In the days that followed, Asgard changed.
With ancient runes and All-Father magic, Odin wove an illusion over Loki, concealing the blue of Frost Giants beneath warm Asgardian skin. The spell was flawless—woven not to deceive, but to protect.
Only Odin and Frigga knew the truth.
When the magic was complete, Odin stood before the people of Asgard.
His voice thundered across the golden realm.
"Hear me, people of Asgard.
On this day, I name my sons—
Thor Odinson,
Loki Odinson,
and my youngest…
Alexander Ashborn Odinson."
The realm rejoiced.
Horns sounded.
Banners were raised.
The future of Asgard was announced to the Nine Realms.
The Feast
That night, the palace blazed with light and laughter.
The coronation feast filled the great hall—warriors boasting, nobles drinking, skalds singing of glory yet to come. Odin sat at the high table, Frigga beside him, the realm celebrating its princes.
Yet Frigga soon excused herself.
Cradling her youngest, she stepped out onto the balcony overlooking Asgard.
A Quiet Moment
The city stretched endlessly below—spires of gold, rivers of light, the hum of divine magic flowing through every stone.
Alexander stirred in her arms.
His molten-gold eyes opened slowly, curiosity shining within them.
He looked everywhere.
Up at the sky.
Down at the city.
Toward the distant stars beyond the Bifrost.
Frigga watched, amused.
"Such serious eyes," she whispered fondly. "As if everything is new to you."
Alexander yawned—wide and unrestrained—then blinked twice.
And promptly fell asleep again.
Frigga laughed softly.
"Exploring the Nine Realms is exhausting, hmm?"
She adjusted him closer, warmth and love wrapping around him.
Unseen Change
As Alexander slept, something subtle occurred.
Invisible to gods and runes alike, cosmic energy drifted toward him—not summoned, not controlled, merely accepted.
The power of the realm.
The light of the stars.
The ancient magic woven into Asgard itself.
All of it was drawn in passively, absorbed as naturally as breath.
Great Sage observed in silence.
Predator waited, dormant.
Alexander slept peacefully, unaware—
while the universe quietly acknowledged him.
Frigga gazed out over Asgard, smiling, unaware that the smallest prince in her arms was already changing the balance of fate.