Chapter 2: Future Franchise Speculation

Kratos entered his home on Midgard, tired from his latest journey. Freya was watching his back. Mimir was at his side.

We have reached a good point to take a rest, Kratos reminded himself. Odin was dead, the power of Asgard broken and scattered. The remnants of Asgard, all those he knew about at least, were destroyed. The Aesir who remained, those who had once served Odin, were all allied with Kratos, as far as Kratos knew. One vengeful remaining Aesir, Gna, was dead. The soldiers of Asgard allied with Gna were also dead, far as he knew. The Berserker Spirits wandering Midgard and other Realms were all defeated also, their power sealed within the hilt of a sword carried by Kratos. Various other Gods and Monsters that threatened Kratos and his allies had also been defeated. Kratos’ newest ally, the real Aesir God of Law and Peace Tyr, was rescued and safe under his own power. Kratos’ son Atreus was absent from his life now, however, that was fine. Atreus had his own tasks to accomplish, his own life to lead. Kratos had other allies, including Freya, his powerful friend and onetime foe, and Mimir, whom he and Freya both found of wise counsel. Mimir and Freya both seem content now, Kratos thought, regarding his friends. So, I too should be as content as I can.

Freya frowned when Kratos glanced at her, challenging his idea of her contentment. She shook her long dark brown hair and quickly looked away.

“What is the matter?” Kratos asked her, his deep Stoic voice echoing through his long black and tan beard.

“I...” Freya sighed, then turned back to him. “I am still thinking about Brok’s funeral.”

“Aye, I am as well,” Mimir agreed. Mimir’s severed head, which held the remnants of his essence after his death and resurrection, dangled from Kratos’ belt. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Kratos grunted to show that he concurred. He then looked around his home, deciding that his companions’ discontent was nothing to worry about at present. His home looked undisturbed since he had last left, except ... a strange package was on a table. Kratos moved towards the table and opened the package, then went through its contents. He smiled, seeing a letter in his son’s handwriting addressed to him.

“What is it?” Mimir asked from his belt.

“Mementos,” Kratos replied after taking time to look over the letter and the package’s other contents. “From Atreus’ journey.”

“What will you do with it?” Mimir asked, seeing Kratos gather the objects back inside the package.

“Add it to our own,” Kratos replied after a pause. “His story is ours. And ours is his.”

“Too right, brother,” said Mimir.

“I agree,” Freya chimed in from the home’s threshold. “May I...” She did not finish.

“Of course you may come inside,” Kratos told her, guessing what she could not say. Freya’s own home was denied to her now; she had upset Chaurli, her home’s caretaker. Fortunately, both Chaurli and Freya had other friends to be their caretakers. “You are welcome here.”

“Thank you.” Freya walked to a bed he indicated and lay down her bow and quiver of arrows beside it. She also laid down her large satchel of magical charms. She kept her black cloak on, shivering in the cold hut. Kratos grunted as he observed this and moved to stoke the fireplace. With a quick strike from the chained Blades of Chaos he wore on his wrist, the gathered logs burst into flame. Freya cast a magic Sigil to amplify and prolong the fire. Kratos grunted at her in thanks.

“Place me near that fire, brother,” Mimir bade Kratos. “I have reading to catch up on.” Kratos grunted, placed Mimir’s head near the fire, then placed an open book in front of Mimir. The severed head whispered a magic spell and smiled as various words in the book flashed bright and the pages began to turn on their own at appropriate times.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Kratos asked Mimir.

“From Hel’s Eagle,” Mimir answered. “It aids me, not having limbs. Go on, brother, relax. You have earned it.”

Kratos grunted to show he agreed and moved to lay down his weapons. The Blades were unfastened from his wrists, hung on a nearby hook. He also laid down the Leviathan Axe after looking at his bald head and stern features in its reflective surface. I do not need to shave my beard just yet, Kratos decided. I grew it after I moved into my new home. It grew longer after I met Fey, and after Atreus was born. I will keep it a while longer. Judging the fire was now warm enough, he cast off and put aside his bearskin cloak. His armor and shield he kept on for now. He also kept on his Draupnir ring, ready to summon its spears to aid him if necessary. Many Hel-Walkers and other enemies still roamed Midgard. There would be further threats yet.

Freya coughed politely and Kratos turned to face her. “Yes?”

“Is there a privy?” she asked. “I would ... freshen up.”

Kratos grunted. He did not often need to use the privy, but Fey had needed to use it more regularly when he lived with her. Atreus also often needed to use the privy, and Kratos supposed other people also had such needs. “Out back,” he directed Freya. “In the training area behind this home.”

“Thank you.”

“Perhaps you should...”

Freya smiled briefly at his obvious concern and tapped the two swords sheathed on her back. “I have these, and my magic. I will be fine.”

Kratos nodded and grunted again. He then turned away from Freya as she left, his gaze not lingering on her, and sat down at the table. He opened the package of mementoes from Atreus again, looking over the contents. He perused the letter again, smiling at various details he was now able to read in depth. Atreus was doing well, aided in his journey at various points by Angerboda, Fenrir, and Jormugandr. He also had been aided by Thrud, Thor’s daughter, and her fellow Valkyries. These allies were aiding Atreus in searching for the Jotnar. No Jotnar had been found yet, but Atreus retained hope.