After the end times

Three winters after Ragnarök, peace among the Realms finally seemed possible, but like all good things, it had to be earned the hard way. Surtr was banished to Muspelheim's deepest dungeons and the fire giants were put in their place by Odin. He made sure the frost giants also stayed in their realm. There was little to no protest, because they knew what, or rather who, would await them if they tried to destroy the world once again. Speaking about that, Odin's crows did indeed find the saviour they sought after all. Luckily, the Æsir, as far as Yrsa knew, didn't fear her and wish to have her bound in chains like Fenrir. They were most grateful and happy to be alive.

The tale spread out before it could be silenced and quickly grew into songs and sagas. Every man and woman of the Realms knew who rescued them from Ragnarök, from death. Yrsa didn't like the attention at all, but even she couldn't deny that Lífvörður, guardian of life, sounded quite lovely.

The sentient creature still resided within the boundaries of her soul and had no intention or means of disappearing any time soon. Yrsa didn't fear her powers, but they were too much for one person to possess, so she made them mostly dormant and hidden deep within. Recreating the universe did take out a lot of her strength though, so she could never again reach such potential. Not in the next few centuries, at least.

As for Skadi, she was warming up to the idea of her lover being a hero and saviour of worlds. She became something of a guardian herself, teaching Dáinn the mystic ways and bringing him along on her quests.

Dáinn found his calling running with the wolves, literally. On a trip to Jötunheim with Skadi, they were approached by a small pack of frost wolves. They were war beasts, bred for destruction and fighting, almost as big as a grown horse. Their eyes were two white, glowing orbs that came from Ymir's tears, as the tales say. The beasts were abandoned though, due to their inability to fight or be ridden.

Three of them, out of many that were probably roaming the icy lands, were brought home. Dáinn named them accordingly.

Askr, an ashen coloured wolf who was missing an eye and had many scars across his back. He was the calmest and sleepiest of the three and loved running in the forest.

The dark grey one was Ótti. At first glance there was nothing wrong, but were you to look closer, you'd notice he had a limp, although it didn't prevent him doing whatever he wanted. Especially jumping on whoever looked in his direction, looking for cuddles.

The last was Dys. She had thick, white fur and, judging by her size, she was younger than the others.

Despite their appearance, they were no different than dogs when it came to every day life, but whenever there was a threat, they were quick to show their teeth and protect their new home.

All was looking well, finally, but even in good times one must not let their guard down for too long. Danger has a way of always lurking nearby, especially when it is unseen and unexpected, and in a world filled with monstrous beings and deadly creatures, you never know what the Norns have in store, or destiny, for that matter.