A Fallen God and An Angel

01. Glorious Purpose

The palace gardens were serene. Three moons shone brightly in the dark sky, illuminating everything underneath. Prince Loki of Asgard silently made his way as far away from the throne hall of Vanaheim's esteemed castle. Under better circumstances, he would have noticed the different flowers arranged all around the garden. He would have appreciated the special herbs that were carefully placed closer towards the medical wing of the castle. Alas, circumstances were not different, and his mind was far from clear. He only set foot in this realm on a very specific mission. An important mission that seems to be failing miserably. He cursed under his breath. For the first time in millennia, he felt betrayed and utterly dumbfounded. The young God had travelled in search of a mighty warrior he knew back in the day, his sole purpose to rebuild Asgard. After he fulfilled his prophecy and brought about its destruction, his brother, Thor, took its people to safety on Midgard. So, he, Prince Loki of Asgard, journeyed for months seeking the one person who had gotten somewhat close to obtaining the magnificent power of the Norn Stones. He pulled every string he could and played every trick he knew, yet found no trace of the legendary warrior. The very last trail he had was the rumour of the Winged Warrior being recruited by King Forsung of Vanaheim. So, he did the only sensible thing to do: asked the King to let him borrow the knight. Saying the Vanir King didn't appreciate the idea would be an understatement. After his fallout with the King Forsung, Prince Loki needed a different plan and fast. He usually found that a stroll in silence helped calm his temper which in turn allowed him to think better. The king obviously hated the mere thought of handing over the Winged Warrior as if it was an insult to his person. Whatever King Forsung's issue was did not matter in the least. Thor had just begun trusting his brother, and the prince decided not to let him down. He will be Asgard's saviour. After everything they've been through together these past years, he's determined to make amends. The prince needed the Winged Warrior's help to rebuild Asgard, and he vowed not to return without him. He hadn't realised how far he'd ventured into the land until he noticed a secluded porch ahead. His prayers immediately answered when he noticed a figure standing at the furthest end alone and seemingly lost in thought. Even without her tiara; her fiery red hair and petite figure easily gave her identity away. Princess Sera is King Fursong's sister and royal advisor. Prince Loki watched her regal stance as she paced gracefully on her marble porch. He'd met her once before at Thor's coming of age ceremony. A mischievous smile immediately played about his lips as he approached her. A thin veil of his magic covered him, ensuring every piece of the fine Asgardian leather on his skin was perfectly accentuated with golden lining. The God of Mischief cleared his throat, announcing his presence, as he boarded the few marble steps leading to her porch.

"Forgive my intrusion, Princess Sera, it seems the beauty of your lands have overcome my sense and entranced me until I was lost." He half knelt politely as she turned to face him. Her long maroon hair created a halo around her under the moonlight. She smiled gently as she extended her hand as if granting him permission to access her space. Her hands were covered by long white gloves that ended past her elbows. An intricate light blue cape covered her shoulders and dipped to the bosom of her dress of matching pastel blue that flowed to the ground. She's always been the epitome of elegance even back in the day.

"Oh, Prince Loki, none of that! Please, do join me." He pressed his lips to her knuckles in curtsey as she spoke, "It's a lovely night; I'm glad to be able to share it." Her voice was soft and her smile never wore off as she crossed her gloved palms over the railing of her porch. The dark prince made a point to turn his body towards the garden but keep his eyes on the princess. "Please forgive my brother's outburst this evening." She spoke kindly, "You're not the first one to come after the myth of the Winged Warrior, and it's become quite a tiresome topic to him." Her rich black eyes met his, and he smiled charmingly.

"His fury is most understandable, sweet princess." He placed a hand over the top of hers. "A genuine mistake seems to have led me here." He moved slowly to stand behind her, his height towering her petite frame while placing his other hand on her waist.