It was a day like any other at the Hearth-Home (Winterspike).
After a good nap in her stone house — not wood, still standing and not burnt like last time — Ornna wondered what she would forge today: an axe, a sword, maybe a helmet?
As she hummed down the vast corridors, her eyes fell on a locked door, carved with a golden dragon motif. Images and memories from a faraway past stirred within her. She stood frozen, until a small creature's voice broke her thoughts.
"Poro poro polo!?" squeaked a serious-looking poro.
"Emm." Ornna nodded. Over time, she had learned to accept them. Once, solitude was her only friend, and the forge her only passion. If it wasn't for him, she would have never changed.
"Poro po poro, pilo roro… porp?" explained Frojo in his strange tongue.
"Very well, Frojo." she answered, understanding his intent. The poro called his brothers to continue their work, hammering metal with great focus. Ornna nodded, satisfied.
The caves were alive: colossal constructs she had forged moved about, working and guarding the halls.
BOOM !!!
The mountain shook. Ornna, calm as ever, wasn't worried. Her walls would never break. She walked to her forge and began to hammer a blade.
Then came the noise of chaos, and a loud familiar voice.
"Hahaha! If it isn't my big Frojo!? You've become a fine blacksmith!"
Of course. That voice could belong only to Bruma.
"I know you're not happy I left you here, but who else could make your dream real but the forge goddess Ornna!?"
Ornna agreed silently: the poros had indeed grown.
"It's fine." she said.
"Ornna! My old friend, how are you!?"
Ornna finally looked up. Her eyes narrowed. Her tool had been turned into a shield-sled. She hated when an artifact was misused.
"It's a door." she corrected, then went back to work.
But another loud voice rose, younger this time.
"Ornna, the Demi-Goddess of Volcanic Forging! The eldest of the Freljord demigods!! Legends say she forges weapons and armor at the level of artifacts—and she's right here before us!!" cried Nouna.
"And she's still so talkative, hahaha!!" added Bruma.
Ornna's gaze fell coldly on the notai girl.
"Little one… it seems my sister chose you as her champion."
"What!? Anivia chose me!? But why me!?" Nouna shouted.
"I don't know. But part of my sister lives in you… and in the yeti." Ornna said.
Willa hesitated, disturbed. Ornna ended it with a single phrase: "I've said enough."
Then Alex, mesmerized by the flow of Ornna's muscles as she hammered, finally found his voice.
"Excuse me, ma'am! We seek your sister's mountain. An ancient yeti temple is there. Do you know the way?"
A vein pulsed on Ornna's forehead, smoke escaping her nostrils—yet when she looked at Alex, her sternness shifted.
That face… that voice… that aura… it couldn't be mistaken.
Was it him? Or his descendant? No… every being has a unique spiritual mark. And this one… she remembered.
"Your name?" she asked.
"Alex." he replied instantly.
"Al-Ex…" she murmured. Almost the same. Almost.
"There's only one way to be sure. Come with me." she said.
The group stared in shock as she led them through vast halls—golems, poros, rare artifacts, blazing forges. Finally, they stood before a great door carved with a dragon's head.
Alex felt a pull deep in his soul. He stepped forward and placed his hand on it.
"Wait, Alex, that's not normal! It could be dangerous!" Nouna cried, but Bruma held her back.
"Calm down. Ornna may seem harsh, but deep down she's kind. She wouldn't put Alex in danger."
Ornna nodded.
Guided by instinct, Alex touched the door…
And then—
To be continued.