Mordecai
the traitorous queen
The sun was shining and it was a crisp and early spring morning. It looked much warmer than it actually was; a glorious blue sky with no clouds and a single, white eye of sun. Light bounced off a blanket of ice at least an inch thick, powdered in more snow than Idunn had ever hoped to see in her lifetime. From the smell of the air to the people bustling around her down the busy pavement, Idunn drew an uneasy breath. Had her situation not been so dire and peculiar, she may have actually enjoyed the sight of snow, as she had never seen it before during her existence, but seeing it now was alarming. Her fingers twitched uneasily at her side as she reached up and ran the tips of her fingers down her face—the skin was cool and soft, but the bone structure felt foreign to her. She continued to trace her fingers down her face for a moment longer as she searched endlessly through the crowd of people who moved around her without a second notice. They were humans. They were all humans.
The world of mortals was something that Idunn, and all of the Norse Gods, were vaguely aware of, but were rarely interested in. Mortals had once revered them as the sole creators of the universe, the world, and all things both good and evil. Be that as it may, the Gods liked being given sacrifices about as much as sacrifices liked being sacrifices. In truth, life had gotten considerably better for the Gods after the humans immortalised Norse knowledge under mythology and had stopped trying to meddle in their affairs. It had been about one hundreds years since Idunn had last left her homestead in Asgard to come to the mortal world and normally, she would have been able to return to her proper place with a mere flick of her fingers, but she found herself completely stripped of her powers and dropped into an entirely mortal, and unfamiliar, body without any way to get in touch with the big bosses upstairs.
Moving her fingers from her face and down to her sleeve, she gave herself a once over as best she could. Everything felt foreign to her—down to the fabric of her trousers. Somehow, it would seem, the Goddess of youth, the lovely, fair-skinned Idunn, had been pulled from Asgard and plopped into the mortal realm without so much as a hint to why. Had she not been too numb from the shock, she may have taken a moment to admire the glowing objects many of the mortals were talking into, or their unusual choice of clothing (that she also happened to be wearing), or the large metal posts along the sidewalk that were lit up, even without fire.
Life in Asgard was considerably less avant-garde, for with the power of sorcery at their disposal, the Gods really had no need for technology. Everything they needed or wanted could be conjured with ease, so the concepts of “cellphone,” “fashion,” and “lampposts” were ideas that had never crossed their minds.
“Okay, okay, okay—“ Idunn breathed out, reaching up to tangle her fingers nervously into the tips of her slightly curled blonde hair, nervously tugging at the knots her fingers found. “Think, Idunn, think. This must just be a prank, right?” she muttered aloud to herself, looking down the street leading through the small town, “This probably just Loki trying to give you a hard time, right? Right, so—“ her crazed ramblings helped soothe her a little as she slowly began to walk forward, trying to look like she fit in, but no one else was paying her any mind anyways, as most pedestrians had their noses in their phones.
Idunn was searching for anything, anything that could help her discern where the hell she was and why the hell she was here, muttering prayers under her breath in hopes that the great Odin would just happen to hear her in passing. He didn’t, of course, but the next best thing did happen, for not ten yards in front of her stood a large billboard with an image of rolling hills and a happy family in a travel van with the words The Town of Moravian Falls welcomes you! … Population: 9,823.
Idunn knew that name: Moravian Falls. Over and over her brain began to repeat it, for she knew she knew it from somewhere. In a thunderbolt of recognition, Idunn realized that Moravian Falls was the place that a demigod, named Heimdall, had come to live when he abandoned his God-hood thousands of years prior. With her shock now replaced with hope, Idunn’s feet followed the paths she remembered. The city had modernised a great deal since the last time she had visited, but the layout had been mostly unchanged and the more she remembered about her last visit, the more she recognised. Even with her excitement swelling, she knew there was a very large chance that Heimdall moved on and was no longer where she last remembered, but swinging around the last corner, Idunn didn’t find herself disappointed. For there stood the shop in the same place she last remembered it. The building was rebuilt, of course, and everything about it was different, but the banner out-front was enough to bring joy: Heimdall Cobblery.
"Heimdall?" she called, a small bell on the door jingling as she pushed into the shopfront, "Are you here? Heimdall?"
The world of mortals was something that Idunn, and all of the Norse Gods, were vaguely aware of, but were rarely interested in. Mortals had once revered them as the sole creators of the universe, the world, and all things both good and evil. Be that as it may, the Gods liked being given sacrifices about as much as sacrifices liked being sacrifices. In truth, life had gotten considerably better for the Gods after the humans immortalised Norse knowledge under mythology and had stopped trying to meddle in their affairs. It had been about one hundreds years since Idunn had last left her homestead in Asgard to come to the mortal world and normally, she would have been able to return to her proper place with a mere flick of her fingers, but she found herself completely stripped of her powers and dropped into an entirely mortal, and unfamiliar, body without any way to get in touch with the big bosses upstairs.
Moving her fingers from her face and down to her sleeve, she gave herself a once over as best she could. Everything felt foreign to her—down to the fabric of her trousers. Somehow, it would seem, the Goddess of youth, the lovely, fair-skinned Idunn, had been pulled from Asgard and plopped into the mortal realm without so much as a hint to why. Had she not been too numb from the shock, she may have taken a moment to admire the glowing objects many of the mortals were talking into, or their unusual choice of clothing (that she also happened to be wearing), or the large metal posts along the sidewalk that were lit up, even without fire.
Life in Asgard was considerably less avant-garde, for with the power of sorcery at their disposal, the Gods really had no need for technology. Everything they needed or wanted could be conjured with ease, so the concepts of “cellphone,” “fashion,” and “lampposts” were ideas that had never crossed their minds.
“Okay, okay, okay—“ Idunn breathed out, reaching up to tangle her fingers nervously into the tips of her slightly curled blonde hair, nervously tugging at the knots her fingers found. “Think, Idunn, think. This must just be a prank, right?” she muttered aloud to herself, looking down the street leading through the small town, “This probably just Loki trying to give you a hard time, right? Right, so—“ her crazed ramblings helped soothe her a little as she slowly began to walk forward, trying to look like she fit in, but no one else was paying her any mind anyways, as most pedestrians had their noses in their phones.
Idunn was searching for anything, anything that could help her discern where the hell she was and why the hell she was here, muttering prayers under her breath in hopes that the great Odin would just happen to hear her in passing. He didn’t, of course, but the next best thing did happen, for not ten yards in front of her stood a large billboard with an image of rolling hills and a happy family in a travel van with the words The Town of Moravian Falls welcomes you! … Population: 9,823.
Idunn knew that name: Moravian Falls. Over and over her brain began to repeat it, for she knew she knew it from somewhere. In a thunderbolt of recognition, Idunn realized that Moravian Falls was the place that a demigod, named Heimdall, had come to live when he abandoned his God-hood thousands of years prior. With her shock now replaced with hope, Idunn’s feet followed the paths she remembered. The city had modernised a great deal since the last time she had visited, but the layout had been mostly unchanged and the more she remembered about her last visit, the more she recognised. Even with her excitement swelling, she knew there was a very large chance that Heimdall moved on and was no longer where she last remembered, but swinging around the last corner, Idunn didn’t find herself disappointed. For there stood the shop in the same place she last remembered it. The building was rebuilt, of course, and everything about it was different, but the banner out-front was enough to bring joy: Heimdall Cobblery.
"Heimdall?" she called, a small bell on the door jingling as she pushed into the shopfront, "Are you here? Heimdall?"
