Everyone remembers where they were on the day the aliens showed up. I was in an old folks home, watching an old man assault a monster I later learned was called chitauri with his cane. My life got a whole lot more interesting after that. Not because everyone's life, just life on Earth in general, became a crazy roller coaster ride we more often than not shared with people who made some very interesting clothing choices before heading out to punch some Nazis. My life in particular became interesting because I got into a habit of dropping by retirement homes whenever life slowed down to a speed I wasn't comfortable with.
Yes, it took an invasion for me to realize how much fun old people were, even if they weren't fighting aliens at the time. But now that I was in on the secret I knew my infiltration of retirement homes for what it was – about the best idea I've had since I decided to duck before an alien could take my head off. Most memorable of them all was of course the elderly gentleman that was clearly losing his mind. Losing it in a very specific way…
"The Allfather," I repeated.
"Yes."
"So… where are your pet ravens?" I said, trying to keep my smile down a little in case he didn't appreciate my amusement.
I knew I was onto something special when I saw the combination of an eyepatch and the fact that some of his hair was braided. Definitely not your 21st century look. So when he unpacked this whole old-time Viking thing on me I wasn't entirely surprised. Still, I didn't expect he'll claim to be the scariest viking of them all...
"Where are my ravens?" he repeated in a tone that made no secret of the fact I might have just angered a god. "You are face to face with a deity and that is your first question…?"
"It's a safe question," I said, defending it. "What would you prefer – if I asked which of your kids dropped you off here? Because that one I can answer for myself, I think… The son that helps us puny earthlings fight our battles even though he probably has better things to do or the one who picked Earth as the planet he wanted to be an evil overlord of…? Or do you have some children I don't know about?"
At that he looked up sharply, studying my face with far more attention than he paid me before. Whatever he was looking for, though, he didn't find.
"You're right. That question is not that hard to answer."
"Unlike the one about ravens, which you're still avoiding," I pointed out. That made him momentarily smile. If I didn't know better I'd think he was wondering if I had any Viking ancestors. Which I did, not that that had anything to do with my power to tell what people are thinking. Or gods. "So… when are you breaking out?"
"What?"
"This is no place for the Allfather. And the fact that Loki," I said, making a face, "wants you here is reason enough to run for it. Call on the Bifrost guy…"
"Heimdall," said the old man automatically.
"Yeah, him. Grab a space taxi. Go home. Go sit on your ridiculously oversized throne and stare into middle distance pondering the future of your kingdom or whatever god emperors do all day…"
Something about the way he glanced at me told me I wasn't that far off. Well, this was enlightening… I sat in silence for a moment, wondering if I was helping the old-timer by carrying on like this. But he did seem to be enjoying being taken seriously for once. I didn't have the heart to take that away from him – even if that left him with a story far sadder than my children never visit. If his children were who he insisted they were it was in everyone's best interest that they continue not visiting.
"So… if you were me and you saw an actual god, this time up close instead at a distance in the midst of a battlefield full of disgusting aliens… what would be the question you'd ask?" I said after thinking about it for a moment.
"I'd wonder at the discrepancies between what your ancestors remember and what is the actual history of Asgard," he said, also giving his words some serious thought before speaking.
"Oh that is a good one," I nodded approvingly. "Wish I'd think of it… Because here's the thing I really hope we just lost in a translation somehow. So this eight legged horse…"
I don't remember what exactly he said after I recounted that little story as the norse mythology would have it. I do remember he made me laugh so hard the nurses started frowning at me for making too much noise. And I really needed to keep low profile around them. Didn't want them to start asking questions, considering I really shouldn't be anywhere near here, not having an elderly relative in this facility. Not having an elderly relative, period. Which was probably why it took me so long to realize how awesome the elderly could be. And this one was really something, as he kept proving time and again.
The odds were he was just an old man having fun with his losing battle with senility. I didn't actually believe I was talking to thousands of years old being from another world. Though… there were moments when he really had me going, as he corrected all I thought I knew about early history of Scandinavia or spoke about his children. That part of the story sounded too genuine to be made up. He definitely had a son who dropped him off here and never looked back. Which made it all the stranger when he sounded almost proud of him for it.
"So let's say I believe you," I said, a sentence I was catching myself saying more and more often as I made these little visits almost a daily ritual.
"Let's say that," nodded the old man.
"You're a god. You have all kinds of super… powers…" I said coming to a halt. "Is the word superpowers in some way offensive?"
"It's inaccurate. But as long as I know what you mean, feel free to use any words you feel comfortable with."
"Right. Well… How exactly did he manage to get rid of you? Loki?" I added in case he wasn't keeping up. Which he was. Of course he was. These were his stories first, long before I started taking them more seriously than anyone should. "And if he could why the hell didn't he before? Or did he just discover some kind of frostgiant mojo that finally rendered you powerless…? And another thing – I mean he is a frostgiant… Shouldn't he be taller? Or is that just false advertising…?"
"That's a lot of questions," he commented and fell silent for long enough to make me think he wasn't going to answer a single one. In the end though, he did. "You must understand – at the end of the day, he doesn't want to hurt me."
"Oh I get that. At the end of the day he doesn't want the throne either, but there he is sitting on it anyway. You'd think, considering how much longer those ridiculous lifespan of yours are, that you'd have time enough to deal with all your issues. To do that without wrecking perfectly good planets in a process," I said, still sounding just as bitter about that whole alien army thing as I did the day it happened.
"Despite our, as you say, ridiculous lifespans this is a rather recent development."
"Oh," I said, seeing now. "So it's all your fault, isn't it? I mean what's up with dropping that whole you're adopted thing on him? You kept it a secret how long? Was it really necessary to come clean on that at this point…?"
"He was starting to suspect. I just confirmed what he already knew, deep down…"
"And there goes another issue I have. I mean how do you not know you're a frostgiant? All I know about them is the name and that seems a pretty good indication that it comes with some serious perks, right? Cold never bothered me anyway kind of thing," I translated since he seemed momentarily confused by what I was talking about. "Wouldn't it manifest? Wouldn't there be some indication that would tip him off he might not be the same species as everybody else…?"
"You have a lot of questions…"
"About a guy who tried to enslave my whole species? You bet I have…" I said, interrupting. He just nodded, seeing my point.
"Why don't you just come out and say it, then. I can tell you're thinking it. And no, not because one of my superpowers is mindreading," said the old man, watching me with borderline amused expression.
"It's not something I feel comfortable saying to a god. Oh, but…you're not the one that can have me hit by a lightning bolt for my hubris. He's off planet. He is, isn't he?" I added nervously.
"Yes."
"Alright then," I said, taking a breath before actually saying out loud. "You suck at parenting old-timer. And speaking as someone who almost had a building dropped on her because of one of your kids… Not ok… I mean you're a god. That was a perfect time to step in and tell him to go to his room. Instead you did nothing as a goddamn alien army invaded my city – not to mention my completely ordinary life. I was so boring before all that. You can't imagine how boring. And now I'm drinking tea with a norse god. That is not how the world works, yet here we are all the same. And it's your fault."
"I know," he said. And in his voice there was a depth of emotion that told me he was responding to more than just my whining. That maybe he didn't need my whining to understand how much of this was down to him being less than ideal father.
"More tea?" I asked. "And will you ever tell me where your magic ravens are or am I to assume they're still in Asgard?"
"You are free to assume whatever you like," he said simply.
We drank our tea, me still upset over how my life got the opposite of boring over the last few years, him lost in some deep thoughts. Which was kind of his default expression. I imagined he looked like that all the time if I wasn't around to ask him questions about his space empire or criticize his parenting. It either meant his Alzheimer's was getting worse or that he was hard at work at planning a jailbreak. And I could only imagine what fresh hell would be unleashed once he got out of here…
As it transpired I was right about that. When I stopped by a few days later I was informed that the old man was missing. The strange looks the nurses gave me when I asked whether or not there have been rainbow light show surrounding his disappearance told me I wanted to keep it down with the weird if I wanted to keep visiting. I thought that was the end of the story. No such luck. Once you have space royalty in your life there really is no going back to normal.
"Ragnarok is coming," said the familiar voice when I picked up my phone, confirming my suspicions about my life staying on the wrong side of interesting.
Now Ragnarok is coming is not the thing I want to hear without a warning at four in the morning from someone I definitely didn't give my number to. "It is?" I said somewhat incoherently. "Wait… Ragnarok…? The wolf eating the sun and the moon? Or is that one of the things that got lost in translation…?"
"The sun and the moon are safe," said the Allfather reassuringly. I smiled to myself before getting out of bed and shuffling to the kitchen to make myself a coffee, since I could tell this was going to be a long conversation.
"So… what exactly is it? The version I heard had a lot to do with all the gods dying," I said with a yawn.
"Are you worried about us?"
"I'm worried about me. If you with all your superpowers can die then I have every reason to be worried. I've been very aware of my own mortality lately. Since I almost got crushed under an alien flying thingy… Anyway. How do you know that Ragnarok is coming?"
"I can feel my time is coming and after I'm gone it will be inevitable."
That shut me up for a second. I walked over to the window and looked up despite the fact that living in the city I wasn't able to see the stars. The act still made me feel slightly better. Looking up at some distant spot out there in space where they have much bigger problems than I ever did... "You're going to die?" I said, just making sure I got that right as I kept my eyes on the sky.
"Everyone's going to die, sooner or later," he replied, reminding me why I preferred to do this face to face. It was really hard to find an appropriate reply to this when I was unable to see his expression.
"I kind of assumed you still have a few more millennia to go…" I said in the end.
"I've been alive for many millennia already," he replied, sounding tired enough to convince me he was telling the truth about that.
"So… is this goodbye? Not that I'm not grateful for giving me the heads up for the end of the world, but… a phone call? Really?"
"I'd say goodbye in person but I'm in Norway."
"I should be surprised, but I'm really not," I said with a chuckle. "Did you stow away on a ship or… No, wait, you flew didn't you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"So tell me about Ragnarok. What's going to happen? Will there be a giant wolf?"
"Yes," he said simply. "Asgard will be destroyed."
"Asgard will be destroyed," I repeated, catching myself glancing up at the sky again. "How? Wait… can you actually see the future?"
"I can make an educated guess."
"So let's hear it. Starting with the part I need to worry about…" I added. "Will this affect Midgard?"
"I thought you preferred to call it Earth."
"I did, but since I've said the word Ragnarok more often in the last few minutes than I did in last few years I'm just going with it. We're talking about giant fight scene full of gods – calling my homeworld Midgard seems perfectly normal in this context."
It might have been the bad reception, but I could have sworn he laughed.
"So… How's Norway?" I said, realizing I really didn't want to know what apocalyptic plot developments my future held.
"Sunny."
"Why did you go there again?"
"Waiting for my sons…"
"Your sons that never visit? So, let me get this straight… You're doing the exact same thing you've been doing for months in the retirement home, except you're in Norway now. Does that make a difference?"
"The view is nicer," he replied.
"That's really far to travel for a nice view. Or did you go to a specific spot to reminisce about good old days when you were killing frostgiants instead of adopting them?"
"I'm at a specific spot," he said in a strange tone.
"Is this when you tell me the latitude and longitude and tell me to build you a temple there…?" I said, taking a sip from my coffee. "Actually. I think I found a flaw in your logic. If you're waiting for your sons why not wait somewhere they'll know to look for you? Like the retirement home…"
"It's going to be demolished in a few weeks."
"It is? How do you know that…?"
"I'm the Allfather," he said. That was his version of I just know, ok? he went for every time he didn't feel like drawing attention to his supposed superpowers.
"Alright, Allfather. Why tell me? I don't need to know a place that's probably halfway across the galaxy is about to get destroyed. I wasn't planning on holidaying there. So spill it oldtimer. What's this about?"
"Asgard isn't a place. It's a people," he said. I took a moment to wonder if we were having the same conversation because this felt like it came out of nowhere.
"That's just how I like my answers. Cryptic and unrelated to the question," I said shaking my head.
There was a silence on the other side. I took another few seconds to think about it. "Ok, wait… You're telling me Asgard, the actual physical location, will be destroyed, but the people might get away…? No wonder you sound way calmer than you should, considering you're someone whose life's work is about to be obliterated."
"Asgard is not my life's work."
"Let me stop you right there, because I can tell you're about to say something really sweet about your kids and I don't have enough caffeine in my system to be able to bite back some kind of sarcastic remark," I said. And I would have continued in the same vein, using words like genocidal and psychopath, in that order, but suddenly felt a scary thought sneak up on me. "Odin… why are you in Norway?"
"I don't think you've ever called me Odin before," he said, completely ignoring the question. Typical Odin…
"Obviously. It's informal as hell and you are technically my… alien overlord," I said, struggling with the terminology. "I mean Earth is one of those nine realms of yours, isn't it? That makes me your subject. Subject of whoever inherits the throne. And all of a sudden I need you to use your superpowers and assure me that whatever Ragnarok actually is Thor is walking away from it in one piece. Because I am not kneeling before Loki."
"If you're so concerned about the future… there is a place that can answer your questions. But I must warn you, whatever you see can't be unseen."
"Really? A temple of spoilers?" I grinned. "It's not in Norway, is it?"
"No."
"So what is it? Magic cave? They're usually magic caves. And I'm telling you right now, I don't care about the rules, I'm taking my lightsaber with…"
"Water of Sights," said the old man.
"Ok, that's… I've heard of that. Normally I'd go is that real? but I think I already know the answer to that," I sighed. I knew what was coming next and I hated it, but there was no way I could not say it. "Right. Where do I find it?"
He told me.
I wrote down the directions very carefully. He didn't say it, but then he didn't have to – we both knew this was something of a reward for taking him seriously when anyone else would dismiss things he was saying as ramblings of a very old man. And here I was not entirely sure I was worthy. I just went along with it because it amused me. And if it turned out everything he told me was true, if I went to the place he just described to me and found something legit enough to give me a vision of the future, I wasn't entirely sure how I'd react. I imagined there might be some serious freaking out involved as I finally gave up the last hope of my life ever returning to being ordinary.
I looked at the half a page of instructions of how to find a mythical place that induced precognition apparently even in complete muggles like myself and sighed. What a way to start a day…
"You didn't actually answer my question," I realized. Not that it was anything new. He threw a distraction at me every time he didn't feel like answering me. I still didn't know if he could beastmaster all ravens or if his pets on Asgard were some special, alien breed…
"What question was that?" he said, sounding completely innocent. I knew him well enough not to buy it.
"Why are you in Norway? And don't say waiting for my sons, that really won't do. Everything you do is for a reason. Which begs the question why are you still on Earth," I realized, suddenly feeling very awake.
"Because it's one of my realms. One I've been neglecting for too long."
"That's a nice sentiment. But you're technically still neglecting it, because hanging out somewhere in Norway enjoying the view is not doing anything for us earthlings."
"Maybe I'm trying to help one earthling at the time," said the old man, surprising me into silence. Though only for a second…
"Explain the logic behind that. Did your superpowers tell you I'll need to visit a magic cave…?"
"You told me yourself."
"Did I?" I said, trying to remember how much did I actually tell him. He definitely knew I wasn't a fan of how he ruled Midgard by completely ignoring it for centuries at a time. I didn't think I told him about my occasional PTSD dreams that had a lot to do with the bloody chaos of the chitauri invasion. And I definitely didn't tell him do you know a place that can show me the future? because I really want to see the future...
"You are afraid. You're using humor to hide it even from yourself, but you fear things you believe your species should never have to fear. Things that have no right to be real. Like gods…" he said. And I could have sworn he sounded a little apologetic about that.
Briefly I considered… but no… no, this was just our little private joke. No way could the harmless old man be the king of Asgard… I wasn't even sure I believed he was calling me from Norway so the fact I even considered believing he was who he claimed would be was just a side effect of the caffeine finally kicking in.
"And if I have the access to the Water of Sight, then… what? My fear will just disappear? At the contact with another thing that has no right to exist on this planet that was completely ordinary and beneath the notice of celestial beings, last I checked…?" I said, frowning. "Or is the theory that I can get slowly get used to all this weirdness, one improbable supernatural experience at a time…?"
"Whichever you prefer. I find that knowing the future gives you better chance. It gives you a time to prepare yourself for it…" he replied.
"Now you're just depressing me. Talking like you're about to… Oh, right," I remembered. "You are going to die."
"I am," he said, with a kind of calm that was hard to reconcile with what he was actually telling me here. I guess that what an impossible lifespan gives you. A chance to overcome the fear of dying.
"When? And do you have a dying wish? Is that why you called me in the middle of the night?"
"I called you in middle of the night because I didn't take in account the time difference."
I laughed and took another sip of my coffee. "And is it just possible that you were bored? Not much to do in Norway once you found the right spot where the Asgard 2.0 should be built."
And now it was him who was wordless. The part of me that believed he really was a god was pretty damn impressed with myself right now.
"That obvious?" he said after a considerable silence.
"Well let's not overestimate my powers. You did give me all the clues. If your people survive the destruction of Asgard they will need a place to stay – and you just happen to be in a country where you can just point out it would be a frozen wasteland full of corpses if you didn't step in and stop the frostgiants way back when. It's not that hard to put it together," I said, smiling to myself. "Just one thing I don't understand. Why? Why give me all the clues. You as much as told me and… why do I need to know?"
"I assumed you are somewhat afraid of us… Just because we are outwardly similar to you doesn't mean we're not alien. And with your history with alien invasions…"
"You thought you'd give me an advanced warning," I said, nodding. "Appreciated. Though now I'm way more worried because the fact you thought I need a time to mentally prepare myself tells me it might be nothing like I picture it. And I picture it all happening on the opposite side of the planet. How can I possibly get involved?"
"You imagine you'll be able to stay away?"
"No, probably not," I admitted, smiling to myself. "You Asgardians do happen to be a rather good company. You know… for aliens…"
We spoke a little more, about nothing as dramatic as the imminent destruction of Asgard or his not-too-distant death. Just killing time until the sun rose and I had to get on with my day – the few hours of it I somehow managed to keep completely ordinary. But just because we covered all the important things in that call didn't mean he didn't call again. He did. A lot. Apparently Norway really wasn't that interesting, especially since the part of it he chose to stay in was a barren piece of shoreline miles from anywhere inhabited. The sea looked lovely though, or so he told me. Several times. Having me lean toward the seriously senile explanation rather than confused due to Asgardian magic as the time progressed. Until the day when I walked by the retirement home and found that it was due to get demolished sometime by the end of the week. And just like that, the annoying little voice that forever went but what if he really is the Allfather? was back in full force and would not shut up…
It didn't since. Every time I see a raven flying by, every time I have a dream whose weirdness is outside of the usual parameters, the thought is there. Because the calls have stopped and I know it can only mean one thing. And I catch myself with all the questions I wished I'd asked him while there was still time, like what happened to that blue space magic cube all that chitauri chaos was about or if the Asgardians have something against cutting their hair or… and then I remember.
And I miss him, miss the strange old man as much as I miss the alien overlord of the nine realms he probably wasn't… almost definitely wasn't… couldn't have been, could he...? No. I refused to live in a universe where gods could be stripped of their powers and dropped on my planet of all places.
And yet – if I wake up one day to news of an alien spaceship full of Asgardian refugees lading somewhere in Norway I will not be surprised. I might even drop by for a visit. Maybe one of them will finally give me a straight answer about the ravens. Maybe not. Either way, I find that if I want interesting conversation I'm kind of stuck with aliens. The more godlike the better…