Calm and Reasonable

"Do you think mother knows we've spread her ashes?" A small boy skips through a metal door as it slides open. He stops and turns to stare up at a man following him through the door. With short brown hair styled into a small mohawk and scars littering his face, the boy seems to be no older than eleven years old. Though the bow and quiver hanging from his fur garb hints that he can handle himself in a battle. This boy is known as Atreus, a mix between a God and giant, and the son of the man before him.

The man he speaks to grunts, stepping heavy past the boy, "I do not know," his voice is rugged with slivers of deep thought shining through. The man stands tall and bulky with a bald head and a thick brown beard. A red tattoo covers his left eye and swirls to his back, chest, and shoulder. An ax hangs from his back along with dual blades, both weapons sharp enough to cut nearly anything, especially with the strength of the man in possession of them. This man is Kratos, an ex-general, God, and father.

"Oh, Lads. Am I glad to see you," A thick scottish accent echos from the metal floor of the room, and Kratos crouches to pick up a decapitated head. He holds the head up before him and a deep hum vibrates his throat, "The dwarves?" he rumbles while staring into the glowing eyes of the head.

"They took an uncomfortable amount of measurements and then proceeded to bicker about the weather before disappearing," The head says. With a beard that does not lose out to Kratos' and two horns protruding from his forehead, the head seems as if it's seen better days. This is Mimir, a Celtic Faerie far from home much like the two gods before him. He served as an ambassador to a certain Aesir King of Gods in the past, his immense knowledge of every language, war, deal, and living things far surpassing that of any other being.

Atreus stands beside Kratos, staring up at Mimir, "Where do you want us to take you?" he asks.

"How about the warm confines of anywhere bloody-else!" Mimir exclaims.

"Ha, okay," Atreus responds with a chuckle. Kratos attaches Mimir to his hip, stepping forward. The pair steps up to a well in the middle of a metal platform, a blue essence swirling inside the well with small towers lining the outside. A tree floats above the well with more of that blue essence floating among its branches.

Kratos takes a metal trinket from his hip, a blue stone pulsating brightly in the strange trinket as he injects it into a slot on the well. Rough hands set on the rim of the well and the towers move in a circle until a certain one settles at the front. Kratos pushes on the trinket and a loud boom echos through the room, the blue essence from the tree stringing along to a crystal across the large room.

"So... Did you do what you meant to?" Mimir asks from Kratos' hip.

"Yeah! The view was amazing from the mountain!... All of the giants are gone though," Atreus sags his shoulders as he finishes his words.

Mimir hums with some confusion, "That is strange, laddy... The Aesir made it their main objective to decimate the giants, but some should have escaped to Jotunheim when Tyr sealed off the realm," he says with a thick Scottish accent.

"Maybe... They didn't want to live anymore?" Atreus says as that crystal floats above its socket with the blue essence swirling around it.

"Aye, laddy, that could very well be the case. The giants were a proud race, but none are immune to loneliness," Mimir says.

Kratos interjects in the conversation with a grunt, "Head, that's enough," he says.

Mimir scoffs, "sorry, brother. That did get quite depressing, didn't it?" he says.

Another boom echos through the room and that crystal slowly floats down to its socket, the blue essence retreating back to the tree above the well. The trio approaches the door behind the crystal and Kratos peels the massive piece of metal open with little effort.

Boots meet a bridge made of blue light, and Atreus runs ahead, rounding a corner to meet a certain pair of brothers, "Hey, Brok. Hey, Sindri," Atreus says.

Kratos rounds the corner not far behind Atreus to see a Blue dwarf leaning over a wooden table, glancing at him. Another dwarf, this one not being blue, stands before a stone wheel, the hissing of metal being sharpened echoing through the room, "So, how was your trip to Jotunheim?" The pale dwarf, Sindri says. He wears a gold-plated cuirass, almost too big for his dwarven stature.

"Will you give them a little privacy?" The blue dwarf, Brok says, "The kid just found out he's a giant, he doesn't need you interrogating him!" His blue bald head nearly shines in the smelting fire behind him.

"Brok! You knew!?" Atreus asks, a small gasp leaving his lips.

"Oh, we knew Faye was the last Guardian of the Jotnar left in Midgard," Sindri says, still preoccupied with sharpening a blade, "That's why we made her the axe. We hoped it could restore the balance of power—"

"After Thor went all BRE-zerk with our hammer!" Brok Interjects.

"Though in the end, it seems... She chose another path," Sindri continues, "She chose, well... You. Both of you. I suppose she figured that was the best chance for the giants to live on, and now, I suppose... That's up to you."

"How about that, a young Jotun with us the whole time..." Mimir says, "And the son of Laufey the Just! Ah, I should have seen it before!"

"Enough... It is time for us to go home," Kratos says as he turns away from the brothers. Atreus follows behind him, "Bye, Brok! Bye Sindri!" he waves to the dwarven brothers as he walks behind Kratos. The brothers return a wave, and a loud pffft comes from Brok. Sindri begins to gag, "Oh... Oh, that's disgusting," he says, heaving into a bucket to his side. Brok scoffs, "Stop being such a fucking titty baby!" he says.

Kratos approaches a pile of rubble directly across from the dwarf brothers' shop. As they step closer, the rubble and splintered wood begin to vibrate, a blue energy enveloping each piece as they rise from the ground.

A wooden door with a bright blue nordic insignia forms before them, small stones surrounding it in an arch. Kratos pushes the door open to reveal a wall of energy, and walks through it. A cold air touches Kratos' skin, and he sees Atreus run along before him on a path of what seems to be a massive branch.

More branches extend from the side of the path, blue crystals studding them with same color veins running through every inch. Kratos walks forward behind Atreus, and a heavy silence surrounds them as they move along.

"Brother," Mimir suddenly breaks the silence.

"Hmm?" Kratos grunts in response.

"We need to speak about something... The boy should hear it as well," Mimir says.

"Boy," Kratos calls to Atreus.

Atreus stops and turns, "Huh?"

"The head has something to say," Kratos' deep voice echos through the numbing silence.

Atreus waits for Kratos to catch up, walking behind him as he stares at Mimir, "I don't know if you lads have noticed, but it's getting colder," Mimir says.

Atreus furrows his brows, "Yeah? what about it?" he responds.

Mimir sighs, "With all of the stories I've told you, you haven't heard of Fimbulwinter, laddy?" he says.

"Of course, you talked about it before," Atreus responds.

"It is the winter before Ragnorok, is it not?" Kratos asks.

"Aye, Brother... Normally I would pass it off as a normal winter, but with the death of Baldur... I fear the precursors of Ragnorok have begun to take place," Mimir responds.

"But Fimbulwinter is supposed to last for three years, right?" Atreus asks.

"Oh, yes, Laddy... Blizzards will take over the land, and the Lake of Nine will freeze through. It'll be a damned terrible three years," Mimir says.

"And that's beginning now?" Atreus says.

"Aye... I'm not for certain, but this sack-shriveling cold is undoubtedly different," Mimir responds.

Kratos grunts as they walk along the path, and a door-shaped wall of energy appears before him, "save it for another time, we are nearly home," he says.

A small foo sound echos as the trio passes through the door, and a different cold numbs their faces, the same cold that Mimir had spoken of. Their feet track through at least a few feet of snow, heading towards a wooden shack with more snow piling upon its roof.

"It feels like it's been years since we've been here," Atreus says as he heaves his tiny legs through the knee-high snow.

Kratos responds with his usual grunt, a gesture all too suggestive of different emotions. As one would say, 'A grunt can mean a thousand words.'

The trio reaches the door and Kratos puts his hand on it, the muscles in his arm contracting slightly to open it. Suddenly, a massive boom shakes the land around them, throwing piles of snow in every direction behind Kratos, Atreus, and Mimir.

"Oh... Lads... It's- It's Thor," Mimir stutters the words out.

Kratos and Atreus spin around as if their life depends on it to find a crater in the ground, blue sparks of lightning pulsing around a figure kneeling in the middle. The snow settles, and the figure stands, a massive man revealing himself as he stands proud in the crater.

The man stands with a potbelly laid out despite the numbing cold, leather pauldrons covering his shoulders, brown, disheveled hair, and a same color burly beard covering his jaw. A hammer hangs from his side with those sparks flickering around it, begging to be released on the beings before him. He rests his eyes on Kratos, "You seem to be a calm and reasonable person... Are you a calm and reasonable person?"