Welcome to Gaia! ::

Word Count: 485

It wasn’t that he didn’t want anything to do with his Wonder. He didn’t avoid it because he disliked the idea of it or didn’t believe in its importance. Valhalla was glad he was a knight. He was glad he had the opportunity to help others in ways he never imagined possible. After all, not every kid grew up believing in magic.

He didn’t think he was bitter, although he could imagine his wife thought so, what with his disgruntled comments towards her fascination with her world. What did he have to be bitter about? His past life was not a person he had any interest in getting to know better. He was rude and brash and arrogant. Ganymede was different. She had a much deeper connection to her world and it showed through the way it repelled Chaos and healed her and gave her energy and strength. He did not envy her, nor did he wish he had that relationship with his Wonder.

Valhalla was a gloomy place with constant storms, wind and rain, lightning and thunder, winding corridors and crypts and mazes and strange eagle shaped doors. It did intrigue him how the fortress (for what else was he supposed to call it?) reacted to his touch, lighting the way with a strange, green glow, but other than that and his appreciation for the architecture of the place, there was little desire Valhalla had towards learning more.

He had been surprised when he learned of the existence of the ethereal looking eagle that responded to his commands. Sometimes he thought he could feel her energy (when did he learn she was female?) pulsing from within the pocket watch that bared the same symbol that Ganymede had on her forehead. The watch itself had been a gift from Liesel of course, but Serge had made it the bird’s home.

During their ordeal over the new year, Valhalla had sent the pocket watch to Ganymede without even thinking of the eagle’s potential usefulness. Although maybe it was because he knew he would not have fared very well had he unleashed her. Surely the Negaverse would have decided that he was too much of a liability to deal with. He may not have been able to escape with only some scars to physically remind him of what they went through. It was only when he received Ganymede’s brooch in return did he realize the irony in returning the watch to her and the brooch to him. Maybe Ganymede had done that on purpose, her memories of the past much more clear than his own.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want anything to do with his Wonder. He just didn’t think there was anything for him to learn that he would be happy to find out. Ignorance was bliss, wasn’t it…?

Or maybe he was really bound to his Wonder and the past more than he knew.

Word Count: 1247

It was raining, but that was not what surprised Valhalla upon arriving at his Wonder. There always seemed to be a storm raging; if not, one was on the horizon. He wondered if that was just Jupiter’s nature or if the location for the fortress was chosen specifically for its dismal weather. What surprised him was that the room he appeared in was a giant egg-shaped dome, the colored blocks of glass illuminating the interior whenever the lightning flashed outside.

While it was almost disconcerting to be in a room domed almost completely in (hopefully very thick) glass, his concern was overtaken by awe at the place. The only way he could describe it would be an atrium. Standing several stories high, but still not tall enough to reach the ceiling of the dome were trees that spread their branches out comfortably, absorbing the multicolored light that flashed on them. There were three large trees in total, with roots that rose up from the ground near their base. Their branches were decorated with strings of garland, and although most of the decorations had deteriorated and fallen to the soil below, he could still get a good idea of what they should have looked like at their peak.

In the center of the atrium was a fountain raised up, high on a hill of what once must have been grass. He approached the fountain first, slowly making his way up the flight of steps which gave him a good look at his surroundings. There was no water that flowed from the fountain, and the dust that had collected indicated many hundred years of disuse. From the center fountain there were channels for water to flow. The channels from the fountain left the hill near the top, following pathways and bridges erected not just for the flow of water, but for walking along as well. Some of the paths wove around the trees, leading towards the edge of the dome where there were raised walls for what he could only assume would be for planting. The walkways dipped down a little as the water channels continued along the walls to deliver water as needed.

Everything in the planters on the higher levels seemed to be dried up. There were still areas for growth beneath that seemed to be fairing a little better, but mostly it was overgrown with dead and dried up flora. It was a little sad to see, because the place must have once been rather impressive. He had wondered how anything could have grown on Jupiter with the weather being as it was, but it looked as though the residents of Valhalla got by just fine. If anything, he was most surprised about the beauty and the architecture and the fact that there was still life in the otherwise depressing place.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Someone walking along the pathway by the wall, staring up at the trees. He was young, no more than sixteen or seventeen. Valhalla knew who he was immediately, as he’d seen him before. Serge, the previous guardian of Valhalla, always seemed so serious, like there was nothing that made him happy in his life. It was pitiful, really. Valhalla did not know the circumstances behind Serge coming into his power, but as someone who had so many opportunities in front of him, he had every chance to make things better for himself. Or at least what he assumed. He knew enough about Serge to know that he didn’t like him.

Still, Valhalla watched curiously as Serge made his way around the dome. Slowly. Patiently. Often staring up at something in the trees, but other times lowering his eyes to the plant-life in full bloom beside him. Valhalla could not see anything for himself. Whatever Serge was looking at was either well hidden or Serge was just looking at the trees in general. Serge paused for a few moments and reached down to a pouch he had attached to his belt. Valhalla couldn’t see what he was holding as he was too far away, but something seemed to rustle in the tree above and some kind of bird flew down to a lower branch. It seemed hesitant to approach, but at the same time curious about the boy named Serge.

For someone so harsh and serious, Valhalla was surprised to see a softer expression on the boy with the dark brown hair and olive colored eyes. It was the first time he’d seen Serge smile, or show as close of a smile as the boy seemed capable of. He reached out his hand to the bird, who continued to sway hesitantly on the branch, before finally leaving its perch to fly down to him. It didn’t land on his arm, but instead flew around him as if still wary of his presence. Serge stood still, even as the bird’s wings clipped his face, or talons reached out to curiously pluck at his clothing. There was patience that Valhalla had not expected from his past self, and watched in amazement as the bird finally settled down on Serge’s arm to peck out whatever he was holding. It remained there for a few moments before taking off again into the trees, but it seemed as though that was all Serge wanted, for he lowered his hand and took a step back to withdraw.

How long had Serge been working towards that brief interaction? To gain the trust of an animal like that…? But it wasn’t just any animal, was it?

Curiously, Valhalla reached down to the pocket watch at his side and lifted it up to inspect it. The watch itself had been a gift from Liesel, and a small portrait of him was revealed when the watch was opened. But the inside of the watch itself had been tinkered with by Serge. He’d seen Serge do it in one of his previous memories, but he’d been older at that point. Now, he didn’t know if Serge had even met Liesel yet. The hands of the watch looked different than the rest of the piece, and the gem placed inside glowed green.

With just a thought, Valkyrie was released from her tiny prison and she soared into the atrium with a somewhat disgruntled cry, as if she’d been waiting for him to finally let her out. Valhalla knew he should have realized it was the same bird, but the Valkyrie he knew seemed a bit older than the fledgling that Serge was trying to gain the trust. It was strange for him to see that they had obviously had the time to bond, while he probably took Valkyrie for granted.

He held out his arm for her as he’d seen Serge do, although he did not have anything to offer her in return, but after a few moments of stretching her wings, she soared down to perch on his shoulder. It didn’t seem fair that Serge obviously worked so hard to gain her trust when he was obviously benefiting from that effort, but he was grateful. There were a lot of things Serge had to do that he didn’t really have to experience. On top of that, he’d been brought from Earth to live in a place so far away from anyone he’d ever known. Maybe he wasn’t giving Serge enough credit. Although it would be easier if he didn’t seem so distant all the time.