Echo
Hello, hello, is anybody out there
'Cause I can't hear a sound.
Alone, Alone, I don't really know where the world is
But I miss it now
'No, Loki.'
Those were the words that he kept hearing, over and over. No matter how hard he tried to force them out, those words said it all. 'No, you're not really my son.' 'No, you're not good enough.' 'No.' Like an echo, torturing his already wounded mind. Literally, his mind was wounded. Even with his, and all gods, ability to heal quickly, he knew he still had a concussion. And he would gladly take the concussion, if only those words would stop the searing pain that they caused. That they still were causing. He was falling through space. As best as he could figure, he had been falling for quite some time. Not that it mattered. Not that anything mattered anymore. In order to fully understand the motives and quiet struggles that shaped this creature, you'll have to go back a millennia, to when he was only a child…
'You're not nervous. You can win this thing. Maybe,' thought Loki. It was his first time dueling with his brother, Thor, in front of their father. For two centuries he had been practicing, praying he would get muscles, like Thor's, or to have great battle reflexes, like Thor's. It seemed his prayers would remain unanswered. He was still tall and slender, with little to no muscle. However, he hoped his passion and eagerness would make up for it. Needless to say, it hadn't. Here he was, standing in the small anti-room, waiting to see who would win the fight between his brother and some other simpleton. Technically, whoever the victor of this round would be the one he was to face, but Thor was rarely, if ever, beaten. Even as a youth, he possessed uncanny battle skills. Loki felt a tremor of envy run through him. His brother was simply everything he was not. They were close, not to be mistaken, but he was the one Loki no doubt looked up to and envied with equal measures. Standing there in his battle armor, armed with a spear and shield, he waited. Finally, it was his turn. He quickly straightened up and eagerly walked into the battle room. It was a simple affair, really. A small field of dirt, about twenty feet in diameter, was ringed by stands, much like what the Midguardians would call a stadium. Directly in the stands across from where he came were two simple, yet elegant, thrones, where Odin and Frigga sat. He strode to the middle of the field, where Thor was, preparing for another battle. 'Hello, brother! Are you ready?' asked Thor cheerfully, as if he hadn't just beat a fellow Asguardian to a pulp for sport. He would heal in under a day, no doubt, but it was still unsettling. 'I hope you're prepared to lose this time, brother.' Loki said in what he hoped was confidence. He had always been a great actor. He just hoped Thor had bought it. The horn blew and everything seemed to happen at once. Thor had feinted his spear towards Loki, who easily parried it, and while he was still preoccupied with deflecting the deadly sharp sword, gave him a full force blow with his shield. Loki tried not to cry out in pain, but the flash of pain still caused him to stumble backwards. He tried to go on the offense, but in reality he was out of his league, and he knew it, no matter how much he refused to accept it. Every so often, he was awarded with a hit. But, more often than not, it was him who was receiving the ringing blows. It continued on like that for a long time. Or so it seemed to Loki. In reality, it was only a few minutes. Frigga was worried sick every moment. This wasn't some random knight Thor was fighting, it was her son. Even though she knew of his true heritage, it was her more than anyone who had accepted him, and the only one who had accepted him completely in spite of his heritage. Every blow actually hurt her. And then, with one final blow, it was over. One little boy lay on the ground, bloody and bruised. His black hair was matted with blood, and already you could see him start to heal himself. Still, he was unconscious for one minute, which rightfully construed Thor as the victor. Thor wasn't trying to be mean, he just viewed it as playful fighting, much like the way puppies chase each other with a little too much force. 'And the victor is Thor, again!' announced Odin, without displaying any particular concern for his wounded son. And at that particularly inopportune moment, Loki made his way back to conscientiousness. He hurt all over, but most of all in his heart. And with that thought, he was carried to the infirmary.
'Mother, what is that?' asked a curious Loki. 'That's called magic, Loki. You see, inside each of us is something special, it keeps us alive, and it helps us connect with people. If you can access this special place inside you, something wonderful happens. Here, try this.' she said 'Hold out your hand. Now close your eyes, and imagine that there's a light coming from your fingertips. Very good! Now, imagine the light extending to your palm. Exactly… now imagine the light forming a ball in your hands… like that! Now, open your eyes, child, and see the light you've just made.' He opened his eyes, and what he saw changed his world forever. 'Mother, I would like to learn more about magic, I think I would like it very much.' Frigga suppressed a smile. She could remember how invigorated she was when she first discovered magic. 'All right, child. But I must warn you, if you discover this, you must be careful! Many temptations will try to entice you. However, you have a pure heart. I think you will do great things one day.' 'Maybe I will be able to make my father proud in this way', he thought.1