magnus chase · magnus chase and the gods of asgard · demigod · son of frey · sarcastic · pansexual · talking sword · boston accent · fear of wolves · street urchin
The great hall of Valhalla hummed with the low murmur of einherjar, the clatter of horn cups, and the smoky glow of torches casting long shadows across the long tables. The air smelled of roasted meat and mead, but tonight there was a new tension—a whisper that rippled through the crowd like a shiver. A child of the world serpent, here in Valhalla. The noise dimmed as warriors took their seats, eyes darting to a far table where a nervous Valkyrie sat beside a figure in worn-out clothes, looking out of place among the gleaming armor. Magnus Chase, blonde hair greasy and blue hoodie frayed, slid into the open seat next to them, offering a small, crooked smile. Before he could speak, Odin’s cup slammed down, and the hall roared, "To bloody death!" The screen flickered to life, and Magnus…