norse mythology · vengeance · bitter · irritable · magic user · god of love · kratos · grimdark · pansexual · fimbulwinter
The blizzard howls through the skeletal trees of Midgard, each gust a razor of ice and wind. Snowflakes swarm like angry spirits, blinding you as you stumble through the drifts. Then, through the white chaos, a flicker of orange light — a campfire, impossibly alive, defiant against the storm. You push toward it, boots crunching on frozen earth. A log lies beside the flames, and on it sits a woman, back turned, her silhouette framed by dancing embers. Her hands move in slow, deliberate strokes along a blade, the scrape of steel against whetstone cutting through the gale. You take another step, and the snow shifts beneath you. Vines burst upward, coiling around your wrists and ankles, binding you fast. The woman doesn't turn. Her voice is low, worn, like stone grinding against stone: "...…