The surprise of my sudden location change wore off just in time for me to pull myself out of the snow bank I'd landed in. Once I got my bearings, I realized that I was not alone.

I had to crane my neck to get a full look at the woman who had come up to investigate the commotion I must have made because she was at least ten feet tall. Her black hair was pulled back into a tail, her skin was a cold blue and adorned with intricate tattoos in darker blues and purples, she was more muscular than She-Hulk, and despite the cold, she was wearing the sort of leather bikini you'd see on the cover of a Barbarian hero pulp novel. Her features were sharp and small tusks poked from between her closed mouth. Across her massive shoulders was a bundle of split logs and at her hip was a woodcutting axe sized for Paul Bunyan.

"Holy shit, you're big!" I blurted out on reflex.

Luckily for me, she responded with a jovial laugh. "You're too kind," she said, "but I'm but a runt. My brother was taller than that mountain over there," she said while pointing to a range out in the distance. "Of course, he went and got himself killed in Malekith's invasion of Midgard so who got the last laugh there, ya bastard?" She laughed again. "But now, what manner of creature are you?"

"I am Maria Marshal of Midgard," I introduced, "and I have been told to seek the counsel of Kelda Allsdottir on my quest."

"Kelda Allsdottir?" the woman who I presumed to be a frost giant asked. "Kelda's my daughter. What need have you for the counsel of one so young?"

"I'm told she is wise in the magic of the forge," I explained. My mind was racing to try and put it into terms that I was sure she could understand. "I have need of such magic if I am to gain the power to defeat a God of Carnage who threatens Midgard."

The giantess sniffed the air. "That's true enough," she admitted. "My dear Kelda learned every bit of witchery that my husband I could teach her and bent it to her passion at the fore, and her talent there is..." her tone became sad. "Kelda's dream is to travel to Asgardia, forge a weapon worthy of the All-Father, and become a Goddess of the Forge but the journey from here to there is long and arduous and while our village is rather prosperous between what we make ourselves and what we get in trade, we can't afford what it costs to secure safe passage for her. The things she creates, weapons, armor, bejeweled adornments, even the shoes for horses, are all beautiful and functional but she's not satisfied with it no matter how brave a face she puts on..."

"Follow me," she finished. "I'll bring you to my home and you may speak with Kelda but be warned, if your actions harm her in body or spirit I will... What is it that they think giants do to mortals on Midgard?"

I blinked. "Grind my bones to make your bread?"

"That's disgusting," she said. "Who makes bread out of bones?"

"I don't know, it's a line from an old children's fairy story," I admitted.

"Bones are for stock!" she quipped with another booming laugh. "But seriously, hurt my daughter and I'll kill you. Come along now," she said with a gesture towards what looked like a path in the forest.

"So, uh," I said awkwardly, "you have my name, what's yours?"

"Rose," she replied. It was not what I expected, and she seemingly read that in my silence. "It's not the name I was born with," she clarified. "The name my father gave me sounds ugly and means something crude, I hated it. When I met the man who is now my husband he called me his 'strong rose of winter' and I chose to take that as my new name."

"Aww."

"Yes, my dearest Reinier has the soul of a poet," she confirmed contentedly.

"So... You're Rose and the father is Reinierm but Kelda's surname is 'Allsdottir?'"

"Bit of a story behind that," Rose admitted. "My Kelda is a child of all the Realms, save for Heven but to Hel with them!" she barked with another laugh. "As you can see, I am a Frost Giant born and raised in Jotunheim and I've dabbled in the witchcraft of my home realm and I taught what I know to Kelda, but my husband? That's a different story. See, he traces his ancestry back quite far. In a previous Cycle, Loki who is a giant by blood but aesir by choice mated with the witch Angerboda, who claims to be a giant but is in truth an Elderspawn born from two of the Elder Gods of Midgard, and begat the Fenris Wolf, a child of three realms."

"I'm with you so far," I confirmed.

"The Fenris Wolf mated with Surtur the Fire Giant of Muspelheim and that union, somehow, begat the Storm Giants, children of four realms," Rose continued. "And one day a storm giantess knowledgable in her people's magic fell in love with an artificer from Svartalfheim and they begat a child whom they taught their respective crafts."

"Interesting."

"Now this girlchild was a bit like a dark mirror of my Kelda, she wished to forge a mighty and terrible weapon. Though she was mostly just a large dark elf, she had in her the magic of five realms and the dark elves' talent for creative and cruel weaponry. Unsatisfied with what she could only find in her own realm, however, she quested into Nifelheim, the realm of the dead, and was touched by its cold, dark powers and became a child of six realms."

I did not comment on how much of a stretch that was, I figured there was magic stuff involved and moved on.

"However, she did not find what she was looking for and so went to Vanaheim, where she abandoned her quest as she met a Vanir enchanter—this being before they abandoned their sorcery and moved out of their cities—and discovered that you could create things simply because they were beautiful, not because they served a purpose as a weapon. They fell in love, courted, and eventually begat a child of Seven Realms. Their son rose to prominence as a crafter of magical items and eventually became betrothed to a minor noble from Alfheim, begetting a daughter of eight realms."

"And let me guess," I finished, "she learned all the magics that her parents had to teach her and then married a dwarven smith, begetting a son of all Nine Realms?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "who learned what he could from both his parents and then married an Aseir woman and fathered my Reinier, who learned all his parents had to teach him and then taught it to our Daughter. My girl is 'merely' Asgardian when you look at her, but she's the culmination of millennia of different people coming together and sharing what they know to create great things and my husband wanted to honor that."

"Which is probably why I was told to seek her counsel," I finished.

"Most certainly," the giant said with a smile.

We left the forest and arrived at a village near the foot of the mountain not long after that, and once there made our way to a house on the outskirts of the village which I assumed to be hers because the door was noticeably larger than that of the other houses, where Rose dropped the cut logs she was carrying into a frame that stacked them up nicely.

Then she led me around the front of the house and through the front door.

"Reinier my poet!" She called out. "I have returned and I bring a traveler on a quest."

"I hear you, my Winter Rose!" came back a voice that... I swear to god he sounded like the mayor of Munchkin Land.

Rushing into the entry room to greet his wife came a man who couldn't be more than four foot eleven if that. Proportionately, everything was... I don't want to say 'normal' but I don't have another word for it. He was just... Tiny. Dark of skin with a long, well-groomed reddish-brown facial hair tied in braids Reineir literally jumped into Rose's waiting arms and she lifted up her beloved to kiss him in greeting and...

Seeing them together, there was a Pokemon joke I could make but I held my tongue so as to not ruin the moment.

Said moment passed and the giant set down her husband. "So, we have a guest. A guest on a quest, what brings you to our humble home?"

I nodded in greeting and spoke, "I am on a quest to obtain the power to defeat a God of Carnage who menaces my home realm, and I have been advised to seek the counsel of Kelda Allsdottir on how to proceed, for I am told she is wise in the way of the forge."

"You seek a weapon to slay a wicked god?" He asked. He wasn't wrong. "I'm sure my beloved daughter would be thrilled to have been sought out to advise on such a thing. She's working the forge in the back. Don't bother knocking, she won't hear you."

Reinier led me through the house and out through the back entrance to a yard and I saw another, smaller building from which I could hear a loud, rhythmic clanging.

Assuming that to be the forge, I went to it, opened the door, stepped inside, and...

I saw the same beautiful young woman I briefly glimpsed when I used Hofund. Dark-tanned skin, long black hair pulled back, strong, well-earned muscles on her arms glistening with sweat in the light of the forge flame as she pounded molten steel into the shape of a blade with a perfectly even rhythm.

I had no words, I simply watched her work for a moment and tried to ignore the strange, sour-sick tickle in the pit of my stomach.

After a moment, she stopped hammering the blade and with tongs plunged it into a vessel of water that immediately began bubbling and hissing with steam until the glowing red metal was cooled to the touch. She withdrew the now silver-colored blade, gave it a test swing, carried it over to a grindstone, and began sharpening it.

When she was finished with that, she touched the blade and slowly drew her fingers across it while speaking poetically in a language I didn't recognize. A pale blue light caved runes and designs in the blade before dating a moment after they stretched from hilt to tip. She then set it down and finally noticed me.

"Who in Hel are you?" She asked and I swallowed as I was forced to find my words.

"I am Maria Marshal of Midgard," I said as she extinguished her forge flame, "I am on a quest and I've been told to seek your—" My heart skipped a beat as she let down her hair and he face was suddenly framed by a long dark mane. "Seek your counsel."

"Why?" she asked as she removed her work gloves. "I'm not anyone special."

"I'm told you're knowledgable in how weapons and armor are forged," I explained. "Not just basic things, but the magic of forging powerful weapons."

"I do know that," she admitted. "Alright, come with me, I have a routine for when I finish my work for the day, but I can talk for most of it and you can ask me your questions then."

"More than reasonable," I agreed.

We left back through her family's home, with her telling her parents that she was taking me with her on her routine, and we walked through the village and up a gentle path that led a short way up the mountain.

"So are you the village smith?" I asked.

"Yes and no," she admitted, "I do work for my neighbors, but most of what I forge is supplying people in neighboring settlements. That sword you watched me finish was a commission for the son of the mayor of a small city about half a day's travel from here. Already paid for, it'll be sent out on a caravan in the morning."

"Interesting," I replied.

"No," she insisted, "it's... I'm better than this. Everyone here knows that I'm squandering my talents... I want to make something savage yet elegant. Sturdy yet swift. Strong, yet beautiful. A weapon worthy of the All-Father, and earn my place as a Goddess of The Forge."

"Your mother said as much," I acknowledged. "She also threatened to kill me if I got you hurt."

"You must have made a good impression on her," Kelda said with an adorable smile. "She only jokes like that with people she likes."

I decided not to say that it didn't seem like Rose had been joking and instead I pointed to the building we were approaching. It seemed like warm water from a spring further up the mountain was feeding into it or something. "Is this where we're going?"

"Yes," Kelda confirmed. "Now we can finish talking when the rinsing and grooming is done."

It was then that I realized that Kelda was leading me to a bathhouse of all places.

Ten minutes later I was staring very intently at my feet while sitting next to the shameless Nordic Amazon in a steam room and trying to ignore the fact that Brick House by the Commodores was playing in the back of my head.

"So, you were advised to seek my council on your quest," she said as if this was completely normal for her which... I guess it was if the bathhouse was here. "What is it that you... Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just... My first time in a steam room."

"Do they not do this on Midgard?"

"Not where I'm from, no," I said as tactfully as I could manage.

"Huh. Strange."

"So, you said you want to forge a weapon worthy of the All-Father... How about a weapon that rivals the All-Father."

I saw her leg tense up in the corner of my eye. "It could be done," she said, "but not at just any forge and you would need to have materials far more precious than mere steel."

"...What about," I began, "a tangible, living form of pure Anti-Life, one that can be either solid or liquid and that can assume almost any form and alter its properties? On that's been infused with a mortal metal that stores energy not unlike Uru does, as well as an element of darkness that commands infernal powers and has been saturated with many energies both sacred and profane besides?"

"I, I don't work with such things," Kelda said hesitantly. "But... I could. To forge such a weapon as that from such starting materials, they would need to be first cleaned."

"Cleaned?"

"Yes, but... not with ordinary water. You would need something potent, implacable. Something that even gods respect, something that would wash away all the flaws and impurities of the material and I know of no such liquid."

"I do," I said. "The Gods of Asgard are not the only Gods known on Midgard, and in my schooling, I learned of others, the Olympians." Time for a brief rundown of the origin story of Achilles. "One story told of how a minor sea goddess married a mortal King and bore him several demigod children but their sons kept dying young, so with the birth of their youngest son she stole him away in the night to the River Styx which marked the border between the lands of the living and the dead. Styx was the mightiest of all Rivers, on whose shores the Gods swore their oaths, and by bathing her son in its waters she washed away all the weakness within him leaving him impervious to mortal weapons save for his heel where she held him strong against the currents."

"...That would work, if you could find this river its waters would work," Kelda agreed. "Next, the forge would have to be lit with a powerful magical flame. Not just powerful, either, but pure. The flames of Muspelheim wouldn't work." I supposed that I'd have to do more questing to figure out a source of that. "Then, then you would have to smelt in the essence of life itself into the material," Kelda continued. "If it is anti-life, then this will balance it, but... The only thing I can think of that might work would be the golden apples that sustain the gods and you can't smelt an apple."

Middle school Greek Mythology month to the rescue again: "The Olympians have us covered again," I explained, "they sustained themselves on food and drink called nectar and ambrosia, which are much like the golden apples. When mortals consume it, they become gods or immortal, or their youth is restored. In some versions of the story of the demigod from earlier, after bathing him in the river his mother anointed him with ambrosia and then placed him in the hearth to burn away his mortality and cook its essence into him in an attempt to make him immortal as well as invulnerable."

"And you believe you could convince these Olympians to part with their divine sustenance?" Kelda questioned. She sounded skeptical but I could tell that she was getting excited.

"It'd depend on who I asked," I admitted, "but.. Maybe."

"Alright... The materials would have to be struck by a powerful smith a number of times that was magically significant," Kelda continued. "My target would be twenty-seven, as three is a powerful magical number and twenty-seven is three sets of three threes. And then... The forged weapon would have to be cooled with ice."

"Ice?"

"The universe was created in fire and ice," Kelda said poetically. "If strong enough magical ice is used, the symbolism of creation would vastly enhance the magics being worked... Tell me, Maria, what is this material you seek to forge a godly weapon with?"

"Me," I answered.

"You're going to have to explain that to me," came the reply, so I did.

I took the time to explain who and what I was, what I had done so far, and the different things I had assimilated to evolve. I explained my quest for apotheosis, and how I needed to be reforged like a weapon to be properly reborn as a god.

When I finished my explanation, Kelda lept up from the bench, pulled me up to join her, and stared into my eyes. "Maria Marshal of Midgard, I beseech you, let me come with you upon your quest!"

"Uh, sh-sure, okay?" I said awkwardly.

Kelda screamed with glee and my mind went fuzzy for a little bit as she suddenly pulled me into a bear hug.

When I came too I was back on the bench and Kelda was standing over me with a look of concern. "Are you alright? You lost your balance for a moment and you look quite flushed."

"Yeah... I'm fine" I said. "I'm just.."

"Ah, you're not used to the heat, are you? You said it was your first time in a steam bath."

"Yes," I lied through my teeth. "That."

"We should probably get you out of the heat then," she said with a smile and an outstretched arm offering to help me up.