Norway, 973 AD - Three Months After Freya's Loss
Winter had settled over the land like a burial shroud, the silence of snow matching the quiet that had fallen over the Mikaelson household. Where once there had been laughter and songs, now only whispers remained. The space where Freya should be felt like an open wound that refused to heal.
Magnus watched as his father threw himself into training with renewed fervor. Each morning, Mikael would drill him harder than before, his movements carrying an edge of desperate determination. Today was no different as they practiced in the pre-dawn light, their breaths forming clouds in the frigid air.
"Again," Mikael commanded, after Magnus executed a perfect series of sword forms. "Faster this time."
Magnus complied, his small body moving with lethal precision. He understood his father's drive - every moment spent training was a moment not spent drowning in grief. Every improvement was a step closer to being strong enough to challenge Dahlia.
From the doorway of their home, Esther watched her remaining children with haunted eyes. Baby Finn was bundled against her chest, but there was a distance in how she held him now, as if afraid to love him too deeply. The rift between her and Mikael had grown into an abyss, filled with unspoken accusations and bitter regret.
"Your form is perfect," Mikael said, finally calling a halt to their training. He reached for their customary gesture, clasping Magnus's forearm. As their foreheads touched, Magnus felt his father's slight tremor - the only weakness the proud warrior would allow himself to show.
"She is alive, Father," Magnus said softly, his violet eyes meeting Mikael's gaze. "And one day, we will find her."
Mikael's grip tightened slightly. "You speak with such certainty, my son."
"Because I am certain," Magnus replied, carefully measuring his words. "Dahlia wants her power, not her death. Which means there is always hope."
Later that day, Magnus found his mother alone in the storage room, sorting herbs with trembling hands. He watched her for a moment, the adult mind within him understanding her choices even as his heart condemned them.
"You knew," Esther said without turning. "Somehow, you knew what was coming. That's why you tried to stop me that night."
"Would you have listened if I had warned you directly?" Magnus asked, his young voice carrying centuries of weight.
Esther finally turned to face him, and for a moment, he saw past her guilt to the desperate young witch who had wanted nothing more than a family of her own. "You are not like other children, my firstborn. Sometimes I wonder..."
"What I am?" Magnus finished for her. "I am your son. I am Mikael's heir. I am Finn's brother and Freya's protector - even if I failed in that duty once."
"You cannot protect everyone, Magnus. Some fates are sealed before we even know to fight them."
"Perhaps," Magnus conceded, his violet eyes flashing. "But that won't stop me from trying. And it won't stop Father and me from finding her."
That evening, as Magnus sat with Finn near the hearth, he found himself teaching his young brother their father's gesture. Finn's small hands could barely grasp his forearm, but the meaning translated perfectly - love, protection, family.
"I will not fail you," Magnus whispered to his brother. "I swear it on everything I am and everything I will become."
From across the room, Mikael observed this interaction with complex emotions playing across his face. Pride in his eldest son's strength. Grief for his lost daughter. And something else - a growing suspicion about Magnus's true nature, about the ancient wisdom that seemed to live behind those unique violet eyes.
"He is special," Ayana, their neighbor and fellow witch, had told him just yesterday. "That one has old magic in his soul. Watch over him well, Mikael. He may be the salvation your family needs."
As the fire burned low and night settled over their home, Magnus maintained his vigil over what remained of his family. He had failed to prevent Freya's loss, but that failure had taught him valuable lessons. Patience. Preparation. The importance of power tempered by wisdom.
Next time, he would be ready.