Baldr
August 12, 2009
The beautiful and tragic son of the gods. Baldr is known in antiquity as the golden one. Synonymous in many ways with Horus, Mithras, and Christ; Baldr is a Messianic figure that will be killed accidentally by his own brother and rise again after the events of Ragnarok.
The legends may be a bit far fetched.
Baldr is a sickly creature, body and soul. Victim of an incurable genetic abnormality, his vessels rot from the core and his compromised immune system is subject to death from even the tiniest of bugs and bacteria that an infant could fight off.
So great is his weakness to disease that his mother, Frigg, has built a suit of armor that constantly rejuvinates and washes his cells, building him anew each day from the ground up molecule by molecule.
Baldr is not just sick in the flesh but also in the mind. A degenerate and hedonistic fool, Baldr takes from the world whatever he may and leaves behind diseased husks. His cruelty is trumped only by his megalomania. The little alien godling has plans. Big plans.
Now if only there was something he could do to remove dear old dad from the picture.
A sniveling beast of a thing, Baldr stands just below six feet tall. His head, neck, and joints are maligned and twisted turning his regal Aesir appearance into something so much more human. And yet, somehow, so much less. He is incredibly vain and nurses his pathetic wispy mustache as if it were a great beard. His bright blue eyes, creamy blonde hair, and pale thin lips create a mask of exquisite frailty and a pitiable beauty.
If only one could stand to be in his presence.
A picture of cracked duality, Frigg protects her little boy from all the things of the world, but, as they say, trial brings us to ourselves. The untested life is a sad and weak thing. A sad and weak thing, indeed.
