Born of Cold and Winter Air

The Past Never Dies

The pages of the book were aged and fragile, much like the paper thin skin found on the back of an old woman's hand. Elsa carefully fingered through them, searching for the specific page number that listed and described the names of various Frost Giants and Gods. Her eyes expertly scanned through the "old language" and deciphered it's perplexing tales.

This was the third book of Sagas that she had read through in the last four hours since beginning her quest to answer Jack's questionable origins; and yet she felt no where near a logical conclusion. How could he truly not know? Many do not follow the old religion, but it was still common knowledge that had been passed down from generation to generation, she thought.

"What does this one say?" He asked, peering over the book, his expression was skeptical. The last two books had both held conflicting stories. One, a tale of a vengeful and malicious god, who found pleasure in the suffering of mortals. The other, a spirited but passionate god, tasked with bringing the change of season. The later, Jack far preferred , but he still doubted them to be of any truth. There was no explanation of why he could only recall the last two hundred years or so. How could these sagas possibly know about him when they were written long before he came to be? Something wasn't tallying up and it left a disturbing sense of question festering in his mind.

"This one, is completely different, but somehow the same. It's tying the two previous Eddas together and forming a somewhat cohesive storyline." Her eyebrows knit together in deep concentration.

Jack watched her with interest as she chewed on her bottom lip, her back further bowing over the large book. He couldn't make out anything the books in the library said. While he was well versed in Latin, his native tongue was English. However, the ancient runes of Proto-Norse held a magnetic pull that sparked his curiosity; a creeping curiosity that told him that he should know what they translated.

"Go on..." He crossed his legs "Indian" style as his form hovered in the air.

Elsa methodically scanned through a few pages, fingers trailing along the inked runes; her eyes lighting up like a child. "This is much like the den Gamle Tro (the old belief) my nursemaid would tell me as a little girl. It goes on to say that you, Jack Frost, also known as Jokul Frosti, is the son of Kari, the god of wind. Your grandfather is Fornjotr, the giant, named for the moon of Saturn." She paused, mulling over the information in front of her. "There's really no telling for sure what story holds truth, considering they all seem to be contradicting, but in my own conclusions, this one seems to make most sense. The truth ultimately lies within you, and remember, none of this could be of unquestionable truth; but it's certainly more logical than what you've come to believe. I honestly didn't think gods and goddesses existed, but then again, according to Christian orthodoxy neither should I."

Hiso, Norway 400 A.D

The michevious but fearsome Frost Giant, and god of glaciers, Jokul Frosti ; dwelled in solitude. His home a great castle of ice, was of magnificence and foreboding; a fortress impenetrable by any mortal man. Frosti came to live on earth after leaving his father's kingdom on Jotunheimr. He delighted in his icy refuge, the company of obedient,but loyal soldiers being his only companions.

Many gods and goddesses lived amongst the mortal when it suited them, creating lineages of demigods, and taking pleasure in exercising their might. Jokul Frosti was not unlike them, but his pleasures were darker in nature. Many a mortal battle, Frosti would participate, quenching his thirst for blood. His brother, Snaer, kinder in nature, occasionally was found at his side during thus battles, aiding Frosti in his violent pursuits.

Peace in the nine realms only soured Frosti's disposition. He was born to wage war and to thrill in the wake of carnage. Many believed him to be purely of evil intent with no hint of humanity ; but that was until Mjoll.