Amidst the vast expanse, the towering monolith of ice and snow, aptly dubbed the Ice Wall, exuded an aura of chilling coldness that seemed to grow more intense with each step closer. Even the dense fur of the Yetis offered scant protection against its icy grip, and no incantation could stave off the bone-chilling drop in temperature emanating from its frosty surface. Not even the Frost Giants, beings wrought from the very essence of icy sorcery, could resist its frigid embrace.
Yet, a transformation was underway.
The once-imposing Ice Wall now stood on the brink of collapse, its formidable facade yielding to the gradual decay of its frozen mass.
With each thunderous crash as chunks of ice plummeted downward, the surrounding air warmed, thawing the once-frozen terrain and waking a figure thought lost to time.
"WHO DARES WAKE ME FROM MY SLUMBER?!" The thunderous bellow of Ymir reverberated across the land, a primal force echoing off the icy cliffs as his wrath surged. "WHO THE FUCK WOULD EVEN THINK TO…" Ymir's fury momentarily halted, his gaze drawn to the crumbling barrier that had long divided the realms of The Outer Realms and The Great Beyond. "...well, I’ll be, haha…" A wry grin crept onto Ymir's weathered visage. "...now just who did that?"
Observing the disintegrating walls, Ymir loomed with an imposing presence, despite standing no taller than Kazuka. His figure boasted a large round belly, his white beard cascading like a waterfall down his chest in lieu of a shirt. Unlike his kin, whose forms exuded crystalline purity, Ymir bore the marks of time etched upon his weathered skin. His dreadlocks, a mixture of snowy white and ashy gray, swirled in the air, adorned with clinking beads and trinkets that chimed with the wind. Aside from the tattered loincloth around his waist, the only other adornment adorning him were the armored pads resting upon his shoulders.
As his gaze shifted, Ymir's blue eyes ignited with a bright orange glow, enabling him to discern the lingering magical residue in the air.
Following the faint trail, his vision ascended to the fractured sky, obscured by the swirling blizzard.
"By my mother’s milkers," Ymir's voice rumbled with a blend of frustration and curiosity, his attention fixed on the fragmented heavens. "Ergh," he growled, "Fiddlesticks and gold beans, I can’t see shit with all this snow."
Delving beneath his voluminous beard, Ymir's hand initially searched before darting to his back, fumbling for a moment before resorting to a whistle.
With two fingers firmly pressed to his lips, he unleashed a piercing call, the sound resonating through the storm-laden air. Gradually, something emerged from the swirling snowstorm, hurtling toward him with increasing speed.
In a great display of strength, Ymir snatched the small hammer hurtling towards him, its head fashioned from shimmering black ice. As his grip tightened around the handle, tendrils of crackling energy enveloped his hand, surging up his arm. With a forceful thrust skyward, a blinding flash of lightning rending the clouds asunder
Holding the weapon aloft for a moment, he allowed the magical energy to dissipate before delivering a resounding blow to the ground.
Upon impact, the hammer emitted a surge of power, freezing the harsh blizzard in its tracks.
Snowflakes hovered motionless and the wind stilled to a profound silence.
With a swift motion, Ymir tucked the hammer beneath his beard, causing the snowflakes to plummet to the ground in unison and the blizzard to vanish.
He cast his gaze once more to the fractured sky above, marveling at the surreal spectacle unfolding before him. "What a bloody view," he muttered under his breath.
The sky lay torn and fragmented, revealing a patchwork of disparate elements. Serene sections displayed a tranquil gray-blue expanse, adorned with billowing clouds and rays of sunlight piercing through, casting a warm glow upon Ayce and the rest of Arrithia.
Yet, interspersed amidst these calm vistas were sections with swirling mists of purple, along with hues of red and orange, moving together in intricate patterns as if the very fabric of reality breathed through the ruptures.
The final remnants of the sky unveiled a tapestry of midnight blackness, adorned with the faint twinkle of distant stars.
Ymir's gaze descended, tracing the trail of magical dust as it drifted northward, beyond the horizon.
His thoughts turned toward the Dwarves, their home nestled within the cracks of Mount Aglazad.
"Whoever buggered up the sky is heading towards my Dwarves," he mused, his voice tinged with intrigue. "...interesting."
Ymir embarked on his journey northward, his strides purposeful as he made his way towards Mount Aglazad.
In the distance, the silhouette of the towering peak sat on the horizon, its presence now visible with newfound clarity as the blizzard that once obscured it had finally abated and as the group paused to absorb the serene beauty of the snow-covered landscape, a sense of tranquility settled upon them, swiftly shattered by Menelik's abrupt interruption.
"Fucking finally!" he exclaimed, his voice slicing through the crisp air. "I've had my fill of that bullshit-ass snow and that bullshit-ass wind, but let’s not stop, because it’s still really cold."
As they resumed their journey, Mount Aglazad loomed ever closer on the horizon, its majestic form gradually emerging against the backdrop of the frozen landscape.
Initially resembling any other snow-capped summit, with each passing moment, more of its silhouette revealed itself, unmistakably indicating it as the abode of Dwarves.
Much like King Mazu's transformation of Castle Lionheart on Urith Prime, the Ymir Dwarves had ingeniously integrated their fortress into the very heart of the mountain.
Towering black stone walls, flanked by several matching towers emitting plumes of fire and smoke, adorned the landscape, their heat melting away any lingering snow.
As more walls cascaded down the mountain, they converged to form the colossal castle, a testament to the Dwarves' craftsmanship.
Yet, amidst this grandeur, perhaps the most awe-inspiring sight was the colossal cannon jutting from the fortress like a titan's arm. Its massive barrel gleamed ominously in the sunlight, and when the rays struck just right, they danced across the mountainside, illuminating a carving of a Dwarf seemingly manning the cannon.
The group gazed upon it for a moment longer, but before Menelik could punctuate the quietude once more, their reverie was shattered by the sound of someone shouting.
"Mush, mush, faster now!" The voice pierced through the air, its urgency escalating with each passing second. The group's attention focused on the source of the commotion, their ears attuned to the growing clamor.
From the east, the shouting materialized into sight—a sled propelled forward by a Dwarf, accompanied by six more within the roofless carriage, all pulled by nine mighty yetis.
As the sled skidded to a halt before the group, the musher's booming voice bellowed at them. "Oi, who you lot think you are, don'tcha know we're at war?"
The Dwarves all bore a striking resemblance, their individuality discernible only by the beads adorning their beards.
Each sported a distinct bald spot atop their heads, deliberately marked with a matching tattoo of a rune. Despite their shared features, their abundant hair, braided into thick bushels and secured behind their heads, showcased their meticulous grooming. Their pale white skin spoke of countless battles, framed by deep blue eyes infused with the wisdom of years of conflict.
Clad in yeti fur garments beneath a protective layer of metallic armor, their stature might have been short and plum, but their presence exuded an undeniable aura of power.
The musher scrutinized the group, his gaze lingering on Maeve before swiftly turning back to his comrades. "Do you see who that is?" he exclaimed, prompting two of the Dwarves to pop up from the sled, their faces breaking into broad smiles at the sight of Maeve.
"Well, piss on my boots and tell me it's raining...Maeve, what're you doin' here?" one of them boomed with a hearty laugh as they leapt out of the sleigh. "You're a sight for sore eyes, my dear. What brings you all the way here?"
As the other Dwarves emerged, each greeted Maeve with a mixture of warmth and familiarity. "Come to exchange the old favor, I suppose? It's been some while," remarked one, his voice laced with fondness.
Maeve closed her eyes briefly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she stepped forward. "I am, as a matter of fact," she replied, her voice carrying a nostalgic tone. "I could really use your help."
Bam, the hearty musher, led the group of Dwarves who had emerged from the sled. Among them were his younger brother Bammer, his older brother Bonner, his youngest brother Bon, his cousin Beck, Beck’s older brother Bryan, and their mother’s sister’s best friend’s cousin’s son, Dan.
As they mingled with the group, engaging in lively conversation and exchanging warm greetings, it became abundantly clear that telling them apart was no simple task. Their voices carried the same robust cadence, their gestures mirroring one another with uncanny precision. It often required a full sentence or a distinct mannerism to differentiate one from the other.
"Rebuilding a whole island? Well, Maeve, my biscuits have been unbuttered before, but this…this is like telling my pa I ain’t got no go in me for the garden. And you know how pa gets when you ain't got no more go for the garden," Bam stated, rubbing his hand through his beard. "I know we owe you a lot, but this...I don’t know how King Gim is gonna take it. We would need the entire mountain to do something like this. And you’re gonna have your hands full of pickles if you think they're gonna choose building over fighting," he added, placing a hand on Maeve’s shoulder. "Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what kind of Dwarves we are."
"Ymir Dwarves, yes," Ymir's voice reverberated through the group with such intensity that everyone beyond Maeve and Zero involuntarily knelt for a moment, except for Oduduwa and Menelik who stood defiantly.
Menelik couldn't help but interject with a small laugh, "Yo, Idris, Taharqa, get the fuck up. We bow to no one, you know this."
But Ymir's power kept Idris and Taharqa kneeling, restrained by the magic binding coursing through them.
Ymir turned his gaze towards Menelik. "They cannot stand until I allow them."
"Ah, no," Menelik asserted firmly. "I ain’t doing this with you, it’s been a long couple of days and if you could just, hey, don’t ignore me."
Turning his attention to Zero and Maeve, Ymir addressed them directly, "You two, was it you who tore the sky apart and broke my wall?"
"It was," Zero replied. "But it wasn’t our intention."
"What were your intentions then?" Ymir demanded, his tone growing more angered.
"Look, big guy…" Zero lifted his hands up, shaking them. "…I can tell you are strong, but…" With a sudden gesture, Zero forced Ymir face-first into the snow. "...you’ve been gone a long time, the hierarchy has changed in Arrithia, and I don’t like it when people are mean to my friends."
As Ymir's grip loosened, a sense of relief washed over those still kneeling.
Idris and Taharqa stood up immediately, but Kazuka, Elsa, and the seven Dwarves remained on their knees.
This drew Zero’s attention as he stepped away from Ymir. "Stand up," he stated firmly, addressing Elsa, Kazuka, and the Dwarves. "A friend of my wife’s is a friend of mine."
But despite his command, no one moved until Ymir intervened, instructing them to stand.
Zero closed the gap between them and locked eyes with Ymir. "I’m usually not like this, but I’m starting to get a bit hungry…" he trailed off, then turned back to the Dwarves. "…so if we could all hitch a ride in your sleigh there, head on back to King Gim, and indulge in some of that delicious food Maeve told me y’all can cook, I would really appreciate it."
There was a palpable sense of unease among the group, uncertainty hanging in the air like a heavy fog. Zero’s seriousness left everyone at a loss for words, and his silent determination conveyed that he wouldn’t ask again.
With a slight nod, Zero made his way over to the sled and positioned himself in the musher’s seat, gesturing for Bam to join him. After a moment of stillness, Zero broke the silence. "Well, come on now!"
One by one, the group squeezed into the sleigh, finding their places amidst the tight quarters. Ymir lingered for a moment before settling beside Bam and Zero at the front.
With a tug on the reins, Bam roused the Yetis from their slumber, prompting conversations to spark among the group as they journeyed towards the castle entrance at the mountain's base.
Rows of stone Dwarf statues lined their path, each statue adorned with a unique tool or weapon, standing as silent sentinels to welcome their arrival.
As they drew nearer, the large stone drawbridge began to lower, signaling their invitation into the fortress.
Amidst the chatter, Menelik leaned up and called out.
"Hey, Zero, got a question."
Zero turned his head to give Menelik his attention.
"What is it?"
"When you and Maeve were fighting, if you all actually were forced and couldn’t bullshit your way out of it, like you actually had to fight one another, you’d lose, right?"
Zero glanced at Maeve, receiving a stern glare from under her hood.
Suppressing a laugh, he turned back to Menelik with a smirk.
"Nah, I’d win."
End of Volume III
I’m going on an indefinite hiatus before I return to write book four, I’m tired.
Amidst the vast expanse, the towering monolith of ice and snow, aptly dubbed the Ice Wall, exuded an aura of chilling coldness that seemed to grow more intense with each step closer. Even the dense fur of the Yetis offered scant protection against its icy grip, and no incantation could stave off the bone-chilling drop in temperature emanating from its frosty surface. Not even the Frost Giants, beings wrought from the very essence of icy sorcery, could resist its frigid embrace.
Yet, a transformation was underway.
The once-imposing Ice Wall now stood on the brink of collapse, its formidable facade yielding to the gradual decay of its frozen mass.
With each thunderous crash as chunks of ice plummeted downward, the surrounding air warmed, thawing the once-frozen terrain and waking a figure thought lost to time.
"WHO DARES WAKE ME FROM MY SLUMBER?!" The thunderous bellow of Ymir reverberated across the land, a primal force echoing off the icy cliffs as his wrath surged. "WHO THE FUCK WOULD EVEN THINK TO…" Ymir's fury momentarily halted, his gaze drawn to the crumbling barrier that had long divided the realms of The Outer Realms and The Great Beyond. "...well, I’ll be, haha…" A wry grin crept onto Ymir's weathered visage. "...now just who did that?"
Observing the disintegrating walls, Ymir loomed with an imposing presence, despite standing no taller than Kazuka. His figure boasted a large round belly, his white beard cascading like a waterfall down his chest in lieu of a shirt. Unlike his kin, whose forms exuded crystalline purity, Ymir bore the marks of time etched upon his weathered skin. His dreadlocks, a mixture of snowy white and ashy gray, swirled in the air, adorned with clinking beads and trinkets that chimed with the wind. Aside from the tattered loincloth around his waist, the only other adornment adorning him were the armored pads resting upon his shoulders.
As his gaze shifted, Ymir's blue eyes ignited with a bright orange glow, enabling him to discern the lingering magical residue in the air.
Following the faint trail, his vision ascended to the fractured sky, obscured by the swirling blizzard.
"By my mother’s milkers," Ymir's voice rumbled with a blend of frustration and curiosity, his attention fixed on the fragmented heavens. "Ergh," he growled, "Fiddlesticks and gold beans, I can’t see shit with all this snow."
Delving beneath his voluminous beard, Ymir's hand initially searched before darting to his back, fumbling for a moment before resorting to a whistle.
With two fingers firmly pressed to his lips, he unleashed a piercing call, the sound resonating through the storm-laden air. Gradually, something emerged from the swirling snowstorm, hurtling toward him with increasing speed.
In a great display of strength, Ymir snatched the small hammer hurtling towards him, its head fashioned from shimmering black ice. As his grip tightened around the handle, tendrils of crackling energy enveloped his hand, surging up his arm. With a forceful thrust skyward, a blinding flash of lightning rending the clouds asunder
Holding the weapon aloft for a moment, he allowed the magical energy to dissipate before delivering a resounding blow to the ground.
Upon impact, the hammer emitted a surge of power, freezing the harsh blizzard in its tracks.
Snowflakes hovered motionless and the wind stilled to a profound silence.
With a swift motion, Ymir tucked the hammer beneath his beard, causing the snowflakes to plummet to the ground in unison and the blizzard to vanish.
He cast his gaze once more to the fractured sky above, marveling at the surreal spectacle unfolding before him. "What a bloody view," he muttered under his breath.
The sky lay torn and fragmented, revealing a patchwork of disparate elements. Serene sections displayed a tranquil gray-blue expanse, adorned with billowing clouds and rays of sunlight piercing through, casting a warm glow upon Ayce and the rest of Arrithia.
Yet, interspersed amidst these calm vistas were sections with swirling mists of purple, along with hues of red and orange, moving together in intricate patterns as if the very fabric of reality breathed through the ruptures.
The final remnants of the sky unveiled a tapestry of midnight blackness, adorned with the faint twinkle of distant stars.
Ymir's gaze descended, tracing the trail of magical dust as it drifted northward, beyond the horizon.
His thoughts turned toward the Dwarves, their home nestled within the cracks of Mount Aglazad.
"Whoever buggered up the sky is heading towards my Dwarves," he mused, his voice tinged with intrigue. "...interesting."
Ymir embarked on his journey northward, his strides purposeful as he made his way towards Mount Aglazad.
In the distance, the silhouette of the towering peak sat on the horizon, its presence now visible with newfound clarity as the blizzard that once obscured it had finally abated and as the group paused to absorb the serene beauty of the snow-covered landscape, a sense of tranquility settled upon them, swiftly shattered by Menelik's abrupt interruption.
"Fucking finally!" he exclaimed, his voice slicing through the crisp air. "I've had my fill of that bullshit-ass snow and that bullshit-ass wind, but let’s not stop, because it’s still really cold."
As they resumed their journey, Mount Aglazad loomed ever closer on the horizon, its majestic form gradually emerging against the backdrop of the frozen landscape.
Initially resembling any other snow-capped summit, with each passing moment, more of its silhouette revealed itself, unmistakably indicating it as the abode of Dwarves.
Much like King Mazu's transformation of Castle Lionheart on Urith Prime, the Ymir Dwarves had ingeniously integrated their fortress into the very heart of the mountain.
Towering black stone walls, flanked by several matching towers emitting plumes of fire and smoke, adorned the landscape, their heat melting away any lingering snow.
As more walls cascaded down the mountain, they converged to form the colossal castle, a testament to the Dwarves' craftsmanship.
Yet, amidst this grandeur, perhaps the most awe-inspiring sight was the colossal cannon jutting from the fortress like a titan's arm. Its massive barrel gleamed ominously in the sunlight, and when the rays struck just right, they danced across the mountainside, illuminating a carving of a Dwarf seemingly manning the cannon.
The group gazed upon it for a moment longer, but before Menelik could punctuate the quietude once more, their reverie was shattered by the sound of someone shouting.
"Mush, mush, faster now!" The voice pierced through the air, its urgency escalating with each passing second. The group's attention focused on the source of the commotion, their ears attuned to the growing clamor.
From the east, the shouting materialized into sight—a sled propelled forward by a Dwarf, accompanied by six more within the roofless carriage, all pulled by nine mighty yetis.
As the sled skidded to a halt before the group, the musher's booming voice bellowed at them. "Oi, who you lot think you are, don'tcha know we're at war?"
The Dwarves all bore a striking resemblance, their individuality discernible only by the beads adorning their beards.
Each sported a distinct bald spot atop their heads, deliberately marked with a matching tattoo of a rune. Despite their shared features, their abundant hair, braided into thick bushels and secured behind their heads, showcased their meticulous grooming. Their pale white skin spoke of countless battles, framed by deep blue eyes infused with the wisdom of years of conflict.
Clad in yeti fur garments beneath a protective layer of metallic armor, their stature might have been short and plum, but their presence exuded an undeniable aura of power.
The musher scrutinized the group, his gaze lingering on Maeve before swiftly turning back to his comrades. "Do you see who that is?" he exclaimed, prompting two of the Dwarves to pop up from the sled, their faces breaking into broad smiles at the sight of Maeve.
"Well, piss on my boots and tell me it's raining...Maeve, what're you doin' here?" one of them boomed with a hearty laugh as they leapt out of the sleigh. "You're a sight for sore eyes, my dear. What brings you all the way here?"
As the other Dwarves emerged, each greeted Maeve with a mixture of warmth and familiarity. "Come to exchange the old favor, I suppose? It's been some while," remarked one, his voice laced with fondness.
Maeve closed her eyes briefly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she stepped forward. "I am, as a matter of fact," she replied, her voice carrying a nostalgic tone. "I could really use your help."
Bam, the hearty musher, led the group of Dwarves who had emerged from the sled. Among them were his younger brother Bammer, his older brother Bonner, his youngest brother Bon, his cousin Beck, Beck’s older brother Bryan, and their mother’s sister’s best friend’s cousin’s son, Dan.
As they mingled with the group, engaging in lively conversation and exchanging warm greetings, it became abundantly clear that telling them apart was no simple task. Their voices carried the same robust cadence, their gestures mirroring one another with uncanny precision. It often required a full sentence or a distinct mannerism to differentiate one from the other.
"Rebuilding a whole island? Well, Maeve, my biscuits have been unbuttered before, but this…this is like telling my pa I ain’t got no go in me for the garden. And you know how pa gets when you ain't got no more go for the garden," Bam stated, rubbing his hand through his beard. "I know we owe you a lot, but this...I don’t know how King Gim is gonna take it. We would need the entire mountain to do something like this. And you’re gonna have your hands full of pickles if you think they're gonna choose building over fighting," he added, placing a hand on Maeve’s shoulder. "Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what kind of Dwarves we are."
"Ymir Dwarves, yes," Ymir's voice reverberated through the group with such intensity that everyone beyond Maeve and Zero involuntarily knelt for a moment, except for Oduduwa and Menelik who stood defiantly.
Menelik couldn't help but interject with a small laugh, "Yo, Idris, Taharqa, get the fuck up. We bow to no one, you know this."
But Ymir's power kept Idris and Taharqa kneeling, restrained by the magic binding coursing through them.
Ymir turned his gaze towards Menelik. "They cannot stand until I allow them."
"Ah, no," Menelik asserted firmly. "I ain’t doing this with you, it’s been a long couple of days and if you could just, hey, don’t ignore me."
Turning his attention to Zero and Maeve, Ymir addressed them directly, "You two, was it you who tore the sky apart and broke my wall?"
"It was," Zero replied. "But it wasn’t our intention."
"What were your intentions then?" Ymir demanded, his tone growing more angered.
"Look, big guy…" Zero lifted his hands up, shaking them. "…I can tell you are strong, but…" With a sudden gesture, Zero forced Ymir face-first into the snow. "...you’ve been gone a long time, the hierarchy has changed in Arrithia, and I don’t like it when people are mean to my friends."
As Ymir's grip loosened, a sense of relief washed over those still kneeling.
Idris and Taharqa stood up immediately, but Kazuka, Elsa, and the seven Dwarves remained on their knees.
This drew Zero’s attention as he stepped away from Ymir. "Stand up," he stated firmly, addressing Elsa, Kazuka, and the Dwarves. "A friend of my wife’s is a friend of mine."
But despite his command, no one moved until Ymir intervened, instructing them to stand.
Zero closed the gap between them and locked eyes with Ymir. "I’m usually not like this, but I’m starting to get a bit hungry…" he trailed off, then turned back to the Dwarves. "…so if we could all hitch a ride in your sleigh there, head on back to King Gim, and indulge in some of that delicious food Maeve told me y’all can cook, I would really appreciate it."
There was a palpable sense of unease among the group, uncertainty hanging in the air like a heavy fog. Zero’s seriousness left everyone at a loss for words, and his silent determination conveyed that he wouldn’t ask again.
With a slight nod, Zero made his way over to the sled and positioned himself in the musher’s seat, gesturing for Bam to join him. After a moment of stillness, Zero broke the silence. "Well, come on now!"
One by one, the group squeezed into the sleigh, finding their places amidst the tight quarters. Ymir lingered for a moment before settling beside Bam and Zero at the front.
With a tug on the reins, Bam roused the Yetis from their slumber, prompting conversations to spark among the group as they journeyed towards the castle entrance at the mountain's base.
Rows of stone Dwarf statues lined their path, each statue adorned with a unique tool or weapon, standing as silent sentinels to welcome their arrival.
As they drew nearer, the large stone drawbridge began to lower, signaling their invitation into the fortress.
Amidst the chatter, Menelik leaned up and called out.
"Hey, Zero, got a question."
Zero turned his head to give Menelik his attention.
"What is it?"
"When you and Maeve were fighting, if you all actually were forced and couldn’t bullshit your way out of it, like you actually had to fight one another, you’d lose, right?"
Zero glanced at Maeve, receiving a stern glare from under her hood.
Suppressing a laugh, he turned back to Menelik with a smirk.
"Nah, I’d win."
End of Volume III
I’m going on an indefinite hiatus before I return to write book four, I’m tired.
