There, in the darkness of the murky waters of memories, I saw things—horrid things and beautiful moments. I had a wife and daughters, Hnoss and Gersemi. They were amazing, their laughter filling my soul with joy. Hnoss was a tad bigger than her younger sister, her eyes shining with the same amber glow as her mother's, her hair as white blonde as snow, and her smile that could melt your very being. Gersemi was smaller yet spirited, her hair a soft reddish brown. Her eyes, the same dark color as mine, changed periodically—one moment dark, the next yellow, then blue.

They ran through bright green fields in tiny day gowns, brushing the grass as they ran, laughing as the sun shone off each. One could tell they would never be apart from one another. I watched from a distance, one moment as Aiden, the next as my old self, Odr. When I was Aiden, I wore the same plain clothes as in the waking world. As Odr, I wore silver plate armor engraved with the look of Yggdrasil, showing the wear of centuries from wandering battles. A sword hung at my hip, and a simple wooden spear tipped with iron was slung across my back. The sword’s double-edged blade had marks on the sheath, and its engraved wooden handle bore the faces of wolves and, surprisingly, a squirrel.

As I stood there, both as Aiden and Odr, I watched my daughters playing gleefully, unburdened by the worries of our world, freely and unapologetically being children. It warmed my heart and sent a good feeling through my bones, a feeling of absolute pride and joy.

To my right stood a man, a tall, intimidating figure with white hair and a soft expression, watching the kids. He wore no shoes, just simple clothes of plain cream-colored cloth—a short-sleeved shirt and shorts.

“Thank you, Odr, for these amazing girls. I’m sure my daughter will be happy,” he said, his voice a silky smooth wave, eyes of blue, and words full of sincerity.

“No, thank you, Njord. Without you, I would never know this peace.”

I knew the moment was fleeting, like the calm before the storm. Our two peoples had been at war for a long time—the Vanir vs. the Aesir. There seemed to be no end to the hostility between the two. I was Aesir, and my wife—wait, I don’t know my wife? I had a wife? Yes, I had to have one, otherwise, how did I have daughters? The thoughts shot through my head like a spike of ice, chilling my brain. Before I could think about it anymore, I heard a voice that caused the pain to subside and the air to clear from my lungs. It felt as though a soft summer breeze had washed over me, bringing a feeling that everything was going to be fine.

“Father!” I looked at the girls. Neither had called to me, and this voice sounded much too old to be either of them, yet unmistakably familiar.

“You had better be nice,” I heard the voice get closer and closer as my eyes never left the girls.

Njord scoffed and asked the voice, “When am I ever not? I’m a good person!” He spoke defensively yet jokingly, winking towards me as we turned to meet this familiar voice.

As I turned, I saw nothing, just a blank darkness in the shape of a woman. Despite the void, I knew this woman was my wife, though I couldn’t remember what she looked like.

“I'll take my husband's words over yours, old man,” she laughed. I stood there, horrified, my pulse quickening and thoughts racing. Why couldn’t I remember my wife’s face? Her name? What was it?! My internal self shook, desperate to reach out and touch her. Maybe then I would know who she was if I could just reach her.

But that wasn’t possible. I was trapped, stuck in place like a spectator watching a movie unfold. Each line was already spoken. Each action already taken. I was nothing but a passenger in my own body.

“Painful, isn't it?” Loki's voice cut through the tension.

Njord looked from me to her. “Fine, meanie. I'll go play with my granddaughters then.” He sounded less hurt and more excited for the chance to meet Hnoss and Gersemi. I nodded in silent agreement, allowing him his exit.

“So, are you enjoying yourself, dear?” Her voice was sweet as velvet cake, yet she remained a shadowy figure to me.

“It's amazing. I never imagined we could have this. Any of it,” I answered, my voice breaking with emotion. The thought of children seemed impossible amidst the ongoing war and Odin's ever-watchful eye.

“I didn't either. But with the lull in the war and the trade tomorrow, we may have many more days like this.” Her words carried hope and determination. Tomorrow's trade, with Hoenir and Mimir joining us, held promise. Only Odin knew the full extent of the ritual that would accompany it.

“I hope so. Knowing our daughters will grow up in a time of peace would be the greatest gift,” I said earnestly, pulling her close for a brief kiss. As our lips met, I felt a sensation of falling, deeper into another memory.

Around a long table made of Gold and lead, clearly crafted by a dwarf. With dragons wrapping around etched into the sides. I sat distantly from the shadowy figure that was my wife. The other Gods gathered around, a mix of Vanir and Aesir. This was the day of trade and ritual. A large pot sat at the table's center, Odin and Njord standing opposite each other, the leaders of their respective peoples. The hall buzzed with food, drink, and the presence of humans, elves, and dwarfs—more servants than participants.

“Welcome all! This is a momentous day!” Odin's voice boomed from the head of the table as he raised his ale. “Today, after years of war and strife between our peoples, we take a step closer to peace.” Cheers erupted from the assembly, but I and a few others—Njord, Freyr, and my wife notably—remained silent.

Today was meant to be unforgettable, a day of hope. Little did we know what Odin truly had planned, the darkness looming beneath his grand words. With a feeling of unease, we pushed on.

At the end of the table sat Tyr, his long hair fiery red, unmistakable blue tattoos of the world serpent peeking from his person, his weapon usually covering his waist. Tyr, God of fair combat, justice, and honesty, was usually composed, but now he sat with his head down, anxiety apparent.

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“Hurry it up, Havi, get this over with,” Tyr spoke quietly but loud enough for me to hear from a few seats away. Odin shot him a look.

“We present to you Hoenir and Mimir!” Odin gestured for the two to stand. Mimir, a feeble old man who knew too much for his own good, rose. Beside him, Hoenir, ever silent, drew little attention. “With these two, you will never want for knowledge again. Mimir is an amazing and well-traveled man, much like myself!” Odin's enthusiasm faded when he introduced Hoenir, offering a quick, plain introduction. “This is Hoenir, God of silence and one of my closest confidants.”

The Vanir didn't seem impressed; some looked outright bored. Njord glanced at me with a face of anguish and apology—now I understood what it meant. I didn't blame him; I would forever blame the bastard named Odin.

Njord stepped forward, thanking Odin for his trust in entrusting them with his people. “As always, Odin, it's an honor to host. I offer myself and my son, Freyr.” With that simple statement, spoken as if rehearsed, the air was sucked from the room. Njord, leader of the Vanir, was offering himself and his son. Before they could walk to the Aesir side, Odin spoke.

“Not so fast, Njord. While I appreciate the gesture, I want something of equal value in return for giving you my closest confidant and the smartest God to ever exist.” At the end of the table, Loki laughed—an all-too-familiar sound, the only sound from the table. “Oh, Odin, what plan do you have that you would turn down the leader of the Vanir? Like a fool?” Loki pondered aloud.

“I want your daughter's hand, Njord. I need someone who can teach me the runes. She will also be my wife and queen of Asgard.” Heat radiated from Freyr as he drew his flaming sword. Anger bubbled inside me. Njord's expression mirrored the sea's raging tides, building toward a tsunami.

As everyone looked to me as if I were a traitor for standing in a fight that had nothing to do with me, little did they know it had everything to do with me. Freyr shouted from across the table in defiance of Odin, “Father is right; this wasn't part of the plan, you dung-filled haystack.”

Odin waved his hands dismissively at Freyr but locked onto me, “What possible objection could YOU have Odr? You who have slain more vanir than even I?” He wasn't wrong at the beginning of the war. I was the one who was the most blood crazed. Even the Havi (high one) and Tyr had to calm me. “They’re right Odin-”

“Havi!” he exclaimed, forcing his status out there for all to see.

“They’re right Havi, This clearly wasn't part of the agreement. Don't we all want peace between us?” Odin's eyes were clearly furious that I DARED to stand against his words. The shape that was my wife had grown quiet. Njord Walked closer to Odin

“You dare, in my home. In Front of MY people ask me the impossible?”

Njords hair had grown wet, a broadaxe in his hands, the kind and gentle tone had completely left his body. Replaced by vehement hate and confidence. I started to walk towards Odin myself till a sword slashed through my heel. It was Tyrs blade he had cut the tendon causing me to fall over. “Sit down Odr, This isn't your fight.” I was seething with such anger i couldnt breath one that gripped me by the heart. Begging me to not let them take her. The ice in Tyrs eyes told me he was ready for a fight, and so was i. That was until I saw a bright flaming blade stop just shy of Tyrs neck.

“Raise one more blade to my brother and I will cut you down faster than that wolf took your arm.” Freyr taunted, a smile of smugness filled his face. Before Tyr could respond in kind, There was a loud slam on the table. My wife from her seat. Slamming her hand on the table loud and hard enough to break through the gold table.

“Do i not have a voice, can i not speak for myself you fools?” She hissed.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Why not let her decide that Njord she is her own woman after all?” Odin said slyly as though he had already won. Odin was always a sore loser/winner. He would do any and everything to attain knowledge. But i thought i knew my wife i thought ‘This is great let her choose no way she would leave me and the girls’ with a deep exhale she answers.

“I will go, But only if Odr is allowed to stay here. In this realm our daughters call home.” she put a lot of emphasis on the word ‘daughters’ driving the point into everyone's head. Odin raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Daughters huh? So that's why he dared stand with Njord? HA!”

as they both spoke the air had completely left my body. My heart dropped below my stomach. The heat was building around my neck. The hate, The hate growing directed at Odin, the hate towards Tyr. The hatred to myself. I couldn’t hold it not like this not with her abandoning us abandoning me abandoning our girls. No, I wouldn't let that bastard win “That sounds more than reasonable. May I ask the girls na-”

. I stood and charged Odin faster than the eye could see. He drew his spear the split second before mine could pierce his body and broke it in half with his. He kicked my legs out from under me at the knees with a loud SNAP and I flew back onto the floor. Njord raised his ax to bring it down on Odin only to have loki who leaped the table as fast as i had charged odin, cut Njords wrists before he could fully swing. Njord yelled with a look of annoyance and flung the smaller god off of him. Loki landed laughing. Freyr had entered the fray with his sword in full motion towards Tyrs head. In a shower of silver flashes Freyr had been impaled in each limb by all the weapons Tyr had summoned to fight in his stead.

I stood fully recovered but something weird had happened. I was no longer in my body. I was pushed out of it? I was back to watching as Aiden. as the body of my past self changed. The Armor had become too small for my body; the skin tore with the veins pressed tight against it. My hair had turned a slight red. I charged like a bull through the other gods clotheslining Tyr, Loki and Odin into my arms and carrying them away from the table. Each pushed off of me and recovered themselves. This wasn't me. This wasn't aiden, Nor Odr. This was a beast in my skin, one who held all my anger, hate and resentment.

“Not this again,” groaned Tyr, his voice laden with fatigue. “Handling it was such shit last time.”

Loki, always the provocateur, taunted, “Yeah, but at least it was actually fun.”

“If you count fun as almost dying, then yes, quite fun,” retorted Tyr dryly.

“Didn't he kill like 50 men in one minute in this form?” Tyr asked, glancing at Loki for confirmation.

“Mmmm, no... I think it was closer to 100 or 200,” Loki corrected with a smirk.

Before they could ponder further, my transformed body lunged at them. Odin swiftly grabbed Gungnir, his spear, aiming to disable me without causing fatal harm. “Don't kill him! We need this in Ragnarok,” Odin ordered, his voice commanding.

“Are you sure? I'm not even sure Surtr deserves this,” Loki quipped, firing arrows into my back from a safe distance. Ignoring the pain, I swatted at him like a pest.

Meanwhile, Tyr unsheathed Tyrfing, his greatsword designed for giants. With precision strikes, he slashed my tendons, aiming to incapacitate me. The battle raged on, the glint of blood and light reflecting off Odin's spear with each calculated throw.

The situation grew dire until a loud WHOOSH echoed from the north. Thor had arrived, his formidable hammer Mjolnir now pinning me down with its weight, crushing my ribs. Before I passed out from the pain I saw his large body walking up to get his hammer. Before he reached for it he kicked my head knocking me out. My last thoughts were about my girls and my wife. Who was she? Why did Odin want her? And what was this “ritual” that I never saw?