"What just happened!? Samson decked Baldr before even a second passed on the clock!" Heimdall said.
Samson rushed past him, heading straight for Baldr. Baldr lifted his legs, firmly planted his feet against the wall, and began pushing. "You're not getting away! Samson roared. He then jumped in the air, scrunching his legs up into his chest. He slammed feet first into the wall right next to Baldr. In that brief moment, he snatched Baldr's right ankle in his right hand and jumped off the wall, pulling Baldr out of the wall. Samson quickly turned in the air, slamming Baldr face-first into the ground, destroying the arena floor below him. The two rolled on the ground after the slam; Samson refused to let go. He managed to get his feet under him and spun once more, slamming Baldr to the ground again. "Eat this!" He lifted Baldr into the air in front of him. Samson opened his grip and swiped Baldr's head with his right foot and Baldr's legs with his left arm, spinning the god in the air.
"Samson's rag-dolling and spinning him like a windmill! He's not easing up for a second!" Heimdall howled with excitement.
Samson twisted his upper body to the right and snapped back like a rubber band, sending another punch into Baldr's solar plexus. Baldr sailed away, skipping off the arena floor until he slammed into the wall and crumbled. The human side of the arena cheered and roared at the display of Samson's speed and power. The only one not happy about it, however, was Samson. "You know, playing dead like that won't make this any easier," Samson said. "Are you going to get up and fight or just wuss out?"
Baldr lifted his head. He then got up and walked towards Samson, dusting himself off on the way. "You talk a lot of crap, you know that? What was that supposed to do anyway?" Baldr asked.
Samson dashed to Baldr's side, sending his right leg clean into Baldr's stomach. The force of the blow lifted Baldr into the air, and crashing back and sprawled out on the ground. "It's supposed to give you an idea of who the hell you're up against. Now get up and fight. I know that didn't do anything."
Baldr sat up as a knee came flying at his face. Baldr rolled to the side to dodge and kipped into the air to get back on his feet. "Hm. It didn't, and it didn't." Samson turned back around. Baldr already broke into a dash and slammed into Samson's stomach. He lifted the warrior into the air and slammed him hard into the ground, digging up the floor. The air was knocked out of Samson's lungs. He could barely breathe as Baldr mounted him, placing his knees under Samson's armpits. "Your turn." Baldr slammed his right fist into Samson's face. He followed it up with a sharp left hook into Samson's cranium. The momentum of the swing wound up Baldr's right, and he fired it again. Samson veered his head to the right, not seeing the left hook coming. It caught him clean again. The assault continued, and Baldr rained blows down on his pinned target. Samson had to break free and focus on waiting for the best moment. Baldr swung another left, but Samson blocked it on his right. He prepared another right cross and fired. Samson saw his chance. As Baldr threw his punches, he didn't pay attention to Samson's feet. Samson snapped them to get to his feet on the ground and lurched from the waist, bridging up. Baldr went flying over Samson and rolled to his feet. Samson kipped up to get back on his feet. Samson felt a familiar taste in his mouth. That nostalgic metallic taste. He swiped his right hand across his nose and mouth, his nose stinging as he touched it. He looked down at his hand. Blood. Judging from tasting it on his lips and the sensation, his nose was bleeding. Not broken, just bleeding. "Cooled down yet?" Baldr asked. Samson glared at him. Taking a few deep breaths, he regained his fighting stance. "Guess not. Come on then, I'd hate for this to take too long."
"That idiot!" A man in the crowd roared. He was a large, burly man with a thick, gray beard and clean-shaven head. His beige robes hung loose over his muscular frame.
Abdon
(10th Judge of Israel)
"Idiot?" Someone in the crowd said.
"Yeah…he's an idiot, alright. Always running headfirst and acting without thinking, even if there was a plan." A man sitting next to Abdon chimed in. He was slimmer and older with a magnificent gray beard, but carried the same defined musculature of his peer under his gray robes.
Shamgar
(3rd Judge of Israel)
"He's way too worked up. That God's going to keep control of the match until he can rein his temper back in. Wonder what's eating at him?" Shamgar said.
"Who knows, but I've only seen that look a few times…and it never ended well for us."
Samson dashed at Baldr once more. Baldr crouched down and placed his hands just below his shoulders, palms down. Samson stomped his left foot into the ground just a yard in front of Baldr and threw his right back. Samson swung his right leg straight towards the gap between Baldr's hands. Just like Baldr expected. Baldr brought his hands together to catch Baldr's foot, the force of the kick sending Baldr's hands into his chin and lifting him a few centimeters off the ground. That kick was nothing like the ones before. Baldr thought confidently. Baldr quickly wrapped his hands around Samson's leg as he fell back to the ground feet first and pulled Samson forward. He couldn't keep his balance due to the strength of the kick and fell toward Baldr. Baldr's right hand released Samson's leg mid-fall and flew right into Samson's stomach. Samson flew back a couple of dozen yards from Baldr, wrenching in pain from the punch. As he touched the floor, he rolled and got his feet back under him and returned to his stance.
"Hey," Baldr said.
"Hey, what?" Samson asked.
"Are you taking this seriously?"
Samson could feel his face burn as the blood rushed to his head, his nosebleed worsening. "What the hell are you saying!? Of course, I'm taking this seriously!"
"Sure as hell doesn't seem like you are, rushing in like a madman. I'll give you your strength, but you're dumber than a sack of rocks if you think I'll lose to a brat like you."
"Brat!?" Hlökk yelled. "Who the hell is he calling a brat!?"
Baldr tilted his head to the right and jutted his chin out a little. His eyes suddenly widened. "I get it! That's why!"
"What the hell are you on about? Just fight!" Samson raced at Baldr once again and began throwing punches. For the first time in the match, Baldr began dodging them. He looked straight into Samson's eyes as he threw punch after punch, touching nothing but air. "Dammit, stay still!" Samson pulled his left hand in and made a small step forward. He dropped his hand down and fired it straight up towards Baldr's chin. Baldr stepped to the right, easily dodging the punch, and spear-kicked Samson in the same spot he had punched him earlier. Samson was thrown back by the kick, his feet skidding on the smooth stone floor until he came to a halt.
Baldr tilted his head again and squinted. "You want to die, don't you?"
Samson glared at Baldr incredulously. "What?"
"You fight like a loser. Only losers fight like they're full of vinegar and piss ready to die. If you want to fight like a loser, then I'll just put you on the ground like the loser you are."
"I fight like I'm going to kill you. Now quit talking and fight me!" Baldr dashed towards Samson, bringing his arms tight against his body. He began to bob and weave as he got closer, jumping from foot to foot as he closed in on Samson. Samson quickly readied himself for a counterattack. The moment Baldr got within arm's length and fired a shot, Samson would retaliate. He was ready, fully prepared to put Baldr in his place. Baldr got right within arm's length. Samson fired a punch straight down the middle at Baldr's chin. Baldr slipped right past it and began to throw a left body blow right at Samson's ribs, now uncovered due to Samson's punch. He saw the punch coming. He knew he had to brace for it, but he couldn't help it. Instinct kicked in. His thoughts failed him. Samson leaped back to avoid the blow.
"Got ya." Two of the towers behind Baldr summoned a transparent wall between them. Samson slammed right into it. For the briefest moment, Baldr felt a massive surge of force slam into him from behind and fling straight towards Baldr. Samson could only brace himself and put his arms in front of him. Baldr quickly snapped his body back to the left, releasing a powerful left cross straight into Samson's guard. Baldr stood firm as his fist squeezed through Samson's guard and straight into his solar plexus. Samson felt all the wind get knocked out of him, the force of the collision throwing him back while Baldr stayed perfectly still. Samson coughed and choked, desperately gasping for air and trying to get back up. Baldr strolled over to his injured opponent.
"Holy smokes! Baldr just tricked Samson into retreating and caught him with a nasty blow on the rebound! How's Samson still kicking after that!?" Heimdall yelled.
"You know what people misunderstand about me?" Baldr asked when he reached Samson. Samson tried to throw a left hook at Baldr's head. It connected, but Baldr did not falter. Baldr quickly snatched Samson's left before he could pull it back. "Everyone thinks being 'invulnerable' means I can just tank whatever the hell they throw at me." Baldr landed a quick left into Samson's stomach. "They don't realize, it also means I can pummel them without worrying about my own damn body!" Baldr slammed his forehead into Samson's nose. Both warriors heard the crack; Samson felt it. "I didn't feel a damn bit of that. Did you!?"
Samson kicked Baldr in the stomach, forcing his grip open and creating distance between them. Baldr had a small splatter of blood on his forehead; Samson knew it was from his nose and nothing he did to Baldr. "Folks, this round has done a complete 180! Baldr not only pulled control of the match back, but he's brutalizing Samson and broke his nose!" Heimdall roared.
Baldr smiled. "Don't worry, loser. I'll make sure you look and feel exactly how you're doing…before you die."
"Now this is a Baldr in top form," Týr said, beaming with pride.
"The fact that he can cut loose like that, thanks to Svalinn's Shield protecting his body, just shows how perfect he is for this match and his opponent," Set added.
"Then why did you look so bummed when I declined the fight?"
Set steeped his fingers, pushing them into each other to pop his knuckles. "The answer to that is the answer to this question: Týr, what is your brother's biggest flaw?" Týr sat in silence. Thor looked on at the exchange while Yama continued to watch the match below. "I thought you knew him well enough."
"I do, but it's something that Baldr struggles with constantly."
"Exactly, and that's why I knew if I made it seem I wanted you to fight rather than him, which I did, he would be more inclined to take this round…and guarantee us a win."
"You played him." Týr leaned in to Set, eyes focused and feral. "You think you can get away with that?"
Set didn't meet his eyes. "Týr…let's be candid. You don't trust me. None of you do. Were it not for the opportunity this affords you two, I daresay you both would turn me down. Even though you joined the Roster, you made me promise I wouldn't send you against someone you didn't want to fight." He then looked over to Týr, meeting his eyes with stoicism. "But...do you know why Baldr joined?"
"Damn it, Samson pull your head out of your ass!" Brunhilde shouted, scaring Göll. "This is not what he's supposed to do! Ugh...maybe I should've sent Li Shuwen or Romulus."
"What's he supposed to be doing? Baldr's invulnerable! What kind of plan could he and Hlökk have to fight someone who can't get hurt!?" Göll asked.
"Poor form, Brunhilde. If the others saw this from you, they'd be shocked." A voice from behind the two said. The two turned and saw the source: an elderly man, only a head taller than Göll, with gray hair tied in a thin ponytail. He wore simple dark green military fatigues with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and black boots.
Li Shuwen
(China)
"Li. What're you doing here?" Brunhilde said.
"The source of that damn unpleasantness from before is out here getting his rear-end handed to him. Couldn't stomach watching it on the TV, so I came here." Li walked over to the balcony and looked down at the arena. "Damn. Doesn't look any better here."
"Li, do you have any idea what's going on?" Göll asked.
"You can't tell? The boy's pissed and it's getting in the way of him fighting." His gaze never strayed from the arena below as he talked. "He's far smarter than this, but he cannot let go of his hatred."
"Towards Baldr?"
"He just met him, why would he be pissed about someone who he just met?"
"…Oh. Then who?"
"Figure it out yourself. I'm not wasting my breath explaining why a man's going to die anymore." Li's eyes squinted at that last remark, and his voice was tinged with disappointment.
"Samson!" Hlökk screamed. "This isn't working! Stop rushing in there like a doofus and start thinking!"
Samson gripped his nose; the bridge stuck out to the right. Dislocated, but not broken. Samson gritted his teeth, pinched his nose, and reset it. "I know," Samson said through gritted teeth as the pain hit his senses. He couldn't argue with her. His performance right from the start, while initially strong, has been nothing but brawling with reckless abandon. The worst form of combat against someone who is essentially immortal.
"If you know, then do it! He's going to kill us at this rate!"
"I know," Samson repeated.
"Are you sure!?"
"Are you sure you're helping and not being a pain in the ass!? How about you contribute instead of barking in my ear!?" Samson yelled.
The entire arena watched as Samson argued with an invisible presence. Some thought he was talking to himself; others thought the blows to his head were finally getting to him. "Umm…folks, I think Samson's starting to lose it…" Heimdall said.
"Hey!" Baldr shouted.
"What!?" Both Samson and Hlökk shouted together.
"Is that you, Hlökk?" Baldr asked, smiling.
He…he can see me? Hlökk thought.
"Hey, Human, is it Hlökk?"
"Why does it matter?"
Baldr smiled. "It's Hlökk." Baldr spat on the ground to his right. "Man, this is disappointing. Sent out against this supposed great warrior and the biggest brat amongst the Valkyries? The previous Fighters were of far more substance than you two." Baldr threw up his hands and shook his head. "Ah! Hey Hlökk!"
"What's with this guy?" Samson asked.
"He's a giant bully," Hlökk answered. "One of the worst back home."
"Hlökk!" Baldr's head tilted again, a manic grin grew across his face, and his eyes widened. "Brunhilde screwed you, like she screwed over Mist and Thrud. Don't worry, though. I'll make sure you get to be with them!" Baldr dashed once more, taking his guarded form once more.
"A bully, eh? Good." Samson said.
"Samson, do you see them?" Hlökk asked. "Where did you hit him before?"
Samson focused his eyes and saw them. Baldr didn't register them earlier, but the invisible cracks on Baldr's body were showing. "Doesn't look like he noticed them," Samson said. "Let's keep at it then."
"Wait! Stay defensive until I say! You can't fight him like this!"
"What!?" Baldr slammed into Samson's chest. Samson managed to sprawl his feet to keep from being pushed over.
"Promise me!"
"Fine!" Samson tossed Baldr to his left. Baldr rolled back to his and dashed once more, smiling all the while. Samson readied himself. Baldr slammed his right foot down and threw a powerful left cross. Samson swatted it to his left and pivoted to Baldr's left. Samson sent a light jab to Baldr's left cheek and ribs.
"Don't hit him hard. Just make him know you can hit him," Hlökk said. Samson groaned. Baldr pivoted on the balls of his feet and began throwing punches at Samson. Samson continued his defense, parrying and sidestepping each of Baldr's blows, then following it up with love taps. He knew he couldn't step back anymore or the rebound would intensify. The image of Baldr hitting him again after one became ingrained in his mind. He couldn't use any power blows, either. He made a vow and would stick to it.
Baldr continued his assault, slowly increasing the speed and changing the angle of his blows. Some were starting to get past Samson's defense. One right jab aimed at his injured cheek grazed his cheek. Another left hook grazed his right ribs. However, Baldr's smile faded, and frustration set in. This Human is mocking me. Baldr thought. Baldr's mind raced at the idea. Dozens of voices began speaking in his mind, jabbing at him, laughing, comparing him. He roared with pure fury, and his mind went blank. "Shield Bashing!" Baldr roared. Baldr began to move faster. His moves became erratic and heavy. Samson continued to parry and block his attacks. Baldr's eyes shrank as his manic assault continued without end.
"Crap," Týr said.
"What do you mean 'Crap?' He's pushing against his opponent and overwhelming him," Set responded without looking away from the arena.
"Not that. I figured out what you meant earlier."
"And?"
"It's his ego."
Set smiled under his mask. "Exactly."
"What that human's doing is what I do to Baldr to try to get him to figure out he's going too damn hard. The fact that he's using Shield Bashing means he's lost his cool and is just going wild."
"That only works because you can shut off Baldr's invulnerability, and you can hurt him. That Human can't, which makes this little exercise nothing more than pure humiliation for him. An invulnerable god who can't kill his opponent quickly enough? Must be driving him mad."
"Why's he so pissed about it?"
Set knew but chose not to say. Compared to his brothers, Baldr held far less prestige. Thor is the champion who slaughtered the invading giants, and Týr holds the moniker of greatest Martial Artist within Heaven. Both were massive weights that crushed Baldr's image of himself. He could never equal Thor's might despite his powers, and no one wanted to fight a god who held such a massive advantage. Many considered Baldr a cheater. And now, the harsh realization that there may be merit to that idea eats away at him.
"Stop blocking and fight back, you coward!" Baldr roared. Samson continued to parry and block the assault and began to side-step and weave out of the way of Baldr's strikes. More love taps found Baldr's body all the while. Ribs, upper arms, stomach, solar plexus, neck, ears, mouth, nose, brow, philtrum.
"Why? This is much more fun! You should be happy I'm following your example!" Samson said, smiling.
"My example!?" Baldr howled. Baldr quit his rampage and dashed, keeping his body low to the ground.
Another tackle. Samson thought.
Mid-dash, Baldr sprang up. Like a whip, he brought his left leg out from under him and stabbed the ball of his foot straight at Samson's head. "Spear of Sowilo!"
It hit the air. Samson leaned to the right, avoiding the kick. Thinking quickly, Samson grabbed Baldr's ankle in his left hand, cupped Baldr's knee in his right, and pulled. Baldr couldn't fight back against Samson's strength and fell forward. Samson used that briefest of moments to draw his knife. He landed more blows all along the left side of Baldr's body while making swift, light cuts along the way. They had no power behind them save for the last, but nine clean blows struck Baldr's upper leg, below his left ribs, on his left ribs, upper arm, shoulder, neck, temporal bone, ear, and the last turned into a left hook that slammed into Baldr's nose and sent him sprawling on the ground. Samson turned away from Baldr, sheathed his dagger, and ran.
"What's he doing!? Samson rained a drizzle of blows on Baldr after tripping him, and now he's running away!?" Heimdall said.
"Hey, that's cheating!"
"Coward!"
"What's wrong, human!? Giving up already!?" The gods' side of the arena continued to sling barbs at Samson as he ran. If he cared, it barely showed as he sprinted away from his opponent.
Baldr kipped himself back to his feet, breathing heavily. He turned towards Samson and raced after him. "Baldr's now on the hunt! You can see murder in those eyes!" Heimdall roared.
"Hlökk, think it's about time?" Samson asked as he veered right.
"Let him have it!" Hlökk yelled. Samson broke out into a sprint. Baldr continued to chase him.
"Get back here, dammit!" Baldr roared.
"Done fighting like a madman!?" Samson jeered.
"What's that, hypocrite!?" Baldr began to catch up. Despite his efforts to keep his distance, Baldr picked up on when Samson would start to turn. Leaning ever so slightly, he would course change and use the turns to catch up. The chase began to come to a close. Baldr was just a few yards away. Just before Baldr could touch him, Samson dug his feet into the ground and curled up. Baldr's waist slammed into him, and he rolled Baldr over his back. The momentum of the run made Baldr fly off Samson's back and skip a few times on the stone surface.
"Now! Straight down the middle!" Hlökk yelled. Samson readied himself and kicked off the ground. His burst of speed combined with a sharp twist to the right, but it wasn't a punch. Samson drew his knife. Baldr managed to pick himself back up as Samson closed the gap. In his fury, he threw a powerful left straight with all his weight behind it straight at Samson's chin. Samson stopped his charge, raised his dagger, and stepped ever so slightly to the left. Baldr's punch grazed off his shoulder, and Samson swung down. The knife hit Baldr's collarbone and ran straight down the left side of Baldr's chest and abdomen. A soft shattering sound was heard by only the fighters. An unfamiliar sensation hit Baldr. It stung fiercely. He looked down for a single second and was shocked. Blood. A deep cut and blood. The cut drawn by Samson's dagger spewed blood. Sensing the hesitation, Samson reversed his grip on the dagger and aimed straight for Baldr's solar plexus. By pure instinct, Baldr clamped his right hand down on Samson's wrist, holding the dagger at bay. Due to his focus on that, he failed to see Samson's left hook flying towards him. Samson pulled his right arm to the side, lowering Baldr's own. The strike found contact right on Baldr's temple. The shattering sound appeared again as Baldr's eyes rolled into his head. Samson put more power into it than he planned; Baldr's grip loosened, and he went flying.
Samson swung the dagger towards the ground, throwing small splashes of blood on the floor. "Took long enough. Guy's a hard nut to crack." Samson said, taking deep breaths. The run earlier had started to wear at his stamina, and he decided to take a moment to recover.
"How about not throwing stones from glass houses, you jerk!" Hlökk said as she crossed her arms. "Do you have any idea how easily you could've screwed up the whole plan had you not listened to me!?"
Samson hung his head. "Yeah…sorry about that, Hlökk."
"Sorry, won't cut it, genius. Put something behind the apology, and maybe I'll accept it."
Samson sighed and tapped his foot on the ground. "…You want tea time again, don't you?"
"And my butler." Samson sucked air through his teeth.
"Fine."
"Until Ragnarök is over."
"What!? Don't add to the deal after! That's cheating!"
"We never shook on it."
"Fine then," Samson said somberly.
"Folks…that's blood on the ground…from Baldr…Baldr's been injured! The Shield of Asgard! The indomitable one has been injured! What is the madness!?" Heimdall screamed, holding his head with his free hand.
"Surprised, Göll?" Brunhilde asked.
"…How'd you know?" Göll answered sheepishly.
"Honestly, I wouldn't believe it until I saw it myself, but what you just witnessed was the combination of Samson and Hlökk's powers."
"Samson has a power, too? How?"
"Due to his vows as a Nazarian, Samson was blessed with incredible strength through a series of spiritual vows. This power, 'Vows of Might, ' would grant Samson near limitless raw power in return for keeping those vows. Should he break them, his power gets reduced based on how many vows he broke and has remaining. Based on that blow, I'd say he's at one-third of his full strength."
"Hold on, that means he's been weakened this whole time!"
"Exactly, and the only person who can unleash that strength is the one he made the vows to: Hlökk. As long as he makes and fulfills promises to her, his strength will return with each kept vow."
"If that's the case, why didn't he start that way?" Li Shuwen chimed in. "Seems pointless to wait until now."
"We tried, but it seems his power is incredibly picky. The vows need to be of a level of spiritual importance; they must all be different, and the circumstances here mean they have to be in connection with this battle."
"Makes sense, but how does the little Valkyrie's power play into this?"
"Hlökk's ability, 'The Warping One,' grants the status of 'weakness' on whatever she uses her power on. Her power combined with Samson's creates the Völund.
Blade of Certain Death's Vow
Samson's power now amplifies Hlökk's ability alongside his strength, proving even something as powerful as Baldr's protection falters to their combined strength! If he's at full power…" Brunhilde turned to her sister with an excited look in her eyes and a twisted smile. "Samson might be able to kill anything in existence."
"Every time he made physical contact with Baldr, even those light hits and the parries, he chipped away at his protection until it finally broke. Were it anyone else, they'd be broken or dead already from the looks of it." Li added. He turned to Brunhilde. "You're a devious one, you know that?"
"Li, this is not a time to stand on ceremony. Humanity needs to win."
Li smiled. "Being devious is not a bad thing. Looks like you're better at this than I expected."
This old guy is too full of himself. Göll thought.
Set's box was in utter shock. Heimdall's words hung in the air, but no one responded save for Thor. His eyes widened, and fear flew down his spine. Baldr's hurt. Worse, he's facing someone near Týr's level of skill. Thor thought.
"Did…did he hurt Baldr?" Set asked quietly, his eyes stuck on the scene below.
"Incredible…" Týr said.
"That's all you can say? Incredible?"
"This guy did something only I ever could. He hurt Baldr!" Týr jumped up and stood in his seat. "This is fantastic! This will be the first time Baldr's fought a battle he can die in!"
"Why are you happy!?" Yama asked incredulously. "And sit down."
Týr returned to his seat. "It means Baldr now has to change things up since he can't fight recklessly anymore."
Týr's excitement felt like bolts of electricity running through his whole body.
These guys are insane. Set thought.
Baldr's mind was blank. Nary a thought could enter. His vision was gone. When was the last time he felt unconscious? No one can say for sure. All that can be said is that most of the entire arena fell silent, watching the mad god sprawled out on the floor, lying still.
Heimdall looked at Baldr, then Samson, then Baldr again. "I'm going to check if he's breathing!" Heimdall said. He sprinted over to Baldr, huffing all the way. Man, I should take Týr up on those workouts! He thought. Standing over Baldr, he studied him to see any signs of life.
Baldr's mind started to fire up again. Memories and voices flooded in, causing his heart to beat faster and faster.
Thousands of Years Ago
Millennia ago, at the start of Odin's reign in Asgard, the Nine Realms were in constant war. Odin, despite his best efforts, could not consolidate his power and bring all the realms under his thumb. At the advice of his aid, the Wisdom god Mimir, Odin sought instead to build relations with the other races through union and cooperation rather than conquering. Amongst his efforts was the desire to create successors or really powerful weapons he could control. Aesir gods who could continue the legacy of Odin and maintain the stability that Odin brought together through his wisdom and Mimir's counsel. As part of the peace, Odin sought out powerful warriors among the races to bear him children. From the Giants, Odin met Jorth and Hrothr and fathered Thor and Tyr. From the Vanir, Odin met Frigg and sired Baldr. These three, amongst his many sons and daughters, would come to be known as the Trifecta of the Norse. Thor for his monstrous power, Týr for his unrivaled skill, and Baldr for his impregnable defense.
Or at least that's what they are referred to now. In reality, Thor and Týr were heralded as champions from a young age. Their talents blossomed in their youth and were near spitting images of their mothers' greatness. Baldr, sadly, inherited only his mother's intellect and proclivity to strategy. He lacked both her and Odin's strength and held only an affinity to light runes, compared to Frigg's vast control of nature. In combat, both military and sport, he never equaled his brothers, and his family never failed to remind him in their own ways.
In his desperation to prove himself, Baldr convinced his mother to grant him invulnerability. One of the few spells she refused to use for anyone else; she couldn't deny her son, and granted it to him. With his new powers, he followed Thor and Týr out into the world, aiding in battle after battle. Many victories were possible thanks to him and his brothers, but many were unwilling to give him the respect his brothers earned. Soon, word spread that he begged and cried to his mother for Svalinn's Shield. Spurred on by resentment many felt towards him for 'cheating' in comparison to his brothers' talent and effort, more slanderous rumors came forth claiming he was spoiled, unworthy, and a coward. While he remained physically invulnerable, the words burned into him. Any time he heard word of it, Baldr hunted down the one who started it and killed them. No one was safe from him and his rage.
On a cold morning, Baldr began the day with his usual routine: finding out a new rumor and destroying the one who started it. On top of a hill, surrounded by unconscious gods, Baldr sat in complete silence as he stared out into the field. "Aww…why'd you beat them up so quickly?" A taunting voice from behind Baldr said. "It's much more fun when you take your time with them." Slowly appearing out of thin air was a young, muscular, and handsome god. His green hair was cut short and framed his face, with one lock a paler shade than the rest. His ears stuck out a bit, and each possessed an array of studs and earrings. His black and purple cloak draped over his toned body, the long sleeves detached from the shoulders and were tucked into fingerless, brown gloves. The cloak's trim was frayed and torn, matching his frayed black pants. He floated in the air next to Baldr, his black, point boots barely touching the ground.
Loki
God of Deceit and Trickery
(Norse Pantheon)
"Was this your work, Loki?" Baldr asked, looking away from the trickster and out onto the field.
"Hmm…maybe?" The glint of mad joy sparked to life in Loki's goat-like orange eyes. "I happen to find myself outside so many circles that I pick up a few things here or there when I listen in."
"Loki."
"Yeah-huh?"
Baldr turned around to face Loki. A look of rage formed on his face. "Did they say anything, or are you just screwing with me?"
Loki floated back a bit. "Why does it matter? You'd still pick a fight with them regardless!" Loki said, laughing.
Baldr quickly snatched Loki out of the air by the throat and slammed him into the ground. "It matters because I don't like it when people mess with me. Least of all little pissants who cater to Odin like you." His grip began to tighten around Loki's throat.
"But it's pissants like me that always get under your skin!" Loki choked out with a smile. His body lay flat on the ground, barely reacting to Baldr's strength. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be surrounded by a whole bunch of them, right? You can't stand it, and when they compare you to your brothers, even when that power is what saved Týr's life during the Giant's invasion or kept Thor safe while he slaughtered them! It must eat at you every day!"
Baldr's brow began to twitch. He wanted to kill Loki then and there. He hit a sensitive topic, and Baldr was not in his usual mood after dealing with hecklers. If he did kill Loki, he'd prove him right. If he did not, Loki would use it as ammunition to mock him further. An idea popped into his mind. He didn't know if it would work, but it was worth a shot.
"Got nothing to say? Don't want to hit me? Well?"
Baldr leaned down to Loki's ear. "Odin's never going to give you what you want." He whispered. "He never gives anyone anything the way they want. Keep serving him; I won't stop you. Just remember what I said here…and don't be surprised when you get exactly what you want...in the worst way possible."
Baldr leaned back up and looked down at Loki, smiling. He loosened his grip and lightly patted Loki's right cheek. "You're no fun anymore." Loki vanished out of Baldr's grasp. He reappeared a few yards away, staring at Baldr in disgust. He then turned and floated away.
Baldr sat down and continued looking over the horizon. "Now that… was cathartic."
What the hell? Why did I think of that? Baldr thought. He jolted up, scaring Heimdall as his consciousness returned. His head rung, the right side of his head burning from where Samson struck him. He shook his head and tried getting to his feet. His knees nearly gave out on him, but he managed to stand back up.
"Baldr's backup, everyone! After two brutal blows from Samson, Baldr refuses to stay down! He looks a little shaken up, though, and that cut looks deep!" Heimdall commentated.
Baldr touched the cut on his chest; his skin burned around the cut and intensified under his touch. He turned his hand to look at his fingers; blood. For the first time in millennia, Baldr finally saw his blood again. He touched his fingers to the wound again and lathered his fingers with some of his blood. Without any sense of ceremony, he quickly slid his blood-drenched fingers from below his eyes to his jawline. Two red streaks now decorated his face.
"Trying to scare us!?" Samson yelled at him.
"No. Just preparing." He began to breathe deeply as he wiped his fingers on his pants. Sensations began to envelop him again, and he took it all in. There was one he was searching for amongst the sensations. That nostalgic warmth of times gone by. That warmth that colored his fondest memories of his youth before his desperation and insecurities seeped in and darkened everything. Samson did not want him to regain his form and sprinted at him. His newfound strength empowered his legs, pushing his speed to new heights. "Found you," Baldr whispered.
Baldr's skin and hair began to glow with a soft light. His body relaxed as it enveloped him. Lines began to form on his chest, intersecting and forming two triangles meeting at a single point, creating the rune ᛞ (Dagaz).
Midsummer's Blessing
The Endless Day that comes after Dawn
Samson lunged at Baldr with his knife, but only cut air. Baldr vanished out of his line of sight. "Human." Baldr's voice called out to Samson from his left. Samson looked over and saw Baldr hopping lightly off the balls of his feet. His gaze met Baldr's, and a disturbing calm enveloped Samson. "I don't like saying this, Human, but you've done something no one else has ever done in all of the Heavens. Neither of my brothers could accomplish what you did when you broke my protection. And now…I can fight you with my true power. I am truly grateful to you, far more than I could ever repay you, so I will do the best I can with what I now have…and kill you with as much dignity as I can muster."
Samson put on a hesitant smile. "Well, I guess I should be honored then."
"No one has ever fought this form. I hope you do." Samson couldn't hear a shred of the previous malice in Baldr's voice. Baldr vanished and appeared straight in front of Samson mid-jump. His left leg was raised above his head, and he dropped it straight down. "Sowilo Hagalaz."