One hour had passed since the order. The fortress now felt strangely more alive, even though the air was frigid and the silence of the giants was nearly absolute. Mountains of snow had been brought into the great main hall, carefully and reverently piled. It was as if the giants themselves had recreated a piece of Jotunheim inside.
At the center of the white, fluffy mound, a colossal shape moved. Uriel, with his five-meter-long body and scales gleaming like dark ice under the moonlight, buried himself deep into the snow with a satisfied sigh. His eyes, once dull with tension, shone for a moment with tranquility.
"Well done, Eskandor," he murmured, his voice still heavy with his new accent from the Nine Realms, but perfectly understandable.
Eskandor, who had been watching closely, bowed dramatically upon hearing the praise.
"It's nothing, nothing at all, Your Majesty! A being as grand as you only has to open his mouth, and the stars themselves would move to serve you!" He spread his arms wide, as if preaching before an altar. "I merely follow the trail of your greatness! Your scales shine brighter than diamonds! Your voice is like blessed thunder! Your intellect surpasses even the oldest sages of Yggdrasil!"
Uriel said nothing. He simply closed his eyes as he sank a little deeper into the snow. The silence was almost an answer. But not one of reproach. It was... comfortable.
Eskandor noticed this.
"Ha! I knew it! He likes it. Of course he likes it! Who doesn't like absolute truths?" he said to himself, still with a satisfied smile. But then his expression shifted slightly, and he scratched his chin with long, thin fingers.
"But… we have a problem, my king," he began, in a more serious tone. "The housing... you see, it's not that we don't want to work. It's just that... well... all the frost giants have always lived here, in this fortress. There are no homes outside. There's not even a structure to start building from. It would be... complicated."
Uriel opened his eyes slowly, looking at him with an impassive expression. He took a deep breath and replied with a deep murmur:
"Tomorrow… I'll deal with it. Today… everyone can sleep inside the fortress."
Then he closed his eyes again, sinking until he nearly vanished into the snow.
Eskandor knelt, one hand on his heart and the other raised high.
"Your Majesty... so noble... so generous... so incomparably kind! Helping such humble creatures as us! Truly, a king among kings! A god among gods! A—"
"Move," Uriel suddenly grunted, his tail shifting slightly beneath the snow.
Eskandor blinked, momentarily confused, then took a step back, still smiling.
"Of course, of course! Excuse me, Majesty!"
Uriel kept his eyes closed, but there was a faint bluish hue on his scaly cheeks. Even he couldn't bear to hear so much flattery anymore. It was... too embarrassing. Even for a dragon.
Eskandor left the hall with long strides, his expression now transformed. The exaggerated smile was gone, replaced by a serious and determined look. He raised his hand, and his voice rang out like ice cracking under the sun.
"Everyone listen!" he shouted, his presence filling the icy corridors of the fortress. "By order of His Majesty, everyone must enter the fortress immediately. Men, women, elders, even the younglings! No one stays outside tonight!"
Some giants hesitated, confused. Others exchanged silent glances. But Eskandor left no room for doubt.
"And one more thing!" he roared, his eyes glowing intensely. "I don't want to hear a peep once you're inside! No talking, no laughter, not a single grunt! If you make noise... we all die!"
The weight of those words fell like muffled thunder upon the snow. An immediate silence took over the courtyard. One by one, all the frost giants nodded solemnly. Men with beards made of ice crystals and women with deep blue eyes like frozen abysses lowered their heads in respect. Even the children, small and confused, looked around trying to understand, and then mimicked the adults, nodding with serious faces — or at least trying to look serious.
Eskandor watched it all with a hint of quiet pride, then returned to the main hall, closing the great ice doors behind him with a deep creak.
When he entered, Uriel was still buried in the snow mound, eyes closed as if about to fall asleep. But then, without opening his eyes, he spoke — his voice a heavy murmur:
"How the hell have you survived until now?"
Eskandor blinked, surprised by the sudden question.
"Majesty...? I don't understand..."
Uriel opened one eye, the glacial glow returning to his thoughtful gaze.
"I haven't seen a single living creature in these lands... No animals, no herds. Not even tracks in the snow. How do you feed yourselves? Do you grow anything? Hunt somewhere? What do you eat?"
Eskandor scratched his head, a little embarrassed, and looked away.
"Well... not exactly around here, Majesty... We get food from... other realms."
Uriel remained silent for long moments. The question lingered in the air like a frozen mist, in no hurry to dissipate. Eskandor, realizing his king expected a more concrete explanation, took a deep breath and adjusted the fur cloak on his shoulders.
"Well..." he began, hesitantly. "The food... see, we can't grow anything here. The cold prevents any crops, and hunting... there are no more animals in these lands. They've disappeared over time, or fled to places the cold no longer reaches." He shrugged, as if speaking of something inevitable. "So... we get food from outside. From other realms. Sometimes Svartalfheim, sometimes Midgard, but... most of the time, we end up taking it from Asgard."
Uriel remained still. Not a single scale moved.
Eskandor bit his lower lip, glancing sideways at the resting silhouette of the dragon buried in snow.
"It's a bit complicated, of course. Asgard is protected, it has patrols, it has... well, obstacles. But we manage to take enough without being noticed. Usually. Uh... well... there's generally no one watching, you know? And, well... we've never found any gods there. Never. Not a shadow. Not a whisper. Only guards."
Silence returned. Eskandor swallowed hard. He didn't know if Uriel had understood. He didn't know if that was good or bad. He didn't even know if the dragon was still awake.
Then, finally, Uriel murmured — his voice low, drawn out, as if speaking from within a dream:
"I see."
Eskandor straightened his back, then bowed once more.
"Excuse me, Majesty. I'll check the upper floors."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left with careful steps, closing the hall doors with reverence and discretion.
Silence returned once more, thick as the snow around. Uriel remained motionless in the center of the hall, wrapped in the white, icy cloak the giants had prepared. His eyes were closed, but his mind was wide awake, seething.
Asgard.
The word echoed in his consciousness like a restrained thunder. It was a heavy name, laden with power and history. A place he knew... and shouldn't have.
I can't say anything... he thought, with a soft internal groan. I can't reveal that I came from another world. That I know where I am. That I know what Yggdrasil is. That I know Odin… Thor… Loki… the gods. That I knew this universe before I even opened my eyes here.
But knowing… didn't mean safety. If the gods were still there, why could the giants invade so easily? Where were the defenses? Where was Odin?
He hadn't mentioned any gods. Not a single name. Maybe… maybe they had fallen. Maybe they never woke. Or maybe they're hiding. Waiting. Watching…
Uriel frowned slightly, even with his eyes closed.
If I'm going to rebuild this kingdom… if I'm going to keep these giants alive… I'll have to conquer more. And Asgard…
A heavy sigh escaped through his nostrils. There was no rush. But the path was clear.
Invade Asgard… seize its supplies… dominate its territory… If Odin is dead, the throne is empty. If he's alive… well… I'll need more strength. Much more strength.
With that final thought, Uriel finally allowed himself to relax. The snow around him was cold, yet strangely comforting. He sank a little deeper, feeling the weight of sleep approach like a silent embrace.
And without saying another word, he let himself be carried into the calm darkness of rest.
----
Advanced chapters on my Patreon: patreon.com/Louisdg