I still mourn the loss of my brother.
Even knowing that he lives I mourn him, for Loki was and is still lost - to me, to my family, to Asgard… to himself.
As children we played together, as men we fought beside one another. I thought him my comrade, I trusted him with my life.
In my pride I could not see the darkness that was slowly creeping up on him. On all of us. In my foolishness I failed to save him from shadows that were not all of his own making. I never imagined that one day he would fight not beside me but against me. I never dreamed that he would one day by both my brother and my foe.
I loved him. I still love him. No matter what he has done he is still my brother. And while he must pay for the wrongs he has done, I pray by Odin that punishment need not come from my hand, for that will prove a task too heavy for me to bear.
My greatest wish is that he will see the evil of his ways, that he will remember that there is good in him.
But every night I watch him slip into the void yet again. I see the shadows swallow him and I fear that he will never find absolution, that he will always be lost in that darkness. In every dream I see the pain and anger that shone in his eyes as he spoke of living in my shadow and I wonder… is there anything I could have done to save him from this path?
He has done much evil and killed many innocents, and yet in my heart I can only remember what he was and cannot bring myself to hate him. Every moment I wish for his redemption.
And many nights I grieve in the fear that Loki, that my brother, will never come home.
