Asgardian Goddess of Beauty and Battle (Book 1) *Currently Under Editing*

CHAPTER 13

I woke early the next day, fog was resting in the trunks of the trees. I had walked outside with a knitted coat wrapped around me. It was a fresh morning.

I inhaled the cool air that filed my lungs, waking me up more than the warm coffee was. I had my fingers wrapped tightly around the mug in an attempt to warm my hands. I brought the brim of the mug to my lips and sipped the contents. It ran down my oesophagus and into my stomach, the warmth radiating and warming my body.

My cheeks were numb with the cool morning. The sun was only just shining its rays to our part of the world. I was standing in the front lawn, the green grass covered in dew that clung to my black boots.

I took a small stroll along the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath my feet. As I frequently stopped to sip my coffee, I found my thoughts drifting towards Loki.

As much as I didn't want to, I thought about him often, and it bugged me. I had become frustrated with him lately. Since last night and watching those people cry over their loved ones mad me furious when I awoke this morning. Here I was thinking about him once again, angry at Loki's decisions and actions, forcing me into things I never would have done. I now had to make things right.

I turned around in the driveway, heading back for the house. The sun had reached the tree tops, the fog drifting away and hiding from the sun. By the time I walked in the front door, my coffee was drained.

I had made a decision that I'm sure Shelly wouldn't approve of, but I wrote a note and left it on the dining table. I quickly changed into a white and orange butterfly dress. It had a long skirt and sleeves with a collar, completed by a belt that had the same pattern as the dress. I slipped on plain white flats and headed out the door, ensuring my note was in place. I threw my hair up into a ponytail, not fussing too much with neatness.

I went to the barn and fetched my bike. Jumping into it, I ensured the skirt of my dress would not get caught in the wheels. Since my strength was above average, peddling on a back wasn't a difficult task by the slightest. So, as I pushed off the ground and started peddling, I began my long bike ride to Central Park.

The wind whipped my hair and dress in all directions as I whizzed past trees down the gravel driveway. It was a decently long driveway that led to nowhere basically. I was preoccupied with my thoughts though, so I wasn't too bored by the ride.

I was playing out the scene in my mind. I would show up to the remembrance place of people's loved ones and would show sympathy to them. Then, I would go to Central Park where people were expected to be gathered most. People would recognise me, and if they don't, I'll introduce myself. They'll surely understand then, and I'll give them all a loud speech of apology. They will forgive me when I finish my speech, ensuring I mention how Loki had controlled me to do things I would never do. The people would thank me for the speech and all would be good and I can finally rest knowing I have been forgiven. I would find a way to make it up to people who lost their relative and friends. Only until then will everything be set back to square one for me and I will be able to continuously show my face to the public without being a coward.

It was a long ride to Central Park, and it certainly wasn't easy. The many streets I had to cross and the people I had to dodge. It took me about an hour and 20 minutes to arrive. I did my best to go around to most of the memorial places. There were candles, flowers, cards, and even pictures of the people who had passed.

I knelt down to examine a picture of a young girl. She had straight, dark brown hair. She had the brightest smile, while brown eyes that screamed kindness and innocence. She looked around 16 with her complexion.

An older man in around his 60s stood beside me at my left.

His voice had a sense of anger mixed with grief. 'All these people passed because some idiot wanted to rule. That other girl along side him probably wanted the same. How could anyone forgive then for what they have done to our families?'