The Hrímgard Legion hurtled multiple chains at Jalen in synchrony. The chains wrapped around his limbs, each limb hooked with 3 chains. 

“Pull!” The Hrímgard Legion screamed in unison.

Jalen tried to counteract their pulls, but the pain from the hooks that could surprisingly puncture his skin, and the force of three attackers pulling on each of his limbs, overwhelmed him. With grinding teeth, he managed to overcome the forces pulling on one arm. However, the immense tension his legs experienced deviated his attention.

Ahead, a man—the tallest and most built of the bunch—flew towards him with a morning star in hand, his speed increasing. Jalen aimed cosmic beams at the man, who didn’t flinch, using his morning star to shield himself. The man slammed, morning star first, into Jalen’s head, instantly knocking him out.

❊ ❊ ❊

Jalen slowly awoke from his slumber to find himself in a windowless metal room. Chains made of the same metal that pierced his god skin were wrapped around him in many passes and secured to the floor. Thankfully this time, rather than the hooks that sank into his skin, metal braces were fastened to his body—on his neck, wrists, and ankles. He pulled on metal, to no avail.

“Talk about an eventful first day,” he sighed. “What did I even do to warrant this?”

Genocidal thoughts about killing everyone responsible for restraining him surged through his mind. He did not know how much time passed here. Every second was vital in making sure he reached Earth within his sister’s lifespan. He flexed and pulled on the chains again.

Calm down. Calm down, he thought. Deep breaths.

He was stationed on a raised platform in the middle of a round room. A translucent energy shield encased his platform. Point defense weapons hung from the ceiling at intervals, all pointed at him. The walls had a metallic, matte sheen. Similar to the same metal that seemed to bypass his resistances. Jalen racked his brain, trying to remember its name. A member of the Hrímgard Legion had mentioned it during their fight.

Yes, adamant!

A door, hidden by thin seams, opened and three individuals entered. They all looked human as far as Jalen was concerned, except for the woman among them, who had pale blue skin and silver hair. The man with the morning star led the group. He stood about 7 feet tall, with beady eyes and a prominent red beard. On his back was a cap fashioned from wolf hide, the skull of the wolf resting upon his shoulder. Hooked at his belt was his black and silver morning star.

“None of this was necessary,” Jalen said, looking up at the group. “I meant you no harm.”

“Oh, the Útlendingr can use words,” the tall man bellowed, his voice deep and raspy. “Why, then, did you kill two of my men?”

 Jalen stared at the man, pondering the meaning of…

“He means outsider,” the woman said, her expressionless face regarding Jalen. “Útlendingr. Outsider. Are you?”

“Look, morning star man,” he said. “I only did what I did in self defense. You left me no other choice when you and your people ganged on me. I mean… What the fuck was that? Do you people not have procedures like finding out who someone is before trying to kill them?”

The man paced forward and stopped a few inches in front of Jalen. “Beings from the beyond are not to be reasoned with under any circumstances. You are lucky your biology proved useful. If not, I would have fed you to my wolves.”

“You know, I almost felt sorry for killing your men. If they weren’t so weak and useless, they’d be alive now.”

The man grabbed his morning star and reeled his arm back.

“Helblindi! Stay your hand,” the woman stepped forward. “And you. Consider your position. You are a prisoner of the Hrímgard Legion.”

Helblindi paced back and forth. “Lifthrasir, my intuition has never failed me. I say we gut the outsider right here, right now. Who knows what calamity he brings from the beyond?”

“Violence has already been used like a blunt weapon. It is not the answer anymore. Outsider, let us begin anew. What is your name?”

“Jalen,” Jalen answered. 

“Hmm, a familiar name. Why have you come into creation from the beyond, Jalen?”

“I was going home.”

“I see. Where is your home?”

“Ear—”

“I can’t believe you entertain this scoundrel,” Helblindi said. “Look at him. Does he look like a Jalen to you? Walder, what do you make of this nonsense?” 

“I concur,” the third man said. He wore long white robes similar to Lifthrasir. “He looks like a mix between a stone troll and a Gravēlkind. No offense, outsider.”

“None taken,” Jalen said. Although these people were wasting his time, he found them quite amusing.

“Exercise silence, Helblindi,” Lifthrasir said. “When you had your chance, you resorted to drawing your weapon. What do you see, Walder? Is he telling the truth?”

“I’m afraid, not much.” Walder stepped into Jalen’s view. “The walls of his mind are unshielded. Yet I can not perceive intent. Only his surface thoughts, devoid of the usual context.”

“All the more reason we should gut him here,” Helblindi said.

“We will do no such thing,” Lifthrasir said. “He will hold council with the Hrímþursar Tribunal.”

Helblindi hissed and opened the door. “You fucking bureaucrats never get it. If he comes back to bite us, I will have your head, Lifthrasir.” 

With that, he shut the door behind him.

Jalen wondered where this place was and who these people were. Their names sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Is it possible to schedule my meeting with the high council for today? I’m pressed for time,” Jalen asked.

“And why is that, Jalen?” Lifthrasir drew closer, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you in a hurry?” 

“I have mortal people I care about. I wish to see them in a timely manner.”

“Ah, I see.”

The door opened once more. This time, large ash-skinned humanoids with long arms stepped in, their gaits heavy and slow.

Trolls?

The energy shield dispersed. Immediately, the suspended automated turrets projected targeting lasers on him. Jalen suspected it was an intimidation tactic, letting him know to behave while the trolls released him.

“We shall move you to the ice citadel, Jalen,” Lifthrasir said. “I will see what I can do about your request. Please behave.”

❊ ❊ ❊

Jalen gazed out the window of a transport shuttle hurtling through the frost-fogged airspace above a frozen continent. He could hardly make out what lay below the clouds and chilly mist that tag teamed to hide the land below. 

A large troll stepped in front of the window, smirking with its yellowed teeth as it blocked Jalen’s view. Five trolls were standing around him, each holding chains that hung from his limbs and neck. Jalen returned a smirk to the prodding troll. Lifthrasir had told him what they were when he inquired.

Earlier, he found that the metal restricted his powers. It wasn’t his intention to break free… yet. But he tried to summon his cosmic rays to no avail. His hope now lay in the Hrímþursar Tribunal.

The shuttle began to descend. The trolls grabbed onto handholds with their off hands to steady themselves. 

“I’ll strip your hide if you try anything funny,” the troll at the window growled, its breath alone a reverberating rumble.

The hatches of the shuttle opened, and the trolls led Jalen into a violent snowstorm. The path ahead was snow-logged by several inches and obscured by a thick mist of snowfall propelled by rampaging winds. Yet the trolls and Jalen easily pushed through. 

They trekked until Jalen spotted something in the distance. It was a massive black wall stretching into the sky.

At the base of the wall, a giant stood clad in shiny, dark blue armor, wielding a massive pole arm. His legs alone were towering tree trunks that dwarfed Jalen and the trolls. An open-face helm protected his head, revealing a pale blue face and dark blue eyes.

Jalen was confident about who these people were. Helblindi? Lifthrasir? Trolls? And now frost giants?

This is kinda amazing. 

“State your business,” the frost giant spoke with a booming, baritone tone.

The troll that had blocked Jalen’s view on the shuttle stepped forward. “I am Fjalltusk, in possession of Jalen, an outsider, who seeks counsel with the Hrímþursar Tribunal.”

“He does not look much like an outsider. Anyway,” the frost giant tapped his pole arm on the black ice wall two times.

There was a loud thud, then deep rumbling noises as the colossal double doors opened inward. Jalen passed by the frost giant, marveling at the fact his god form’s height only amounted to the giant’s shin. Of course, from the perspective of his true form, even this planet was miniscule. Nevertheless, it was enjoyable to experience these sensations after being alone for a million years.

If outside the Citadel brought howling frozen winds and snow-capped terrain; inside was a simmering pot of activity. Jötunn—the name of their kind relayed by Lifthrasir—in all shapes and sizes, from human look-alikes to giants and everything in between, went about their business. Most of them wore the dark blue suits of the Hrímgard Legion. Jalen gazed up at the high ceilings decorated by crystal chandeliers and old Norse symbols and glyphs. A significant portion of the traffic flew above, some even conversing with the giants.

The Jötunn on the ground moved aside as he walked by, displaying evident curiosity on their faces. Jalen enjoyed the scenery, but it was time for business now. Time was ticking. He was led into a holding hall with a few other waiting Jötunn. This room, other than being tall and wide enough to accommodate frost giants like every room in this citadel, had walls made of bare black ice. Most rooms he passed through had fur or wooden wall paneling. The waiting Jötunn were nervous and fidgety.

“Jalen the outsider,” a hill giant dressed in black and red clothing said. “The Hrímþursar Tribunal will see you now.”

That was fast.

The trolls tugged on Jalen, pulling him towards the massive opening door. 

The council room had a floor made of gleaming black ice, with detailed engravings depicting a complex interstellar constellation. On the wooden walls, an impressive display of mounted weapons caught his eye, accompanied by paintings depicting epic events and the heads of mythical creatures—some familiar, others unknown.

Seated on both sides of him were three frost giants each. At the end of the room, the most beautiful frost giant he had ever seen sat on an ice throne. She wore robes of silk and fur. On her head sat a thorny gold crown accentuating her dazzling silver hair. She rested her arm on the arm support of her throne; her questioning gaze on Jalen. Two hill giants, chained and on all fours, stood beside her.

“Begin, Lawspeaker,” she commanded.

“As you please, high queen,” the Lawspeaker said. He was the thinnest amongst the frost giants and sat closest to the high queen on her right. “We will begin by listening to the accounts of the Hrímgard Legion that encountered the outsider.”

Jalen glanced to his left. The surviving Hrímgard Legion he fought that day were seated along with Lifthrasir and Halder. The scowling face of Helblindi burned with hatred at him. Jalen smirked. The Hrímgard Legion, one after the other, gave their accounts about what had transpired. One of the common themes they expressed was their concern about how powerful and dangerous he was. These retellings caused the counselors to regard Jalen in a new light. The high queen’s expression remained neutral.

It was Helblindi’s turn to give an account, and Jalen almost balked at the flamboyant gait the Jötunn adopted. When Helblindi reached the center, he went down on one knee and spoke loud and clear.

“Greetings, my esteemed mother, Laufey, high queen of all of Hrímgard…”

The queen smiled.

Helblindi seasoned his retelling of the encounter with blatant exaggeration regarding any action he took. Jalen was growing impatient. When Helblindi returned to his seat, he made sure to pass by Jalen.

“You will fail, you fucking Útlendingr,” Helblindi whispered.

“Take a seat, redheaded pussy,” Jalen replied immediately.

The Jötunn ground his teeth and cursed on his way to his seat.

There was a moment of quiet as the counselors deliberated amongst themselves. The queen did not include herself in this discussion. Jalen was wondering when he’d get to defend himself.

“By unanimous decree of the high council,” The Lawspeaker proclaimed. “I Jokull, Lawspeaker of the Hrímþursar Tribunal, thereby sent—”

“Let the outsider have his say,” Queen Laufey said.

“As… as you please, high queen.”

The trolls dragged Jalen to the room’s center. Queen Laufey and the counselors gazed down at him.

“Prostrate yourself before the high queen,” Fjalltusk said.

Jalen looked up at the high queen and actually considered bowing down. It could increase his chances if he pleased the queen. If he was in his human form, perhaps he would have swallowed his pride and done so. However, coursing within was the life force of Cosmonar. He would bow to no one.