Uninterested in watching Thor and Jane's ongoing exchange of sweet nothings, John made his way to the Asgardian library, the key to which he had earned through his services. Given the long lifespans of the Asgardians, their recorded histories were immensely detailed, covering everything from the customs of the Nine Realms to their most secret histories. John even found records of a place called Heaven.
"The Heaven dimension?" John's eyes narrowed. If Hell existed, it was not surprising that Heaven did as well. According to the texts, Heaven was originally the Tenth Realm but had been cast out from the World Tree for reasons lost to most histories. The ability to move an entire realm was, in John's view, an incredible feat of magic.
His journey to Asgard via the Rainbow Bridge had already clarified a few things. Asgard was not a planet in the conventional sense but a unique dimensional domain, a continent floating in the cosmos. The Nine Realms were, in essence, nine different interconnected worlds, and Asgard's magic was fundamentally different from that of Kamar-Taj, focusing more on applications between these dimensions. The Rainbow Bridge was the ultimate expression of this—a conduit for travel across the universe.
Here, John found countless records on dimensional magic. The languages were varied, from Elvish—divided into Light, Dark, and Ancient dialects—to complex Runic scripts. Fortunately, John could read them all.
Odin had made no move to expel him. The god-king's initial arrogance and disdain for Earthlings had vanished, replaced by a cautious silence. Perhaps it was because he knew John could extract the Aether, or perhaps he felt bound by the promise his son had made. In any case, he had kept his distance.
"Using the Rainbow Bridge, one can teleport between dimensions," John murmured, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the text. "The bridge is formed by the friction of immense magic... It is essentially a massive wave of energy that can leap across the universe." He recalled the destructive imitation of a Rainbow Bridge he had witnessed near the core of the Casket of Ancient Winters, a raw, untamed force incapable of transportation.
"The problem lies in the construction," he thought, gazing through a palace window at the bridge's external activation device. He considered going to study it directly. He wasn't sure if Odin would permit it, but it hardly mattered. John was not opposed to a bit of clandestine research; he had snuck into the Restricted Section at Hogwarts more than once. Still, diplomacy before force was his preferred style. He glanced at a raven perched outside the library window and scoffed. Odin is quite the peeping tom. Deciding on his course, he left the library to find Thor. If the prince could handle it, there would be no need for sneaking.
After the raven returned to him, Odin's expression grew grim. "Dimensional magic... what is he planning?" As the god-king who had once conquered the Nine Realms, Odin knew exactly what such power could achieve. Among all the realms, only Asgard possessed the ability to travel swiftly between worlds, to airdrop entire armies without warning. It was the very foundation of Asgard's dominion. He had allowed John access to the library out of an arrogant assumption that the mortal wizard would be unable to decipher the ancient texts. As King of the Gods, Odin had the capital for such pride.
Midgard was the weakest of the Nine Realms; its people's short lifespans were insufficient to build a unified, divine kingdom like Asgard's. Even their most long-lived wizards could not match the lifespan of an ordinary Asgardian.
To Odin's astonishment, however, the young wizard could read the ancient texts with ease. Odin, the most knowledgeable being in Asgard, knew the centuries of effort required to master them. He began to suspect that his own son, Thor, now knew less than John.
"A Wizard King?" Odin sat on his throne, gripping his spear, Gungnir, his face heavy. A formidable and restless power had emerged from Midgard. Only a god-king, he thought, can understand the ambition of a wizard-king. Furthermore... Odin looked up at the gilded ceiling. This wizard seemed to have some connection to his other child. A child Odin dared not face.
Meanwhile, Thor's family was enjoying a happy reunion—specifically, Thor, his girlfriend, and his mother. Frigga had walked in to find her thousand-year-old son kissing a twenty-something mortal woman. John found the thought of their age gap quietly amusing.
"You want to go to the Rainbow Bridge?" Thor asked, his mind mostly on Jane. He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Of course. I'm sure Heimdall will welcome you."
"I don't think he'll be that welcoming," John remarked, raising an eyebrow. Heimdall's gaze had been wary, a detail Thor had clearly missed.
With permission granted, John bid farewell and headed for the bridge. Along the way, his vertical pupils analyzed its structure, observing the flow of chaotic particles within the energy causeway and forming ideas about its construction.
Heimdall was not surprised to see him arrive.
"You seem to know everything," John said as he entered the control chamber, his mind recording every detail of the rotating mechanisms.
"My eyes can see many things," Heimdall stated coolly. As the gatekeeper who watched over all Nine Realms, Thor's casual permissions did not escape his notice.
John shrugged. Just then, Heimdall moved to activate the bridge, giving John a perfect, up-close opportunity to observe. He inserted his greatsword—a sharp, divine artifact and the only key to the bridge besides Odin's spear—into the central machine and turned it. The massive apparatus began to rotate, and a brilliant, multi-colored beam shot out to retrieve Asgardian warriors returning from quelling unrest in the outer realms. They returned with prisoners, and among the warriors, John spotted some familiar faces.
"Making us guard prisoners is a great waste of our talents," complained Volstagg, the large, red-bearded warrior.
"That's right," teased Fandral, his friend in the slanted cape. "Your talent is certainly big enough, my friend. You could crush someone to death with it."
It was two of the Warriors Three. Fandral, in particular, would have a strong memory of John, who had knocked him unconscious with a sleeping spell in Old Bridge Town.
As they escorted a group of prisoners forward, John raised an eyebrow.
Fandral, mid-sentence, froze. "It's you?"
Volstagg reacted a moment later, stunned. "How are you in Asgard?"
Among the captives, a prisoner wearing a horned mask glanced at John, his gaze sharp and calculating.
John spread his arms wide, a playful look on his face. "Surprised?"
Whether they were surprised or not, Fandral was certainly shocked, the memory of his humiliating defeat rushing back to him in an instant.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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