The black beast sits quietly at the edge of all things. He’s brought what’s left of his family here, and now he has to sit and watch over them. That makes sense, right? The norse man thinks so, but then again, what’s it ever mattered what he thinks? Frankly to the lot of them, it should matter. It matters to him what he thinks. Stately as he sits, though, and night falls around his shoulders like a thick cloak. Spring may keep the days warm, but she goes to sleep at night. Persephone was returning to her mother soon, and they were preparing for her arrival in the most fantastic way. Staring out over the valley, Odin figured he’s made the right choice.
Aphrodite disagrees, but then again, the child always did. She was something more than a child. Odin wasn’t sure what that something was, but he knew it was there. That was what mattered. Though she made his broad forehead ache, she was something special. As young a king as he was, the man knew what he was dealing with. With a soul as old as time itself he was allowed to. The king of the gods, sitting atop the rise that created this valley, watching carefully over it all. Beautiful.
Yes, this place had been the exact right place. He was in love with the very look of it, and with the setup that made his plans so easy. It would come to play in time, but Odin was leisurely about it as always. Couldn’t rush perfection, couldn’t rush the heavens, couldn’t rush the great black beast that sat and watched over the falling night and his pantheon inside it.
odin
guide of souls |