Even now, the All-Father continued to seek ways to avoid Ragnarok.
The prophecy's harbinger, Fimbulwinter, had already come to pass around 650 BCE. That unrelenting, frigid winter wiped out countless lives. Known as the Winter of Winds, the Winter of Swords, and the Winter of Wolves, it drained the stars of their warmth. The howling, ice-laden winds collapsed societal structures, leaving chaos and violence to spread unchecked. During that dark era, death was the only belief people clung to.
The prophecy had been fulfilled, and the web woven by the Norns—the sisters who governed fate—was tightening around Asgard. The number three held a mysterious power: three for fate, three for vengeance, and three for magic. The Norns, Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld, held supreme authority not just in Asgard but across the pantheon, even binding the mighty Zeus of Olympus with their threads of destiny. Known elsewhere as Atropos, Lachesis, and Clotho, the Norns wove the fates of all beings.
It was during this time that the increasingly powerful Hela, goddess of death, was cast into Helheim by a fearful Odin.
Now, Odin was offering Draupnir, the "Dripper," to entice Solomon into aiding him. The All-Father understood Solomon's essence and knew the catastrophic fallout of Ragnarok would inevitably drag Earth into its chaos. As such, Earth needed a steadfast ally in the Material Plane, and Asgard was irreplaceable in that role.
As a king, Odin was willing to do anything for his people, even offer a divine artifact and his own daughter to recruit this rising figure, Solomon, who had yet to step fully into the spotlight.
Though Solomon spent only a few moments pretending to deliberate, he ultimately decided to reject Draupnir and the Asgardian title. To preserve Odin's dignity, he feigned a struggle before humbly and tactfully declining the offer.
He wasn't foolish enough to agree. Accepting Odin's terms would mean fighting and bleeding for Asgard. Currently, Kamar-Taj's support for Thor was limited to ensuring his survival, which Odin clearly found unsatisfactory. Recruiting the Sorcerer Supreme's disciple to fight for Asgard would effectively deepen Kamar-Taj's commitment to Thor.
More significantly, Odin sought to secure Asgard's legacy. If Thor failed, it didn't matter—kings always had contingency plans. In the new world after Ragnarok, if Hela and Solomon bore a child, that immensely powerful offspring would undoubtedly inherit the Asgardian royal name.
What Odin couldn't accomplish, this child would. Asgard would ultimately unify the Nine Realms without shedding a drop of blood.
While Solomon hadn't considered the deeper layers of Odin's plan, his instincts—and his commitment to his witch companions—were enough to refuse the All-Father's offer outright.
Odin's face turned to stone, a layer of frost seemingly spreading across his visage. His gray, piercing eye fixed on Solomon. Without a word, the All-Father tossed a parchment filled with text to Solomon, then stood from the stump he had been sitting on. Leaning heavily on his staff, he trudged off toward the distant snow-capped mountains, his giant wolves following closely behind.
"He's always like this," Queen Frigga said softly, running her fingers through Solomon's hair with maternal affection. She was growing increasingly fond of the young sorcerer. "When things don't go his way, he sulks like a child. If you're not too busy, stay for lunch. He's gone off to brood in the mountains again anyway."
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I have other pressing matters," Solomon replied, politely declining Frigga's offer. The queen understood; she chalked it up to Solomon's youthful impatience and the time-bound perspective of mortals. Youth often meant recklessness and impulsivity, so she didn't hold it against him.
With Odin's decree in hand, Solomon returned to Kamar-Taj's New York Sanctum as quickly as possible. From there, he planned to use the portal to travel to Nidavellir, the fabled land of dwarves and their master craftsmen. Known as Svartalfheim to some, Nidavellir was Asgard's legendary forge world, where both unparalleled weapons and awe-inspiring works of art were created.
Solomon had to negotiate with the dwarves, as they were far too stubborn to simply obey Odin's decree. Besides, the armor Solomon envisioned wasn't ordinary—it would require extensive craftsmanship and innovation.
"You're saying what now?" Solomon asked, utterly incredulous.
The Sanctum's steward, Daniel the mage, sat in the guardian's chair, yawning as he spoke. He lazily tossed the Sanctum's chatty two-headed snake back into its potted plant enclosure.
"It's just a dimensional stowaway," Daniel said nonchalantly. "Asgard sent a communiqué asking us to watch out for an escaped fugitive." The mage looked exhausted, likely still recovering from the astronomical convergence that had demanded much of his energy. Being an older mage with no familial ties or heirs, Daniel had been unable to retire comfortably like the elders from magical families. For now, he continued to oversee the New York Sanctum.
He seemed unimpressed by this development. Were it not for Solomon's significant contributions to Kamar-Taj, Daniel might not have even bothered sharing the news. Running a hand through his thinning white hair, the tired steward explained further, "Don't worry about it. Dimensional breaches in the Material Plane are monitored by planetary defense systems. According to Asgard's report, the fugitive is a witch. All we have to do is stay alert."
"Are you serious, old man?"
"Ah, young people love to make a fuss over nothing," Daniel grumbled.
Solomon wanted nothing more than to march upstairs and pluck out the few remaining whiskers of this laid-back senior mage. But before he could, Daniel pulled something out of his pocket: a sealed envelope and a small, round, black kitten.
The kitten, evidently woken from a nap in Daniel's pocket, let out a soft meow, gazing up at Solomon with wide, curious eyes.
"This was left in the Sanctum's mailbox," Daniel said, handing the kitten and the deep black envelope to Solomon. "Your name was on it. Maybe someone's inviting you to a party. Don't worry, I checked; there's no surveillance magic on the envelope. But you really should stop coming and going through the front door so often. People are starting to notice."
Solomon opened the envelope, which at first seemed like an ordinary piece of copper-colored paper. But as he unfolded it, the invitation revealed its true nature: a piece of advanced technology.
A brilliant blue holographic projection appeared, displaying a familiar emblem. Moments later, a figure in the hologram extended an invitation to Solomon for a ball. They claimed to have an important object that rightfully belonged to him.
"Who sent it?" Daniel asked, his curiosity reignited. Whenever something unrelated to his work came up, Daniel's energy levels surged. Even the Sorcerer Supreme often had no words for him.
Solomon shot the old man a glare before returning his attention to the invitation. When the hologram ended, Solomon glanced at the kitten curled up in his hand, then at the text on the invitation. He quickly pieced together who the sender might be.
The tiny black kitten licked Solomon's palm before curling into a fluffy ball. It purred contentedly, seemingly trusting Solomon completely as it drifted back to sleep.
"I think it might be Bastet," Solomon finally said, closing the invitation. "Someone must have received a divine oracle."
Solomon showed the peacefully sleeping kitten to Daniel. Though small, its loud purring filled the room, even attracting the attention of the enchanted Cloak of Levitation, which hovered nearby in curiosity.
"This involves the Egyptian gods," Solomon concluded. "I need to discuss this with the Sorcerer Supreme."
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