“Magic can be dangerous, so too technology.” The world Valkyrie lives in, belonged to, saw the two work side by side. Sometimes weather well; others not so well. Iron Man and Dr. Strange we’re a good example. She stretched now and then as they walked. She could feel her body complaining just a little at how lazy she’d gotten, not that it was terribly so. Just small twinges she’d work out, small twinges that would not be returning. She’d find some way to keep in better fighting shape. Though few would be able to see that she’d lost a step or two in New Asgard.
“So you died before...” she physically paused. “I cannot call the place ‘Starklandia.’” She shook her head and started again, catching up easily enough. As she walked, she absently played with some of the frayed yarn of what was once a sweater.
“You died and woke in the town?” No, not Starklandia. “There are others like that. Then there are others like me. I cannot believe that I managed to fall on my own sword while walking. One of the very few ways I could have died to find myself in this situation.” She laughed softly. “Unless that is exactly what I did. That would be a ridiculous way to die. Walking from my previous quarters to my new ones, transporting a sword I had not used since becoming king. Tripped and death.
“I walk with you because I came through the door with you. I will walk through the door again with you on our return to town.” It seemed obvious to her. She wasn’t his not leave Nyx behind. “So you are of royal blood? For your people?”