Tyr reached the end of his climb around the time that Thoth had told him but found it difficult to open the trapdoor above him with only one hand.
“It’s a good thing all these horizontal bars were attached to the walls. Otherwise, I might have fallen while trying to get this blasted thing open.”
With a final twist and shove, Tyr opened the trapdoor and crawled out on to the surface of the Norse realm. The air was cooler than it had been in the Greek realm, and there was a hint of pine with it as well. Though considering that it was winter in the realms, that was to be expected. Tyr looked to see the edges of a sparse forest near a body of water, with mountains visible on the other side. Tyr smiled to himself.
So, this is the home of the Vaettir. It is strange as I am sure that this is my first time here, yet it feels familiar.
Just then, a massive headache struck Tyr that forced him to his knees. Images, conversations, smells, and tastes flooded his mind, all involving him in the Norse realms. Eventually, the pain subsided, and Tyr was able to stand up again.
Memories…memories of me living in Asgard and traveling Midgard, as though my coming to this place had filled in some holes the realms.
“Well, now that that is over with, how do I get in contact Heimdall for the next step?”
No sooner had Tyr asked this aloud when a rainbow appear and landed next to him, and shout from above said “Climb up!”
“Is that you Heimdall?”
“Do you know anyone else with access to a rainbow bridge? Climb up!”
Tyr sighed and began to walk up the rainbow, finding it to be solid. While climbing, Tyr began to rack his brain to process the information he had gained to see if there was anything on Heimdall.
Heimdall was a rather solitary character, having no one in Asgard that he could call a close friend, though there were many who found him pleasant to be around if a little odd. He was loyal to Odin when it came to the defense of Asgard, but otherwise they avoided each other. Heimdall also hated Loki, to the point that the kindest thing he ever said to Loki was silence. Heimdall never entered Asgard himself, spending most of his time in the guardhouse, Himinbjorg, that he fashioned at the point where the Bifrost passed through a visible branch of Yggdrasil near Asgard’s sky. The very guardhouse that Tyr’s walking had led him to. As he approached, Tyr saw Heimdall step out to greet him. Heimdall stood about a head taller than Ares had, and was as broadly built as Tyr himself, though like Tyr it was more akin to sculpted muscle than any sort of fat. Though Tyr recalled that Heimdall was described as “The whitest of the gods” he was somewhat startled to find how pale Heimdall was, more akin to albinism rather than simply being white skinned.
“Hello Tyr, you have been gone a long time.”
“Yes, I suppose you could say that. Have you been well Heimdall?”
Heimdall just seemed to be ignoring Tyr for a moment, staring past him, then looked up at Tyr. Heimdall’s eyes sparkled, like black opals hit by sunlight.
“Did you ask me how I have been? If so, I have been fine as long as that worthless piece of festered flesh Loki kept his distance.”
“Heimdall, are you feeling okay?”
“Hmm? Ah yes, I believe I should be, Loki hasn’t been near me for month so there have been no foul smells.”
“Heimdall, this may seem odd to ask but, can you see me?”
Heimdall was silently cocking his head, then straightened and said:
“Of course I can see you! I can see and hear everything in all the realms. I saw you fight with the one called Ares, twice. I heard every single curse Castor gave you…”
“But can you focus you sight and hearing so that I am the only thing you see and only voice you hear?”
Heimdall stopped briefly, then turned and faced downward to the land below.
“Not really. For brief moments I can, but most of the time I see and hear into all the realms save for one and a few places that exist between the realms. Every word spoken in Midgard, the sound of rushing waters that move from tree roots upward near Olympus, the very first heartbeat of an unborn child in the most southern province in the Chinese Empire. I cannot always tell how far someone is from me at times, and it can be difficult to deal with people because of this, so much so that I will sometimes make comments with conversation I am not even near, or that you are still here.”
Tyr placed his hand on Heimdall’s shoulder, which caused Heimdall to flash a golden smile.
“Thank you for that. Um, anyway, do not worry if I seem a little slow to respond, I just need to pick you through the noise.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“And speaking of responding, Odin is arriving. I’ll stay out of you two’s way.”
Heimdall turned to go into the guardhouse, and Tyr saw a rider coming up the Bifrost behind Heimdall. As the rider came close, Tyr saw that the horse was Sleiphnir, making his rider Odin. The man had a long grey beard and was wearing scale armor and a winged helmet.
“Tyr, my son, I am pleased to see you.”
He is lying.
“I have been so worried about you since you were gone.”
Another lie.
“We will throw a feast in your honor.”
Lies again.
“Come Tyr, let us go.”
Tyr stared at the man for a moment, then a thought struck him.
“Odin?”
“Yes? What is it?”
Upon this, Tyr just shook his head.
“Okay, drop the act Loki. You’re caught.”
“Oh no really Tyr that hurt. Do you not recognize Sleiphnir?”
“I am curious as to see the face of his mother, so drop the act so I can.”
The rider then stiffened, then slid off the horse. The scale armor retracted into the rider and then a bellowing cloak flowed over him. The beard fell out and the and a pointed chin took its place. The upper part of the face was covered by a large hood, and the rest was twisted into a scowl.
“That wasn’t funny Tyr.”
“It wasn’t meant to be. It was meant to bring some honesty out of you, and it succeeded. Had you greeted me truthfully, I would have greeted you more favorably.”
“Well, Odin is setting up some sort of greeting for you in Asgard. I will take Sleiphnir back before he is missed.”
“Loki?”
“Yes, what is it?” he snapped.
“Thank you for coming all this way to greet me.”
Loki paused for a moment, then pushed his hood back and stared at Tyr with black, human eyes.
“You’re thanking me? Just get to Asgard!” Loki turned, transformed into a perfect copy of Sleiphnir, grabbed the reins in his teeth and went in a gallop back down the bridge.
As Loki left, Heimdall stuck his head out the guardhouse.
“How were you able to tell it was Loki? Loki’s ability to shapeshift is incredibly skilled when it comes to Odin, to the point that even the rhythm of the heartbeats is matched.”
“Apparently, I possess the ability to detect when people are trying to lie to me.”
“Ah, like when you told Castor when you knew the riders were not soldiers. It seems there is no one who can deceive you.”
“Oh, I am sure the most skilled and cunning will find a way, it will just be harder than most people.”
“Thor’s coming. Farewell Tyr.”
“Goodbye Heimdall, have a good rest of the day.”
“It’ll certainly improve now that Loki left.”
Tyr walked forward some as he saw Thor’s chariot approaching, with Thor’s bright red hair bellowing in the wind.
“Thor, is that you?”
“Of course!” Thor laughed. Then, Thor pulled on the reins in such a way that the rams skidded to a halt and the chariot swung across the Bifrost until it was facing back towards Asgard.
“Hop on. It will take you till sundown to get to Asgard at the rate you are walking. By then the mead will have all been drunk and any food left will be long cold.”
“Well, we can’t have that!” chuckled Tyr as he climbed on. Once he was close, Tyr was surprised at Thor’s height. Though Tyr was still taller, it was only by half a head, even the rams were as big as small cows rather than domestic sheep.
“Tell me Thor, what has happened to you since I left?”
“Oh, the same as usual. Battles fought against mighty opponents, drinking my weight in ale, loving my beautiful Sif, watching my children grow up, and keeping flirtatious little troublemakers away from my daughter. What have you done since we last saw you?”
“Oh, not too much. Slept longer than Heimdall stays awake, defended a farmer from a bloodthirsty coward, and got advice from a man with bird’s head. I look forward to entering Asgard and seeing how things have changed since I remembered being here. Tell me is… is Baldur alright?”
“Yes, though I think that poor Mother has begun to dote on him too much, even listening to his dreams with great seriousness and going about all the realms to make sure nothing can harm him. As if he were not the son of Odin but some frail thing!”
So, Baldur still lives. I hope that this means that Ragnarök is still a distant concept.
“Tyr, I must be honest with you, there are some who thought you had died on your journeys and would never return.”
“Oh come now Thor, I am destined to die at Ragnarök, not some faraway place.”
“Ha! That is what we all say, though Odin alone knows for sure who among the Aesir truly will and how.”
Tyr saw that Thor really believed that and decided that perhaps it was best to keep his mouth shut as to what he knew about how the realms would die.
“Ah, there it is! The greatest hall in all Asgard. Valhalla!”
Tyr looked towards where Thor was pointing and saw a massive made of gold and silver mixed just beyond a grove of golden trees. Its highest points stood above the clouds, scattering them to give the appearance as though they were the shores upon a perfectly round lakes, each with a different colored jewel at its center. As they got closer. Tyr realized he had been mistaken about the grove. It was not a bunch of golden trees, but one incredibly large tree, some of who’s branches had taken root.
“Incredible.” Tyr breathed.
“Never ceases to awe those who come here.” Thor grinned.
As the passed to the steps, Tyr saw various members of the Aesir that he was beginning to recognize, greeting them as they came in close while he was ascending. Upon reaching the top and walking to the door, a woman stepped out. She was a beautiful woman, clothed in an emerald green dress that had an occasional sapphire sown in here and there. She lacked the lighter skin tones of the other Aesir, being of light brown in her skin and her kind, motherly eyes though there was a streak of silver every now and then in her matching hair.
Frigg.
The moment that Frigg stood in front of him, Tyr dropped down to one knee before her.
“Hail Frigg, queen of All Aesir. Beloved mother to all her children, from blood, oath, and spirit.”
There was silence when Tyr had said this, and for a moment he worried that this was the wrong thing to do. Then, Tyr felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard a soft voice say to him: “Rise Tyr, warrior of Asgard. Wherever you had been before, you are now among friends and equals.”
Tyr stood up and found himself in a light embrace, and then heard Frigg whisper.
“Welcome home, my child.”
Tyr found himself smiling, feeling a nigh uncontrollable joy as he turned from Frigg to see Odin coming towards him. He was lacking the helmet Loki had used, and since Tyr saw Loki in the corner of him eye, he knew that it was really Odin this time. Still smiling, Tyr bowed his head to Odin as he approached.
“Hail Odin, king of Asgard. It is good to see you.”
“Tyr, greetings. I am glad you have returned. You are always welcome in Asgard.”
“Odin my dear, let proceed into great hall for the feast.”
Frigg took Odin’s arm, and they lead Tyr and the rest into Valhalla. Yet now, Tyr’s joy had been replaced with a sad confusion because of what came to him after Odin spoke.
He is lying.