Chasing The Past

Chapter 1: A Little Death

Osmond POV 

A child. That was who I was when it happened. But after that I grew. Matured I suppose. My father once told me I would become a child of Loki if I wasn't careful. God of Mischief. My mother would laugh at him saying my brother had a better chance at earning the gods favour. She wasn't wrong. My brothers always looked down on me. Calling me a sin. Perhaps because Tyr favoured my wrath over my brothers. Blessed me with a cold rage that conquered the battle field. 

But they got too jealous maybe. It was night when they attacked. I was awoken by grabbing hands. Dragged to the woods by my 5 brothers and beaten until all I saw was blood. They left me there. And I left when I saw too much blood. 

I watched as my 3 sister's screamed when one of the villagers dragged my body into the square. They wanted to know who did it. They never suspected my brothers. And so I watched from somewhere I was never seen as life evolved, architecture and science, religion and wars. The world was no longer that tiny village anymore. It was expansive and dark but light and suffocating. 

I watched as leaders ruled and died, wars started and ended, cultures died and others were born, I watched life and death in all its meaning. And yet I was still alone. Those who died never joined me. They just died. Valhalla or Hel being their destination. Why did I not join them? 

I always wondered this as I wondered the earth, never sleeping, never eating. Just existing. 

People walked through me. Never seeing, never hearing. I'm surprised I haven't gone crazy yet. But then again perhaps I have. 

Despite it all I'm still here. In a large city with hideous skyscrapers ruining the view of natural life and ruining mother nature's design. 

"Oh my god she didn't? That little slag" said a stranger as they passed by a tiny uninhabited street people rarely went down them. Some even looked down them wearily, especially in the dark. I watched as people walked by unaware of my existence. If we can even call it that anymore. I sighed looking down at my nails which I noticed were still caked in blood from when I tried protecting myself from my brothers. Clothes were also torn and bloody, skin covered in a layer of blood yet I didn't have a wound on me. 

I sighed and headed towards the quiet of the end of the tiny street that was filled with trash, another thing that the human race failed at. Hygiene apparently. I sighed kicking a can that I saw. Well I didn't kick I mean my foot went through it. 

I sighed looking up towards the sky seeing the blue clouds that was the only thing in this world that had stayed the same. Well besides the pollution anyway. The buildings on either side of me squashed the view. So I couldn't see as far as I used to. Shame really, sky gazing used to be my favourite thing to do. 

Looking around I felt some sort of crackle in the air. Electricity was high thrumming through the city. 

Something big was about to happen. 

Running into the street obviously nothing happen. Cars passed through me and people kept up with their lives. Most likely unaware of what comes their way. Looking towards the sky I waited for something to happen. Anything. 

And then the beam shot from one of the newer towers into the sky. It created a portal. Unlike any I'd ever seen. Not like the sorcerers that tried helping me years ago. But different. Bigger in size and something else. And then the first of them descended. 

A different kind of life form. A flying slug with teeth and armour. 

Now would be the time for some sort of miracle to happen and well save everyone. 

Then it did. A group of remarkable people seemed to band together. To protect earth. And fight the battles others could not. 

Then the tin man flew into the portal. He wouldn't make it back. 

"Death isn't so bad my friend" I remember being told as a child by the man mentoring me into using my certain gifts. "For it helps those living understand that battles need to be fought in order for life to become eternal" I repeated as I watched the portal close. I was stood next to the Captain, silent to all but myself. "Rest today's saviours for tomorrow draws near" I Said before I decided to turn and walk, like always. A repeating pattern. 

For death is a repeating pattern.