Roots of Eternity

Chapter 14 - The Growing Divide

The divide between Thor and Loki had always been there, though subtle in the beginning. I had felt it growing for years, like the slow unraveling of threads that once tied us together. I was only fourteen, but I had spent enough time with my brothers to sense the shift in the air. Thor was becoming Asgard's golden hero, always off training with the warriors or speaking of future conquests, while Loki, with his sharp mind and quieter ways, was slowly retreating into himself.

And there I was, caught between them, watching them both from a distance—loving them both, but unable to bridge the gap forming between them.

Thor was away most of the time now, off on some new adventure or training mission. The palace halls seemed emptier without his booming laughter echoing through them. When he was home, he barely had time to spend with me, always too focused on his next fight or preparing for his future as Asgard's protector. It wasn't that he didn't care for me—I knew he loved me. But Thor's world was one of warriors, strength, and battle. It was so different from mine. His path was clear and celebrated, while mine remained a quiet, personal journey of growth and discovery.

Loki, on the other hand, was always present, though he was changing too. His sharpness was still there, but it was turning inward. He had grown more cynical, more frustrated with how Thor was treated like a hero while his own talents and intellect were overlooked. I could see it in his eyes, the way they darkened whenever Thor's name was mentioned, the way his lips twisted whenever Asgard's warriors were praised.

"You know," Loki said one day as we sat in the library, the two of us surrounded by ancient scrolls and spell books, "Thor isn't the only one who could protect Asgard."

I looked up from the scroll I was reading, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Loki leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Asgard worships him. They see him as the future king, the savior of our realm. But do they ever stop to consider the power that you and I possess? The power of magic? The power of the mind?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Thor is strong, and he's good at what he does. He's meant to be a warrior."

"Strength isn't everything," Loki replied, his voice cool. "You and I both know that magic is far more powerful than brute force. But no one in Asgard seems to care about that. No one sees what we can do."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, sensing the bitterness in Loki's words. "Mother sees us," I said quietly. "She understands our magic."

Loki smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Mother is different. But Asgard? They'll always celebrate warriors. They'll always see Thor as the hero."

There was something in his voice that made me uneasy, a quiet resentment that simmered beneath the surface. I loved Loki—I admired his intelligence, his wit—but lately, his frustration with Thor and Asgard had been growing stronger, and I wasn't sure how to help him.

"I don't think it's a competition," I said softly, trying to ease the tension. "We each have our own roles to play. Thor fights, and we—"

"Are left behind," Loki interrupted, his eyes flashing. "Left in the shadows while Thor basks in the glory."

His words stung, not because I believed them, but because I could see how much they hurt him. I had never thought of myself as being left behind. Sure, I wasn't celebrated like Thor, but I had always felt that my magic was important in its own way. I was learning, growing, discovering the depths of my connection to nature. But to Loki, who had always struggled to prove himself, it was different. He wanted recognition, validation, something more than what Asgard had offered him.

"Loki," I began, my voice soft, "you don't need Asgard's approval to be powerful. You already are."

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he stood and walked to the window, looking out over the palace grounds where Thor and the warriors trained. "Maybe. But sometimes, it's not enough to know it. Sometimes, you need the world to see it too."

I followed his gaze, my eyes falling on Thor as he sparred with one of the palace guards. He looked magnificent, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, his movements swift and powerful. The soldiers cheered him on, their voices filled with admiration.

It was hard to deny that Thor was loved, celebrated. But I didn't envy him. His path was not mine, nor was it Loki's. But I understood why Loki felt the way he did. Thor had always been the center of attention, the one everyone looked to for protection and leadership. Loki, despite his brilliance, was often overlooked, seen as nothing more than the mischievous trickster. And me? I was just the quiet sister, nurturing the earth in the shadows, far from the battlefield.

It made me wonder: Was my magic truly as important as I believed? Would anyone ever see it that way?

Later that evening, I found my mother, Frigga, sitting in the gardens, her long gown flowing around her as she read from a book. I sat beside her, the scent of jasmine filling the air, and for a while, we sat in comfortable silence.

"Mother," I began after a while, "do you think... do you think magic is as important as battle? As being a warrior?"

Frigga looked at me, her eyes soft with understanding. "Why do you ask, my darling?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to put my thoughts into words. "Thor is always training. Everyone celebrates him, looks to him as the future of Asgard. But Loki—" I paused, choosing my words carefully. "Loki feels like he's being overlooked. And sometimes... I wonder if I am too. If what we do, what we are, really matters."

Frigga closed her book and turned to face me fully, her hands gently resting on mine. "Helena, you are the Goddess of Nature. Your magic is the foundation of life itself. Without nature, there would be no Asgard. No warriors. No battles. What you do, what Loki does, is just as important as any warrior's strength."

I nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort from her words. "But it doesn't feel that way. Not to Asgard. Not to Loki."

Frigga's smile was warm, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Asgard may not always see things the way you or Loki do. They celebrate what they understand, and that is often strength and victory. But magic is not about being seen, Helena. It is about balance. Life and death, creation and destruction. You must find peace in knowing that your role is vital, even if it is not always recognized."

I absorbed her words, feeling a flicker of understanding settle within me. Magic, nature, life—these were things that existed in quiet strength, beneath the surface. They didn't need to be praised or celebrated to have meaning. But still, there was a part of me that couldn't shake the feeling that Loki was right in some ways. Thor's path was clear, visible for all to see, while ours remained hidden, unnoticed.

As I wandered back to my room that night, I couldn't help but feel the growing divide between us. Thor, the hero of Asgard, was celebrated for his strength and courage. Loki, with his sharp mind and powerful magic, felt increasingly overshadowed. And I... I was somewhere in between, caught in the middle of their unspoken rivalry, trying to find my own way.

I loved them both, but I knew that the paths we were walking were becoming more and more separate. I didn't know what the future held, but I could feel a shift in the air, a growing tension between Thor and Loki that I wasn't sure how to navigate.

And as much as I tried to reassure myself that my magic was important, that it mattered, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing—both within my family and within myself.

Something was coming, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.