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(Hiatus) Ragnarök: The Fimbulwinter Saga

ON HIATUS. Will pick it up later. __________________ Ragnarök, a word with more than one meaning. For some, it is the end of everything, the End War, the Fall of the Norse Gods. For others, however, it is the beginning of a new Era brought upon by the wielder of the ancient power Fimbulwinter passed down to the most worthy amongst the Jötuns, the frost giants. But with the death of its previous host, Fimbulwinter is transferred to Loki Jökul, the son of a Viking father and a Frost Giant mother. To escape the watchful eyes of Odin, Loki's soul is transferred to another body in another world far from the nine realms, Gleymaheim. But was it the safest decision? Gleymaheim is a world engulfed in the flames of war. Everyday, the inhabitants struggle to survive against beings coming out of Portals leading to somewhere unknown. Thus begins a new Saga. ____________________________________________________ Disclaimer: - The characters in this fiction are imaginary. - The Old Norse Mythology used in this book won't necessarily be the same one that you know of. - Unlike my other novel, I'll try to keep this more within the trends, but in my own way. - Compare to my other work, this one will have a softer magic system, if you've read my other work you'll understand what I mean. - Update will be slow for now because I need to focus on my other novel. But they'll pick up in two weeks. ____________________________________________________ Do check out my other work: "Return of the Woodcutter" I promise that you won't regret it ;) (At least I hope you won't.) ____________________________________________________

YoanRoturier · Fantasie
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7 Chs

Two days journey (part 2)

As Loki couldn't sleep, he offered to take the first night shift. Nestled by the fire, he stared at the two full white moons, thinking about a mother he barely knew and also his first death.

Some guy with a hammer had attacked Loki and Bjorn, his father, as they were having dinners. They barely had the time to escape outside that the bastard had summoned lightning out of nowhere and destroyed their house while laughing like a madman.

And then… he had caught them, toyed with them, smashed their fingers one by one using that dreadful hammer of his. Once he had gotten bored with his toys, he killed Bjorn with ease and was ready to do the same with Loki, but a blue-haired woman intervened, transforming into a blue giant to fight off the bastard.

Loki could barely remember the conflict that ensued. Who could blame him since two godlike beings had fought in front of him at such speed he could only perceive the aftermath.

Towering ice spikes reaching the clouds. Thunder roaring, striking down trees after trees. Powerful shock waves causing the earth to shake in fear. But somehow he had remained unscathed, as if someone had protected him until… he couldn't remember what happened afterward.

However, he could guess that he had probably died from one of those powerful lightning strikes only one being in the nine realms could possibly summon.

'Thor,' He thought, clenching his fists, ashamed of his own weakness. Despite his current strength, Loki was a mere ant the god of thunder could crush with but his pinky finger. Of course, he wanted revenge. Revenge for his father who had died shamefully, without a weapon in hand. Revenge for his own death. Revenge for being looked down upon by a fucking bastard.

As for his mother, he did not know how to feel about her. He was confused. On one hand, his filial duty shouted to him to also seek revenge for her. On the other hand, pure logic suggested he shouldn't care, since he hadn't known her.

Why should Loki feel an attachment to a complete stranger? Bjorn had never talked about her. Never. Now he knew her name, but that was only because of Skadi's last message through Fimbulwinter. Still, he felt a small connection to Skadi, a link that formed after one single word, "snowflake." As weird as it may sound, that possible nickname his mother had given him felt estranged, yet very familiar.

The weird mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity confused him. At the moment, he had no answer to what he should think about his mother. Perhaps he would find it later, perhaps not.

However, no matter which conclusion he would end up reaching, his goal would remain the same: kill Thor. As for freeing the Jötuns from Helheim, it wasn't his problem.

But killing Thor required strength. How was he supposed to compete against a godly being? Also, Thor was backed up by Asgard and the mighty Alfather. One god was already dreadful enough, but an entire tribe of them was impossible to take on alone.

Even if he wanted revenge, only despair awaited him. No matter what stratagem a human would use, there was nothing one could do against overwhelming power. Such were the limits of humanity.

However, Loki was human no more—not entirely, at least. Thinking back to the powers his mother had displayed, a tiny spark of hope shone in the darkness.

Since he had inherited Fimbulwinter, there might be something he could do. But now was not the time. He lacked information about Gleymaheim, on how to get back to Midgard, on where to find Thor, and most of all, he lacked the power.

Fortunately, Fimbulwinter could be cultivated. He already knew more or less how to do it thanks to the knowledge transfer. However, it would take time, that much was certain.

But as his father used to say, "revenge is best served cold."

***

Loki woke up the next morning and found Roan settle next to the fire camp Loki had refurbished before falling asleep, leaving the merchant to keep watch. Roan stretched his hand, offering him a cup of water.

"Did that come from your bag too?" Loki asked.

"The cup yes, the water no," Roan said. "I just melted snow, boiled the water for a few minutes to kill off the small baddies inside, and voilà! Clean water for breakfast. Oh, and I also have a few tasty apples."

Loki grabbed the cup, took a sip, and sent the merchant a quizzical gaze. "Taste like piss."

Roan shrugged. "Well… I've never said the snow was tasty. Oh, you can add some pine tree leaves to it if you want. Makes for a surprisingly decent tea."

"No, thanks," Loki said, grabbing an apple to eat it. "How's the temperature this morning?"

"A bit colder," Roan replied, his face turning serious while taking a sip of his pine tree tea.

Loki grunted. It wasn't a logical response since it was daytime. The temperature was bound to be warmer because of sunlight. He frowned, made an assumption, and hoped to be wrong. If he was right, however, the journey to Noor would be more complicated than expected.

"Pack up your things, we gotta move," Loki said, grabbing his sword.

***

Six hours later, Loki and Roan stopped by the Mär, a river that flowed down the Kilena mountain range—where the cave was located—into a sea far to the south.

So far that Loki's body previous owner ignored its name. It couldn't be helped since Noor's inhabitants were too preoccupied with their daily lives, on top of having to deal with the many creatures living in Kilena and the occasional frostborns.

Loki examined the frozen river, touching its surface, trying to feel the ice's thickness. His affinity with ice allowed him to feel minute details he had never been aware of before. He discovered that the ice wasn't particularly thick and had formed quite recently, probably overnight.

"Temperature?" He said, turning towards Roan.

"Dropped a bit," Roan replied, blowing on his hands to warm them up. "Though, Noor's women are definitely colder, so I guess it's fine."

Loki ignored his comment. His gaze traveled down the river. If they were to follow it, they should reach Noor by tomorrow night, perhaps earlier if they forgo sleeping.

Problem was, he could sense the ice was slightly thicker that way. Loki could be wrong since he had yet to attune completely to his new powers. However, it was the fastest way to Noor. And he didn't know how long Roan's supplies, hidden in his backpack, would last.

"Do you have anything else to eat?" He asked.

"Humm, probably enough for one more meal," Roan said, looking into his bag. "I hadn't planned for a traveling companion on the return trip. Not that I dislike your company though."

"Could we stretch it to two meals if we were to ration?" Loki asked.

Roan shrugged. "Probably, but it won't make much of a meal."

"Shit…" He said, while his status window opened in front of him. He frowned and closed it with a thought. "Really? Is that going to happen every time I say 'shit'?"

Once again, the status window opened, and once again he closed it.

"Pardon?" Roan asked, confused.

"Nothing, let's keep going down the river."