You didn't remember the last time you've felt the connection to your giant heritage.

Golden blood ran down your arms, seeped into the torn bandages that you desperately wanted to get rid off. It felt like the fabric melted with your skin and stuck to it like to an open wound.

The ravens crowed. Their heads flinched as if they were in distress. Obviously that was the behaviour of living being, however, these creatures weren't made of flesh and bones.

They were the Allfathers creation.

And just like him they had the ability to deceive.

Like moths to the flame, they were drawn to the shimmer of your blood that painted the surface of the ankle deep water.

It seemed almost as if they wanted something from you. Perhaps the breath from your lungs. Or even the heart inside your chest.

Two of them drew circles above your head. The sound of their wings was like a song of death that drilled itself into your skull.

All the hairs on your body stood up straight. It made your stomach twist. Your throat itched with the urge to throw up.

But you kept yourself together while the ravens started to merge before your eyes.

Pale green light turned into poisonous shimmer. A veil of something fog-like spread.

One breath was enough to make you jumped back and press a hand to your nose. It made your eyes water and burn like sand.

Whatever this was it wasn't meant to be close to living beings. It was meant to kill. Or neutralise.

And you knew very well that you weren't meant to be alive. At least not in the eyes of the Allfather. To him, your heritage was supposed to be extinct. And yet here you were alive as imaginable, breathing, hating, even bleeding.

The light grew until the ceiling of the cave seemed to melt under the heat. Small drops of liquidised stones rained down on you.

As it touched the bandages on your limbs, the fabric burned and curled to reveal the shedded skin of yours beneath.

Struck by both pain and surprised, you flinched and tore the bandages off. Surprised, you froze.

Through the veil of burning tears that filled your irritated eyes, you dared to believe that you could see your skin. Not the human disguise but the one you had been born with.

Dark, night sky blue. You once had carried tattoos on your arms, painted with silver ink. Some lines seemed to have returned.

But perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you. A few shreds of (S/C) human skin were still visible after all so it couldn't have meant that you returned to the giant form you had lost so many eons ago.

All of a sudden the bright light faded. A gush of air swept away the cloud of gas and revealed a sight that made your blood freeze inside your veins.

There he was, the Allfather, king of gods. He stood right in front of you, his usually hate filled eyes clouded with a strange shimmer, milky almost, broken like the ones of the dead.

The entire figure was made of greenish something. It appeared to be glass yet it wasn't as consistence. At the same time it looked like a hand would go right through.

The temperature in the cave dropped.

Your entire body started to freeze. Along that the water around your feet felt like it wanted to pierce your skin, eat away at your flesh and make it peel off your body.

What was that?

Why did you feel like your body wanted to melt?

Why did your mind fear that your shell was about to fall apart just because of this creature?

It was a threat. You were supposed to either flee or fight it. But somehow it made you want to stay and see what you could turn into.

The giant part of you raged inside your deepest. But the human that had grown on you feared to fade away. Just like your true self once before.

With its lips pressed tightly shut, the strange being raised its head, slow and almost lazily, to meet your gaze with this strangely disgusting eyes of milk.

As your eyes met, you had to swallow hard. Your legs froze while your hands clenched into fists.

"Do you talk?", you asked, both out of curiosity and fear that there was no compassion to be found inside this being at all.

The head moved. Eyes narrowed and an expression of confusion appeared.

It was obvious that this wasn't the Allfather himself. Judging by the fact that this form had been created by the ravens, you assumed that it was also bound by their consciousness.

And it was an open secret that the ravens of the Allfather weren't happy with their master. Slaves, that was what Tyr had called them many times. Slaves of Odin's will.

Perhaps they once had been human, cursed to serve the king of gods until he deemed them no longer useful.

Either way, maybe it was possible to talk to them. Or convince just enough to make them falter and fall apart.

Swallowing hard, you gathered all your courage and straightened your back to appear calm. The beating of your heart was up in your throat. Beads of sweat ran down the side of your temple.

You couldn't let them know that you feared. It fed into the enemies confidence, just one of many lessons Tyr had taught you.

Out of reflex, your hand slipped to the side of your pants and reached into the pocket to feel if there was a weapon to wrap your fingers around.

A knife. Tyr's knife.

You grabbed it, but did not make a move to attack.

First you wanted to know just how much of intelligence and free will was in front of you.

Every evil with a consciousness had compassion. Some less, some more, but it always was inside of them.

Only those who were mere mindless products were truly dangerous without a doubt.

And you needed to find out if there was a chance to turn Odin's own slaves against him.

"Do you talk?", you asked once more, calm and clear. "Do you suffer?"