Fimbulwinter.

The prophesied winter that heralded Ragnarok, the total annihilation of the Aesir gods. Or at least, that was what the books painted it out to be. A prolonged three-year period of continuous snow and frost, marked the rise of several factors, the unleashing of beasts, and the occurrence of events that led to the eventual decline of the Nordic Pantheon as people knew it.

The unleashing of the chains of the great wolf Fenrir.

The prophesied fight between the World Serpent Jormungandr, and Thor, the Thunder God.

The calamitous battle that soon followed, led to the demise of the top gods of Norse Mythology.

Lukas had also read about the mythological dragon Nidhogg, one that gnawed at the roots of the Yggdrasil and remained in Niflheim, protecting it against invaders. Niflheim, the home of the himthursars, or frost giants in modern variants of the term— where the icy plains of Hel were located.

But nowhere had he ever read anything about Fimbulwinter as an existence in its own right. It was supposed to be a prophetic event, heralding a season of great change, and as many would interpret it— the literary representation of the climatic changes across Northern Europe during that time.

"Fimbulwinter..." He breathed, "The cold winter that preceded the end of the Norse," He took a step back in thought, "I had never thought that it was an entity in itself."

"Oh?" She asked, "Pray tell, what did you think it was?"

Lukas swallowed. The earth's version of events was heavily steeped in mythology, shaped by generations and generations of changing perception as the world progressed from one age to another.

"Back from where I'm from, we've heard of the Norse myths. Hell, there are even people that worship the Aesir gods. And there are also people that worship Amaterasu," —she hissed— "though there's an opinion that She and her entire divine family were imaginary constructions crafted to counter the growing faiths from India and China."

He sensed her growing confusion at his use of earthly references.

Tanya, or he supposed, the Entity possessing her, squinted at him. "You are a confounding creature, Outsider. Your knowledge of the events of this world paints a picture of intense familiarity, and at the same time, stark, foreboding differences from the original. It makes me both curious and uncomfortable.”

Yeah. He couldn’t blame her. Though the irony that he was trying to impress the knowledge of hearsay mythology to a divine being was not lost on him.

“Where I am from, the nordic civilization is history. As is the…” he paused, uncertain of whether he should make such statements while in the Empire. For all he knew, walls had literal ears in this place.

“As is what?”

“Be at ease, Outsider,” Tanya offered, “There is nothing and no one that can eavesdrop on our conversation, Outsider. Speak your fill.”

Lukas looked around warily, staring as frost crept up the walls of the room. Even his very breath now condensed into a thin mist.

If not for Arah, he was sure he’d have been frozen several times over.

Thanks for that by the way.

“Don’t mention it. Partner,” The ifrit whispered, “I find myself intrigued by the tales of your lands. I wonder if it was one among those reflection worlds the Great Ones talked about.”

Reflections? Lukas inquired. Inanna had called it a Lostbelt, one that was disconnected from the Origin. There had been nothing that closely resembled anything to reflections.

Perhaps we can discourse on that later?

“I will hold you to that.”

He exhaled out a harsh breath and gathered his thoughts. “This… might feel a little strange, but I promised to give you the truth, no matter. Reality is, as they say, often stranger than fiction.”

The entity possessing the blonde spiritist nodded.

“Where I am from…” Lukas trailed, “there are no gods left. Or goddesses, for that matter. In fact, the concept of religion and mythology was simply that— myths. Literary creations that were passed down generation by generation, at times through word of mouth and others, through texts. Several factions among my kind were believers and fought to preserve their faith. Others were pretty agnostic about it, if not openly claiming it all as superstition and ignorance. A trick played by our brains in a misguided attempt to explain what cannot be explained.”

The ice on the floor fractured, creating a thin, jagged line that diagonally cut the floor into two pieces.

“No… Gods.”

Lukas shook his head.

“Where I am from,” He replied after a moment, “there are no gods left. Divine Pantheons are… history.”

Tanya inhaled. “None?”

Lukas shook his head.

Her mouth ticked up at one corner. “What about the Presence I sense in you?”

“It’s… complicated,” Lukas offered.

“Uncomplicate it.”

“Can’t. Literally. The Presence you sense belongs to someone that once existed, and even though She doesn’t. Not any longer.”

“But her Presence remains,” Tanya continued. “I can sense it. In you. It’s deeply entrenched. Not unlike a parasite, and yet— something far, far greater, and far deeper. Enough that you, in your entirety, feel like a superficial cover. A pallor, hiding the real thing.”

He had no words to say to that.

“And yet,” Tanya went on, “I know of no Goddess that could have boasted powers akin to that one. To dominate the End of the World and bend it down to her Will, and that too, as a mere Presence… is formidable.”

Lukas couldn’t help herself. His lips moved up into a grin.

“You have given her your heart,” Tanya observed, “I can see that. Your existence is entwined with hers.”

There was no lying about it. “It is.”

“Who is she?”

Lukas blinked. “...Excuse me?”

“Who is she?” Tanya repeated, “A goddess that commanded such authority would have gained recognition from all worlds. And yet, I cannot remember one of her prowess. Tell me about her.”

The grin deepened. “About her, huh?”

Tanya nodded. “Surely this Goddess must have had claims to her name? Her followers, her priests, the Pantheon she must have been part of?”

Lukas clenched his teeth in a sudden wolfish smile. “Fine. I’ll tell you. This is what She is called.”

He gathered power within his voice.

Then it happened.

“Annunit.”

Something within him stirred. Something that he didn’t know existed and yet, so very intimately tied with his existence. The lifeforce within him surged up like the tides on a full moon.

“She is the Morning Star. The Supreme Queen of Heaven and Earth.”

A storm hit his mind. A raw strength of such supernatural weight that it overwhelmed the mana infusion that Arah was keeping up as a way to keep the cold from affecting him. Instead, a wildfire rose up, washing past Arah’s fiery smolders and expanding into every inch of him, infusing him with an aura he had felt once or twice in his entire life.

Lukas fondly remembered how lightning streaked across the heavens of the imaginary sky his mindscape had conjured when the goddess had first introduced herself. He had thought that it was her power that was altering the mindscape to create a striking effect, but no, it went far deeper.

Even those words, those descriptions— they were significant. They had power.

An aura rose around him, cutting him from the World around. An aura that was Inanna and Inanna alone.

“Her wrath breaks the divine thrones. Her whims defile the most sacred of relics.”

Cracks were beginning to form on the ice around her. He could sense tumultuousness under Tanya’s carefully maintained composure. A sea of confusion and perhaps… fear, behind that carefully constructed facade.

“Cities turn to mold. Shrines turn to graves. Existence itself is unraveled by the fire of her Presence.”

A strange power tore at his perceptions, flooding them with random images and smells and sensations. It was like standing in a sandstorm, only instead of inflicting pain, every random grain forced you through an experience, a memory, so disjointed and intense and rapid that there was nothing to focus on, to hold on to. A flash sensation of summer warmed the grass between his toes. Plunging into a pool of chilled water in the hour before dawn. An image of watching warmly over a field where a little girl with braids planted a tree. Another of strangling someone to death with his bare hands. And the images doubled, redoubled, multiplied into thousands of separate impressions all coming at him at once.

Memories. These were the substance of Inanna, the pieces of her that railed against his will. He had inadvertently experienced a couple of those in the past because of the close bond they shared, but now, after being infused with her Presence, the bond had become something more.

Inanna’s memories hammered against his mind.

He didn’t fight them.

He welcomed them.

Allowed them to enter into his psyche and be stored as a perfect collection of her impressions.

Instead, he focussed on one image, a moment, that was his. A very simple moment, and yet, one that meant the world to him. An image of him sitting down on a chair, Inanna standing before him, and a glass of tenemu sitting on the table between them.

“Drink to it, mortal.”

It was enough.

So he continued.

“Where she treads is battle….”

Spikes of frost rose up from the floor and shot at him, every single one of them fully capable of tearing him to pieces. No amount of life force could heal those wounds. Not even Arah, at his full power, could have evaporated all of them without eviscerating Lukas completely.

But it didn’t matter.

“Where she sleeps is lust.”

For a wave of pure fire erupted out of him. A fire that gave off no heat, and yet swallowed the frost spears within themselves. Not even his clothes were affected by its presence. Instead, the power coalesced around him like a protective cocoon.

“Outsider!” Tanya gritted her teeth. “Stop that—”

“Her pleasure is prosperity, her wrath annihilation, She is—”

Tanya literally teleported in front of him, a frost-spear in her hand. There was no doubt what she intended to do, and yet— yet Lukas did nothing.

For he knew what was coming next.

“INANNA!”

Power emerged.