"Do you know the difference between the Aesir gods and the Olympians?"
It was a rather baffling question, but Solomon answered anyway.
He fluently recited a passage from one of the three hundred volumes on Earth's pantheons compiled by the Supreme Sorcerer. He had deliberately chosen this excerpt, as comparisons between the Aesir and the Olympians—two fundamentally contrasting samples—were inevitable.
"The Aesir acquired physical bodies before gaining souls, while the Olympians were born with souls before forming bodies. Thus, the Aesir are subject to mortal limitations, whereas the Olympians are not. The Aesir's origins are tied to the First Godslaying Movement, serving as further evidence that chaos can evolve into order."
"Simple, but correct. Suited to mortal understanding," Athena remarked. "But you are not a mortal. I need you to go further, to expand with the knowledge I've given you—not just what's written in the Supreme Sorcerer's books."
Research from the Supreme Sorcerer had shown that the Olympians' physical forms developed later than their souls—bodies being mere vessels, lacking any genetic connection to the chthonic gods. The Aesir, however, began with flesh and were later infused with worship, trying to ignite divine sparks and ascend to godhood.
By comparison, the Aesir clearly had greater potential. Though according to Kamar-Taj's observation, despite the Asgardian royal family calling themselves gods, most Aesir could not rival other pantheons. Even so, Odin's long-standing plan had positioned the Aesir to eventually wield dominion over the Sea of Souls.
If events continued as Odin had intended, Asgard could collectively ascend to become truly immortal deities—securing their place among the gods.
Hidden insights and foresight—that was what Athena had been seeking.
"Back in the days of the Pantheon Council, the Aesir and the Vanir stood out among the gods. Each pantheon coveted what the other had, envious of what they themselves lacked. Of course, my father, the King of the Olympians, didn't see it that way… but reality proved he couldn't defeat Odin, who carried divine blood," Athena said as she directed young Lorna to serve pastries to the guests, all the while recounting ancient secrets to Solomon.
Her conversations with Solomon often veered into territory not meant for ordinary mortals like Lorna. Sometimes they discussed gods never written about in any text, sometimes bloody wars, sometimes even ghosts and nightmares—horrors so deeply etched into the human genome that they were beyond naming.
After Solomon began his relationship with the witch, Athena had clearly explained the origin of the deities who granted power and knowledge to the witches and sages—how they were tied to the First Godslaying Movement initiated by the Earth Mother. This time, she didn't ask Lorna to leave, perhaps believing it necessary for her to hear what they were discussing.
"I foresaw the fall of the King of the Gods long ago. It was inevitable. Even with divine blood, the Aesir are not immortal. Odin sought ascension, but time waits for no one. The Aesir, possessing only partial genetics of the chthonic gods, are not enough to realize his ambition." Athena took a sip of the pink champagne Bayonetta had bought, then thanked Lorna for the sweet pastry she brought. "You probably don't realize how much Odin envies your potential, my child." She casually pointed out that she already knew about Solomon's stigmata makeup. "Odin's power is fading, but even so, he still has enough strength for one final move. No one underestimates a dying beast—especially not the Father of the Gods."
"Why bring this up now?" Solomon asked suspiciously. "This whole conversation's felt off from the start."
"Seems you're not entirely dense, silly boy." Athena shot him a glance, then eyed the witch sitting on the sofa armrest. "You've still got his seed inside you. I didn't think you'd find time for that kind of thing. My child, don't you know he got into a bar fight and took a punch from some lowly Asgardian stonemason?"
Solomon couldn't stop himself from blurting out a particularly vulgar curse.
"Why didn't anyone tell me this?" He nearly set his wineglass down but then remembered he was in Athena's apartment, right beside a witch. Bayonetta's eyes narrowed, glaring at him. No one understood why Athena suddenly brought it up.
She placed her hand gently on the magus's shoulder.
Solomon felt her touch. He took a sip of wine, then decided to remain seated and question what Athena had said. "If I'm not mistaken, the Asgardian stonemason you're referring to is Professor Randolph. No matter how weak Odin's become, he wouldn't lose to a stonemason. If Odin had wanted to retaliate, we'd have seen Randolph's obituary in the papers the next day."
"Then let me ask you—why didn't he?" Athena countered. "Think it over, my child. Odin is a cruel and cunning ruler. Don't be fooled by appearances."
Even Jeanne, stuffing her face with sweets, paused to ponder Odin's motives. Lorna hopped over at just the right moment and plopped herself down on the other side of Solomon's sofa armrest—not nearly as graceful as Bayonetta, more like a fidgety little monkey, drawing chuckles.
Solomon reached over and gave her head a gentle pat, then answered.
"Odin knew I'd come to see him after hearing about what happened?"
"Half right," Athena raised her glass slightly in approval, just as she always had.
Whenever he bested her in one of her intricate chess-like games, or unearthed some pivotal clue in ancient tomes, or crafted a beautiful work of art—Athena always acknowledged his achievements in her own way.
She had her own plans and had even foreseen some of Solomon's future actions. But when it came to teaching Solomon, she put in far more effort than she did with others. Whatever else one might say, she truly lived up to the title of foster mother.
Solomon would never forget that time when she burned the pastries and, in a panic, reached into the oven bare-handed. He found her flustered, clumsy reaction absolutely adorable—something rarely seen.
"I think Odin wants to meet with you discreetly, and the best way to make that happen is to get you to go to him. That sly old man probably wants to make a few arrangements before he dies. And my advice? Stay as far away from him as possible. The dying have nothing left to lose."
She added, "Right now, you'd struggle to even hold off Odin's power. What's worse are the blades hiding in the shadows."
"Blades?" Bayonetta asked with biting sarcasm. "You mean he's trying to arrange a marriage for him?" The mockery in her voice was so sharp, it practically peeled Solomon's face off. "I distinctly remember that Asgardian woman stabbing him a few times while confessing her love. The scars are still there."
Bayonetta's pale gray eyes locked onto the magus. Her carefully maintained image as a refined, intellectual housewife shattered instantly—she was once again the razor-sharp witch. "Darling, is that what you're into? Have I been too gentle with you?"
"Odin also uses prophetic magic," Athena cut in just in time to save her son. "He's already seen how humanity's fate will change because of your existence. But I don't like that madwoman, Hela. So—do you know what to do now?"
(End of Chapter)
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