The Spark
Chapter One
The shining gold of Asgard was almost blinding. The light of the realm eternal seemed to shine out across the universe, as bright as a star, once a beacon to those who had worshipped its people. As a child, the young prince had awoken every morning, his breath taken by his home's extraordinary beauty. He had rushed from his bed to the window that overlooked everything from the palace garden to the Bifröst at the far edge of the realm. When he wasn't studying magic with his mother, sparring with his elder brother, or learning the history of the Nine Realms from his father, Loki was wandering every inch of Asgard he could find, desperate to learn all of its secrets, to know it like no one else would. It enraptured him and enthralled him, this place of dazzling enchantment. But now, years later, after Loki Odinson had learnt its secrets and wandered its streets, he found it frightfully dull.
He wandered around the palace, flicking his wrist to topple goblets off of tables and trays, to trip up guards as they passed, to make a lady's skirt fly up as she passed, but all of this was momentary entertainment. Most of the subtle tricks—falling glasses or tipped plates—were never blamed on Loki; they seemed to be too accidental and natural. However, there were only so many times a guard could pass the prince and trip on air without becoming suspicious. If they saw him wandering around with a smirk on his face, his hands clasped behind his back, they knew to skirt subtly away. This day was no different.
As if the loud clattering of a platter of food crashing to the floor had alerted her, Loki's mother appeared with a look of disapproval on her fair face. Frigga, the Queen of Asgard, approached and quickly righted the fallen platter.
"Your father did not appreciate your little trick," she said, staring at him with an arched eyebrow and a look that her son had come to fear throughout their lives.
"What, that?" Loki said incredulously, nodding at the food. "That was nothing."
"Not that," said Frigga with an impatient shake of her head. "I'm speaking of earlier, Loki, when you saw fit to send a Glimmer to your history lesson instead of going there yourself."
Loki couldn't help but grin sheepishly. "You would have done the same if you were being forced to study the dullest creatures in all of the Nine Realms, Mother," he said. "Besides, I was just . . . practicing what you taught me."
Frigga sighed, shaking her head once more. "I did not teach you how to project an image of yourself so you could shirk your responsibilities, Loki."
But Loki continued to smile innocently at her, rocking on the balls of his feet, a mischievous look on his face that never failed to make her laugh. Sighing with a chuckle, she gave in and reached over to pinch his cheek as she had done all his life.
"Your form was off, anyway," she scolded lightly. "Odin knew it was a Glimmer the moment he saw it."
Loki ducked away from her and quickly spun around so that he stood on the other side of her, not wishing his cheeks to be pinched a second time. "How?" he said, affronted. "I thought I'd done a good job since I hadn't heard his enraged voice echoing across the palace."
"You were flickering," said Frigga. "He had only to touch you and you disappeared. If you had focused more, you would have at least kept your form. As for his enraged voice, I do believe he gave up for the day. Although, I would not think it wise to seek him out just now unless you want a lecture."
"One a day is enough, Mother, thank you," said Loki with a seemingly benevolent smile.
With his adolescence behind him, and with it his lessons of magic with his mother and his sparring and training and schooling with his brother (although his history lessons with Odin were, unfortunately, still going on), Loki found himself increasingly bored and shunted off to the side. Though a date had not yet been set, the time for Thor's coronation was approaching. It could be in a few days, a few months, or a year, but it was coming closer and closer, and it would change everything. Loki would forever remain "the young prince" while his slightly idiotic bear of a brother became king of all Nine Realms. Surely both Odin and Frigga would reap the rewards of training their future-king in battle and strength more than wisdom and knowledge. It would only be a matter of time before the new All-Father came begging his little brother for his advice on how not to destroy a world.
After leaving his mother, Loki found himself wandering towards the area were all of the dual ships were housed. The small ships were large enough to hold only a small number of people and were good for nothing more than cruising the waters and skies of Asgard, but at least it offered a small amount of entertainment. Because the ships were off-limits to any civilians, Thor often seduced and enticed women with a ride. In all of the combat training they had done, Loki remembered vividly the day they had finally been able to learn to drive the ships. Though primarily used for battle, no one saw any harm in allowing the two princes to gallivant around in them if they so desired, as long as no one was in need of them. That first day, Loki had glided around Asgard like he had driven the ships all his life. Thor had destroyed his by crashing into the side of a cliff.
When he approached, the guard standing by the docks stepped aside immediately to allow him to board the closest ship. He stood at the helm, easing out of the loading area carefully and not careening around like Thor would have done. The moment he was free of all obstacles, he took off away from the palace and the buildings, heading towards open water.
Standing at the helm, feeling the wind caress his face, the sense of freedom was amazing. He had left Asgard only a handful of times, all of which were accompanied by Odin or Thor. Because Thor often led the armies in battle, it was he had his four "warriors" who traveled the universe looking for things to punch and hack. Sometimes he invited his younger brother along if they needed some sort of concealment or another defensive magic or if Thor was feeling particularly generous, but usually Loki was left home.
Though Loki had felt terribly put-out when he was younger about being left behind all the time, now he was over it. He didn't crave battle and the crashing of swords—or hammers—like his brother did. Loki was perfectly content to stay home and wreak havoc by tricking and fooling people, sneaking off to secret crevices, and stealing books from the vast libraries. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed having fewer responsibilities than his brother.
Loki approached the cliffs at breakneck speed. Though he'd done this countless times, it never ceased to be thrilling as he sped toward the wall of rock as swiftly as if he meant to intentionally crash. He turned at the very last possible second and began flying alongside the cliffs, growing closer and closer to the edge of Asgard, to the waterfall that flowed into a starry abyss. He and Thor had always been warned not to get too close, lest they should be sucked down, but when did they listen? Besides, Loki knew he was in no danger; he knew how close he could get before he started to feel the painful pull of the universe outside of Asgard.
It was only when he saw a flash, a glistening out of the corner of his eye that he slowed the ship, gazing intently at the cliff to his right. The solid rock loomed above him, the top of which he could not even see from where he hovered. Then, suddenly, he saw it: a hole in the cliff. It seemed small from where he was, but as he grew closer, he saw that it was just about the same size of the ship. Not even bothering to consider the consequences or what might actually be in the depths of the cliff, Loki eased the ship into the hole.
Immediately, he was pulled forward. Pulling back on the brake did nothing; he and the ship were careening into the bowels of the rock, the wings smashing onto the sides and sending sparks and debris flying. He could neither steer nor stop, only hope that he wasn't about to be ejected into space itself and sucked down a wormhole. Loki could not suppress the shout of fear and alarm that escaped his lips with the nose of the ship caught on the rocky floor of the narrow passageway. His heart leapt into his throat and all of his muscles clenched as he was thrown from the ship and through the air, flying straight for a bright light at the end of the tunnel, leaving the burning wreck of his ship behind him.
"These will be due on Friday, November 8th. Have a great day, sir!"
The man mumbled an indiscernible response, took his books, and walked away. The young woman continued smiling until he was out of sight before letting her face drop and turning away. She brushed a strand of blond hair from her face and went back to her book, reading the poems for what felt like the thousandth time, leaning on the front desk with her elbows resting on the wooden surface, her brown eyes devouring the page before her.
"Julia," came a familiar voice, once more jolting her from her reading, "do you ever stop reading over that boring little book?"
Julia knew that her best friend was joking, but it did sting a little. No one really supported her love of the book ever since she had first gotten it as a young girl. Now that she was old enough to actually understand the poems within, she could rarely keep her nose out of it. Of course, this led to endless teasing from her friends and family.
Her friend, Victoria, plucked a free bookmark from a basket and waved it around, clearly bored with being forced to be within the walls of a library, a place she couldn't stand. She surveyed the small number of patrons still wandering the shelves just minutes before Julia and her coworkers would be forced to kick them all out and lock up for the evening. Most of people were college students looking for books that their university library didn't have, something that was possible albeit unlikely. Every once and a while the two friends saw a child flitting through the shelves.
"How much longer?" Victoria asked in a dramatic, groaning voice. "Jules, we have to go home and get ready to go out."
Julia rolled her eyes, wishing she could go back to her book for these last few minutes. She adored Victoria, but she wasn't much of a reader and therefore didn't understand why her friend might prefer to stay home with a mug of hot chocolate and a book rather than go out to the bars in hopes of picking up guys. When it finally came time to close up, Julia deposited her book into her backpack and started the arduous task of shooing library patrons either to the check out desk or out the doors. By the time they finished and everything was locked up, Victoria was practically jumping up and down with impatience.
Luckily for her, the apartment the two friends shared wasn't too far from the public library where Julia worked. It was nestled above a small, hole-in-the-wall café/bookstore on the corner of the street, frequented by the quieter kind of college students, the ones who preferred to come to sip their coffee or tea alone with no company other than a tattered paperback or a newspaper. Julia loved it there, but Victoria insisted that it was dull and smelled weird.
Both young women were students at the local university, halfway through the first semester of their final year. While Victoria was aiming for a degree in Communications, hoping to jet set off to Los Angeles to be Tom Cruise's next publicist or manager, Julia was content with her majors in English and History, as well as her minor in Computer Science. The moment she graduated, she intended to fly to the University of Iceland for her Master's degree and perhaps never return. Victoria thought she was nuts.
"Hey, Vic," Julia called as she headed into her bedroom and deposited her backpack onto the bed, "how much would you hate me if I brought up the possibility of me not going tonight?"
Immediately, Victoria poked her head in through the doorway as she attempted to zip up the back of her dress. "You're going," she declared fiercely. "Juliana Nicole, you are going to the bar with me tonight. You promised. I have been looking forward to going all damn week, and I'll be damned if I let you sit out!"
Julia suppressed a retort and quickly shut the door. She knew Victoria meant business if she used both her first and middle name, which she knew perfectly well that Julia hated. Grumbling curses and complaints to herself, Julia shed her clothing from the day and quickly put on a simple, all black ensemble that revealed nothing but her arms and shoulders and left her unlikely to get hit on and therefore increased the likelihood of being able to return home alone (and hopefully early if Victoria found a guy quickly enough). After running a brush through her hair, applying the least dramatic mascara and lipstick she could find, and trading her dark-rimmed glass with contact lenses, she walked out to the living room to wait.
Victoria emerged looking drop-dead gorgeous, of course, in a brand new dress she had just bought after saving up for it for months. After receiving the required, expected, and deserved compliments from her best friend, Victoria turned her attention to Julia.
"You look nice, too," she tried weakly.
Julia shrugged. "I look presentable, which is fine with me. Ready to go?"
"Yes!" Victoria squealed excitedly. "Let's go!"
