For a fleeting moment, Loki racked his brain, wondering if he'd seen this man before.
But after mentally scanning Valhalla's residents, he found no match.
The eyepatch and cryptic half-smile sparked a fleeting sense of Odin, making his heart skip.
The feeling passed. Suspicion took over. A stranger by the burning World Tree? Trouble.
The man glanced at them, then turned back to his skewer.
Loki noticed he was roasting Asgardian fruit, sizzling rapidly near the flames, their skins charring, on the verge of igniting.
The man pulled them back, took a bite, unbothered by the heat, and nodded approvingly.
"Who are you?" Loki demanded.
The man answered cryptically, "You've come, children?"
Thor tilted his head. The words felt familiar yet off.
Loki frowned, readying a spell—first an illusion, then an attack.
"Stop, Loki. Near the World Tree, all magic flows through it. Casting now could turn you into a torch," the man warned.
Loki froze, his hidden fingers halting. The man hadn't even turned—how did he know?
What kind of power was this?
Loki's eyes darted, but he forced a smile. "May I ask who you are and why you're in Asgard?"
"Drop the flowery tone and fake grin, Loki. You know I hate that," the man said coldly, standing. "Isn't it normal for me to be in Valhalla?"
Rising from the cliff's edge, he plucked the fruit off the skewer and tossed it to Thor.
The skewer shrank, glowing gold in the firelight, morphing into a spear.
An ornate, golden spearhead, radiating solemn authority.
Gungnir, the Eternal Spear.
The one-eyed man gripped it, his aura unleashed—supreme, unchallenged.
"I am your father."
Loki's jaw dropped, struggling to process. Why did Odin look younger than him?
But Odin was the All-Father, able to shift forms, from ravens to kilometer-tall giants.
No wonder he and Thor couldn't find him. The old man had changed his face, hiding in Valhalla among the dead.
Was this what "Odin's Sleep" meant?
The blind right eye was Odin's hallmark.
Loki's doubt lasted a moment. Gungnir couldn't be faked. As an illusion master, he'd spot any visual trick.
His focus shifted.
Bowing, he shot a jealous glance at Thor.
Odin had given Thor all the roasted fruit. Why none for him?
Odin's actions often held metaphors. If the fruit symbolized Asgard after the fire, was Odin passing the realm to Thor?
Why? Loki was superior in every way. Why did Odin never see him?
His mind churned, though his smile held.
Thor, oblivious, grinned, rubbing a fruit on his chest before eating, bowing slightly to Odin. "Why are you roasting fruit, Father?"
"I'm the King of the Gods. My realm's on fire," Odin replied, nodding for them to rise. "Sons, look at the burning World Tree. What do you think? I saw you trying to put it out."
"Yes, Father. Watch me douse it with a piss," Thor said, mouth full of fruit. The roasted treats weren't bad. He answered without thinking.
Young Odin didn't react, his single eye turning to Loki, his form glowing gold in the firelight.
"Loki, my youngest, answer."
Snapped from his scheming, Loki praised Thor politely before speaking.
"This fire's no ordinary blaze. We must analyze its cause and gather others to brainstorm solutions."
Odin neither nodded nor shook his head, turning to face the fire.
"My sons, you've said much, and well. But you're wrong. The true way to extinguish a fire is to let it burn out."
"What?" Thor dropped his half-eaten fruit, stunned. Let it burn?
But it made sense. When everything flammable was gone, the fire died. Still, letting the World Tree burn… wasn't that bad?
Loki's eyes flicked. Was Odin hinting at time? That outcomes required patience?
Did that mean he still had a shot at kingship?
He stayed silent, listening.
The three stood on a cliff near the World Tree, its roots piercing Asgard's ground, as if it had always been there.
Now it was a giant torch, turning life into light and heat.
"Don't be shocked, sons. This fire isn't mortal. Even I can't stop it. Today, I teach you a lesson," Odin said, planting Gungnir in the stone, arms crossed, gazing calmly at the blaze. "Where leaves dance, fire burns. Its shadow lights Asgard, and new leaves sprout. This is the Will of Fire."
Thor didn't get it but nodded, thinking it profound. The World Tree seemed useless anyway, and it'd regrow, right?
No big deal. No wonder Odin was casually roasting fruit.
"Father, I get it. Hold on, I'll grab a couple of cows. For the Will of Fire, we should feast!" Thor said, grinning broadly, thumping his chest before flying off.
Loki saw deeper. Odin meant that as long as the Aesir endured, Asgard's destruction didn't matter.
Burned down countless times, it could be rebuilt with people. A metaphor of legacy.
Classic Odin. Facing an unquenchable fire, he stayed calm, using it to teach them. Worthy of the All-Father.
But Loki scoffed at Thor's cluelessness and evasion.
That brain for a king? It had to be him.
While Thor fetched beef, Loki flattered Odin. The god's young face showed satisfaction.
If Loki kept him this pleased, his future was bright.
Thor returned, two headless cows slung over his shoulders. A tap from Mjolnir had exploded their skulls.
Odin speared a cow with Gungnir, extending it to roast by the World Tree, occasionally sprinkling spices.
Loki fetched wine. They sat, sharing the beef.
Odin took a hind leg, Thor another. Loki got a smaller foreleg.
His face darkened briefly but cleared quickly.
The meat was tough, overcooked by the Tree's heat, but its divine nature gave it a spicy, addictive aroma.
All three ate happily. In their memory, Odin rarely dined so warmly with them.
Wasn't that nice? Did they prefer the All-Father's wrath, a Gungnir thrashing?
Thor, waving a leg, said, "Father, we should eat together more. Family's great."
"As long as you acknowledge me as your father, we can dine anytime," Odin said with a pointed chuckle.
Loki's heart tightened. A reminder he was still king, warning them not to eye the throne?
Odin had noticed his ambitions.
But Odin was aging fast. Despite his youthful look, his tone and movements were frail. Loki just needed to wait.
His thoughts raced, but he smiled, pouring wine for Odin and Thor before filling his own cup.
"What's that talk, Father? Of course you're our father. What else?" Thor said, gnawing his leg, wiping his mouth with his cloak, and chugging wine.
This warm feast was cozy. The old man knew how to live.
After a bit, Odin tossed his bone into the World Tree. It turned to ash instantly.
He glanced at the growing crowd, none daring to approach.
Time to leave. Frigga's arrival would complicate things.
"Sons, this feast pleased me, but business remains. I have tasks for you."
"Name it, Father," Thor said eagerly.
Loki stayed silent, eyes on Odin.
"Your tasks differ. Loki, represent me. Gather all Asgardians around the World Tree for a feast. Teach them the Will of Fire. Ensure everyone learns. Can you do it?"
"I obey," Loki said, bowing with a sly smile.
A test? Was Odin pitting him against Thor to see who performed better?
Odin's eye turned to Thor. "After the feast, muster all forces—palace guards, dungeon keepers—and attack Muspelheim. Surtur caused this fire. He must pay. Bring me his crown for my treasury."
"Got it, Father. I'll bring his crowned head!" Thor vowed.
Odin smiled, pleased. "Go. Don't seek me until it's done."
Leaning on Gungnir, he strode toward Valhalla, passing bowing crowds, leaving a strong silhouette that faded into the dark.
Thor and Loki locked eyes, sparks of rivalry flaring. They'd prove to their father who excelled.