Odin turned his gaze to the old Icy Realm or what remained of it after he'd sealed away the Frost Giants and battled Ymir. It was a place of preservation and stillness, of eternity made manifest.
But it needed to become something more. The opposite of Muspelheim but it should also be complementary with it, the other half of the equation.
He reached toward it with movements that had become ritual. Gestures repeated through the creation of each realm, refined with practice, heavy with a bit of weariness.
"Niflheim." Odin whispered with the Icy Realm shake and trembling.
Niflheim responded more slowly than Muspelheim had. Where the fire realm had erupted with enthusiasm, the ice realm transformed with a slow calm.
Preservation was its nature after all.
The eternal frost remained, but its quality shifted. Ice began to gain purpose beyond simply existing with each crystal formation that grew according to principles that transcended mere physics.
