[OP Marvel] Ch: 9 [Midlife Crisis?!] (Patreon)

I left the house with no real destination and let my legs guide me. A quiet walk was supposed to clear my head. Instead, I wandered straight into the marketplace.

The place was packed. Merchants shouted prices. Warriors haggled over armor polish. Kids ran between stalls with wooden swords. It reminded me why I liked Asgard so much. Everything felt loud and alive in a way my old life never did.

I headed toward the clothing rows first. Most Asgardians preferred armor or training gear, but the merchants kept a small section for fabrics from the Nine Realms. I found a few shirts that actually fit me and a couple of comfortable pants. Then I saw a pair of boots that looked almost black-blue under the light. They felt sturdy and fit perfectly. I paid in gold right there.

Oh, some might wonder how I got the coins. I got enough Asgardian gold coins from selling a couple of weapons. Unique realm craftsmanship, plus effects the smiths here had never seen, turned into a mountain of coins for me.

I tossed everything into my inventory and kept walking.

Next stop was food. I went into a small bar that smelled like roasted meat and ale. I ordered something fast. Some kind of grilled beast I could not name. It tasted good. While eating, I saw a group of warriors arm wrestling at a corner table. Someone spotted me and shouted for me to join. I finished my plate, walked over, and sat down.

Five matches later, I had another thousand gold coins.

The last guy looked like he wanted to challenge me again, but his elbow was already shaking from the first round. I gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder and stood up.

I kept walking until I reached the wine shop. This place was quieter. The owner stood behind rows of bottles sealed with thick wax. I asked for the best they had. His eyes widened when I paid without blinking.

A crate of the finest wine went straight into my inventory. Five thousand gold coins gone in a heartbeat. Then I added a giant barrel of ale for another thousand.

Last stop was the barber. Asgard did not have electric clippers or fancy salons, but the barber knew his craft. He used a small enchanted blade that hummed softly near my ear. Hair fell in clean strands. The mirror showed someone who looked far more put together than he felt.

When he finished, I ran my fingers through my hair and nodded. Clean and simple. Better than before. And I kinda look good, if I say so myself. 

I paid and thanked him.

I walked out of the barber shop with cleaner hair and absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do with my life.

I had a house. I had more gold than I could spend. I had strength that could flatten buildings. I had peace. But none of it felt like anything. I kept waiting for some sense of direction to kick in, some inner compass to point at a goal, but there was nothing. Just quiet and empty.

Teaching Sif had helped. Training someone gave me structure and a reason to wake up with some purpose. But now that she kept avoiding me, that thin thread of meaning snapped and left me drifting again. 

Wait a minute! Oh my god! Is this what people call a midlife crisis?

Fuck! 

I leaned on a stone pillar and looked down at the marketplace crowd. People laughed, argued, bought, lived. They all looked like they knew what they were doing. I felt like a guest who had overstayed his welcome in a life he stumbled into by accident.

I sighed. "Alright. One more walk."

I turned away and headed toward the edge of the city where the witches kept their vast garden. It was a quiet place filled with runes, herbs, and strange plants from all nine realms. If anything could calm my head, it was that garden. 

When I stepped inside, cool air brushed against my face. The place smelled like earth, old magic, and blooming leaves. Trees bent gently in unnatural patterns. Stones hummed underfoot. It felt alive in a different way from the city.

As I moved deeper, a faint pulse rolled through the air. My Druid senses tugged at me like a thread pulling at my chest. I followed it until I found a single blue flower growing between two twisting roots.

The glow around it was soft but alive. It carried healing magic so pure it almost tasted cold in my mouth.

"You're interesting," I muttered.

While I crouched down to study it, footsteps approached. A woman with simple robes and dirt on her hands came into view. She looked like any gardener who spent her days trimming shrubs and harvesting herbs. 

Humm... She's different than anyone I've met before. Interesting. I think I know who she is.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said as she knelt beside me.

"Yeah. Strong healing aura. Almost feels like a mix of Yggdrasil sap and lunar magic."

Her eyes brightened. "Not many outside the witches can sense its aura."

We talked for a while. Nothing heavy. Just plants, enchantments, soil, and old magic. She told me the flower was rare, difficult to grow, and extremely valuable.

When the conversation ended, she plucked the flower and held it out to me.

"For you. Consider it a gift."

I blinked. "I can't take that for free."

"It is only a flower."

"No. That one is worth more than a small castle. I’ll give you something equal."

I reached into my inventory and took out an amulet. A simple disc of stone wrapped with silver wire. 

Her eyes widened as she took and examined it. "No. I cannot accept that. This is priceless. These charms are lost relics. Why would you give it away?"

"Because you need it," I said. "Not now. But one day, you will. Keep it with you. Always."

She looked at her hands. Then she looked at me. A slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth. The kind of smile that knew more than her current face should have known.

Light shimmered around her. Her form shifted. Robes faded into regal silk. A crown of gold settled on her hair. Power rolled off her like warm wind.

Frigga stood in front of me, the Allmother herself.

"When did you notice?" she asked.

"Since the start," I said. "Your aura is impossible to hide and I'm very sensitive to magic. Oh, and I wasn't joking. That's the amulet of resurrection. Always keep it with you and no, it won't work on anyone other than you. So, you can't give it away to someone."

She laughed softly and nodded in gratitude.

I took and slipped the blue flower into my inventory, bowed slightly, and turned to leave the garden without another word.

"Don't you want to know why Sif is avoiding you?" Frigga's words made me stop in my tracks.

I turned back to reply. "No. I don't want to hear it from you or from anyone else. I'm going to her house to ask her. We are friends. She'll tell me if she wants to or not." I squared my shoulders a bit. "Doesn't matter. I'm used to being alone. It's peaceful... And yeah, bye." 

I left the garden.

Fifteen minutes later, I reached Sif’s house. I knocked once but got no reply. So, I kinda scanned her house for her life force, but the place was empty. 

Alright. If not home, then the usual spots.

The training arena came next. I checked every corner and asked around a bit, but no one saw her this morning. 

Haaa... I rubbed the back of my neck. 

I left the arena and headed toward the mountain paths. The air grew colder the higher I climbed. I could've teleported there, but I'm in no hurry.

When I reached the mountain arena, the ground trembled with a heavy thud.

Then another.

And another.

I walked to the open gallery and saw her.

Sif stood in the center of the arena, her braid whipping in the wind, and she was holding her sword and shield. Opposite her towered a burly troll-like monster with gray skin, tusks, and arms thicker than tree trunks. It swung a chunk of jagged stone like a club.

Ah! Classic Sif. Always brawling her tension away. 

She dodged under the swing and slammed her shield against its ribs. The hit echoed across the mountainside. The troll staggered but did not drop.

Sif pushed forward.

Her movements were faster than the last time we trained together. 

She leapt forward, drove her knee into the troll's arm, and forced its guard open. The troll roared and swung downward with both hands. The stone weapon cracked the ground, inches from her boots.

Sif rolled aside and came up behind it. Her blade slashed across the back of its knee. The troll buckled and fell on one knee. She raised her sword and severed its head with a single slash. 

Purple blood spewed out from its neck like a geyser as the head rolled on the ground.

"HAAAA!!" Sif raised her sword and gave a loud victory yell. 

Everyone started shouting and cheering for her. I clapped a bit. I'm glad to see that she has improved within such a short time.

[A moment later] [Inside the resting area]

I was leaning on the wall as she walked in. 

Sif froze for a moment as she saw me. I could tell from her expression that she was planning on giving an excuse and running away. But not this time.

I blinked before her.

"So, can you please not run?" I said with a smile. "Talk to me. Why are you avoiding me? Like, I don't have many friends, and as you already know, I was out of human contact for years. So, if I did something wrong, tell me. If something's bugging you... you can talk to me. I feel like if we don't do this talk, then I'll think it's my fault and I'll regret not fixing it." I took a deep breath. "And I don't want to leave Asgard with regrets."

"Wait! You are leaving?" Sif asked with a surprised expression. 

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Next Chapter: The Frost Giants