I always knew I was different. I could tell right from the start. And not just going by a gut feeling, no, I could tell I was different on the outside as well. I wasn't as strongly-built as Thor or Father, and neither my hair or facial features matched Father or Mother's. And through this, I had the constant sensation, like an annoying buzz in the back of my mind, that somehow, I didn't truly belong.

I always knew I was different. I just never would have guessed the truth would be so horrid.

The day I found out shall be forever scarred in my memory, both as a beacon of hope and a scar of fear for the monster I am. Mother was seeing Father privately in his throne room, but, me being me, I found a way to peek inside and listen in. They stood in silence for a while, staring each other down, then Mother spoke in a quiet whisper, "He has to know."

"No." Father practically growled. "It would not be right."

"Odin, he cannot live his life as a lie." She persisted. "He knows to some degree already that he is different. He must know, or else it will tear him apart from the inside."

He shook his head, saying, "Frigga, it would be heartless of me to bring this news to him. His people are those that I've always shunned and told him that they were an enemy. I do not wish this mentality upon him, or any of my people."

"Then I'll tell him for you. Loki is my son as much as yours, and he…"

I did not hear a word passed between them after that. I backed away from my hiding spot, and ran. I did not stop to see what exactly it was that I tipped over and sent clattering to the floor, nor check to see if the throne room doors opened like I thought. I kept running until I reached my chambers, where I collapsed in a tear-filled heap on my bed. I was normally very good at controlling my emotions of fear, sadness, and anger, but they all slipped from my grasp and drained so much energy that I do not even remember falling asleep.

I am not sure how long it was I slept, and the dream I had has all but faded; the only thing I remember from it was that I woke up n cold sweat, breathing heavily.

A soft hand brushed my forehead, and an equally soft voice spoke. "Be calm, my son. It was only a dream."

"No, it wasn't." I choked out, tears threatening to spill again. "It's real. I'm different from you or Father or Thor."

Mother knelt by my bedside and cradled my face with her hands, wiping away the tear that fell with her thumb. "That may be, but you're still my son, and I love you."

"But what am I, then?" I whispered. "Why did I have to be different?"

She remained silent for a moment, eyes filling with sorrow and dread, then spoke in an even softer whisper, "It's easier if I showed you. Come."

"Mother, why are we here…?"

She didn't reply as we began our decent down the stairs and down the hallway towards the Casket of Ancient Winters, a trophy Father had collected from a battle with the Jotuns a long time ago. Mother stopped in front of it, turning to me and saying, "Go up to the Casket, and touch it."

I slowly moved up towards it, the air slowly growing colder (though I barely noticed it). Reaching a shaking hand out, I touched it, but instantly recoiled my hand back from its freezing surface. I noticed then that my hand was completely blue, and a strange yet almost comforting numbness spread up my arm as I found myself touching the Casket again. The blue hue spread up my arm under my sleeve, and I could see my other hand begin to change color. The numbness traveled up my neck and around my face, and I could almost feel the marks on my skin slowly becoming more prominent, the blood-red eyes replacing my emerald ones.

I always knew I was different, but not like this. Not like this.

Mother and I shared a passing glance as the numbness faded and my skin changed back to its pale hue. I knew what I was now, and I knew why she had to tell me now. To not tell would be detrimental to myself had I lived most my life a lie, and bad things would surely follow.

She told me about how I was found when Father was retrieving the Casket, how he decided to take me in and raise me, and who my biological father was. She told me why I was never told this before, and how Father was still unsure about the results revelation.

I looked at my still-blue hands, allowing myself to speak. "…Mother, whatever you do, please make sure Thor doesn't know."

"Alright." Mother said in a low voice, placing a hand on my shoulder and guiding me away from the Casket. Her last words to me that night were, "Remember that I love you, Loki. Always remember."

I always knew I was different. Whether that's a good or bad thing, though, I've yet to see.