"Who were you just talking to?", Loki asked as he walked behind you.

All of a sudden his mood seemed so much brighter. Light and carefree, he walked beside you and let his gaze wander over the colourful fields of Vanaheim.

Smiling softly, you shook your head. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you gently urged him not to run headlong into danger.

"That was no one.", you said, and let your hand glide through the air to cast a silent spell.

Blue sparks rose from your splayed fingers. Like fireflies, the magic danced through the air, twinkling like stars in broad daylight, finally coming to rest on the lush green leaves of the colourful plants.

Ringing filled the air.

The flowers of this world were like living beings in their own right. Sometimes they were hostile but if you gave them a reason then they let everyone pass without spraying their poison.

Enchanted, Loki watched wide-eyed as you cast more spells to make your journey less dangerous.

"You don't seem to be afraid of the dangers of this land.", you said with a raised eyebrow.

Smirking, he shook his head.

"Father and I were here before. To help out Freya.", he said and dared to touch one of the flowers that your magic had put to sleep. "What is this? It's not a damaging spell."

You snipped two fingers.

The flower awoke, started to move.

With a sound of excitement, the boy raised his hand in an attempt to touch the pollen strings that grew out of the flowers purple goblet.

You stopped him by wrapping your hand around his fingers.

"You're about to make a terrible mistake.", you said, both in a teaching yet amused manner.

He looked at you from the corner of his eyes.

"Doesn't the spell make it harmless?", he asked.

You shook your head.

Not too many winters ago it had been you to ask this question. However, Tyr had not been kind enough from keeping you away from the flower. There was still a patch of skin that was scarred on your hand.

"The spell makes things sleepy.", you said and pointed with your eyes towards the blue shimmer that still covered the plant. "It can be cast on anything, plants, animals. Even gods. But it doesn't take away their natural characteristics. A spiked pig will continue to have spikes. A god will remain immortal. And poisonous plants..."

You gave him an expectant look.

"Will still remain poisonous.", Loki finished the sentence.

Satisfied, you nodded and let go of his hand, pushing him with gentle strength.

"We still have a long way to go. Attaboy."

Unimpressed, he shrugged his shoulders and walked on to be impressed once again by something extraordinary in this world. It was refreshing how easy it was to make life palatable to children. No matter what to show them, they saw something enjoyable in it.

"Soo...", he threw a glance over his shoulder as you cast another spell to make the hostile creatures fall vast asleep before they could engage the two of you in a fight. "What did Tyr teach you?"

You returned the glance with a smirk.

"That's not your question.", you said with a smile and crossed your arms behind your back, the the way your master had done it many winters ago.

He frowned, both confused and surprised.

"How did you guess?", he asked with a shy smirk.

Amused, you chuckled.

"Intuition."

"Did Tyr teach you that?"

"Yes. And no. Tyr was a master in sensing the gifts of the individual. He saw that I had a good sense of intuition and taught me how to weaponise it."

"But you don't fight. At least you seem to try and avoid it."

"Weapons don't have to cause a bleeding wound in order to be considered weapons.", you sighed. "My masters favourite thing to say. I used to think just like you."

He jumped down some rocks, stopped at the edge of a lake and looked around to find something he could use to cross the overgrown water.

"What changed?", he asked as he aimed for the branch of a tree to swing across.

You watched in silence as his feet left the ground.

Not a moment later, exactly what you expected happened.

The branch was not particularly strong and although Loki seemed to have hardly any meat on his ribs, he was still quite big and therefore also heavy.

A frightening creak filled the idyllic silence.

Hanging in the air, the boy realised that he had made a mistake.

The branch began to break.

Startled, he lost his footing. With eyes wide open, Loki chased towards the dirty water.

You snapped two of your fingers. And all at once he got stuck in the air.

"Woah!", he gasped, wriggling on all fours. "How do you do that? Magic without spells, I mean."

You whistled.

Raising an eyebrow, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, tilted your head and looked at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", you said teasingly.

"Yes, I do.", he shrugged.

"It is wise to keep his intentions hidden from the enemy.", with a gesture you commanded the magic to carry him to the other end of the lake before making your own way to him. "The Vanir were a people of magic. Freya was a powerful witch. But Odin saw through her. Do you know why?"

For a moment he frowned and thought.

"Freya told us that Odin had tricked her.", he finally said.

You sighed.

"Every god tells the story in such a way that he himself is the victim. Or stands in a better position."

"So Freya helped Odin?"

This question made you laugh.

"Oh no, she would never have done that. But there's something about her magic that makes it transparent."

His lips curled. Searching for an answer, his gaze wandered over the floor.

Then, all of a sudden, a spark seemed to light his eyes.

"She always calls for magic with words.", he said with a gleam.

You nodded.

"Very good. All Odin had to do was learn what her words meant. And then he could react quickly to stop the spell, your gaze darkened at the memory. Or turn it against her."