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For over a thousand years, the Lady Sif lived fiercely, fought bravely, and ultimately died in service of Asgard.

On earth, twenty-nine years ago, Sarah Whittaker was born. As a girl, she was brave, ill behaved, and had a natural proclivity towards injuries. She reads scars as quickly as others might read facebook profiles. She likes breaking bones as much as she likes rebuilding them. She runs every morning, has an ego that grates, and always scrapes the excess icing off of her cake before she eats it.

She’s funny and petty and quick to temper. And for twenty-nine years of her life, she unknowingly held the spirit of a goddess inside her, waiting to be reborn after Ragnarok.

But the problem with being reborn is that it sounds an awful lot like dying.