Hela Odinsdottir was exceptionally tall.
She stood several inches taller than the average adult man, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Even beneath her oversized dark green cloak, the striking curves of her figure were impossible to conceal.
The Goddess of Death lowered her chin slightly. Her downcast eyes studied the human sorcerer before her, whose expression was indifferent and whose brows had merely twitched twice. As she thought it over, her face grew colder.
"You've truly never heard of me."
The Ancient One had introduced herself to Hela, and Hela had seen every trace of astonishment and confusion on her face. Feeling the aura of lifeless energy radiating from Hela in layers, filling the surrounding air, the Ancient One met those dark eyes and replied with calm candor:
"The All-Father of Asgard, Odin Borson, is said to have fathered two sons: Thor, the God of Thunder, and Loki, the God of Mischief. I've never heard of you."
Buzz!
The moment the Sorcerer Supreme finished speaking, the nearly viscous fog was swept away by the gust of wind that burst from around Hela.
The shore of the vast, open town of Tonsberg was deserted. Only the ferryman, still dazed, remained on his little boat.
The leaden clouds overhead grew heavier. Black particles, like snowflakes, churned within the nearly black clouds, then gathered into flakes and drifted down with a soft rustling.
"I conquered most of the Nine Realms for him. But in the end, he not only stripped me of my divine power and sealed me in the boundless Abyss of Desolation, he erased every trace of my existence. Mortal sorcerer, tell me: has there ever been a father more vicious and heartless than Odin?"
Black snowflakes fell thick and fast. The temperature on the shore did not drop