There she was, with her raven hair, white eyes, and that stern look I knew too well. Brunhildr hasn't changed since the last time I saw her. But I had, thanks to Loki—thanks to my anger at her for doing nothing while I lay dying, being eaten alive.

“You're looking much better for a dead kid, Aiden. My apologies for not coming sooner,” she said casually, as though I had chosen to be in that situation. My anger at Loki and his part in my near-death was well-expressed in many, many hits to his nether regions when he slacked off.

“Can't say the same for you, Brunie!” I retorted,with a split second thought being “oh fuck spear” smashing the wooden deck I had just repaired the day before. Thanks to Loki’s training, I barely managed to avoid it.

”YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU’RE PAYING FOR THIS!” I yelled, furious at the three hours of work now wasted. Brunhildr calmly gestured, and her spear flew back into her hand.

“Who told you that name?” she demanded, her eyes blazing with rage at the nickname Loki had given her. Loki chuckled at his own joke.

“Aiden, she didn’t even like me calling her that,” he said, barely able to contain his laughter. In an instant, I shifted from thinking him silly to fearing for my safety as Brunhildr slammed me with the butt of her spear, sending me crashing back into the house. Thankfully, she missed the TV—I couldn’t afford to miss an episode of my favorite show; that would be unforgivable. But I did crash over the couch from the force of her blow.

I stood up, shaking off the impact, and locked eyes with Brunhildr. Ignoring Loki’s hysterical laughter on the porch, I ran back outside, determined to show Brunhildr what I had learned over the years. Gripping my spear with both hands, I positioned it defensively, widening my stance to brace for impact.

“Your form is horrid. Still just a little boy, I see,” Brunhildr taunted confidently, not even bothering to take a fighting stance.

“Come at me again and we’ll see who’s ‘little,’ Brunie,' I challenged. She finally crouched low for a split second before charging at full force. Just as our spears were about to clash, I slammed my flaming hand against her helmet. She retaliated with a smack to my ribs and a kick to my chest, pushing me back.

With a surge of adrenaline, I recovered quickly, readjusting my grip on the spear as if it were a pole, not a weapon, with the haft on my shoulder and the tip poised above my head.

“That was a nasty trick, Aiden,” Brunhildr grunted, clearly irritated by my tactics.

“I was raised by that fucker!” I pointed to Loki, who was casually polishing his nails, seemingly indifferent to our standoff.

Brunhildr shot Loki an angry glare, waiting for his nonsense to end and for him to actually contribute. It took him a moment to realize we had stopped and were watching him.

“Leave me out of this, kiddos. I'm just an old man, a frail, frail old man,” Loki said, morphing into a feeble-looking ninety-year-old with a cane. His attempt at deflection earned him a mental note—I swear he’s on dish duty for the next month. As he slowly hobbled away, Brunhildr kicked him harder than she had kicked me. I almost cheered for her; I wanted to do that too. Loki fell face-first but stayed down, not out of pain or any real damage, but simply because he wanted to be left alone.

Now, attention returned to each other. With my spear poised to strike, Brunhildr closed the distance again, determination etched on her face. We clashed—she struck, I dodged. It was a tense dance of spear and skill, each move calculated and countered. Finally, I managed to land a stab on her foot—the same foot she had stabbed when I was a child. As she winced in pain, a warm feeling surged through my arm.

But in that moment of triumph, she retaliated swiftly. With a swift move, she drove her spear through my arm. Pain shot through me, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through, fueled by adrenaline and determination. I struck her in the chest with my hand again and set an even hotter flame ablaze bruning a handprint into her armor adding yet another mark among the thousands.

Before she could retaliate, a blur of blue came from between us and smacked each down harder than we were hitting one another finally breaking my poor couch and Brunhildr slammed into the wall breaking the wood ever so slightly. From the ground I turned to look at who had hit us. And of course it was Loki now dressed in a tracksuit speaking in a Russian accent.

“Quit breaking Vladimirs stuff, stuff is expensive even though I don't pay. Now sit.” I was the first to stand with a bleeding arm. I made my way over to Brunhildr who was still down and struggling to get up. Seeing her like this reminded me of that day, the day she left me for coyotes. I raised my spear, ready to run her through. As I brought it down Loki kicked my arm and stabbed it.

“HEY, don't do that. If you kill her, Odin and everyone will easily find us, you idiot.” My spear had impaled the floor next to Brunhildr's head. She groaned quietly before opening her eyes and muttering, “OH SHIT, SPEAR.” I could relate to that reaction. Once Loki helped her up, we all gathered at the table—me and Brunhildr beaten up, Loki unchanged.

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“Were you actually going to kill me, Aiden?” Brunhildr's voice held no anger or surprise.

“Yes, I would have,” I replied coldly, maintaining eye contact. “But as much as it pains me, Loki is right. If I kill you now, everyone will find us.”

Brunhildr seemed unfazed by my honesty. We sat in silence for a moment until my hunger kicked in again, and I returned to eating my chili. Feeling guilty for my earlier aggression, I slid over a bowl of venison and a cup of water. She eyed them warily.

“It's not poisoned, dumbass. I would have fed it to Loki first if it was.” Loki, sitting at the end of the table playing with a bug, just waved in response.

During this lull, curiosity about Brunhildr's motives overwhelmed me. “Why are you here? How did you find us?”

Amusement flickered in her eyes at my question. “Actually, I wasn't even looking for either of you. Someone died fighting robbers south of here at a farm—a believer of Odin who killed two of the five robbers in his name. I just happened to fall off my horse.”

So, it was a chance encounter. But finding us like that? No, that's too convenient. In the years Loki raised and taught me, he spoke of the Norns, and I suspected their hand in this.

“So where do we go from here?” Loki finally broke his silence.

“That's up to you guys,” Brunhildr replied, direct yet questioning.

“I honestly don't care. I don't even have my memories yet, so it's not like I can give a meaningful answer,” I said indifferently. But my words seemed to stir something—Loki's eyes snapped to me, and Brunhildr broke a piece off the table in frustration.

“What do you mean, Aiden? What can't you remember exactly?” Suddenly, I remembered I was technically an enemy of Odin for freeing Loki. But after our fight, Brunhildr must surely know who I am. When we first met when I was a child, she called me ‘Child of Madness.’

“Well, apparently I am the one who freed him from the torture you all placed him in. And as payment, he was supposed to find me and help me remember,” I explained, aware that I had just opened a can of worms and thrown them at her.

Brunhildr stood abruptly and raised her spear to my throat, anger boiling over her face. “IT WAS YOU, ODR? YOU FREED HIM?!” She was clearly furious, and I knew I had touched a nerve. But this chili was too good to stop eating.

“If you want to fight again, it'll have to wait until I'm done eating,” I remarked casually, though the spear pressing against my throat drew blood this time.

“Why? Why out of all the people who could have freed him, why was it you?”

I tapped my temple and looked up from my meal. “Don't know. Not yet. No memories?”

“I should have run you through as a child. I knew it was you who hurt that child,” Brunhildr seethed.

Loki squeaked a bit and admitted it was actually his doing. “Yeah, that wasn't him, Brunie. That was just a log I threw into the woods and with a little bit of seidr, made it look like a baby. My bad,” he said, gesturing with his finger almost like an ‘oopsie poopsie.’

Brunhildr wasn't shocked as I was when I learned that. More like she expected it from him. She looked from one side of the table to the other, from me to Loki. “I used to look up to you in the old days, Odr... Aiden? What do I even call you?”

“Either works.”

“Point being, everyone was saddened when you left and angered when HE was freed.” She pointed her spear at the end of the table to an uncaring Loki.

“Look, I don’t know why I did what I did. After tonight, I should have my memories back, so if you want to talk, come back tomorrow.” She looked at me incredulously.

“Why shouldn't I just run and tell Father?” Oh yes, go run to Daddy. I'm sure the two gods you just attacked will definitely let that happen. NOT.

“Because if that was your intent, you already would have. Plus, I'm sure you missed your uncle Loki.” I said with pure confidence as she scoffed at the thought.

“I have a soul to go get; I'll return right after dropping them off.” Loki looked like he was about to jump for joy.

“Aww, Brunie did miss me!” He went to get a hug and was slapped with a spear instead, which earned a chuckle out of me. With that, she left, off to get that soul, I would assume. Loki got back up, albeit butthurt that she didn't hug him. We finished eating, and I let him know he has dish duty for a month for not helping sooner in the fight.

“C’mon man, that wasn't even a fight. Just you two weirdos smacking each other!” he said, imitating a child wildly flailing their arms about. The worst part was, I couldn't say he was wrong. With the dishes done and food eaten, I went to repair what we broke during our little catfight. The couch had been broken in two, and the wall had a small dent where her head had hit it. The floor—oh, these poor floors—stab marks and broken planks. Loki went outside to fix the porch, which I'm sure was even more damaged, sadly. After hours of cleaning, it had finally hit around 10 at night, and we were going to call it a night, but then I remembered we had shit to do. I told Loki it was time, and he more than happily sat down and talked me through what was going to happen.

“Are you sure you're ready to remember who you were, Aiden?” Loki asked with what I could only describe as actual worry. Why wouldn't he be worried? I was more like his son than a friend by this point. Sure, it's weird, but he is the closest thing I have ever had to an actual good dad.

“I'm sure. Plus, I know I won't change THAT much. But in case I do—" I stopped short and pulled him in for a tight hug. Right there in the living room, among all our broken things. The place where he had raised me for ten years, teaching me and caring for me. It seemed like the only right thing to do was hug him and let him know. I, as Aiden, will always think of him as my dad. The one person who was there when I had nothing, the one who held me that night everything changed. “I love you, Dad, and you better not tell anyone.” We hugged one another tightly. Loki was a little shaky; I knew he never really got to be there for any of his kids because of some asshole named Odin and that this probably meant the world to him. I needed him to know that in case I become someone else, I do love and appreciate his effort. We parted from the hug, and he had more than a few tears running down his face, though I doubt I was much better off.

“Okay, kid. Lay on the couch and don't fight the seidr.” Loki placed his hand on my forehead, and off back into that same darkness I went.