Asgard
(Asgardian training grounds)
In an open space surrounded by mountains and green trees,
a small, skinny boy with long golden hair was training. He repeatedly struck a wooden mannequin designed for warrior practice.
He was frail and small, yet he kept swinging his sword violently up and down with difficulty. His movements were messy and awkward; he moved like a beginner. Clearly, he had no natural talent for this—he was not a warrior, just a child. Sweat ran down his face and dripped to the ground. He struggled to hold the heavy sword; after all, he was still just a child. Even though he was Odin's son and stronger than average, he was still young and weak.
Adult Asgardian men observed the little prince from afar.
They were judging and analyzing the young prince, the future rightful heir to the throne of Asgard.
One Asgardian warrior said sarcastically while watching the prince:
'Look at the little prince of Asgard—can't even hold a sword properly. Come on, Thor, put some strength into your hands. Odin not feeding you right?' said Magnus, a burly Asgardian.
The men who were training wore armor and wielded weapons, exchanging blows among themselves. They paused when they heard this; the little princes were famous in Asgard. Soldiers liked gossiping about Odin's heirs, teasing Loki and Thor—it was a pastime for them.
The warriors who heard Magnus began to laugh at what he said and gossip discreetly, trying not to draw too much attention.
Thor heard Magnus and furrowed his brows. Was he weak? Yes. But he didn't like being reminded of it.
Thor stopped attacking the mannequin, released one hand from the sword, let the tip touch the ground, and turned around.
He turned and, in the most threatening tone his thin, childish voice could muster, spoke with irritation:
'Magnus, you bastard… Odin's blood runs through my veins. One day, I will be a king as great as him… enjoy this while you can, bastard… don't think I won't defeat you. Come face me if you're a real man, you bastard.'
The men heard Thor's words, exchanged glances, and after a brief pause, burst into hysterical laughter.
Magnus and the others laughed, but not out of contempt or any sense of superiority—they enjoyed the little prince's words and found them amusing.
'Well said, Thor!' shouted the men in the training camp.
'That's right, boy!'
Thor huffed, dropped his sword, and began walking when he noticed royal guards on horseback approaching the castle.
The guards wore armor and rode in formation.
They were heading toward him.
Thor, seeing them arrive, knew they had come to take him.
The guards drew closer.
At the front was a dark-skinned man.
He wore golden armor with horns and led the other soldiers.
His name was Heimdall. He was Asgard's protector, responsible for monitoring and securing Asgard. In his spare time, he also acted as Thor and Loki's caretaker.
Heimdall looked at Thor with intimidating eyes and extended his hand.
'Come on, Thor. Your father wants to see you… enough training for today,' Heimdall said, pulling Thor toward his horse.
Thor took his hand and asked:
'Yes, Heimdall… Father… am I in trouble?'
'No… you're not in trouble,' Heimdall replied, leading Thor to the palace.
They rode toward the palace.
From a distance, Thor saw the palace, also called his 'home.' It was crazy to think that one day all of this would be his responsibility—he would have to be king, to rule and protect this realm.
Thor was no ordinary child; he was a reincarnated soul who knew what would happen in the future and was eager to prepare for the coming events.
Heimdall noticed Thor's behavior and asked:
'Is something wrong, Your Highness?'
Thor replied…
'Heimdall… can you keep a secret for me?'
'Of course, Your Highness. I can keep a secret if it's nothing serious,' Heimdall said.
'I'm nervous… I don't know if I'll ever be able to handle this responsibility,' Thor said, resting his head on Heimdall's back.
Heimdall comforted him:
'Don't worry, Your Highness. It's normal to feel that way… but don't stress too much. I'm sure you will be a great king one day. You won't be alone—many people will support and help you until you're ready. I will protect you until you become an honorable warrior.'
Thor listened and murmured:
'Thank you, Heimdall.'
'I didn't hear that, Majesty…'
They rode a little further and entered the city.
Asgard shone brilliantly, with gold scattered throughout the city. Its architecture was Nordic, with huge wooden houses and buildings.
There was also a massive palace made entirely of gold.
Additionally, a rainbow bridge crossed a beautiful lake.
The city lay along the lake's edge.
As Thor was escorted back to the palace, he saw a little girl with black hair standing next to her father.
Like everyone else, she was curious about the soldiers' presence—they all wanted to see the prince.
Thor recognized her.
He raised his hands, waved, and shouted:
'Hi, Sif!'
Thor immediately jumped off the horse and ran toward the girl.
Heimdall turned, saw Thor leaping from the horse, and ordered everyone to stop.
Thor reached the girl, took her hand, and pulled her along.
'Come on, Sif…'
'Wait, Thor…' said Sif's father, holding her hand.
'Sif can't go with you this time, Thor… she has plans. Today, her mother and I have a family meeting,' Sif's father said.
'Really…? Seriously?' Thor asked, slightly disappointed.
Sif noticed his expression and asked:
'Dad… maybe another day I can train with Thor…?'
'Yes… but only at our house and without real swords. I don't want you going to the palace,' her father replied.
Thor listened and thanked him.
'Thank you.'
Thor was happy to train with Sif. She was far more skilled than him, and it was good to practice with someone at his level.
Thor didn't enjoy losing to her repeatedly, but what could he do? Asgardians were true monsters in strength from an early age.
Thor released Sif's hand and returned to Heimdall's horse.
'Let's go, Heimdall… I have a good feeling.'
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