A blast of air picks me up, and I’m tumbling over and over through the sky. I’m shouting, my blonde hair whipping at my face. My brother is a few feet away, golden staff in hand, his face pale as we begin to fall. He screams, frightened, looking to me for aid, and I stretch my arm out. I just barely catch hold of the head of his scepter, two brothers connected by a single strand.
But we’re still going down.
I shut my eyes and bite my lip, obsessed with the pain. But then I feel fingers curling around my ankle, harshly cutting short our fall. I look up. My father kneels at the very end of the bridge, his hold on my boot keeping both me and my brother in safety for at least a few moments longer. I look down at the boy in pity, but he does not meet my eyes. Instead he turns his gaze past me. He’s shaking, eyes no longer cold with hate. “I could’ve done it father!” He calls out. “I could’ve done it! For you! For all of us.” I look up at my father, expecting him to pull the boy up, to hold him, to tell him everything will be alright. But he merely shakes his head.
“No.”
My brother’s face twists with emotion, tears slipping from his eyes, our father’s complete lack of acceptance tearing out his heart. His fingers begin to slip. “No,” I murmur. He looks to me now, but he has no hope left.
My chest clenches in anger as he loosens his grip a little more. “Brother, please!” I bark, my voice hoarse. He breathes in, giving me a sad smile. “Don’t,” I whisper, and he lets go.
“No!”
The scream erupts from my throat like an animal, a fierce howl of pain and betrayal. I stretch out my arm, but I know I can’t reach him, it’s too late, it’s too late,
he’s gone.
The darkness and cruelty of the sky has enveloped him. My brother, my only brother, the one I trusted, the one I loved.
he’s gone.
And all that I’m left with is his piercing blue eyes, invading my thoughts, my dreams,
my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so very sorry...
...Loki.”
But we’re still going down.
I shut my eyes and bite my lip, obsessed with the pain. But then I feel fingers curling around my ankle, harshly cutting short our fall. I look up. My father kneels at the very end of the bridge, his hold on my boot keeping both me and my brother in safety for at least a few moments longer. I look down at the boy in pity, but he does not meet my eyes. Instead he turns his gaze past me. He’s shaking, eyes no longer cold with hate. “I could’ve done it father!” He calls out. “I could’ve done it! For you! For all of us.” I look up at my father, expecting him to pull the boy up, to hold him, to tell him everything will be alright. But he merely shakes his head.
“No.”
My brother’s face twists with emotion, tears slipping from his eyes, our father’s complete lack of acceptance tearing out his heart. His fingers begin to slip. “No,” I murmur. He looks to me now, but he has no hope left.
My chest clenches in anger as he loosens his grip a little more. “Brother, please!” I bark, my voice hoarse. He breathes in, giving me a sad smile. “Don’t,” I whisper, and he lets go.
“No!”
The scream erupts from my throat like an animal, a fierce howl of pain and betrayal. I stretch out my arm, but I know I can’t reach him, it’s too late, it’s too late,
he’s gone.
The darkness and cruelty of the sky has enveloped him. My brother, my only brother, the one I trusted, the one I loved.
he’s gone.
And all that I’m left with is his piercing blue eyes, invading my thoughts, my dreams,
my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so very sorry...
...Loki.”