Situated in one of the highest dimensions, even among the divine realms, there was a kingdom whose splendor few could compare to.
The realm was majestic and divine, covered by green mountains from the lush grass of enormous forests filled with animals larger than any beast ever seen by man.
But this was only the tip of the massive iceberg that was this kingdom: rivers the size of cities, vegetation rich with untouched species, and finally, a rainbow bridge that connected to it in a straight line. At the heart of the realm stood a city built from wealth, with a palace in its center that served as the throne of the king who ruled over this land. The city was adorned with houses and palaces made of gold and silver, libraries, statues, and gardens. Its streets were paved entirely with gold.
All this opulence had a reason, for this was Asgard, the eternal realm.
In one of the palace chambers, a woman lay on her bed. Her hair was silver, her eyes were blue, and her face was as beautiful as that of a goddess of love. Yet, this beautiful face was now crying out in pain, her anguish echoing throughout Asgard.
The All-Mother was giving birth.
"My queen, just a little more," said a masculine voice, holding the All-Mother's hand beside the bed.
It was a middle-aged man with a long beard and silver hair, wearing a golden eye patch over his right eye. He was dressed in a white tunic that covered his entire body.
"UUURGH!" the All-Mother cried again.
The midwife assisting with the birth delved her hands deeper into the queen's womb, causing more pain, yet the queen remained steadfast, engaging in a battle of strength. The midwife struggled to pull the baby, which seemed to resist.
But not even the child could outmatch the persistence of an Asgardian. After a struggle, the midwife carefully pulled the baby from the womb, blood staining the lower part of the bed.
"It's a boy, my queen!" the midwife exclaimed.
She conjured a white cloth, wrapping it around the baby and placing him in the arms of the mother, who was radiating with joy.
"He's beautiful. Odin, come see our son," said the All-Mother.
Odin approached the bed, gaining a full view of his son. The child had tiny strands of red hair on his head, emerald-green eyes, and emanated a warmth from his body.
"Yes, he is beautiful," said the All-Father, his single eye gleaming.
"He needs a name."
"Yes, a name worthy of his blood," Odin said, fixing his gaze on his son, observing the small soul within.
Minutes passed before the All-Father made his decision.
"His name shall be Váli Odinson!" Odin declared with authority, engraving the name into the depths of the child's soul.
He then handed the baby back to his mother and dismissed the midwife, leaving the two alone.
"So, my dear husband, what is the divinity of our son?" the queen asked, her voice faltering for a moment.
"Ah, Freyja, even though I know his divinity, I cannot reveal it—not yet, not until the right time," Odin replied, sitting beside the All-Mother.
"But why do I sense fear in my beloved queen?" he continued.
A sigh escaped Freyja, and she lowered her head, gazing more closely at her son.
"Even after so many eons, I still miss her. And seeing this child, I fear it might happen again," Freyja said, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Odin contemplated his wife's words, understanding her reasoning. His stern expression softened.
"Set these worries aside. No one would dare harm our son—not after what I've done," the All-Father said, tapping Freyja's forehead and releasing some of his power into her.
"This should be enough to heal you completely. Now you and the child must rest," Odin said, bidding farewell.
He rose and walked to the wall where a golden spear rested. Taking it, he headed to the room's door.
"I expect great things from you, my son," Odin said before leaving.