Heimdall was the one who found me, a baby girl hidden in a small cave behind a waterfall, softly crying and alone, with no sign of the people who left me. He recounted the story every time I asked. How he noticed the swells of synergy, caused by powers I was far too young to control. How he took me to Odin, who was eager to add me to the handful of children the Legends were training to protect the Nine Realms. How little Odin actually cared for the life that was saved, only the purpose I would serve.

Heimdall was the one who raised me. He taught me how to refine my abilities, the likes of which meshed together perfectly with his own—contrasting to the point of similarity. He was the one who named me, Asariel, caring for me in a way the other children envied. Heimdall was a father to me. I loved him for it, and despite his hectic life and demanding responsibilities, I knew he loved me too.

I met the brothers when I was young, and I can hardly remember a time when I didn't know them. We were thick as thieves, nearly inseparable as we ran around the castle grounds, giggling as sparks burst from Thor's fingertips and golden tendrils swirled around my own. Loki always had more control over his abilities, shyly creating a double of himself or changing his appearance entirely. Over time, he grew more confident, mischief quickly lacing into his tricks. To the three of us, we were unstoppable, already ruling a kingdom that only one of us would inherit. This, naturally, was a conversation we had fairly often.

“What will you do if you're king?” I asked, my arms flung to either side as I balanced on the rails surrounding the small lake. Thor shrugged, tearing up a handful of grass before tossing it at Loki, who had been sticking flowers and leaves in Thor’s hair behind his back.

“I would make sure that we are the strongest kingdom in all the realms,” he decided, nodding firmly as he thought. “And…” Thor began to smile, and I knew he was going to say something ridiculous in an attempt to make me laugh. “I would make you marry me and be my queen!” he teased, leaping to his feet and bowing. His head tipped down so the flowers rained onto the ground beneath him.

I squealed, wrinkling my nose and sticking out my tongue at him. “Why would I do that? I am never going to marry anyone, even if you are a king.”

“So you will marry Loki!” Thor shouted, swivelling to face his brother, whose face had gone bright red. “Unless he is the king. Father hasn't told us who will be yet.”

“Well if I am king,” Loki smiled, tossing another flower on top of the blond boy's head. “I would make you bring me piles and piles of sweets. And Asariel would be in charge of guarding the weapons. Because she is good at that, unlike you.” He grinned, and Thor made a face at him.

~*~

One of the fondest memories of my childhood was a ridiculous idea that Loki proposed, which we plotted and planned for almost a week, longer than any of our other tricks. It centered around my complaints that I would never know what it was like to be royalty in the palace. I was just the child that was forced to endure the whispers and sympathy of never knowing my parents. Still, I didn’t think anyone else could care for me the the way Heimdall did.

“Well,” Loki said, speaking slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What if we disguise you? You and Thor could switch places for a day. You look similar enough.”

Thor's face lit up. “Yes! Just switch clothes! Maybe cut your hair, because yours is a little longer than mine, but it's the same color. Maybe no one will even notice the switch.”

So we went to work. It shouldn't have taken as long as it did to memorize the small tasks Thor had to do, mostly because he tended to ignore them regularly. But we did have to plan on how to sneak into the castle at night to swap, and we found the whole idea utterly hilarious.

Finally, we huddled in the corner of the castle, near the same lake we had been before, while the sun began to set. Thor brandished a pair of scissors, the light of the setting sun reflecting off of the sharp metal. “I found these on Mother's vanity,” he whispered, bouncing slightly of the balls of his feet. “Loki should cut it, so he can look at mine at the same time.”

Only twenty minutes later, my hair was chopped short, mimicking Thor's hair well enough, but very unnatural to me. I giggled at the pieces of hair that now sat in a ring around me, running my fingers over my head repeatedly. “This feels weird,” I grinned, shaking my head so the blonde strands of hair fell into my face.

“I think it looks good,” Loki murmured, his cheeks tinged pink but an earnest smile brightening his skinny face.

“I do look very handsome,” Thor joked, and I threw my shoe at him. He dodged it narrowly, and we froze as it bounced down the small hill toward the undisturbed water. When it skid to a stop along the surface, Loki let out a snort of laughter, and I huffed before running after the now afloat shoe.

~*~

By the time morning had arrived, I had started to severely doubt our poorly formed plan. I was curled up in Thor's bed, his blankets wrapped tightly around me as I stared out the window, watching the sun rise over the glittering gold kingdom. Loki slept only a room over, which brought me some degree of comfort, but I still found myself anxiously waiting for someone to burst in and drag me to Odin's throne room. Though I didn't think what I was doing was necessarily bad, the fear of being caught quickly overwhelmed any reason. I finally swung my legs over the bed, dropping to the ground and padding across the hall to Loki's room.

The rest of the morning passed as a blur. Thor and I did share many similarities in appearance, though our eyes were drastically different; while Thor's were a deep blue, mine were a rich brown, a golden ring encircling the iris. Over the years, Loki had pointed out that when I used my magic, the ring expanded to fill in the rest of the iris with gold. I secretly delighted in this similarity I shared with Heimdall, though it showed a distinct difference between the Asgardian prince and I. Because of this, I kept my eyes down whenever passing guards and castle workers, but when Loki noticed, he only laughed and jabbed an elbow into my ribs.

“You won't get caught. The only thing they really notice is the hair and the clothes. I promise,” he whispered, and I smiled in return.

~*~

By mid-afternoon, I was thrilled at the success of our 'mission’, despite the fact that the only satisfaction I got out of it was a small bow from a passing warrior. Still, I could hardly stop smiling as Loki and I sprinted towards the Bifrost, making our way to the small space underneath it that served as my home.

Heimdall stayed positioned at the gatekeeper throughout most of the day, returning to that space to sleep. I'd spend most of my evenings sitting cross-legged in front of the spiralling stars and galaxies visible from the Bifrost. Once my eyes grew heavy, Heimdall would smile and lead me to my bed, whispering stories of far off lands, of wars and valiant heroes who protected their worlds. His voice was deep and soothing, and despite my best efforts, I always found myself nodding off before he could finish the stories. In the morning, I would beg to hear the endings, and he'd smile knowingly before answering.

“The universe is constantly shifting and adapting, giving new life and light to the world,” he would say. “Each person leaves a new legacy, their own story intertwining with everyone else's. So, in this way, no story ever has an ending. What it has is a lesson.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” I would complain, crossing my arms defiantly as I glared at him.

Heimdall laughed, but he never exactly explained himself. He told me that if I stayed awake, I could hear an ending that night.

Heimdall was rarely down in the room below the Bifrost during the day, so I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw him staring out the space in the wall that revealed that expanse of space and light. Thor sat sheepishly on the edge of my bed. He looked up as we walked in, shrugging before glancing at Heimdall.

“You cut your hair?” He asked, turning slightly with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” My voice came out as a squeak, and I cleared my throat rapidly.

He nodded. “You three realize I can see the entire universe, correct?” Each of us nodded slowly, as if the thought had only then dawned on us. He smiled warmly before turning to face us fully. “Very well. As long as you two didn't do anything terrible in the castle, no one has to know.”

My heart was pounding in my chest, even after he left, despite knowing there was no reason to be in trouble. Suddenly, Loki groaned, smacking a hand to his forehead.

“I am absolutely useless,” he muttered under his breath, and then he started to laugh. “I could have just swapped your appearances. With magic.”

A short span of time passed before Thor began to laugh, quickly followed by some stifled giggles from me. “Maybe next time?” Thor offered, swinging his legs amiably as I covered my smile with my hand, shoulders shaking slightly.

After that, Heimdall was slightly stricter with us, keeping an eye on us when we got too quiet or tried to sneak off into some remote corner of the castle. Naturally, we fought against his watchful eye, with varying degrees of success.

~*~

Almost every Asgardian had the ability to manipulate energy; however, my powers were entirely based around it. With an immense amount of concentration for my eight year old mind, I could physically move objects, create illusions out of thin air, or form protective barriers, among other abilities I hadn't even begun to attempt. Being young, I had trouble understanding, controlling, and learning to develop these abilities; I just saw them as magic tricks. Thor's powers were even more sporadic than my own, especially when he was emotional.

Loki was the genius of the group. His abilities reached far beyond sparks of lightning and energy manipulation, delving into true magic. His favorite trick was to change his form, though Thor and I each began to recognize the little behaviors that marked his illusions. Once, he changed himself into a snake, hiding in the grass until Thor picked him up in some sort of admiration. When he did, Loki popped back into his true form, shouting sharply before sticking a flimsy plastic knife between Thor's arm and side. The resulting shriek of surprise from the blond prince left us all doubled over in laughter, though Thor sulked for hours afterwards.

“He stabbed me,” he grumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“I don't think a plastic knife counts,” I pointed out.

“Yes, it does.”

“No way.”

~*~

Over time, our childish banter evolved into a close friendship, a family even. I spent over ten years by Thor and Loki’s side, fighting with them, defending them, even training with them. I looked up to them for everything, believed that I would never know a time I wasn't with them.

That all changed the day I walked into the Bifrost to see my father arguing with Odin, a dark haired woman close behind. Her dark, almost black, hair framed an even face with intelligent matching eyes. She was dressed in a dark grey t-shirt underneath a sleeveless, half unzipped, leather jacket that hugged her frame tightly. Matching the jacket was a pair of combat boots she tucked into black cargo pants. The other two men seemed to be ignoring her, but if her leather fingerless gloves, and twin swords strapped to her back were any indication, she was a force to be reckoned with. She walked with a power, straight posture, steps never faltering, and even though she was the shortest of the group, she seemed the most in control. “She's a child!” Heimdall rumbled, his golden eyes narrowed as his hand clenched the sword at his side.

“She's an asset,” Odin retorted, relatively calm despite the warning in his voice. “You knew this would happen the day you brought her to me.”

Heimdall scoffed, something I had never heard the man do. “She isn't trained. She has hardly spent eighteen years on Asgard, nothing in the eyes of your life. You can't expect her to fight for you, for this cause. Not now.”

I stood, frozen, in the arched doorway of the Bifrost. My fingertips had started to buzz, an unfortunate tic as my apprehension triggered a small burst of power.

“She will learn. I would be more than willing to help her adapt, help her understand her power,” the woman said calmly as she stepped forward. Odin held out his hand, a gesture for her to keep quiet. A mix of annoyance and anger dashed across her face, her eyes darkening slightly as the skin underneath turned a faint red-orange. She grabbed Odin’s hand before he could retract it and spun him around to face her. “You are only ruling here because I allow it.” The red-orange morphed into capital cursive ‘L’s twisting around her eyes. “That can change.”

Odin swallowed. A faint surprise twisted in my stomach. I had never seen the king tolerate someone looking at him the wrong way, not to mention threatening him. Whoever this woman was, I couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of awe, along with slight fear, as I studied her more closely.

Heimdall's eyes remained fixed on the king's face, any surprise concerning the woman's outburst entirely hidden. “And what about your sons?”

Odin’s chin tilted up, his cheek twitching slightly under his eyepatch. “They will understand.”

The woman's gaze finally rolled towards me, and she straightened slightly. “Odin,” she muttered, diverting the king's attention for the first time.

The three faces turned to meet my own confused and nervous gaze. The woman stepped forward, the only one to move as the two men watched wearily.

“Asariel,” she began, nodding slightly as I stepped forward in return. “My name is Alpha Legend. I need your help.”

~*~

Alpha led me into the castle, striding through the gold halls and glancing at me with a smile. “You know about the Legends stationed here?”

“Yes,” I answered, my hands playing with the frayed fabric of my shawl. “They've been training the orphaned children. Odin has a mission for them. No one really knows what it is, though.”

She nodded. “That's why I'm here. Why you're here, even. Those children are important, far more than they may realize.” We turned a corner, now walking into part of the castle I had little knowledge of. “I want you to join them.”

I swallowed, my fingertips once again buzzing. “I'm not orphaned. I have a father.” I knew that was an excuse, but I was desperately searching for something to keep me here. He had always told me this would happen; I just never thought it would.

“But he's not your real father. Odin allowed him to raise you, but they both reached an understanding that this would happen.” Her voice softened slightly. “You are incredibly powerful. Heimdall knew that the day he found you. He promised you a childhood, which is far more than what the other children had under Odin, but in the end, you were always one of them.”

I stayed silent, but my heart began to thud in my chest, my throat constricting as tears sprang to my eyes. The sudden thought of leaving my home, to embark on some mission I might never return from, was terrifying. “What is this mission?”

Alpha stopped walking, instead looking out from a wide balcony hanging over the side of the castle. “Before I tell you, I want you to understand that this isn't going to change anything about you. You're still Asgardian. You still have a family here, and they will care about you no matter where you are.” Her voice drifted slightly, her eyes glued onto the landscape before her. “This is a beautiful planet.”

I nodded softly, giving a quick smile in an effort to offset the weight in my stomach. “It is.”

A brief span of silence passed, and I slowly felt myself relax. Whatever this mission was, I had been destined to do it since the day I was found by Heimdall; this was my responsibility, whether either of us wanted it or not. I took a breath.

“You can tell me.”

Alpha's voice was strong, filled with understanding and a fierce determination. “The Nine Realms have always been Asgard's responsibility. A concern that we have been facing for far too long is the difficulty of properly watching over and protecting each of them. That's why you're here. We need nine Asgardians, nine warriors who are capable of watching over each Realm. Do you know anything of the Valkyrie?”

The Valkyrie. Some of the strongest women in Asgardian history, whose stories I had looked up to as a sort of role model. I nodded.

“The Valkyrie may be dead, but their purpose is not,” she continued. “The magic you have was meant to protect the millions of people who cannot protect themselves.”

I felt a strange stirring of emotions in my chest: pride, fear, that same sense of determination the radiated from Alpha Legend. “I understand.” I hesitated, a nervous excitement buzzing through my head. “And which Realm would be my responsibility?”

Alpha smiled, a knowing glint in her eye.

“Midgard.”