I'm standing in the training hall of Asgard where Thor and his friends would spar often; what am I doing here? I never enjoyed combat training so why would I dream of it? I look around and see Thor there, swinging his fists at a training mannequin. But he is much younger now; only a teenager still, not even an adult – possibly 15 or 16? He is still muscular, but not even half the size he would be now. And not a screed of facial hair either; he kept himself well shaven up until he turned 22 or 23 perhaps, where he decided he'd stylise himself after father... Wait – I remember this! This exact moment; I was here too! But that means...

I erupt into laughter as I watch the mannequin come to life and start pounding my brother back; I have to hold my sides I'm laughing so much! Thor's face is completely shocked at what's happened and falls backwards from the onslaught of the doll, losing his nerve and unsure of what's happening. The mannequin then stops and my teenage self comes out from behind a rack of armaments, the same mirth running through him as through me a few moments ago; I was so happy and fun loving back then. Thor stands up and laughs his usual, bellowing laugh, clapping my younger self on the shoulder;

"Loki, always the trickster – such tricks may prove useful in combat someday! Perhaps you will not be a great warrior like me, but you will definitely be able to defend yourself – I am proud brother." With a big grin on his face, Thor then leaves the training room and I'm there by myself with... Myself? This is a memory though; I don't think he can see me... And I remember this all so well, how petty I was as a child, how little I valued the praise I was given. My younger self has that look on his face I've used on others so many times but never managed to glimpse myself and it is truly disconcerting; those menacing eyes and maniacal grin that send shivers down the spines of all my enemies... It is truly terrifying, even more now because I know the malice, the intent, behind it... I remember this day so well, how I'd taken such a compliment as insult; Thor had inadvertently made me feel like his shadow again, comparing his success and my failure at something so important to father – that we be fit warriors.

"Of course Thor, my brother! How could I possibly compare to your battle prowess when I can do THIS!" I watch on in horror as I see myself magically ripping each of the mannequin's limbs off like a puppeteer, pulling my arms up and dragging them all off simultaneously – the look of sheer hatred and anger on my face brings a tear to my eye as I pale at the sight of it. The limbs are then hurled across the room at the racks of armaments, most of which fall over and weapons clatter on the ground everywhere. The weapons on the floor start flying, one by one, towards the torso left on the stand, impaling themselves in it or smashing chunks out of it, and soon it's like a rain of blades until the stand falls over under the weight with a loud crash... And there I stand, arms limp, hunched over, sweat dripping from me, panting heavily at the loss of energy it cost me to do it... And still, I watch as I scream out, stretching my arms out and knocking everything around flying, embedding multiple weapons and pieces of armour in the walls, before I see myself collapse to the floor and start to weep softly... How childish and pathetic I was back then.

The room then shimmers and changes into Odin's throne room and my younger self is kneeling at his feet, head bowed, as Odin stands over me, berating my outburst in the training room and of all the damages caused. Not once am I praised for my exemplary power or skill as a magician; just vilified for my recklessness and disregard for property. After the scolding is done with I'm sent away, and I can see my eyes watering as I walk past myself - but I walk straight and steady, belying my actual feelings. I've left the room now, but I'm still here... This can't be a memory if I'm seeing it; I never saw this.

Then the doors open again and two women enter just as Odin sits himself down, holding his head in one hand in obvious exhaustion.

"Approach, Shield Maidens; why do you seek audience with your king?" Odin proclaims across the expanse of the room. The two maidens kneel at the steps to his throne before the older one, with grey streaks in her auburn hair, proclaims;

"We are here to request your blessing for another to join our ranks; she is of age, virginal and has a way with the ancient magics we have not seen since Freya herself – she learns the words and uses them as if they were her first language. We have brought her here to show you if you'll see her."

Odin makes a gesture with his hand for the guards to let her in, so they open the doors and young girl of about 14 walks in. She's short and a little dainty, probably just coming into womanhood as her chest is still relatively flat and she hasn't the womanly figure to fill out the simple white dress she wears – but she's pretty, with large grey eyes full of curiosity and curling fair hair the colour of sunlight. She looks a little nervous and is fidgeting with her hands in front of her, rubbing them together and pulling at her fingers. Her eyes dart towards each of the maidens before she approaches the throne and kneels down, bowing her head and not even looking up at the king;

"I am Sigyn, Allfather – daughter of no-one yet master of the ancient language and I humbly request your blessing as a shield maiden." With this she seems to shake a little, looks up at Odin and hesitantly stands up to face him – the maidens to either side of her flinch and I can see a fleeting panic skim across the one whose face I can see. Even I, a son of Odin, would not boldly stand as such in his presence without permission. "Odin Borson, I mean no disrespect to you or my elders, but I owe my life to the Shield Maiden's of Valhalla; I was abandoned on their doorstep as a baby and they have raised me as their own since. It would dishonour them if I were to do anything else but use their teachings and become a Valkyrie." Sigyn is clasping her hands together in front of her heart as she speaks, almost praying that he hears her plea.

Odin stands from his throne with staff in hand and walks down the few steps towards the girl, stopping only inches from her face. She awkwardly looks at his chest, panting heavily and afraid to meet his gaze.

"Leave us at once, all of you - I need to speak with Sigyn, daughter of none, for a moment in private..." And with that everyone but myself leaves the room; and Odin speaks again; "Heimdall, I require your presence here."

I stand there watching as Odin circles the young girl, taking in every detail of her as he looks her over – what is he looking for exactly? Or is he just looking; she's quite pretty now that I look closer myself. I'm even so bold as to take a few steps towards the 2 of them from the corner of the room I'm standing in, just to see her up close. Her eyes are like quicksilver, sparkling and melting into different shades of grey, a metallic whirlpool. They also appear older than she is; her eyes speak volumes, like she's seen more than any child should have to... They keep flitting about her as Odin walks around; she's trying to keep him in her sights - probably part of her training, though she's failing miserably. I can see her slight frame shivering under her dress, her arms are visibly shaking and she starts biting the corner of her lip. Just as I think she's about to melt into a puddle of nerves, Heimdall enters the room, walks straight up to Odin and drops to one knee before Odin speaks;

"Heimdall, you can see everything – both in space and time. Can you tell me this child's origins? She cannot remember herself but you can see into her past for her." Heimdall gives Odin a perplexed look before standing again and approaching the girl.

She seems more nervous than before, her hands splay out in front of her and I can hear the hesitancy in her voice; "Why is this necessary? Is my birthright so important? I will make a fine shield maiden, with or without parents..." Her voice is quivering, her eyes grow wide in panic; she doesn't know what's happening. Heimdall slowly brings a hand up to rest on her shoulder and smiles softly at her;

"All will be well, little one – this will not harm you. It will only play out the memories in your mind once again, including those you yourself have forgotten" Sigyn seems to calm a little and rests her arms by her sides. She gives a slight nod and smiles meekly at him, to which he grabs her other should and stares deep into her eyes. The molten metal seems to still, becoming like granite and she gasps lightly as Heimdall looks through her past until he finds what he needs to. After another moment or two, he lets go and smiles at the young girl before turning to Odin;

"Allfather, I could not find her father within her memories and I would need to look across all of time itself to find him – but I know who her mother is, personally. So do you; it is Freya, my king. Freya abandoned this poor child upon the steps of the Valhalla in the hopes the maidens would take her and raise her as their own, which they have done."

"Just as I'd thought – thank you Heimdall, you can return to the Bifrost." With that Heimdall bows deeply to Odin and nods to Sigyn before leaving. But Sigyn looks worse for wear and collapses, Odin catching her quickly as she passes out.

Just then the edges of the dream start to shimmer, but it's different this time... Sigyn and Odin remain in front of me but they're motionless, as if frozen in time. There is a rippling effect across all of my vision, as if the fabric of existence were liquid... And a person steps right through it to me before the rippling disappears and the events play on behind them. It's a woman, about 5'4", mercurial eyes and platinum tresses reaching down her back, wearing a silver breastplate over a short, white tunic and golden sandals. It is Sigyn.