The fires of Skarnholm burned through the night. After the betrayal and Ulfvar's death, the fortress's once-proud halls felt colder despite the rising heat of war. The warriors of Skarnholm did not mourn aloud. They drank in silence, sharpening their axes, preparing their hearts. Above them, banners torn by wind and smoke bore the sigil of a broken legacy—and the promise of one reforged. Astrid stood on the stone balcony where her father once ruled. She did not wear mourning black but steel and leather. Her auburn braid snapped in the wind, face pale with the burden of war. Below, armies lined in formation, Skarnholm’s finest, now under her command. Kael approached, his cloak billowing as snow drifted through the wind-swept court. His eyes met hers. "You took command without hesitation," he said. Astrid didn’t flinch. "There was no time to grieve a traitor. My father made his choice. I make mine." A pause. She looked down at the ranks forming beneath them. "Skarnholm s

The beacon fires of Vetrheim blazed high into the wintry skies, warning of impending catastrophe. Loki’s forces, stirred by the promise of conquest, marched with thunderous purpose, their jagged weapons forged in the forges of Jotunheim and sharpened by vengeance. But they would not find Vetrheim unguarded. Kael turned to Eira, "We must reach Vetrheim before Loki's army does. The realm's defenses are strong, but they won't withstand an assault of this magnitude without warning." Eira nodded, her hand resting on the runestone. "I'll send a message through the seidr. The guardians of Vetrheim will know we're coming, They have Sorcerers who would feel the magic." As Eira began her incantation, Kael addressed Astrid and Vigdis. "Gather the Armies. We leave at first light." They arrived ahead of the storm. Vetrheim’s snowy spires shimmered beneath the aurora, its mountain gates reinforced with the might of stone and runes. Here stood the last stronghold before the northern winds of

Loki held the runestone high, his fingers curling tightly around it as its glow pulsed in his palm like a heartbeat of pure magic. The Shadows in Skuggarheimr twisted around him as if the very air obeyed his will. "At last," he breathed, his smile stretching slowly. The Jotuns massive and towering brutes with their jagged armor and frost covered weapons all stood in a wide circle around him. Their eyes gleamed with hunger and rage. But what they wanted most now… was war. “We will use this stone,” Loki declared, “to move our hosts across the Nine Realms. Our war machines… The weapon that would be forged in the the very bones of the mountains… even the serpent Jörmungandr himself will rise. And Hrym” that gaurds the forge , “ will follow when I bend his will to mine.” A dark hush followed his words. The Jotuns stiffened. None spoke. Only Loki could do it, bend the wills of the untamable, a forbidden magic known as Vardlokkur, a seidr once reserved for the gods and cursed by th

Loki stood atop a ledge, his eyes gleaming with wicked light. With a cold, sharp gesture as he commanded, "Bring her to me. Bring me Eira!" The Jotun forces turned like a strong wave toward Eira, there where hundreds of them, their massive shapes thundering across the frost as they charge towards her direction. Eira stood her ground, weaving seidr power into shields of blue fire. She blasted the giants back, freezing some where they stood. But there were too many. She stumbled, faltering under the sheer force bearing down on her. From a distance, Astrid saw it. Without hesitation, she snatched a bow from a fallen soldier and began firing , one arrow after another, each shot clean and deadly. Her arrows pierced the Jotuns through their throats, their hearts, their skulls and eyes. Still, they where coming towards Eira. Then, like a shadow among the blizzard, Loki moved with speed. He slipped through the chaos, in an instant his form splitting into three, then six , illu

The forge was taken. Loki now controls Jörmungandr, and darkness is spreading all over the realms. His forces, the Jotuns, twisted beasts, and shadows had encamped around the mountain like a tide that refused to retreat. The armies of the realms had withdrawn, what little remained of them. A few thousand survived. The ones left Poisoned, bloodied and the survived weary. They rode in silence. There was no land left untouched by Loki’s destruction. No realm that would be spared. There is no refuge any where. Astrid said to kael from behind as they rode. kael didn't answer her immediately as his gaze was far ahead like he was riding towards something. then he answered with just one word. "Nørhaven ." The last kingdom. The last defense. Kael rode with Eira slumped against him, her body barely held upright. The wound at the side of her ribs still had her weakened. Behind them, Vigdis, and what remained of their broken armies followed, their armor scorched, dragging the