Finding Odin's Brooch

Encounter in the Woods

My boots made no sound on the soft, dark earth as I followed my usual path. The warm green shade enveloped me the moment I stepped from the bright sunlight into the woods. A few steps further, and the brilliant green light faded to a darker shade. The spreading branches shut out all but a few shafts of direct sun and formed the roof of a forest cathedral. I took a deep breath and inhaled the mixture of damp earth and moss beneath my feet and the warm leaves high above my head.

My familiar seat rose from the forest floor just ahead. I clambered onto the smooth, cool surface of the boulder, settling cross legged in the small dip. The rock angled upward behind me and I drew another deep breath and relaxed back against it. It's as though somehow this rock, and this quiet section of the surrounding forest was here waiting for someone to appreciate it.

That's worth writing down. I opened my notebook and turned to a blank page with one hand, while rummaging in my pocket for my pen. Ah, there it is.

What if in the universe, there's a special place, just meant for us, a place where we can go and drink in the beauty around us, experience absolute peace, and feel completely content and at home?

I paused for a moment to let the next thought rearrange itself in my mind before I touched the pen to the clean page again. What if that's what we're searching for when we meander through a place? Maybe we're not lost, but our unique place is. Maybe that's why we wander.

Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I glanced up quickly from my book. Everything was still. Probably an insect or leaf on the breeze. I shifted slightly, ready to continue writing, when I saw another tiny flicker of movement. I turned to stare intently to my left. The trees grew close together and thick bushes tangled around the base of the trunks. This time, I caught more than a passing glimpse. A ripple of light, a greenish gold that was almost the same color as the surrounding forest, flashed for an instant through the trees.

I jammed the pen back into my pocket and tucked the notebook under my arm, then slid off the rock. Whatever was on the other side of the trees, I wanted a look. Asgard is a place of legend, after all. It could be nearly anything. I wiggled upward through the bushes into a place where several large trees met. There was a small patch of mossy earth between the trunks, giving me enough room to stand comfortably. I leaned carefully forward and parted the leaves to peer through them.

A much larger clearing lay before me. The grass was short and smooth, and the towering oak trees formed a rough circle. A small brook trickled down a tumble of rocks at the far side and flowed out of side into more dense foliage.

In the center of the clearing stood a man, his back to me. Even without seeing his face, I knew who he was. Black hair spilled over the collar of a loose tunic, and he spun gracefully on long legs. His piercing eyes looked directly at my hiding place, and I noticed the daggers in his hands. My heart jumped in the fear that he had seen me, but he continued his smooth movement and passed by.

The daggers vanished. At the same time, he reached toward the stream and lifted the water. I was transfixed as it rose. He moved both hands, never touching the water, but somehow shaping it like a ball of clay. It became opaque and appeared to harden into ice. He opened his hands and it hovered above them.

Almost faster than I could realize, the daggers were back in his hands. The ball of ice had no time to fall to the ground before he struck it smoothly, breaking it into chunks, then again slicing the pieces into small shards. The greenish light flashed from the blades with each stroke.

I'd never seen someone move like that, let alone use magic. I leaned slightly forward into the bushes, hoping he'd repeat the process, when a hand closed firmly over my shoulder. I leapt in surprise and stifled a sharp noise of shock, before whirling around to find myself in the grip of a guard. His hand dropped to seize my wrist.

"Step into the open, please."

I complied, wiggling awkwardly between the tree trunks and stumbling slightly on the uneven ground.

"What are you doing?" His face was stern and his voice serious, although not really angry.

I stared that the guard for a moment, still surprised to see anyone. "I, ah... I was watching Prince Loki. I've never seen anyone doing magic before."

He nodded and released my wrist. "You don't sound Asgardian. You're from Midgard, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I live here now. I... I don't want to go back."

His brow furrowed with surprise. "I saw no crime committed that would require you to return to Midgard. Watching the prince is not forbidden, but it does raise questions."

I relaxed slightly at his comment, but still felt apprehensive. What if he changes his mind?

"I'm sorry, I saw the light from Prince Loki's magic through the trees and was curious—"

He held up a palm. "That's fine. Come with me."

We walked through my peaceful clearing and he glanced over at me. "What were you doing out here in the woods to begin with?"

"Relaxing and writing. It's beautiful and quiet here."

"All right. Are you a poet, or playwright?"

"No." I shook my head. "I teach Midgardian historic literature and writing style at the Academy. This is where I come to think and be inspired on days when I don't have a class. I write for practice, and for fun."

He raised his eyebrows and sunlight through the leaves sparkled off his helmet. "You're one of the smart ones."

I cocked my head in confusion. "How so?"

"You're one of the Midgardians the Allfather invited to Asgard to share knowledge from the other Realms."

"Ah, I see. I was one of the teachers invited, yes."

He nodded again, thoughtfully this time. "In that case, you're coming with me to the palace. The Prince needs new recruits for his army. He's been looking for someone like you. I'll take you to him."