Sif rolled back over and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling as she sank into memories. It was clearly only a few hundred years ago, yet she already found herself unable to recall it clearly. The Four brave men of Xiangong, Thor, and Loki had grown up together; you could say they were the people who understood one another best.
The Four brave men of Xiangong had also witnessed Odin's education of the two Princes from start to finish. It was just that most of the time, they were inside the situation: in the troubles Thor and Loki caused and the achievements they earned, they all had their share, so they had never stepped outside that vantage point to examine the Father of All Gods' level of education.
After Helen arrived, she was always together with Loki; Thor and Sif did not take a deep part in her growth. Besides, Helen was not the same as ordinary children. The Unique evolutionary gift of Doomsday made her the greatest prodigy in the entire cosmos—whatever she learned, she mastered in an instant—so family education did not leave many marks on her.
But now, Sif was pregnant. Although there was still a long time before the child would be born, they were about to truly become parents, so they could not avoid thinking about a question, and that was education.
How exactly does one be a good parent? This is the eternal question for every Race with normal reproductive capability, and there has never been a definite answer. Those seemingly impeccable standard replies—such as tolerance and love, a balance of strictness and leniency, focusing on the matter rather than the person—are all too general.
People's ways of education usually still come from the previous generation's words and deeds. Even though many people realize that their parents once did things wrong and decide not to pass those errors down, wanting to end intergenerational trauma with themselves, in practice it is not so easy.
Because sometimes, what education values is not right or wrong, but proportion. When a child does something right, the key is not praise itself but the manner and degree of praise. When a child does something wrong, of course they must be disciplined, and it is the method and force of that discipline that matters most.
Education often reveals its true quality precisely in these details. Unfortunately, for ordinary people, merely grasping right and wrong in the overall direction, never missing a single chance to praise, and never letting slip any opportunity to discipline is already very difficult. Those who can do this already count as good parents; to improve the details further requires not just taking education seriously, but raising one's own capabilities and personal qualities.
You yourself must already be someone extremely good at judging the proper measure, someone whose socialization is excellent and who can resolve problems through social interaction, to have any chance of perfectly mastering proportion when educating a child.
If your own socialization is not that good, you will feel lost when it comes to education. If you have no way to handle everything perfectly when a colleague or superior makes a mistake, making everyone satisfied, then naturally you will have no way, when your child makes a mistake, to produce a solution that satisfies yourself, the child, and other family members. This is not a matter of not valuing education, but of limited ability.
Looked at this way, there are no perfect educators in the world, because no one can satisfy everyone, and no one has an obligation to satisfy everyone. So how can one become a good parent in the eyes of oneself, one's children, and others? Perhaps Thor's evaluation of Odin is the best answer.
"We only feel that he already did his best" may be the highest praise there is for a parent. This means that, on the one hand, they can understand that parents are independent people too, and as long as one is Human race one has joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, has selfishness and can lose control. They keenly perceive their parents' difficulties and decide to be tolerant and understanding.
On the other hand, they have seen their parents' efforts and believe that within the scope of their abilities they have already done their utmost; at the very least, they have felt their parents' love for them.
Both aspects show that the child can fully Empathy with their parents. Whether it is the parts they did poorly or the parts they did well, the child sees and accepts them. For education, this is already the best outcome.
And this is indeed the case: when Sif began to think about how she herself would act as a parent, she realized just how well Odin had handled things back then. And when she saw the Thor and Loki of this cosmos, she became even more certain that her loyalty and following toward the Father of All Gods were not misplaced. Odin was not only a wise King, but also a good father.
Sif remembered very clearly that every time Odin made a pre-war mobilization or a post-war summary, whenever he spoke of "the heir," he was always referring to Thor. He called him "the future of Asgard," "the bearer of Aesir honor," "the next King."
In these settings, Thor was forever the Protagonist and star. Odin would repeatedly mention him in front of all the Generals, praising him, keeping him perpetually at the center of the crowd, making him the most dazzling one.
As for Loki, you could not say that the treatment he received was bad; it was just that his level of treatment was about the same as the Four brave men of Xiangong. If he did well, Odin would reward him; if he did poorly, he would be spared certain punishments by virtue of his identity as Prince, but he would indeed be marginalized, at the very least ignored.
On the surface this seems unfair: Odin poured everything into Thor. From the moment Thor learned to walk, he kept him by his side, teaching him how to march and wage war, how to arrange strategy and tactics, how to give orders, how to inspire morale. Afterwards as well, he did everything in his power to lift him up, leaving him only one step away from the position of Divine King.
But Loki was always the one being overlooked. He rarely went to learn anything about warfare; instead, he spent huge amounts of time following Frigga to study Magic, reading all kinds of troubadours' miscellanies, researching Asgard's aesthetics and arts. Even when he went on campaign with the army, most of the time he wouldn't go to the front lines. Even if Thor brought him along, at most he'd do some intelligence gathering, or run errands delivering messages.
In this respect, the way the two of them were treated was worlds apart. So Sif can't say she completely fails to understand Loki's little temper—how he often likes to go against his brother, and laughs on the sidelines when his brother makes a fool of himself. It may just be a kind of compensation psychology.
But now, standing from the perspective of a prospective parent, Sif can already somewhat understand why Odin did what he did. As she keeps saying, there is only one throne; Asgard can only have one Divine King, the Nine Major Kingdoms can only have one master. This is something that cannot be changed.
With this premise, Odin has more than enough reason to choose Thor—or rather, he simply cannot choose Loki. Set aside the usual "the elder comes first" and so on; the most basic quality of an heir is physical health. In this kind of Military State civilization, physical fitness is an even more important criterion. Loki's innate physical condition already determines that he doesn't even reach the threshold to be an heir; the only one who can be cultivated is Thor.
Based on the above facts, Odin made the wisest decision: to put all his efforts into grooming Thor, while letting Loki become marginalized.
Plenty of parents think very well through the earlier stages, but the moment they reach this step, they walk straight into a common trap: "The eldest has already inherited the family business, so I must compensate the younger son more in other aspects," and then they start to excessively dote on the younger son who cannot inherit.
Odin completely avoided this mistake. Loki being closer to Frigga is purely because Odin doesn't take him to the battlefield much; he spends more time left at home, and then follows Frigga to learn Magic. The two of them spend a long time together, so they're relatively close—not because the parents each favor one child, with Dad biased toward the eldest and Mom biased toward the younger.
In fact, both Odin and Frigga value Thor more, spending a huge amount of time and energy to cultivate him into a qualified heir, while neglecting Loki somewhat. Regular care and concern they do provide, but beyond that, there's no special treatment.
And this not only fails to tear the family apart due to favoritism; instead, it produces a situation that you could say is entirely within expectations—namely, that the one in this family who's most biased toward Loki is Thor.
Odin doesn't take Loki to war, so Thor drags him along every day. Even when Loki causes trouble for him, he doesn't care. Asgardians don't like Loki; Thor doesn't give a damn, he just hangs out with his little brother every day. The only Second Prince Faction in Asgard is the Prince himself.
It wasn't until she came to this cosmos that Sif realized: if Odin hadn't made this wise choice, things very likely would have rushed off in another direction entirely, until they plunged into the Abyss.
Look at this cosmos. First of all, Odin's main approach toward Thor is suppression and control. Leaving aside everything else, the way Odin interferes in Thor's love life gives Thor not the slightest shred of dignity.
There are indeed all sorts of issues when an Immortal Species and a short-lived species fall in love. Foster may very well not be a good candidate for Queen of Gods. But there are ten thousand better, more dignified ways to deal with the matter, instead of making it a public spectacle, flying into a rage, and in the end even resorting to finding a third party to sabotage their relationship—such an absurd move.
Sif can't make sense of it either: even if marrying a Human woman would indeed shake Thor's prestige, turning the whole thing into public gossip so that the entire Nine Major Kingdoms know Thor is an incompetent man who can't handle his own emotional problems—how could that possibly be good for his reputation?
Take a step back again: Humans live at most a hundred years. As long as Odin outlives that hundred years and doesn't abdicate, doesn't pass the throne to Thor, doesn't let Foster enter Asgard, and just lets the two of them date on Earth—once Foster dies, wouldn't the whole headache be gone?
This decision simply doesn't stem from considerations of interest; it's entirely Odin's need for control flaring up. He just wants Thor to follow the perfect heir's route he has laid down. If Thor deviates even slightly from that route, Odin can't stand it and must force him back. In the end it inevitably turns into that kind of tantrum—"How dare you oppose me for her"—and may even lead to the slanderous mindset of "A son who doesn't obey me might as well not exist."
As for Loki, whether it's some kind of compensation psychology or simply because Odin doesn't value him, he's left to his own devices. Loki can poke a hole in the sky and Odin doesn't care—neither restraining nor educating him, just letting him run wild.
And Odin puts on a kind of superficial fairness, something like "the throne should go to whoever is capable," while completely ignoring actual circumstances—for example Loki's Race, his physical condition, his way of doing things. For Loki's repeated coups and rebellions, he doesn't even bother to posture with a high-handed show; he just directly lets it slide.
Yes, while Thor is busy fighting with Odin over his love affair, Loki has staged multiple coups, forcing Odin to divert energy to deal with him. But all Odin ever does is apply a bit of pressure; never mind stripping him of his Prince title or banishing him, he doesn't even confine him. He just lets Loki go out and play again. At that time, Loki could fairly be called the best-treated rebel in the entire cosmos.