authour's note: hELLO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I hope you guys like it. Its the very beginning of my story. Dont forget to review as they are the cookies to my monster. ;D EHEHE ENJOY
CHAPTER ONE – The Cloaked Figure
My name is Halec Vandra. Strange name right? Many people just call me Hal, for short. So I guess it all starts here. This is where my story begins.
It all started in the Realm Eternal, on the planet Asgard. Asgard, infested with shimmering gold buildings and silver plated armoured guards, their vulture-like gazes scanning all. You get the picture. Though, my story begins in a less appealing city. The city of Grasia. Grasia is small harbour city. Boats used to sail into port, unload their goods, and sail off into the horizon. The goods were hurried off to Asgard, to feed the masses. Grasia was unpopular, but a brilliant place to play hide and seek. I was 23 when it all began.
I groaned as my eyes opened, and watched as the sun ghosted into the room, its long bright arms creeping onto the wooden floorboards. The sun was the only light in the dusty, cobwebbed room and that's the way I liked it. I loved the dark. The dark was my friend. I sat up and moved my short brown hair onto my shoulder. I took a deep breath, letting the aroma of fish and oil and the sea seep into my nostrils. It smelt foul at first, but I had grown accustomed to the smell, and it stunk reasonably pleasant. After getting dressed into a plain, simple, beige dress, I yawned and made my way downstairs. My bare feet pattered down the spiral staircase, wincing at the cold marble surface. Once at the bottom, I looked round. My house was never very big, I made do. The living room possessed a brown fur sofa, where a bear blanket laid loosely across it. A fireplace stood proudly in the middle of the room. I hinted a smirk, remembering the times when the fire roared, its flame blazing.
They were good memories. After getting breakfast and filling my stomach, I ventured outside, letting the narrow streets take hold of me.
The narrow, slender streets were shining in the sun's rays and hardly anyone was out today. I knew why. It was the Parade of The Kings, where the royal family of Asgard would take tour around its neighbouring cities. I didn't care much about the royals, and didn't see what the big deal was about. All I knew about the royals was that a small, old Allfather was king, and a fair lady was his Queen. They had two sons together. Thor was the only name I remembered.
As I was so caught up in my thoughts, I never realised that I bumped into someone. I mumbled an apology, and then faced up at the person who I'd bumped into. They were a dark cloak, hood up, but I could still see a long slender nose poking out from the shadows.
"Better watch where you're going." His voice rang out, harshly. I stood up to my feet and glared at him.
"Why are you wearing that cloak?" I asked, pointing to the suspicious clothing which fluttered slightly in the light breeze. A sigh emitted from under the hood.
"Does there have to be reason?" He groaned, seemingly annoyed. He definitely sounded higher-class, unlike most people in Grasia. He was clearly not from around here.
"Y-Yes." I replied timidly. "Yes, there does." I repeated, sounding a bit brave. I felt the eyes from underneath the hood stare into my soul, drilling into me.
"I do not want the royals to see me." The voice said quieter, as if he didn't want me to know that. The man looked away as we heard the crowd cheering. I was still confused. I wanted answers.
"Why?" I frowned, tilting my head. The voice gulped.
"Because they do not want to see me." The voice replied. I swear I heard tears in their voice. I lunged, quickly, pulling down their hood.
It was him. The prince who I had forgotten. Loki Laufeyson. His eyes, so cold, displayed his pain perfectly. He didn't even need to tell me what had happened, I could read his story from his eyes. His ivory skin was stretched against his skull, his cheekbones trying to pierce the gentle skin. Dark circles ran down from his eyes, as if eye liner had been smudged onto his eyes. His nose was long and slender. Short strands of ash black hair fell down his face. His lips were slightly parted, and were a faded pink, and small against his mouth. On closer inspection, I saw 8 holes on his mouth. 4 on the top lip, 4 on the bottom. What had happened to this guy? Before I could ask, though, he pushed my hand away with his, swooped his hood up, and disappeared in a flash of blue. When the blue smoke had faded, Loki was gone.