Aegir had no idea that Thor was currently drunk in some bar, cursing his name between shots of cheap whiskey.
Banished prematurely, Thor hadn't had the chance to meet Jane Foster, who would have come to New Mexico to measure atmospheric anomalies. That brief, intense romance was now impossible.
Without Jane to inspire him, Thor had failed to lift Mjolnir. Left directionless and bitter, he'd chosen to drown his sorrows in alcohol, leading to his current miserable existence of forced labor and dish-washing.
Compared to Thor's tragic circumstances, Aegir's situation was considerably better—though not exactly relaxing.
Above an endless expanse of water, Aegir harnessed the ocean's power, riding the waves northward with Skirnir standing beside him on the water's surface. Using divine power to travel across the sea was exhilarating—many times faster than any ship and far more exciting.
It also served as excellent practice, allowing him to exercise his abilities and increase his strength through constant use.
Aegir had already made plans. After dealing with the northern Rock Trolls, he'd use his temporal abilities to travel to different timeline for intensive training. Ability needed practice—without dedicated effort, even possessing a hundred powers would be useless if you couldn't unleash their full potential.
Enemies only needed to exploit a single weakness to deliver fatal blows. The most obvious example was Magneto versus Polaris—both controlled magnetic forces, but Magneto's constant practice and combat experience made him exponentially more powerful than his daughter, who'd never had the opportunity to truly develop her abilities.
Nozdormu's time power would let him spend as long as needed in other timeline and return to this exact moment. No awkward situations where he'd accidentally arrive in a parallel universe instead of his original timeline.
In Marvel, the past couldn't be easily changed through conventional time travel. Altering the past usually created a branched timeline—a parallel world where those changes existed, while the original timeline remained unchanged. Though there were exceptions to that rule.
For someone wanting to fix past regrets, that limitation didn't really matter—you could still make things right in at least one version of reality.
But Aegir didn't want half-measures or self-deception. When he made changes, he wanted them to stick in his timeline.
"Skirnir," Aegir said casually as they rode the waves, "what do you think of Amora?"
Skirnir was silent for a moment, clearly considering his words carefully. "Amora seems... capable. Talented. But I confess, I'm uncertain whether we should worry about Odin's schemes regarding her."
"So you do know there's a scheme," Aegir observed dryly. "Then why were you so eager to bring her here?"
"Despite the danger, she's genuinely a good candidate, isn't she?" Skirnir replied defensively. "And while her charm magic poses risks, Vanaheim isn't renowned for magic for nothing. We have countermeasures, safeguards. I thought the benefits outweighed the risks."
"Perhaps," Aegir allowed. "But we should remain cautious of Odin's intentions. If he truly had Vanaheim's best interests at heart, we wouldn't have been mired in civil war for three thousand years. We'd have been unified long ago with Asgard's support."
"You're right," Skirnir agreed, his expression darkening. "Odin wouldn't be generous enough to help establish a unified Vanaheim—not when a divided realm serves his interests better. Even with our peace agreement, he views us as a potential threat. After all, the Frost Giants of Jotunheim alone give him enough headaches."
The Frost Giants were the most fiercely rebellious faction in the Nine Realms, constantly resisting Asgardian authority. Even now, Odin lacked the power to truly subdue them.
Perhaps Laufey, King of Jotunheim, was individually weaker than Odin. But the Frost Giants' combat abilities rivaled Asgard's elite soldiers. The ice weapons they used could pierce Asgardian armor with ease.
And their numbers far exceeded what Asgard could match. A unified Jotunheim is a genuine threat.
Skirnir pondered this, then asked, "So you believe Odin is attempting his usual manipulations? Sowing discord to keep us weak?"
"Obviously," Aegir replied with sardonic amusement. "He wants us to fall back into internal struggles. Only a chaotic Vanaheim is easy to control and domineer over."
He paused, then added, "Amora's sister Lorelei, also called the Seductive Banshee. Six hundred years ago, she seduced numerous Asgardians through magical influence, attempting to stage a coup and seize power. The rebellion failed, and she's been imprisoned in Asgard's dungeon ever since."
"What?!" Skirnir's face went pale. "I... I didn't know that."
He'd known both sisters were proficient in charm magic, but the rebellion? Most of his knowledge about Asgard had frozen during the last war between their peoples. Since then, he'd been confined to Vanaheim's capital, guarding the realm's last glorious remnant and preventing rebels from capturing it. News from Asgard rarely reached him, and when it did, it was heavily filtered.
"I'm willing to bet," Aegir continued, "that Odin will send Lorelei here soon. Probably with some story about reuniting the sisters or offering her as an additional 'gift.'"
Skirnir's expression was troubled. "Then why did you give Amora authority to establish the magic corps? If she's that dangerous, if her sister is even worse—"
"Why not?" Aegir interrupted, his tone matter-of-fact. "Trust me, I can handle them for now. And despite their character flaws, they're genuine magical prodigies. What Vanaheim lacks most right now is talent—and they have abilities we desperately need."
Vanaheim needed fundamental change. Their priority now is the rapid development of military strength and technological advancement.
The Magic Legion was just the first step in Aegir's larger plan. Next, he'd approach the dwarven clans to secure weapon supply contracts. A visit to show the Dwarf King what happened to his people in certain timelines—showing him that Asgard doesn't have the ability to completely protect them.
Only by serving Vanaheim could the dwarves gain an additional protector, insurance against potential genocide.
With dwarf-forged weapons, Vanaheim's soldiers could be properly equipped. The improvement in combat effectiveness would also be immediate.
"But should we even allow Lorelei into Vanaheim?" Skirnir pressed. "That woman is extraordinarily dangerous. Her voice alone can enslave minds."
"Don't worry," Aegir said confidently. "Amora won't easily surrender the benefits and position I've given her. She'll keep Lorelei in line to protect her own interests. Still, I want you to assign operatives skilled in stealth to monitor both sisters."
"I'll see to it personally," Skirnir promised.
Aegir fully intended to reward those who worked faithfully for Vanaheim's benefit. However, anyone harboring treacherous thoughts would face consequences.
The easiest punishment? Temporal banishment—sending them to a timeline devoid of intelligent life, forcing them to endure complete isolation and loneliness.
With Lorelei's temperament and need for social manipulation, lasting even a hundred years in such exile would be a miracle. She'd break long before then.
As they talked, the landscape began changing. The warmer southern waters gave way to colder northern currents.