Baldur Odinson:The light of Asgard

Chapter 4: The Light and the Arcane

Baldur sat cross-legged on the balcony of the palace, bathed in the glow of Asgard's twin moons. The air was crisp, cool, carrying the distant hum of the Bifrost and the occasional echoes of a feast still ongoing in the great hall.

He wasn't interested in celebrations tonight.

His fight with Thor had been an eye-opener. Speed, power, and his light-based abilities were impressive, but they weren't enough.

Not against what was coming.

He had always known that magic existed in Asgard. He had seen it in Loki's illusions, in Odin's runic seals, and in the very fabric of the realm itself.

But he had never tried to learn it.

Until now.

Because if he wanted to truly master his power, to refine it beyond simple combat techniques, he needed control.

And there was only one person who could teach him that.

Frigga.

His mother.

She had always been kind, always understanding, but he knew there was more to her than just wisdom and grace.

Frigga was a sorceress, trained in the Old Ways, a practitioner of magic that predated even Asgard's greatest warriors.

And if there was anyone who could teach him how to truly shape his power, it was her.

He rose to his feet, determination setting in his chest like a flame that would not die.

Tonight, he would take the first step into something greater.

Frigga sat in her private chamber, surrounded by floating candles, each one pulsing softly with an unseen force. The walls shimmered with ancient runes, glowing faintly in the dim light.

She glanced up as Baldur entered, a small smile gracing her lips.

"I was wondering when you would finally come to me," she said, setting aside the book she had been reading.

Baldur blinked. "You knew?"

Frigga chuckled softly. "You are my son. Of course, I knew."

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I want to learn. Not just to fight, but to understand my power."

Frigga studied him, her gaze filled with something unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded.

"Magic is not simply a tool, my son. It is an extension of the self. Power without understanding is a wildfire—it burns everything in its path, including the one who wields it."

Baldur clenched his fists. "Then teach me."

Frigga's expression softened, and she motioned for him to sit across from her. As he did, the air around them seemed to shift, growing heavier, as if the very space they occupied was bending under unseen forces.

"Close your eyes," she instructed.

Baldur obeyed.

"Magic begins with perception. It is not about force. It is about connection. Listen."

At first, he heard nothing.

Then, slowly, he became aware of something else.

A pulse.

Not from him, not from his mother, but from the world itself.

The energy of Asgard, the hum of existence, the way everything—from the stones beneath them to the sky above—was connected.

His breathing slowed. His heartbeat matched the rhythm of the unseen current flowing through him.

"Good," Frigga said softly. "Now, focus on your light. Do not force it—guide it. Let it flow through you, rather than simply unleashing it."

Baldur concentrated.

At first, it was like trying to grasp smoke. His power had always come to him easily, responding instinctively to his emotions. He had never tried to shape it with his mind.

But as he followed his mother's guidance, something shifted.

The golden light within him moved, slow and controlled, coiling around his fingertips like liquid sunlight.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt before—not raw energy, but something more refined.

Frigga smiled. "Now, open your eyes."

Baldur did.

And his breath caught.

Floating above his palm was a small, radiant sphere of pure light.

But it was stable. Controlled.

It pulsed gently, not wild or volatile, but calm—like the steady glow of a star.

He stared at it, then at his mother. "I… I did it."

Frigga reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You have always had the power, my son. But now, you are learning how to truly wield it."

Baldur closed his fingers around the sphere, letting it dissolve back into his body.

This was only the beginning.

There was so much more to learn.

And he would master it all.