A Familiar Foe - Book 5

Stations (VALI)

Chapter 6: Stations

Vali

I shook my arms out after putting on my armor as if insects crawled over me in waves. Everything from my toes to my fingertips tingled with nerves. And for what? I had been present at new rank assignment ceremonies for a decade, yet not since my endowment had I been so palpably anxious.

Perhaps it was because I felt it was my turn to rise to prominence and be recognized as a real force in New Yggdrasil. Or perhaps it was because I'd decided to pull Heimdall aside once things were over and—once and for all—ask his blessing to pursue my dearest friend as something more.

I muttered a few curse words, grateful Mum wasn't present to admonish me for doing it in her house. It was unbecoming of a man in my position, she'd say. But since Narvi died, it was my last lick of rebellion that I could largely get away with. In the wake of his death, I was burdened with heavy expectations.

Still, I mumbled. "Okay. I'm fine. This is fine. I can do this."

"Vali, where are you?" Father yelled from downstairs.

"Coming!" I bent down to catch a better glimpse of my face in the old looking glass and swept my hair off my sweaty forehead. Not enough time to fix anything now, and the walk to the Bifrost would only make it worse. Before I'd do anything potentially stupid in front of the council, I'd have to cast a charm over myself to appear more put together than I was in reality.

Mum waited for me at the bottom of the steps after wiping Father's shoulders free of Tiwaz fluff. He no longer wore armor like me and instead donned all black, except for a collar of his preferred green and gold—such a decoration was now expected of senior officers such as himself. Both Uncle Thor and even Heimdall dressed in the same way, proving how distinguished they were against youth such as myself.

Like with my underarmor, a secret lining of purple graced the inside of Father's left sleeve, forever reminding him that we weren't alone. We were beholden to someone else and his legacy. Narvi was a better motivation than the ancient gods and goddesses of the past, though; at least, I thought so.

"I'll never be used to seeing you like that," Mum said, blinking back a few tears and adjusting my cape at the shoulder. "All grown up."

"And you'll never stop saying it whenever I'm here." I peered into the kitchen and waved to Hela. "I'm sure next year you might be joining us for this, won't you, Hel?"

She simmered in her own thoughts and continued to scribble in her leatherbound journal, all but ignoring me. With a quick nod, she acknowledged what I said and went right back to whatever commanded her furious strokes.

I raised a brow at Mum and whispered, "I see what you mean about the attitude."

She sighed. "Don't worry about her. She'll grow out of it, I'm sure. But I don't like the reminder that next year, you might both be far away. I do so wish she wouldn't rush it."

Father cleared his throat and opened the front door, leaving with a flourish that told me he missed the drama of his own floor-length cape.

"Better not keep you," Mum said, finally pulling my face down to peck my forehead. "Good luck."

I smiled, though the rush of adrenaline through my gut made my mouth water. I don't need luck...I need courage today.

***

The Bifrost on New Asgard was busy when we landed; so much so, few actually acknowledged our arrival. It was just as well, since kin from the far-off worlds of Borgheim and Dagheim also came to witness the announcements. It was tradition for family to join their respective soldier for the first calling of rank; Father only attended now for his own duties and not with me specifically. It made Mum jealous, but she understood that I was too old to make a spectacle out of every professional development.