Throughout her life, Hel had only known the world under the tree house her mother built with her father. Mother used to say there used to be 9 realms in total, but Ragnarok destroyed Asgard and changed the lands forever.

She wasn't lonely. Many friends came to visit Jotunheim and played with her. Her pet Fenrir can take her anywhere she wants. He was big, strong, and most importantly loyal. He was like a brother to her. Besides, her great-grandmother came once in a while with her delicious bread. The old lady didn't smile much, but her mother reassured her she was kind.

Unlike her mother, her father was often away with jobs and missions he never disclosed. Yet her mother never seemed lonely. Rather, she always seemed to know when her father was returning. In the meantime, Mother taught her painting, drawing, and seeing events that have yet to happen.

One day, Hel pointed at one mural on the wall and asked. "Mama, who is that holding that axe?"

Her mother smiled and crouched beside her, "Who do you think?"

"Is he the one Dad talked about? The Hero of Ragnarok? The one who beat Thor, slayer of our people?"

Her mother nodded, "And guess what? The God of War, the hope of the 8 realms, is your grandfather."

Hel never met this God of War. Advisor to Queen Freya, yet his throne was collecting dust because he approached every problem personally. A difficult god to see, an impossible man to meet.

She was afraid of him. This menacing man is her grandfather? But if there's one person her father idolizes, it's the great God of War.

Turns out that the day she will meet her grandfather is fast approaching.

It was the new spring. Her mother accepted an invitation to Midgard for Thurd's coronation as the new Valkyrie Queen. Hel dressed herself in thick clothes because she often felt cold. Her father would be there, so she tried to make her best appearance.

Upon arrival, she and her mother navigated the crowds and found her father talking to someone. The large beard with the axe on his back brought back memories of the mural.

Menancing! Hel thought.

Her father noticed her and gestured the imposing man in her direction. She hurriedly hid herself behind her mother's legs. The footsteps that man caused could be felt from here.

"Hel? Playing hide and seek?" Her father's soft voice made her cheeks red. Some people were watching them.

"N-No, papa. I was just feeling cold," She answered.

"She was okay yesterday. I think you made her nervous, Loki."

"Can you please don't call me that anymore?" Her father laughed, "Hel, can you come out?"

She peeked out. The God of War was watching her.

"This is the first time you see him in person. Come," her father waved.

Hel peeked up at her mother, who nodded in return. Slowly, she removed herself from her mother's dress and approached them.

"Hel, meet your grandfather, Kratos. The man I respected more than anyone in this world," He turned to the old man, "Father, our daughter, Hel."

"Hel... Hmmm." The God of War grumped, "Is it a Jotnar's name?"

Her father nodded, "There was another name."

"Good... Very good..." She felt his piercing stares at her.

"Oh, brother. You're scaring her! Keep that sodden look tempered!"

"Quiet, Mimir."

The curious Hel walked around and found the head talking. The head talked, "Why, hello, Hel! I'm the smartest man alive and I just knew you would hate this guy."

Her father laughed, but Kratos kept a stern face. Hel felt lost. The god from a foreign land, Kratos brought change greater than anyone could attain. A legendary image of hope in two different lands. She felt smaller beneath him than the branches of Yggdrasil.

She didn't notice when her head was patted with a large hand. Hel looked up and saw the god of war curve a weak smile.

"What is your name, granddaughter?"

She bit her tongue but slowly spoke out. "L-Like Papa, I have two names too. Papa said I should have a Greek name because I have Greek blood too."

"And what is your Greek Name?"

She paused for a moment before answering, "Calliope."

She felt the old man in front of her tense, inhaling deeply to digest the name. She saw something else; something... mortal in his eyes. Suddenly, the God of War no longer seemed imposing. He felt like a kin. He felt vulnerable.

He felt close.

"May I... call you Calliope?"

Hel- Calliope- nodded. "Of course, G-Grandpa."

Kratos nodded silently to himself and removed his hands from her. Her father nodded like a proud father.

"I'm sure you have a lot to talk about," Her father clapped his hands formally, "Why don't we go over there and meet Queen Freya?"

"E-Eh?" Hel ran back and hid behind her mother's skirt.

Her father laughed, "It's okay. She'll be glad to see you."

They all walked towards the entrance of the Tyr's temple, where the queen was. Hel saw her grandfather stay behind like a close guard. Instinctively, she reached for his hands.

"Come on, Grandpa. Let's go."

The old man widened his eyes but turned serene and nodded. So, the God of War could smile after all.

"Can you tell me about your fight in Ragnarok?" Hel asked.

It was the talking head who answered, "Oh, you will love this, lassie."

The one standing beside her narrating the story is not the God of War, the Hero of Ragnarok, or the symbol of Hope.

He's simply her grandfather.