turn back time t . odinson

eight

E I G H T

A S G A R D ' S H E A R T

The air carried the rich aroma of seared meats, spiced purées, and sweet pastries as Odin declared the final standings of the Godly Chefs Challenge. Cheers erupted from the gathered audience, their voices echoing across the grand culinary arena as the White Team secured victory. Omisha clapped politely alongside Loki and Thor, neither too bothered by the results. Second place was respectable. Even if Thor grumbled about "Valyriaten desserts being underappreciated," Omisha found herself oddly at peace.

They had put on a performance, and that—more than anything else—was what mattered in Asgard.

Loki handed Omisha a napkin, his usual smug expression fixed in place. "For the blood dessert. I saw the Queen hesitate before taking her first bite."

Omisha swatted him with the cloth before wiping her hands. "Then she realized perfection. You're just upset you didn't think of it first."

Thor chuckled as he reached for his tankard of mead. "I will admit, it was surprisingly good. But next time, leave out the blood."

As the challenge concluded, the gods dispersed into the open city. The Immortal Ball was not merely a test of skill; it was a celebration, an event that encouraged both competition and camaraderie. With the next challenge set for tomorrow, the day was left open for leisure. Omisha was thankful for that—she needed to stretch her legs beyond the palace walls.

She glanced around, suddenly realizing that Loki and Thor had disappeared amidst the crowd. Where had they gone? Perhaps back to the palace to boast about their ranking, or maybe somewhere deeper within Asgard's cityscape to indulge in whatever royal mischief they found amusing. The thought amused her.

The other gods were similarly dispersing, each finding their own way to enjoy the day. She spotted Skadi speaking closely with Tyr and Vidar, no doubt planning their next strategy to reclaim their honor in the competition. Sigyn had slipped away with Baldur, their conversation laced with an intimacy that suggested long-standing friendship. Freyja had already been swept into the celebration, surrounded by admirers as she laughed and sipped on golden mead.

As the challenge came to a close, Gefjon and Aegir were waited eagerly by the entrance to the throne room. They wanted to take Omisha with them as they wanted to go explore the markets just below the palace steps. Omisha had nothing on for the rest of the day so she thought it would be nice to go out for a bit. She had no idea where her teammates were going but she realised she should've asked before going hand in hand with Gefjon down the steps.

Omisha walked beside Gefjon and Aegir through the bustling heart of Asgard. The streets gleamed under the golden sky, the architecture a marriage of divine craftsmanship and raw nature. Homes and great halls were carved into the sides of mountains, while golden bridges arched over crystalline rivers. Vibrant banners fluttered in the air, bearing symbols of ancient gods, and the air was thick with music from street performers.

Though Asgard was magnificent, Omisha could not help but compare it to Valyriate. Valyriate had all the beauty and prosperity of Asgard—but in her opinion, it was so much more. Where Asgard felt like a kingdom still deeply rooted in tradition, Valyriate was an empire of evolution, a place where the boundaries of power and artistry were always being pushed. While Asgard held onto its golden spires and carved stone halls, Valyriate boasted towering structures that shimmered like shifting constellations. The very air there felt charged with raw, unbridled energy. It was a land where gods did not merely exist—they thrived, expanded, and redefined their limits.

Gefjon nudged Omisha with a grin. "Welcome to the real Asgard."

"It's... overwhelming," Omisha admitted, though her gaze was filled with admiration. She traced the outline of the towering temple ahead, its pillars carved with runes that glowed faintly beneath her touch. "I feel like I could walk for years and still not see it all." That's kind of a lie. Valyriate's got a similar look but to her, her planet was much better.

Aegir, ever the proud Asgardian, beamed. "That is the beauty of our home. It is alive, shaped by history and power. Every god who has walked these streets leaves something behind."

They ventured further, stopping at a market where traders peddled enchanted wares. Omisha ran her fingers over a cloak woven from threads of twilight, its fabric shifting in color depending on the light. Aegir lifted a small vial of liquid silver, which the vendor claimed held the "tears of the moon."

Gefjon rolled her eyes. "Don't believe half of what they say. These merchants spin myths for coin."

Omisha smirked. "Sounds like Loki's kind of place."

As they weaved through the winding paths, their journey took them to the edge of the city, where the Bifrost shone like a prismatic river, its energy humming beneath their feet. She wondered how Heimdall was doing. 

As the Gods walked passed the entrance to the Bifrost, Omisha's attention was drawn to a secluded shrine nestled beneath an ancient tree. Unlike the grandeur of Asgard, this place felt untouched by time. A lone pillar stood in its center, marked with old Valyriaten script.

Her breath hitched. She traced the engravings with her fingers, recognizing the characters but unable to piece together their full meaning.

Aegir tilted his head. "You recognize this?"

"I... think so. It's Valyriaten, but the dialect is old. Even I can't fully read it."

Gefjon stepped closer, studying the writing. "This shrine predates Odin's reign. There are stories that before Asgard united the Nine Realms, Valyriate had a different role in cosmic affairs. Some say the two realms were not just allies, but something... deeper."

Omisha narrowed her eyes. Why had no one mentioned this before?

Aegir frowned. "It is an odd thing, isn't it? That the only Valyriaten here in thousands of years should find this?"

A chill settled over her skin. This wasn't coincidence.

Gefjon exhaled, a slow realization crossing her features. "You should ask Frigga about this. If anyone knows what this means, it would be her."

Omisha nodded, but something told her that this discovery was only the beginning of a greater mystery—one she wasn't sure she was ready to unravel just yet.

For now, Omisha tried to herself relax. They spent the rest of the day enjoying Asgard's wonders—tasting exotic fruits from distant realms, watching warriors train in the open arenas, and listening to the sagas of ancient battles sung by bards in the city square.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the golden city in a soft glow, Omisha felt something she hadn't in a long time since leaving the Sanctuary.

Belonging.

But deep down, she knew the mystery of Valyriate and Asgard was waiting for her. And soon, she would have to face it.

Though that's for another day as tomorrow is a new day and a new challenge. Throughout the time she spent with the people in the public areas, apparently tomorrow's challenge is inspired by a memory drinking basin?