...Start My Glory Days...

Rosalie doodled on a sheet of parchment, listening half-heartedly to her mother as she attempted to teach her daughter the basics of astrophysics. Some time ago, Jane Foster insisted that her daughter learned the science behind some of Asgard's remarkable luxuries. Jane often contended that the magical practices of the Asgardian medical facilities were nothing more than advanced technologies. After listening to a few lectures, Rosalie had discovered that she was right. Now they had moved on to topics including the physics of the Bifrost, and the use of wormholes. Jane often explained the Midgardian theories regarding many of Asgard's advancements. The more her mother spoke of the relationship between Midgardian science and Asgardian magic, the more easily Rosalie came to a startling conclusion.

Magic was just science that most did not understand.

Her lessons with her mother validated her beliefs in the usefulness of magic. She wished that all members of Asgardian society understood the things her mother did. Medical practices and forms of magic beneficial to society were readily accepted in Asgard. However, magic in combat, or deceiving illusions, were scorned. Personally wielding magic was unthinkable, an almost forbidden practice. Why, Rosalie did not have the slightest idea.

Normally, Rosalie would take great pleasure in these educational sessions with her mother, but today, she found herself distracted by the mystifying legend of the sorcerer. Assuming that he existed, the alleged sorcerer had once been consumed by the power of magic. Rosalie reckoned that the sorcerer truly understood the lure of necromancy. Magical enchantments compelled those that mastered its dominion into relying on their power for every meaningless and monumental task. Unbeknownst to her family, Rosalie understood this temptation well...

"Rosalie? Are you even listening?"

The young princess jolted, her train of thought momentarily squandered. The reigning queen's eyes were trained upon her inquisitive daughter. Rosalie flashed an apologetic frown at her mother, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, mother," she sighed, smudging ink as she dropped her quill upon the parchment.

"What troubles you, darling?" Jane asked, a concerned look creasing her forehead. She was slightly surprised by her daughter's lack of enthusiasm. Typically, Rosalie listened to her mother's lessons with rapt attention. Today, she appeared to be distracted.

Rosalie hesitated, avoiding her mother's eyes until she gathered her thoughts. "Father told me a story while we were riding yesterday," she admitted, slowly piecing together her words. "I asked why we never rode beyond the city's limits." A foreboding feeling washed over Jane as she quickly concluded where the conversation was heading.

"What do you know of the evil sorcerer?" Rosalie questioned softly.

Jane sighed and set aside the few books and diagrams she had been using as visuals. "What did your father tell you?" she asked instead of answering.

Rosalie visibly relaxed, relieved that her mother was willing to have this discussion with her. "He told me that the sorcerer was dangerous and powerful," she pursed her lips with a thoughtful expression. "He said that the sorcerer has been imprisoned for some time, and that everyone is afraid to look for him..." Rosalie tried to recall any further information that her father had disclosed, but came up with nothing.

"Is that all..?"

"I think so," Rosalie's mouth pressed into a thin line, as she probed her memory. "He really did not want to talk about it," she admitted feebly.

This did not surprise Jane in the slightest. She imagined it took a great deal of strength for her husband to even speak of his estranged brother. It had been years since he had spoken a word to Jane about it. No matter how hard Thor tried to dismiss it, she knew his brother's imprisonment tore at his heart. Jane also was not surprised to learn that Thor had avoided telling Rosalie that the sorcerer was none other than Loki. She doubted that the name would mean anything to her daughter. Ever since his imprisonment, Asgard had intentionally erased the fallen prince's name from history. No one acknowledged his existence, apart from disguising his legacy in a local legend. Jane pushed her thoughts away upon catching her daughter's prying eyes.

"Is there more that he did not tell me?" Rosalie pressed.

"No," Jane sighed, reason ebbing away the guilt that weighed on her heart. She hated lying to Rosalie, but what good could the truth do? No one spoke of the fallen prince. Loki was nothing more than a distant memory, a tarnished one at that. "I wouldn't spend time dwelling on it, darling. Your father thinks too much of that legend. He was just trying to scare you."

"Perhaps," Rosalie frowned, returning her attention to her parchment, not at all convinced.

Jane's lips pressed together as she observed her daughter's reaction. It was clear that she desperately wished to know the full story behind the sorcerer's legacy. While the reigning Queen felt an obligation to tell her the truth, she also knew that Thor would greatly disapprove. The two had agreed to never speak Loki's name in the presence of their daughter. Not only would it bring up treacherous deeds of the past, but it would also expose Rosalie to truths that were better left unsaid. She did not need to be told that a member of her family had a dark heart. That he would like nothing more than to watch Asgard and all its inhabitants burn to the ground.

"How about we skip lessons for today?" Jane suggested, gauging that her daughter would not listen for the remainder of her lecture. Her mind was elsewhere, and so was Jane's.

"Are you sure, mother?" Rosalie questioned merely out of courtesy. Jane sensed that her daughter truly did not wish to continue, though she would if Jane insisted. She and Thor had taught her nothing if not manners.

"Yes, Rosalie," Jane smiled at her daughter, running her fingertips through the young girl's golden brown curls. "You have the rest of the day to yourself. Your father and I will see you at dinner."

With a thankful grin, Rosalie gathered her belongings and left the royal library. Jane watched her go with a loving gaze, though her thoughts lingered with her husband's troubling past. She could not imagine how it must feel to imprison someone she once considered family. Despite all the grievances, despite all he had done, no matter how many times Thor denied it, Loki was his brother.

With a harrowing sigh, Jane collected the various items she had been using to teach her daughter, and departed the library in search of her husband.

Thor was in the throne room when Jane found him. Having just released a demanding council with the nobles and warriors of Asgard, Thor was immensely pleased to see Jane. With the exception of Rosalie, she was the only one that could genuinely lift his spirits. Jane was his saving grace. She had remained by his side through all the hardships. She had even agreed to ruling by his side. Thor knew that this decision had not been an easy one for her. Jane avoided putting herself in positions of outright leadership and power. She preferred assuming roles of discrete influence. Yet, she had willingly supported Thor when he accepted the throne, knowing full well that her role would be just as demanding and trying as her husband's.

While a visit from his wife often entailed feelings of joy and comfort, Thor sensed that something troubled Jane as she approached him. Her eyes were not focused on him, her mouth drawn into a tight line, and she carried books and parchment tightly across her chest. When she reached Thor, she slammed her belongings upon the edge of an ornate table, and sighed deeply through her nose.

"You are upset," Thor noted, placing a protective hand on Jane's shoulder in tender comfort.

"No," Jane disagreed, shaking her head slightly, still refusing to meet Thor's gaze. "Upset is not the right word. Confused...maybe even perplexed, but not upset."

This admission drew the reigning king's interest. "You have my attention," he smirked lovingly at his wife. Past experience told him that once baited, Jane would stop at nothing to make Thor consider her point of view. It was a quality Thor found quite endearing. Even though intelligence drove her actions, Jane was stubborn and impulsive. Typically, he had an idea of what Jane wanted to discuss. However, in this moment, he had not a clue.

"You told Rosalie about Loki," Jane accused, finally meeting Thor's eyes. His blue eyes flickered in a battle of understanding, uncertainty and shame. "I'm not angry, Thor," Jane assured before her husband could speak. "It just proves what I've said all along." When a muddled expression crossed Thor's face, Jane lifted her hand to gently cup his face in her palm. "You care," she stated simply and delicately.

Thor found himself unable to deny it. In a way, he did care. Not a day passed that Thor did not dwell on what could have been, what he could have done differently to prevent Loki from traveling down a path of darkness and decay.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Jane continued when Thor did not speak. "You grew up with him. You share memories with him. Despite it all, he's still your brother."

"And it is because he is my brother that I can never allow him to escape," Thor concluded solemnly. He placed his hand over Jane's that still rested gently upon his cheek. "He harbors so much anger and resentment that he would destroy all I hold dear."

"How do you know that for sure, Thor?" Jane questioned, searching her husband's eyes for signs of sympathy. "You have not spoken to him in years. How can you be so certain?"

"I'm not," Thor admitted in an uncharacteristically feeble voice. "But it is not a risk I am willing to take. If something were to ever happen to you or Rosalie..." Thor could not even finish the thought.

"Hey," Jane spoke in a comforting and convincing tone that she knew would keep Thor's thoughts from turning dismal. "We're not going anywhere. You won't ever lose us."

Thor could not find the right words to respond, so he instead brought Jane forward in a secure embrace. Jane clasped her arms around Thor's torso, and settled her head against his chest.

"I did not tell her everything, Jane," Thor clarified in a strained voice.

"I know. You couldn't," Jane answered in understanding. "Rosalie is such an inquisitive child. She would not be able to let something like that go. It's for the best."

Thor allowed this mantra to overtake him. It's for the best. As much as he wanted to agree with this statement, he could not openly approve. Loki was far beyond saving, but what did that say of those the man had spent his early years with? In Thor's eyes, he had failed just as well as Loki. Thor had not been there for his brother when he needed him the most. What transpired in later years had only been a result of centuries of neglect and mistreatment. What made Thor believe that it could have ended any differently?

"I love you, Jane," Thor whispered so affectionately, trying in vain to suppress all feelings of guilt and affliction, though truly meaning what he said.

Pulling back slightly from her husband's embrace, Jane tilted her head up to flash him a cheeky grin.

"I know."

...

Rosalie lay in her bed, staring intently at the ceiling above her. It had been an hour since her mother and father had tucked her in to bed. She still had an hour at her disposal before she could execute her plan.

She was determined to find the sorcerer.

Ever since her father had told her of the mysterious man's existence, the legend was all she could think about. She had always felt drawn to the outer limits of Asgard. For the longest time, Rosalie had not a clue why she was so intrigued by this forbidden land. Now she knew. She was certain that this was the reason. An evil sorcerer remained imprisoned in an undisclosed area of the land. It was her destiny to locate this sorcerer. It had to be. No other explanation clarified her fascination with Asgard's outer limits. From a young age, she remembered questioning why the land was barren. How could a beautiful stretch of land remain neglected? Rosalie had never voiced her concerns. She had accepted the land's established vacancy as normal. Now, with this new revelation, she understood its significance.

The land housed a dangerous criminal.

Yet, despite this, Rosalie did not fear exceeding the city's limits. The sorcerer's legend did not lessen the appeal of the land. In fact, she found the land all the more captivating. How dangerous could the sorcerer truly be if he had yet to escape his prison?

While Rosalie waited for the time to come, she reviewed her plan over and over until she knew it by heart. Sneaking out of the palace was the easiest part of her plan. Rosalie knew every corridor, garden and hall that would lead her outside undetected. In the event of an unexpected obstacle, Rosalie would utilize a strength no one knew she possessed.

Magic.

Unbeknownst to her parents, Rosalie was magically gifted. She could still recall the first moment she had used magic. She had been scouring the royal library, as she often did, and could not reach a particular book. After wasting minutes trying to reach for it, she had crossed her arms and glared. Her intense desire to have the book in her hands had ignited a spark within her. Suddenly, the book had appeared in her hands. At first, the event terrified her. Yet, after a few hours, her curiosity extinguished any fear that remained. After sifting through multiple volumes of text forbidden to her, Rosalie concluded that she had tapped into a powerful source of magic. This magic, she soon learned, responded to her will. All she had to do was concentrate and undoubtedly believe that her desires would come to fruition. Her magic responded well to her emotions, especially when she was angry or desperate. According to her studies, this was a rare gift. Most that practiced magic spent years mastering even the smallest of tasks. To Rosalie, magic came naturally. The more vigorous enchantments took some time to grasp. Cloaking spells had taken Rosalie a full year to perform effectively. She still had yet to master teleportation. However, she figured that she had time on her side. Eventually, she would be able to perform any spell she desired.

As far as sneaking out of the palace was concerned, Rosalie would use a simple cloaking enchantment to shield her from sight. In the outside chance that her parents would come check on her, she also planned to create an illusion that would deceive others into believing that she remained sleeping in her bed. Once out of the palace, Rosalie would simply tread through the city until she reached Asgard's limits. She had debated bringing along a horse, but quickly concluded that it would attract too much attention, and perhaps become a liability. She instead would make the endeavor a three to four hour adventure. She imagined she would be exhausted come sunrise, but excitement of potentially locating the mysterious sorcerer proved more persistent than her concerns over lack of sleep.

When the time came, Rosalie executed her plan flawlessly. She commended herself on how believable the guise of her sleeping form appeared, and did not have a problem sweeping out of the palace. Every time Rosalie approached a guard or a servant, she merely hugged her cloak closer to her body, and strengthened her invisibility enchantment by focusing intensely on the idea of being inconspicuous and unstoppable. She had discovered early on that when using magic, it was important to focus on positive reinforcements versus focus on the negative possibilities. If she were to think only of staying invisible and harp on the thought of not getting caught, her enchantment would have immediately disappeared. Instead, she had developed a group of cue words to stop her thoughts from turning negative in the event of an emergency. Invincible, free, unstoppable, powerful, hidden, inconspicuous...

These were a few of the many cue words Rosalie referenced to in times of magical endeavors.

As expected, Rosalie made it to the inner city without conflict. Once out of the palace, however, she had to work harder to stay hidden. She stuck close to the shadows and abandoned alleyways, making sure to avoid pubs and gatherings of the nightlife. It took an entire hour for Rosalie to navigate her way to the outer limits of Asgard. When she arrived at the secluded land where the evil sorcerer supposedly dwelled, Rosalie was taken aback by the majesty of the land. Under the light of the stars, the vast expanse of land was hypnotically beautiful. Imagining that the land had lured her there like the song of a siren, Rosalie set out to locate the sorcerer's holding place.

It occurred to her after a few minutes of idly wandering that she didn't exactly know what she was looking for. A building? A cell? A cave? Surely it wasn't that simple. With a deep sigh, Rosalie decided that she would have better luck searching the rockier areas of the land versus scouring the plains. She took to the west, searching a promising stretch of rocky terrain for any sign of a holding cell. As she treaded through the jagged, sharp rocks that towered well above her head, an important thought struck her. What was she going to do if she found the sorcerer? Would she cower in the shadows just to get a glimpse of him? Or would she act boldly and confront him? She had not really considered what her intention was when embarking on this endeavor. It was undoubtedly an impulsive adventure.

"What am I doing?" Rosalie paused in her roaming, leaning against a wall of sandy rock.

Why is this so important to me? she pondered silently. Why do I care so much to find a man that my father fears?

Rosalie wrapped her cape close around her body as a chilling breeze swept over her. It only took her a few more moments to be reminded of the true reason she wished to find the sorcerer. Like herself, the sorcerer possessed magic. Rosalie had no one that she could discuss her abilities with. Though she was well aware that the sorcerer wielded dark magic, Rosalie still felt that he could pass along great knowledge. Whether or not he would be willing was another matter entirely.

With a soft sigh, Rosalie resumed her search. She concocted ways that the sorcerer might be concealed, designed to only be discovered by the keenest of minds. As she pondered the possibilities, she almost tripped over a deep hole directly in the middle of the path she took. Upon further examination, she saw that the hole in the ground wasn't a hole at all. It was an intricate impression of... Horns? Antlers?

Was it really that obvious? That simple?

With a determined scowl, Rosalie kneeled beside the carved impression, lightly running her fingers over edges. The carving was about the size of her palm. Could it be a lock that required a specific key? Was it triggered by magic? Rosalie instantly shook the thought away. In a realm that discouraged the use of magic, she doubted that entry into the sorcerer's prison would require wielding the abilities.

Yet, perhaps that was the point.

Narrowing her gaze on the peculiar horned impression, Rosalie channeled her magic and concentrated solely on opening the entry to a chamber she believed this lock concealed. She did not have a key, but she used her magic to forge one. Her magic probed at the edges of the impression, molding to fit the carving. She fiddled with the lock, turning it clockwise and counterclockwise until she felt the ground tremble beneath her feet. Just beyond the impression, the ground collapsed, revealing a descending set of stone stairs. She was not exactly certain which combination of turns had permitted the staircase to be revealed, but for the moment she felt too thrilled and accomplished to consider it for very long. With little thought, ignoring all the warnings that crossed her mind, Rosalie practically leap down the staircase, eager to confront the ominous entity that resided within the chamber's confines. She only felt concerns tug at her heart when the opening sealed rather abruptly behind her. Rosalie was submerged in darkness.

The young princess refused to move until her eyes adjusted to the dark. Her heart fluttered faster than a hummingbird's. Her breathing was shallow and quick. Though Rosalie felt rather anxious, she could not deny the excitement that coursed through her veins. Little by little, her vision cleared, and she was able to see a very faint light illuminating from deep within the expansive corridor. Rosalie carefully crept towards this faintly lit room in the distance. As her eyes traced the walls, an important thought occurred to her. If the alleged sorcerer really did reside in this underground channel, was there anyone or anything guarding him? As Rosalie continued onward, she sent out a series of probing waves from her palms, searching for signs of life in a process very similar to echolocation. She waited patiently for the surveillance encoded magic to return to her.

There was only one sign of life. Rosalie sensed a single soul no more than a hundred yards away from where she stood.

Rosalie felt herself pick up speed as she set about closing the gap between herself and the stranger she believed to be the evil sorcerer. She knew she should have been nervous, terrified even. Yet, Rosalie could do nothing to lessen the excitement that coursed violently through her small body. She was shaking, barely containing her apprehension. If the young princess had truly located the alleged sorcerer, Rosalie would regard this as her highest achievement. Mastery of spells did not hold a candle to this. Nothing could ever compare to this forbidden endeavor. Forbidden, indeed. Rosalie almost chuckled at the thought. If her parents knew where she was... the consequences would be disastrous. But there was no turning back now. She had reached the entrance.

Making sure that her cloaking enchantment still concealed her from sight, Rosalie took a tentative step into the light of the dimly lit chamber. What met her eyes was not expected.

On the far side of the room, there was a magic encoded cell with fiery veins of gold pulsing through the transparent walls. Even from her position, she could hear and even feel a low hum of energy that made the room appear as if it was alive. Though she knew very little about protective spells, Rosalie sensed that those who attempted to touch the cage's walls would be hurt quite grievously. Though this barrier intrigued her, it was not even remotely as captivating as the man locked within.

He was beautiful. Despite years of imprisonment, the man's pale skin illuminated like alabaster. Sharp cheekbones and a defined jaw complemented his thin lips. His hair was as black as a raven's, and fell slightly past his shoulders. Yet, Rosalie was mesmerized by the color of the sorcerer's eyes. At first glance, they appeared to shine an emerald green. As she approached the cell cautiously, the source of light shifted upon his eyes to reflect a deep blue green color. At the present moment, the man's eyes were trained on a weathered book as he lounged upon the cell's floor rather contentedly. The young princess was relieved to see the man in relatively good spirits, though she could not determine why she felt this way.

The closer Rosalie edged towards the magical cell, the easier it became to distinguish the fine details of the sorcerer's features. The faintest shadows of dark circles lingered beneath his eyes. Thin frown lines creased around his mouth. From a distance, his skin appeared radiant. At a closer look, it appeared more sallow and dull. Despite this, Rosalie found herself thinking that he wore these imperfections well. It all the more added to the man's mystery.

Rosalie now stood a few feet shy of the magical barrier. She studied the man through the gold veining of the cell. Though she had not the slightest idea what to do next, the young princess could not tear her gaze from the man. While trying to keep her breathing steady and quiet, Rosalie pondered her options in silence.

Though young Rosalie had never doubted her abilities, she could not believe that she had accomplished such a feat, especially on her first attempt. It was almost as if she was destined to meet this man. Rosalie did not rightly understand the concept of fate, but she felt in her heart that it was responsible for this moment. Despite this, she did not rightly know how to approach speaking to an evil sorcerer. Should she make her presence known? Or should she continue to observe him? The other less appealing alternative was to simply leave. Before Rosalie could even begin to select a course of action, something quite unexpected happened.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you?" The sorcerer questioned, not even diverting his gaze from the book he held. "Curiosity is a dangerous foe."