The skies above Asgard were a pale blue dome streaked with thin clouds drifting like silk threads. The golden towers of Gladsheim rose high, their rune-carved walls gleaming under the mid-morning sun. Banners of deep red and black fluttered from their battlements, each one marked with Odin's triple-horned symbol in silver thread. The bridge of Bifröst shimmered faintly at the realm's edge, its fractured rainbow light curving down into distant mortal skies far below.
Inside the courtyards, laughter echoed.
"Thor, wait up!"
Small sandals slapped against polished flagstones as a boy with wild dark hair raced after a taller child. Thor, sturdy and golden-haired, swung a short wooden hammer in wide arcs as he ran, his deep laughter booming through the gardens.
"Too slow, Loki!" he shouted, spinning to face his friend with a grin, his young arms flexing with the easy strength he was born with. "You can't catch me even if you tried all day!"
