Valhalla High (A Magnus Chase Fanfic)

Judgement Day

May 20

The last day of my high school career included two near-expulsions, several bruises, and tripping over my own graduation gown. It started out innocently enough. My friends and I gathered in the cafeteria before classes and discussed the relative merits of how to spend our summer. Sam was planning to take flight lessons (Amir had gotten her in touch with a pilot), TJ was getting a part-time job at a museum, and Jack had won a scholarship to go to a camp for promising young musicians. "Riptide is going too," he said, his gaze growing dreamy like it always did when he mentioned his girlfriend.

     "What are you doing?" Blitzen asked me.

      "Hopefully getting a part-time job," I responded. "You?"

     "I've been commissioned to make a dress for one of my mother's actress friends," Blitzen said. "The dress will appear in a Netflix series."

     "Whoa," I said. "That's almost as cool as binge-watching Doctor Who."

     Blitzen smiled. "You and your sarcasm, Magnus."

    Hearthstone signed about how Blitzen had been sketching the dress in our AP History class. "And Odin didn't notice?" I asked.

    Blitzen smiled and shook his head. "You're one crafty dwarf," I said.

    "I know," he agreed. "I know."

      We didn't have our first two classes of the day because we were practicing for our graduation ceremony in the auditorium. Odin began by giving a speech about the importance of education and how we were a crowd of bright, promising adolescents. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," he said. "Whatever obstacle is in your way, you can defeat it — even if you have to trade an eye and hang for nine days on a tree to learn knowledge, or wait for nine hours in the freezing cold to get an iPhone."

     I turned to my friends. "What is he talking about?"

     Sam shrugged. "I don't even know half the time."

After giving his bizarre speech, Odin brought out Sif and Thor to demonstrate how to walk up and receive our diplomas. "There will be no charging, tripping, dueling, wrestling, spitting, or shoving," Odin said. "You will only come up when your name is called and you will walk gracefully. Watch how Sif does it."

Sif walked like a model strutting on a runway. "There's no way I'm walking like that," Halfborn grumbled.

     Unfortunately, Sif heard us and the entire senior class was forced to practice her style of walking: a gait that involved 49% more swaying of the hips than I was comfortable with. When the assembly ended, we were released to third period. Sif spent the entire time gushing to Alex about Pottery Barn. "The Museum of Fine Arts wants to show it in its upcoming ceramics exhibition," Sif said. "I'm currently negotiating the price with them for you; you should be receiving a hefty sum in your bank account soon."

    After she'd moved in with us, my mother had helped Alex set up her own bank account, seeing how her father had disowned her. It was one of the many practical things I would not have thought of.

It was in AP Biology that the fight broke out. Mimir was letting us study whatever we wanted and most people were using it as an opportunity to chat or play computer games. Hearthstone was building a medieval-style castle on Minecraft. It was engrossing watching how meticulous he was about every detail. He was just building a drawbridge for the moat when the fateful words were said: "Flåm sucks."

The next moment, Halfborn was up and pummeling a wiry junior. "Never. Insult. Flåm."

He punctuated each word with a blow. "Boys!" Mimir said, standing up. "Cease all violence now!"