Chapter 2: Mavuika and Hela
Time flowed like Asgard's golden waterfalls, rushing onward without end.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, Mavuika and Hela had grown from infants wrapped in swaddling clothes into spirited toddlers, their laughter and footsteps echoing through the grand halls of the palace. The polished marble floors and immense golden pillars bore witness to their endless games of chase.
On a bright and sunny afternoon, the tranquility of the eastern palace garden was shattered by the frantic patter of small feet.
"Sister! Look what I found in the Armory!"
Hela, her small frame wobbling under the immense weight, burst into the garden brandishing a training shortsword that was clearly far too heavy for her. Her silver-black hair, the color of a moonless night, was tied into a neat, short ponytail that bounced with every unsteady step. Her dark green eyes, sharp and intense even at such a young age, sparkled with the thrill of a treasure hunter who had just struck gold.
Mavuika, who had been kneeling to observe a shimmering, bioluminescent Asgardian flower, turned her head at the sound of her sister's voice. At six years old, her features were already taking on a defined, ethereal beauty. Her pale blonde hair, so light it was nearly transparent in the sunlight, had been meticulously braided into intricate patterns by their mother, Frigga. Her eyes were a warm, deep amber, and they held a profound calmness that seemed to transcend her years whenever she looked at someone.
"That's Volstagg's training sword," Mavuika stated, her voice as crisp and serene as the morning air. "He was searching for it just yesterday. You should put it back, Hela."
"But it's so cool!" Hela refused to relinquish her prize. She struggled to strike a menacing offensive pose, but the tip of the heavy sword drooped uncontrollably, its point scraping against the pristine garden stones. "I want to learn swordsmanship, just like the Valkyrie!"
"You can't even hold it steady," Mavuika pointed out matter-of-factly, walking over to her younger sister. "Besides, Mother said our formal training won't begin until the next season."
"I can't wait that long!" Hela pouted, her lower lip jutting out. Then, a new idea lit up her face, her green eyes flashing. "Sister, let's spar! We can use this!"
She heaved the sword with all her might, nearly toppling over from the effort. Mavuika moved in a blur, her small hands quickly supporting Hela's arm while she smoothly relieved her of the burdensome blade. With a quiet grunt, Mavuika placed the training sword—which was far too heavy for either of them—on a nearby marble flower stand.
"If you truly wish to compete, we can find another way," Mavuika said, a rare glint of mischief dancing in her amber eyes. She pointed towards the edge of the garden. "Do you see that apple tree over there? Whoever picks the highest Golden Apple first, wins."
Hela's gaze followed her sister's finger. At the garden's edge grew the legendary Golden Apple trees, unique to Asgard, their branches laden with fruit that shimmered with an inner light. The tallest of them soared towards the sky, its highest branches reaching nearly three stories high.
"That's not fair! You're taller than me!" Hela protested immediately.
"Then I shall grant you a ten-count head start," Mavuika offered with a gentle smile.
"I don't need a head start!" Hela's competitive spirit was fully ignited. Without another word, she shot off like an arrow released from a bow, her small legs pumping furiously.
Mavuika followed at a much more leisurely pace, a fond expression on her face as she watched her younger sister begin to scale the thick, ancient trunk like an agile kitten. In truth, she cared little for winning or losing; her only goal was to find a suitable outlet for Hela's boundless, fiery energy before it led to more trouble.
Halfway up the massive tree, Hela's foot slipped on a patch of moss. For a terrifying moment, she dangled by her fingertips. Mavuika's heart clenched, and she took a half-step forward, ready to rush to the rescue. But Hela, gritting her teeth, found a new foothold and continued her ascent, muttering under her breath, "I can do this… I can do this…"
Finally, with one last determined push, Hela's small hand closed around the stem of the highest Golden Apple. She looked down triumphantly, ready to gloat, only to find Mavuika already standing on a lower branch nearby, looking up at her with a patient smile.
"How did you get up here so fast?" Hela demanded, her voice a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
"I walked," Mavuika replied simply, pointing to an almost invisible, spiraling staircase carved into the side of the trunk, a clever feature used by the royal gardeners for pruning.
"You cheated!" Hela shouted, but the accusation was softened by the grudging smile of admiration that bloomed on her face. "But I still got the apple!"
"Yes, you won," Mavuika conceded easily, her voice warm with praise. "The question now is, how do we get down?"
Hela looked down, truly comprehending the distance to the ground for the first time. The courage and adrenaline that had fueled her climb seemed to evaporate, replaced by a flicker of hesitation. Clutching the precious apple to her chest, she searched for a path down, her confidence wavering.
"Throw the apple to me," Mavuika instructed, holding out her hands. "Then, turn around slowly, feet first. I will tell you where to step."
While Hela hesitated, Mavuika had already descended nimbly to an even lower branch, from where she could perfectly guide her sister. She pointed out every secure handhold and sturdy foothold, her calm voice a reassuring anchor in the dizzying height. When she finally guided a relieved Hela safely back onto solid ground, they both let out a deep breath.
"Here." Hela, though slightly reluctant to part with her trophy, still held the Golden Apple out to Mavuika. "You found the way down, so it should be yours."
Mavuika accepted the apple. She wiped its gleaming surface on her sleeve, then, with a surprising show of strength, split it cleanly in half. She handed the larger piece back to Hela. "Why don't we each have half? Besides, you did climb higher than I did."
Hela took her portion and bit into it. A burst of sweet, ambrosial juice exploded in her mouth. She looked at her older sister, who was eating with quiet contentment, and suddenly asked, "Sister, why do you always know what to do?"
Mavuika's chewing paused for a fraction of a second. A thousand lifetimes of experience flickered behind her young eyes before she simply smiled. "I just thought a few steps ahead of you."
"Hmph…" Hela muttered, though her tone held more playful defiance than genuine complaint. "Next time, I'll be the one to think a few steps ahead!"
"Very well," Mavuika said, patting her shoulder affectionately. "Now, we have a sword to return before Volstagg notices it's gone."
***
Their first formal training arrived with the beginning of the Harvest Season.
The grand training ground was situated on the west side of the Golden Palace. Its floor was paved with hard-packed silver sand that glittered under the Asgardian sun, and it was encircled by massive stone pillars inscribed with ancient, glowing runes of power and protection.
Odin himself had come to observe, his imposing figure standing on a high platform at the edge of the field. His one good eye swept across the assembly of young Asgardians, a new generation of warriors in the making, before finally coming to rest on his two daughters.
The instructor was an experienced warrior named Farbauti, a veteran of Odin's personal guard who, after retiring due to a battle injury, was now entrusted with molding the realm's youth.
"Today, you will learn the most basic combat stances and footwork!" Farbauti's voice boomed across the training ground, echoing off the runic pillars. "Strength is important, but if you cannot stand firm upon the battlefield, all the strength in the Nine Realms is meaningless!"
Most of the children followed his instructions diligently, clumsily mimicking the instructor's powerful, grounded movements. Hela, however, was visibly impatient. Her restless eyes kept darting toward the weapon racks at the edge of the field, which were filled with gleaming swords, axes, and spears.
"Princess Hela," Farbauti's stern voice cut through her daydream. "Please focus."
Hela reluctantly corrected her stance, but after only a few minutes of holding the pose, she couldn't contain herself any longer. "Instructor, when can we learn real combat? Like using swords, or summoning our divine power?"
Farbauti's brow furrowed. "Your primary goal now is to build a solid foundation. If the foundation is not firm, you—"
"Instructor," Mavuika suddenly interjected, her voice clear and respectful, yet carrying an undeniable authority. "Perhaps you could allow us to practice balance and pushing in pairs? Combining theory with practice might make it easier for us to understand the importance of the basics."
Farbauti looked from Mavuika's calm, intelligent face to Hela's eager and impatient one, and pondered for a moment. A slight nod of approval was his reply. "Very well. In pairs, practice pushing each other. The goal is to unbalance your opponent without moving your own feet."
A wave of excitement rippled through the children as they immediately began looking for partners. Hela naturally spun around to face her sister. "Sister, let's be a pair!"
Mavuika nodded, standing face-to-face with Hela as they mirrored each other's stances, their small hands pressing firmly against each other's.
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