Cycle X Introduction
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[ The date on this entry is further than normal. Usually, the Summoner is more consistent in her journals. Even if it's something not immediately important, like the festivals, she jots something down. Yet even Anniversary passed and she didn't bother. ]
It's too cold. Even living high up in the Alps, this is too cold for me. After the Ball, it's felt like Baldr dragging me out by my sorry tail. Like what? Ugh.
Continue
The archival is important. It's important, I know. Especially when the sin of twisting fates like this is so present. It still makes my skin crawl, the world smells wrong all around us as it's become more and more apparent.
Sometimes I feel dizzy from it all.
Back when Ragnarök began, Loki said something about Veronica would have to stay in Embla and we'd be on our own. And Thórr was happy to test our strength... again.
Even happier to bear witness to our struggle afterwards, by R-Alfaðör's orders.
All this time later, I still want to call him Rune... ugh. This is meant to be a documentation of what happened, not how I feel.
...
Yet, I'd be remiss to point out that I *feel* very railroaded, as the video game nerds say. Thórr took over as soon as we saw Askr, and explained why he was back, and that this was fate. Even afterwards, she demanded we leave Midgard and run to Nifl on her masters orders.
I hated it. I hated the feeling that fate had been choked and strangled into this position, but-
There's something a bit... different, this time. When Alfonse was granted power from Askr, it was a pretty substantial amount. I've always been told the more choked fate is, the more depreciated the power exchanges that occur. Is this an exception, or just something I haven't seen before...? Is this why Alfaðör is so excited to see this upcoming battle?
I can't afford another headache as I write. Let's instead focus on how strong Alfonse has become, and how he's taller than me now. It's charming. A Chosen Hero. Thórr will face her fate in time.
Per Thórr's annoying instruction, it was off to Nifl. We thought the cold could be felt from Midgard, but as soon as we'd gone through the portal it was a whole different story. So long to all the crops we'd moved to Nifl in hopes of preventing famine. This reversed everything the fire had done to the temperature drastically.
All thanks to Fimbulvetr. Who spoke more like an AI than a god, beast, or monster. To speak of destruction like that left us all shaken, I think. It's not a way of speaking anyone from the Order would recognize well, being there's only a handful of people from the World of Steel. Yet before we could take in the full effect of her power, here's Thórr stepping in again to correct our path.
Teleporting us to safety. Alfonse looked displeased when she said we would've died not a moment later. And then I looked displeased when she really emphasized that we could not defeat her, but we must prevent her.
The Commander set up the necessary patrols right then and there, and they've been active ever since. If Fimbulvetr is that dangerous it's important to know everything we can about our surroundings and who approaches.
Yet patrols only warn of so much. Patrols may not realize, for example, that the icy hill we were climbing was not a hill after all. It was the ice that overtook the capital.
To look below your feet and think there are corpses under it is apart of living, as creatures and humans alike can die just about anywhere. But to think they've been alive days before, unknowing this was coming, it leaves a sour energy in the air.
And on that supposed icy grave, our second meeting of Fimbulvetr. It's a relief to learn the tension was for naught, in hindsight. Hríd had led his people to safety, and Fimbulvetr decided we were not worth pausing her destruction over.
This is close to the most recent events... it's been a lot of travel. It was here, Yglr informed Fjorm that Nifl was looking for her.. We started to make our way, but we're behind schedule. Nifl met us halfway, already looking for Fjorm on her own.
And as displeased about it as one can expect. Well, this Nifl isn't the ones sitting in the Order currently, so I don't know quite how she feels... but I have my assumptions.
She nagged us to follow, and... and I've forgotten to document the biggest annoyance in this journey.
Right.
After that night at the Ball, Baldr has decided to be a core presence at all meetings and anything that is my business. She may no longer have her powers, but that didn't prevent her from latching on to ever Baldr I have unfortunately summoned to craft a plot.
Because what's worse than one god of justice upset with you? Two. Three. Four, actually, thanks to her New Years celebrations.
So now my battlefield team consists of L'Arachel, Baldr, Alfonse and Sharena. Commander Anna has expressed annoyance at this, but Baldr refuses to step back for more than a fight or two.
Part of the attempt to make sure I stay in line from here on out.
It's like I've got Thórr shackling me on one wrist, and Baldr on the other, marching me towards an undecided fate Alfaðör wrote himself.
Between the cold and this, my moods been soured. Any way I can take my choices into my own hands has served as a vice in this prison.
Though this prison has it's benefits, like Nifl bestowing Fjorm with her powers. Now, we are getting closer to a potential fight.
...Didn't Thórr only say that the power of mortals couldn't defeat her? So, imbued with the power of gods, we'll stand a chance. We just need a bit more.
To Múspell and Hel we go.
I should get more outfits ready.