Alex gritted his teeth, focusing on the small orb. It hovered in the center of the runes, steady but delicate, like a candle flame in the wind. Sweat beaded at his temple as the strain built.
"Keep your breathing calm," Frigga instructed softly, circling the table. "The weave follows your state of mind. If you lose balance, the light will break."
Alex forced himself to inhale slowly, then exhale. The orb steadied, its glow growing stronger, casting faint shadows across the chamber.
Frigga stopped behind him. "Good. Now—without breaking it—split the light into two."
Alex blinked. "Two? You didn't say there'd be extra credit."
"Focus," she said firmly, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
He sighed, then narrowed his eyes at the orb. He pictured the energy dividing, like pulling apart strands of thread. The orb wobbled, shrinking slightly, before splitting into two smaller orbs that floated side by side.
Alex smirked. "There. Two lights. Not bad, huh?"
Frigga's eyes softened with approval. "Not bad at all. You adapt quickly." Her voice lowered, more serious. "But now, hold them both."
That was harder. Keeping one orb steady had been tough, but two felt like holding water in both hands while trying not to spill. His jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed, and for a moment it seemed like both would collapse.
But then he remembered her words—don't force it. Balance. Calm.
He loosened his grip on the weave, letting it flow instead of pulling. The orbs steadied, glowing brighter.
Frigga's smile widened, genuine this time. "Excellent. You are not only learning, Alex—you are listening. That is the true first step."
Finally, the orbs flickered and faded, the strain too much. Alex slumped slightly, wiping his forehead. "Feels like I just ran five miles uphill."
Frigga touched his shoulder lightly. "Seidr drains more than muscle—it draws on your spirit. That is why even the strongest warriors cannot simply master it. But with practice, it will no longer exhaust you."
Alex gave a tired grin. "Good. Because if this is lesson two, I don't want to know what lesson ten looks like."
Frigga chuckled softly. "Lesson ten may surprise you. But for now—rest. Tomorrow, we test your control when the weave resists you."
The next morning, Alex returned to the rune chamber, feeling a mix of anticipation and fatigue. The circle of runestones was already arranged, pulsing faintly as if aware of his arrival.
Frigga stood by the table, her expression serious. "Today's lesson is about resistance. The weave is not always willing. Sometimes it resists your will, testing patience and focus. Your task is to maintain control even when it fights back."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Fights back? Sounds like it's got an attitude problem."
"It does," Frigga said calmly. "But it is not malice—it is the nature of Asgardian magic. Respect it, or it will humble you."
She gestured toward the stones. "Start by calling the light as before, but expect interference. The weave may pull away, break apart, or flicker unexpectedly. You will not fail if it resists, but you must adapt."
Alex placed his hand over the center stone and exhaled slowly. The familiar pull of energy brushed against him, but this time, it wasn't gentle. The threads jerked sharply, flickering in multiple directions, almost teasing him.
"Steady," Frigga reminded. "Do not try to force it. Feel it. Flow with it."
He focused, letting the weave tug at him, refusing to fight the resistance. Gradually, the threads of light began to stabilize, though still trembling. Alex extended his control outward, guiding the energy through the other runestones. Some pulses snapped back, forcing him to adjust instantly.
Hours passed like this—constant small battles with the resisting weave. Sweat ran down Alex's face, but he kept his focus, learning to anticipate the subtle tugs, the hesitation in the threads, and how to coax them rather than push.
By the afternoon, the runes glowed steadily under his guidance, the orbs of light holding their shapes despite subtle flickers and tugs. Frigga observed quietly, nodding in approval.
"Good," she said at last, voice calm but firm. "You are learning not only to shape the weave, but to listen to it. Most take years to reach this point. You have the ability—but remember, this is only the beginning. Resistance will always grow stronger before mastery."
Alex leaned back, exhausted but satisfied. "Feels like I just wrestled a storm and lived."
Frigga allowed a small smile. "And tomorrow, you will face it again, only more challenging. But you are ready to begin understanding control in true form."
Alex wiped his hands on his tunic and nodded. "Bring it on."
The chamber fell into quiet again, the runestones pulsing faintly as if acknowledging the progress of the Midgardian who was learning the secrets of Asgardian magic.
The next day, Alex returned once more, the early sunlight spilling through the high windows of the chamber. Frigga was already at the table, arranging the runestones in a more intricate pattern than before. Lines of energy shimmered faintly between them, forming a lattice that pulsed softly like a heartbeat.
"Today," Frigga said, her voice calm but sharp, "we go beyond simple control. You will learn to shape the weave into form—create something real from the threads of magic, not just light."
Alex's eyes widened as he surveyed the complex layout. "Like… make a shape? A thing?"
"Yes," Frigga confirmed. "The weave responds to your intent, not just your hands. You must imagine the result clearly before it will take shape. And remember—resistance will push back. The stronger the intention, the more the weave resists at first."
He stepped forward, fingers hovering above the stones, and closed his eyes. He let the energy wash over him, feeling the threads tug and swirl, some recoiling like shy animals, some stretching toward him eagerly. Slowly, he pictured the form in his mind: a simple sphere of light, solid and steady in the center of the lattice.
The threads jerked sharply at first, threatening to snap the delicate shape apart. Alex gritted his teeth, breathing steadily, letting the weave flow through him rather than trying to force it. He imagined the energy curling and weaving, binding together into the shape he wanted. Gradually, the sphere began to solidify, spinning faintly in place, glowing brighter.
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