Page 60 of The Goddess is Angry
So, we spread stories to the mortals. A lot of them had end of the world prophesies attached to them because we thought the world not ending would be easier on the mortals than whatever violence they brought while they were adjusting to life outside the Aether. The man in front of me was attached to Ragnarok.
This one died thousands of years ago. He was beauty, light, and everyone loved him. I knew the god who arranged his death. It hurt the people it was meant to hurt, but if he’d known the god he had murdered was going to stay deadthislong, he might not have done it.
Shit. I needed to call his father. He was never the same after his death and his dad had the tools to restore his memories if the damned raven would do it without cryptic riddles.
He looked terrified, beaten down, and horribly confused. I got it. I was guessing after a certain point, he just blockedeverythingout in the Aether. He probably had no idea what happened or what he was when he was hurled back into his new vessel. He was surrounded by mortals, so he probably just assumed he was one.
I thought his magic could come back when he remembered who he was. Maybe his name would bring something back.
“Baldur?”
That was definitely Baldur, who my good friend Loki had killed, but he didn’t remember a damned thing.
And I didn’t know for sure if he was now a serial killer.
