Forty-One

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Tyr had mastered his temper over a course of eons. There was little that could disturb him and even littler that was able to return him to the man of rage that he once was.

However, in this very moment it was challenging for him without a doubt.

For the second time he had to face his father, only because he turned out to be too foolish to understand.

"I told you already, I do not desire to cater to your obsession with the fated war.", Tyr clenched his fists to bundle energy that burned like fire. "And I also don't wish to harm you."

"Fate says otherwise.", Odin replied soberly and hit the ground with his spear three times. "And as much as you say that, the fact that you kept a secret from me is proof that you don't trust your own father."

Tyr's eyes flinched. A slim smile appeared on his lips.

It was indeed true that he did not trust him, he had to give him that. But it was also foolish to think that he was the only one of his sons who had a truth to hide.

Like Thor, who owed the life of his wife and newborn daughter to your help. And without the giant heirate that ran through your veins it probably also wouldn't have been possible.

"Very well then.", Tyr's shoulders loosened.

He took a breath, closed his eyes and bowed to his father. It was meant to express his respect to the man that had created him. But at the same time it was also a goodbye.

Odin's gaze darkened.

"Is this a threat?", he asked with his teeth bared and spear raised.

His son couldn't hold in a chuckle.

"It is called consequences.", he said and let two fingers run along the runes that covered his pale skin. "Not that you would understand that concept. You never had to fear reactions to your actions."

"I've ruled over many realms, my son. Even more tried to take this from me. And you will most certainly not stop me now!", a storm of ravens started to gather around the Allfathers feet.

Their crowing filled the air like a thick blanket of doom, almost like an omen. Perhaps they raged because they were still enslaved by the same tyrant they tried to get away from.

Or they wanted to take revenge on the god of war for delaying what he was destined to do.

Either way, the forest started to turn dark with feathers and pale, milky eyes.

They sat on ever tree, occupied every branch that was strong enough to hold a bird of their magical, unnatural size.

Tyr's golden eyes wandered along each and every one of them. His outside was calm, well put together and not worried at all.

He had fought wars. He was the very reason why war even existed in the first place. And now it was time to go to battle against that very man that had helped him come to existence.

"Allow me to put that to the test.", he said soberly and snipped two fingers.

A field of magic grew on the tips. And as he snipped a second time it exploded with all the tension that he had let it build.

Leaves trembled. Trees shook. And even the ground below their feet seemed to answer the call of war.

The ravens fell from the branches like flies. Helplessly they flapped their wings but seemed to have lost their ability to keep themselves in the air.

As their fragile bodies of magic crashed to the ground they shattered into thousands of pieces only to leave thin layers of greenish dust.

Only some survived, got to their small feet and tried to seek shelter in the shadow of the Allfather.

Annoyed, Odin let a small sound of disappointment be heard and tipped the bottom of his spear to the ground twice.

Crowing in agony, the remaining birds shattered.

"A small little trick to get me jittery?", Odin asked, unimpressed.

Tyr huffed.

"Not at all.", his fingers moved, one by one, to form a fist. "I just don't like to be watched... when I kill my father."

Suddenly, a bright light gathered in the palm of Tyr's hand. It formed a long rope, hardened and after a moment he too held a spear in his hand.

Unlike the one of his father, Tyr's weapon was of larger size, broader, with a blade at the top that was easily as large as a full grown hand.

One strike, placed the right way, could have been enough to end the Allfather once and for all.

And it seemed that he was very much aware of this. Even though this wasn't Ragnarok and, by fate, he wasn't destined to die that day, he was restless at the sight.

His eye narrowed.

"To think you would ever raise a hand against your own father.", Odin said, seemingly in his last attempt to regain his sons loyalty.

But the god of war was long past that point. He had made his decision. Not for fate but for you.

He was ready to do what was necessary.

"You aren't the man I called father no more.", Tyr's stance was still relaxed while Odin seemed to expect an attack any moment soon. "That man is long gone."

"That man still disapproves of your choices."

Tyr's eyes narrowed. That comment had rubbed him the wrong way.

"Choices...", he mumbled. "You mean that I fell for a giant."

"An enemy!"

"Your enemy. But they were my friends."

"And I was merciful enough to forgive you that friendship.", Odin bared his teeth like a dog who was about to bite.

"It wasn't mercy.", Tyr's temper shifted as well. "It was because I still needed to serve a purpose."

His grip on the spear tightened. While his feet moved further apart he took a stronger stance, but still remained neutral.

It wasn't wise to attack first. He would leave the first strike to the Allfather.

And, indeed, it didn't take long. As soon as his son had moved, Odin took it as a threat and jumped forward.

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