All the ice giants were ready. Although some wore furrowed brows, restless at the sudden command, none dared to question it. The silence was as thick as the snow surrounding them, too heavy to be broken by doubts. Eskandor, now positioned at the front, stood tall with restrained pride and spoke, his voice echoing between the icy peaks:
"It's all set, Your Majesty."
Uriel didn't respond immediately. His unique gaze swept over the faces before him, as if weighing their souls. Then, he elegantly raised his powerful wings and ascended into the skies like a blue shadow against the cloudy sky. The gusts of wind that followed his flight sent the snow spinning in spirals, forcing the giants to close their cloaks against the biting cold.
Eskandor led the way, his firm steps carving a path through the thick snow, and the other giants followed closely behind, forming a silent, tense procession.
Hours passed.
The endless white landscape gave way to a secluded mountain formation, where a dark hole awaited them like the throat of a slumbering beast. Eskandor pointed with a solemn gesture and advanced without hesitation. One by one, the giants followed him into the mountain. Surprisingly, Uriel's colossal form, twelve meters in length, managed to pass through the tunnel without difficulty, even though the space seemed too narrow at first glance.
The stone path was dark and damp, lit only by the bluish glow that emanated softly from Uriel's scales. At first, there were only smooth stones beneath their feet. But as they advanced, the walls began to change. From the bare rock, roots emerged—thick, pulsating, some vibrating as though they were breathing. The air grew denser, almost mystical, as if every step was taking them out of the world they knew.
At last, they arrived.
The cavern opened into a large subterranean hall. In the center, a pool of still water, milky white in color, almost ethereal, as though it contained fragments of dissolved clouds. A faint vapor rose from its surface, carrying with it a slightly sweet, unfamiliar scent, but not unpleasant.
Eskandor stopped at the edge of the pool and pointed with reverence:
"This is where I crossed between realms. Even without knowing how or why, sometimes the water just takes me... I've been to many places, though never to Hel. But it's always random. I enter, and when I realize, I'm in another world."
Uriel walked to the edge of the pool, his presence distorting the stillness of the place. He remained silent for a moment, watching the milky surface intently. Then, without looking away, he spoke with a firm voice:
"All of you, stay around me. We'll cross together."
The ice giants exchanged nervous glances, but obeyed. One by one, they approached Uriel, forming a closed circle around the edge. The air seemed to pulse around them, as if the very space was about to give way.
Uriel extended one of his wings forward, lightly touching the surface of the white water.
And it began to glow.
Once the glow faded, Uriel found himself alongside the others in a dark and silent land. Twisted, dead trees rose like bony fingers against the gray sky. The ground was covered in greenish, damp moss, and the cold... the cold seemed to penetrate the skin, reaching deep into the bones. A kind of cold that not only froze the body but threatened to steal the very soul.
Uriel, however, remained impassive. As a giant ice dragon, his essence was one with the cold—the freezing touch of Helheim did not affect him in the least. The ice giants who accompanied him, however, began to tremble discreetly, vapor escaping from their mouths in short puffs. The cold was bearable, yes, but clearly uncomfortable even for them.
Eskandor, on the other hand, showed no discomfort. Since receiving Uriel's blood and undergoing that mysterious transformation, he had evolved in many ways. His body, now different, seemed to adapt easily to the hostile environment of the realm of the dead.
Uriel scanned the surroundings for a moment and murmured in his deep, cold voice:
"This must be the Realm of the Dead... Good."
Eskandor furrowed his brow slightly, confused by the choice of location, but did not dare to ask. He wasn't foolish enough to question his Majesty's will.
"Stay here. I'll find a place for us to shelter. I'll return shortly. Eskandor, protect everyone in case anything appears."
Without waiting for a reply, Uriel spread his enormous frozen wings, and with a powerful flap, soared into the gray, silent skies of Helheim, disappearing into the cold mist that covered the forgotten world of the living.
Uriel crossed the great river with his imposing presence, flying high in the sky, until he reached a suspended bridge over the rushing waters. However, instead of descending to the spot, he continued forward, floating above the structure. Something, however, caught his attention. He felt a heavy, piercing gaze from below, an invisible weight that seemed to watch him with an unsettling intensity. For a moment, the sensation almost made him stop, but soon the gaze vanished, dissipating like a fleeting shadow.
Uriel let out a deep breath, relieved that there was nothing more to disturb his journey. He continued on his way, the wind battering against his skin, while his mind remained focused. Soon, a grand vision appeared before him: an immense castle, perched atop a steep mountain, its towers almost touching the clouds. He murmured to himself, with a tone of suspicion, as if expecting something to be amiss there.
"I hope Hela doesn't live here…" he spoke softly, but the doubt in his voice was clear.
As he neared the imposing structure, a disconcerting sensation gripped his senses. His eyes widened as he murmured, unable to believe what he saw. "There's a dragon in there? Seriously?" The incredulity spread across his face, as if the idea were too absurd to accept immediately.
He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but something told him that there, in some way, a dragon truly existed. Perhaps it was something natural for him, since, being a dragon, his instinct to recognize others of his kind was infallible. A mysterious smile appeared on Uriel's lips, slowly widening until it became an expression of pure satisfaction.
"This dragon... it might end up becoming my servant," Uriel thought, a malicious gleam in his eyes, knowing that if his suspicions were correct, arriving at that castle could be more than just a simple meeting. It would be an opportunity, a chance to gain even more power.
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