dropped. “This is a Thor thing.”
A loud crack rang out as he tapped the floor with his walking stick, and with a loud thundering and a flash, Thor stood where he once did. I repeated the story to him, and his eyes grew wide too, like enormous blue orbs.
“Is it because I was in Asgard?” I asked.
“Aside from the fact that it is a floating city, Asgard now remains as mortal as the whole of Broxton. Perhaps. . . mayhap you have the gift an enhanced power, such as those of the mutant X-men?”
“No, both my parents are--”
“So are the parents of many mutants.”
“Aren't I too old to just be getting mutant powers? Fact is, Thor, I'm 17. Little late for puberty to be kicking me in the backside now.”
Thor looked pensively at Mjolnir, something he did pretty often when I asked him a serious question. Like he was looking for the answers inside it, an outward reflection of what was going on inside himself.
“I saw your brother, by the way, Balder. Was your dad hot?”
“I doubt I am a good judge of such matters. . . why do you ask?”
“Because you're both like, ridiculously gorgeous. Just wondering if it was a family thing.”
Changing back to the topic at hand, he asked, “have you tried to fly again?”
“I've only been reading the scariest books ever trying to freak myself out like I was when it happened. But. . . I can't recreate it. Fact is, reading a book is different, and I'm jumpin' off roofs all the time now. Nothing I can do will make it happen again. Maybe if I go back--”
“Not that you are not welcome to go back to Asgard, but returning will not make a difference. This is troubling. Can you think of anything that could have caused this?”
“I've been different since the Siege, you know that. But. . . nothing like this. This is totally different. This is me, flying. Like you.”
“I cannot fly. It is the power of Mjolnir that makes me do so--”
“That's it! Mjolnir! You're always doing your. . . Don-to-Thor thing right in front of me! Can Mjolnir rub off?” I asked.
“No. It will not have been Mjolnir. Mjonir's power only affects those worthy of the Thunder.”
“So I'm not worthy of the thunder?”
“You know that is not what I meant. I would allow you to attempt to pick it up, but when your mother returns from Oklahoma City, you would have some difficulty explaining the crater in the floor.”
“And you know I was kidding. But seriously, Thor, if I'm getting superpowers—oh my God, I just thought of something,” I said, my heart thundering as I remembered my dreams.
“What is it?” he asked, coming close enough for his breath to move strands of my hair.
“If I get superpowers. . . what if I turn into the Sentry?”
Thor sighed, then shook his head. “The Sentry was. . . he was not naturally a powerful being. The Sentry lost his mind as it was torn apart by the power of the Void. He was only a man. He did not know what he did.”
“Thor, come on, think about it. I didn't get these powers until I went near the Sentry. Until I watched him rip Ares apart. Until I saw the Void.”
He hooked Mjolnir to his belt and leaned against the wall beside me. “You fear becoming the Sentry? You fear harming others? Or do you fear losing your mind as he did?”
“All of those things.”
I looked at him and Thor put his huge hand on the back of my head, cradling my skull and my neck in his palm. “If you grow too powerful. . . if you become like the Sentry, which you will not, I make you this promise; I will do for you what I did for him, as much as it would hurt me to do so.”
I sighed. “Thanks Thor.”
He nodded once. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have a dad, but I might have started to remember what it felt like with Thor.
I have a dream where I'm not myself. But I am.
I stand in a hall in Asgard, wearing a low-cut white dress, with red embroidery around the sleeves that almost touch my elbows. Against my skin, the material feels like a soft breeze, and the skirt is so long that I have to hold it up.
At my side, Kelda stands, even more beautiful and regal than I. On my other side stands Thor, Mjolnir in his hand, but instead of his usual black and chain mail outfit, he's wearing a gray tunic and red cape, no helmet. No one is wearing a helmet, not even Balder, who stands near his throne.
It's a party, but there's a difference from this night and all other Asgardian parties-- this one is more like a ball than a feast. 'Women', you know the kind I'm talking about, have been banned from this night. Every Asgardian in their finest, at their finest.
The Sentry stands weakly in the center of the room, looking up at me, his eyes level with mine. “Stop the Norn stones,” he whispers, before he falls to the ground.
My eyes snapped open, and I looked around. The bell was ringing, another lunch spent falling asleep with a bag of pop tarts in my hand. I stood up and shoved half a pop tart in between my teeth, messenger bag over my shoulder as I picked up my book.
“Hey Mrs. Lafey,” I said as I put the book on the counter for her to check in, fixing my hair quickly.
“Norse mythology? You know, Anthy, we just got a new book on French Empire Fashions. I know you love Josephine Bonaparte,” she suggested.
“Ooh, I'll take that one too then,” I said, and I pushed them into my bag, hurrying to class. A whole day had gone by since I'd flown, and I was still left wondering how to do it again. Upstairs, in world history class, I pulled out my planner and wrote down the homework, as a gangly classmate walked over to me. “Hey, Anthy, you got those notes?” asked Ben, a guy I'd been going to school with for so long that a day without him asking to borrow my notes felt like a day out of step.
“Oh, yeah!” said with a smile, and I handed him the papers tucked in the front of my notebook book. “You're a lifesaver!”
“It's nothing,” I said.
“No, really! They'll sing your praises in Valhalla!” he said in a sing-song voice as he walked to his desk. I chuckled a little more than I should have, but it was funny and ironic.
Into the room walked a woman I didn't know, with long dark hair and brown eyes. But by no means was she plain. In fact, she was almost too pretty for this small town high school.
She had beautiful fair olive skin, tall, and man, shapely too, even under that white blouse. Eyebrows shot up, and I got that same feeling from her as I got from the Asgardians, that refreshing air that combined something new and something old.
“Say, where's Mr. Timauld?” asked a girl in the back. I snapped out of my reverie and looked down at my desk for a second, them back at the woman. She wasn't as pretty as I'd thought, but, I'd thought for sure that she was different.
“Your teacher is sick with the flu, unfortunately, but he'll be back sometime in the next couple of days,” she said. Her voice was unremarkable, and I leaned my elbow to the desk, holding my chin in my hand.
She looked at me, staring, and even though it was for just a second, it made me sit up and stare back defiantly. I didn't like her. Something about her, it just scared the crap outta me.
Mkay guys, things are heating up a little bit! Who is this strange woman that scares the crap outta Anthy? What does Anthy's second Sentry dream mean? And why are Thor and Balder so ridiculously good-looking!? All this and more in the next chapter of Asguardian! Okay, not all of it is gonna be answered, but these were the coolest questions. Thank you for reading!
ALL CHARACTER BELONG TO MARVEL AND THEIR RESPECTIVE AFFILIATES. EXCEPT FOR ANTHY.
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