A flashback presented Alicia Crimsonmane in her routine, entering a classroom teeming with kindergarten students. The little ones had recently finished their lunch break, and as they saw the enchanting girl donning spectacles, her infectious smile and bag in tow, they swarmed around her like a cloud of insects drawn to the sweetest nectar in the garden.

"Huzzah! The storyteller’s coming!" shouted a rather delinquent child, igniting the excitement of the others.

"Miss Alicia is here! Miss Alicia is here!" chorused another child.

"Miss Alicia! What epics do you want to tell us today?”

She had just walked in, but she was already overwhelmed by the kids surrounding her. With a grin, she playfully addressed them, "Oh! No way. How could the snotty bairns surround me so? There's no chance you lot shall overcome me!"

"Charge! Defeat the giant with your swords!" the children shouted, their spoons brandished as claymores. Their imaginative play grew increasingly animated as they enacted the defeat of "The Giant".

"Ah, no...! I have lost! I’m about to fall!" Alicia made a dramatic kneeling gesture and gradually lowered herself to the ground, signalling the defeat of the giant to the valiant army of knights. The children chortled and cheered as they sat down on the floor alongside the girl.

A few kids tugged at Alicia's school uniform. "Miss Alicia! Don't just lie there! Come, tell us something!"

"Don't want to!" Alicia pointed to a spoon belonging to one of the students. "Unless we make a truce! Sheath your swords and return them to the chest!"

A bunch of astute bairns, indeed. Responsively, they dispersed, packed their lunches, and sat quietly, waiting for the bespectacled inspector to pass the tidiness and cleanliness criteria to their respective tables.

Now that the class had become a proper one, Alicia approached the teacher at the front, exchanging warm greetings. She took centre stage, placing her bag down and carefully extracting the wooden figures, one by one, onto the table.

"New toys!" some of them seemed excited.

“No, these are not just toys, dear,” Alicia replied. “These are historical figures. See this one-eyed, half-naked old man here? This is Wuotan. And this ruddy-bearded lad wielding a mighty hammer? This is Donar. Then the beautiful woman riding the wild boar—you call her, Frouwa."

Those seated were unfamiliar with such names mentioned earlier. Alicia understood their mannerism.

"Do you know what epic I'm about to tell you?"

"We don't, Miss Alicia!"

"Then listen closely, my dears," Alicia began with a glint in her eye, "for the story I'm about to tell you is not just any story. It is a saga, a tale of war and destiny, of ancient nations clashing in a fierce feud. It is a tale of the Æsir and the Vanir."

Alicia raised the figure of Wuotan and the other two figures. “Introducing Wuotan, Willihelm, and Willo. They were the founders of a small tribe, home to fierce and formidable warriors! They called themselves the Ans.

"The Ans did a massive expansion to the eastern peninsula of Europa, a snowfield, the home of the Children of Svyatogor, the race of towering beings."

"Giants!"

"Giant, aye. A known anthropomorphic race besides humans, elves, and dwarves! While the Ans gave birth to mighty warriors, they were not solely barbarians. Their untamed nature and sense of ethics were tempered and guided by the wisdom of the three brothers. Without them, the true Ans people would have been like sheep without shepherds. Although they were not sheep, but rather, wild canines. Nonetheless, in the eyes of other tribes, they were still seen as barbarians. The men were maddened by war, even desiring to create a utopia where people could slay each other but never die. They called it the Walhalle—the Hall of Bloodbath. Many kept their distance from this tribe, yet some couldn't help but admire them. The giants were among those groups, requesting to unite under the banner of the mighty Ans. Thus, the Ans, once a nameless grassland settlement, ascended to become a noble kingdom!

"However, there was another kingdom, famous for its strength." Alicia's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "The people who called themselves Vanir, the race of beauties and elves, living in the magical wilderness named Vanaheim—Home of the Vanir men. Vanir was a single monarchy with incomparable weapons of war. Why, you ask? Because Vanir had something that Ans didn't have: magical power. And the Ans desired magic to tread more land. To realise the Walhalle.

"As the purest and wisest of the race—so they claimed—the Vanir, too, held a tinge of admiration towards the Ans. Their poets even called them in their tongue, Æsir—the throng of gods. But they were warmongering yet unwitted sorts, and Vanir felt concerned for such gods. Would they continue to strain their mighty strength plundering more civilisations and if so, for what? Solely to satisfy their lust for war and robbery?

Seeing these dilapidated human beings, they couldn't help but think that the human race outside Vanir was destined that way. Galloping from land to land and leaving anything but life and order. Then they thought, 'Maybe we don't need to attack them. We can teach them our lifestyle, teach them science, and a little magic. Surely their destiny could change without bloodshed! We believe they can find peace with nature, just as humans and elves of Alfheim here do!'

"So it was that Fruowa, a respected figure among the Vanir, was dispatched to traverse the Bifrost, the bridge of millions of colours, which separated the centre of Ans civilisation, The Ans' Court, from the outside world. Fruowa assorted with the Ans and lived with them. But who would have thought, she loved the people of Ans, despite being despised by the world itself? The Ans might find killing and looting their passions, yet they possessed a strong sense of kinship and esteemed social values. Fruowa had never witnessed such cohesion, not even within the revered elven sanctum."

"The more confident she was in magic, Fruowa hoped the Ans would stop their useless conquest and live with contentment without worrying about their needs. Perhaps she could make the nation live happily ever after! So Fruowa came as a teacher, teaching science, magic, and the ideal lifestyle according to the Vanir customs. And indeed, when they became acquainted with magic, the desire to raid villages and plunder settlements began to be suppressed. In fact, they could make anything possible with magic.

"Alas, the Ans were too complacent with the knowledge taught to them. They were rather greedier than usual. The elves might be wise, but not impeccable. Their calculations were missed. Once shed blood and sweat in pursuit of bliss, when they had a steady life, they were even more sinking into a pit of misery. They wanted more food, more gold, more power, and more indecent thoughts to be granted.

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"The greed of the Ans destroyed their own people. They clashed, fighting over resources and magic. The atmosphere of brotherhood that used to be firm was now being torn apart by fellow countrymen. The kingdom began to divide.

"To overcome the deepening divisions, the three brothers delivered advice. Fruowa was accused of infiltration at the behest of Vanir. She was considered to have intentionally given the Ans magical powers so that they could be destroyed from within. Wuotan, in his rage, came to the princess's residence personally and threw a spear into her heart!”

The children gasped.

“Miss Alicia, that's horrible!”

“That so? But Fruowa didnae die!”

“Oh, really?”

“That mage had too many loopholes to allow herself to die from a spear. Wuotan was frustrated. Not giving up, he sentenced the princess to be burned alive!

"This baseless accusation broke the princess's heart. She pleaded in confusion as the flames devoured her. She sobbed loudly in deep sorrow when she was burned a second time.

"But the third time the fire spread to her body, she dissolved into wrath. True, Fruowa was burned three times, yet her soul remained in her beings. Giving up on the Ans, she purposely released herself from the shackles and then disappeared from the Ans crowd...

"It turned out to be in accordance with public opinion. The Ans could not be saved. Their blood was cursed from the nativity. Nature's mistake when creation took place. So it was the task of Vanir to quell the infelicity of this realm. The Ans must be annihilated! They had to before The Ans reached their land, and then, the entire World! Thus the preparation began; they crafted instruments of judgment from their esteemed magical essence: the Divine might, pure Arcane. Unbeknownst to the Vanir, the giants of the Ans alliance had actually learned black magic from Khaos, and spread it throughout the people—"

A child interrupted Alicia, "Miss Alicia! Who was the first to use Khaos' magic?"

"That's for another story, Herod," replied Alicia. "Now, shall we continue the story again?"

There was dissatisfaction from the wondering little boy. But the story was about to enter the climax. He nodded in agreement.

"Fine, let us continue. So. Where were we? The war was inevitable! The Ans came from the land of ice and snow, from the midnight sun where hot springs blew. They were led by Wuotan's son Donar, oaring to Vanir. They shouted blazing screams, raising their hammers so that a wild smouldering passion would drive their ships to new lands—lands of evergreen Vanir.

"The people of Vanir greeted them with a hail of spears in the middle of the ocean. The Walküren, led by Fruowa herself, strode with their flying horses, choosing those to be slain under the sky. They chose all of them. Curses rained them like a downpour! Ans arrows couldn't reach the sky too high, but Walküre's spears could plunge deep into the deepest layers of the earth.

"But Ans welcomed all of them with joy. Their fighter nature was released once more thanks to Khaos' magic. They rowed the ships while fighting off the Vanir hordes, singing and crying "Walhalle, I'm coming!”

"Njord, one of Vanir's superiors and Frouwa's father, awakened the sea, creating a colossal wave to drown them all. Then Skadi, his wife, shot her arrows to turn the vast ocean that engulfed the Ans' ships into a giant block of ice! Such extraordinary magic was made possible thanks to the pure Arcane flowing in their veins. But that didn’t mean the people of Vanir were allowed to boast alone. It was an error on their part in the first place to teach magic to the opposing party.

"Black ink oozed from the skin of Wuotan's hand, casting dark magic on his spear. He created a spell that could make his raven-spear, Gungnir, pierced the flesh of the elves to the world’s ends! Nothing could ever stop his mighty javelin other than a command from the one-eyed himself!

"His son, Donar, summoned bolts of lightning and gathered them to his hammer. He inherited the Thunderkeeper’s magic to donate flashes of sky electricity directly to his foe-men! Not to mention the giant representative, Logi, the giant with brotherly accord with Wotan in blood, blurring the elves' vision, making them see each other as Ans warriors, thereby slaughtering each other! Wotan's other brothers, Willihelm and Willo, aided the battle by eradicating the enemy's intelligence and sensory abilities, making the Vanir elves look like war puppets. This great battle became a flaunter for both sides to show their extraordinary magic!

"And so the Ans' fleets kept coming from the snowy east lands for years. As they continued to sweep the water with their threshing oars, their only goal was the Western Shore.

"The Vanir continued to hold them at sea, even though the lands of the West and the East were not far apart. But all the same, they still didn’t feel safe. Exiting the shores of Vanir meant dealing with the fleshy, corrosive souls of the Ans. The influence of Khaos also began to permeate Vanaheim's border wall. Panic broke out among the residents. They started to lose faith in their might, even in pure Arcane. Understanding the elves' desperation, Frouwa left the battle and chose another way. She headed for the source of pure Arcane might in Vanir—a gigantic tree called the Tree of Life and Knowledge. She and the other two witches plucked its flowers and made threads from them."

She lowered the wooden statue of Frouwa. Alicia took out another object from her bag—a yarn spool. She pulled a string and stretched it out long.

"See this thread? Long ago, the elves had a forbidden mystical knowledge called Seidr. This is high-level ancient magic, children. They know not just the future with a yarn. By knitting threads with Arcane might in them, they can manipulate the fate of a person or a nation. They can control the future, and determine the life span of a creature. With this magic, they are the gods of tomorrow with prophecies, blessings, and curses! Witches with threads. Do you remember the person who was described as such in our previous storytelling?"

The dark-skinned girl stood up instead of raising her hands in excitement. "Och! Och! I know," she said, "Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Three twin witches from Eretopeion!”

“Smart lass!” commended Alicia. “This is an ancient spell that should not be cast haphazardly. Only issued in the most emergency. So this is one of the forbidden spells. But if she wanted Vanir to survive, she had no choice but to use it.

"Fruowa and his two maids knit the Arcane threads. Each connected thread signified the flow of one event to another of one’s fate. Fruowa wanted the Ans and Vanir to make peace someday, then the nation of Ans ought to be destroyed in this realm, no matter what.

"And the spell worked! Moments after the spell was activated, the elders from Vanir and Ans decided to have a truce to halt the never-ending war. The Ans had to accept themselves purified with Arcane to remove the influence of Khaos. Everyone accepted it, except for the giants, the avatars of Khaos in their midst. They thought the Three Brothers had lost their way, and threatened to restore the banner of Ans might under the rule of the Children of Syvatogor. Since the Ans people were all unworthy to hold the Arcane might, they inevitably had to face their own brethren with the power of Khaos as well.

"The Vanir couldn't help much due to the heavy war losses. They left Ans alone. The giants took control and slaughtered the Ans people. One by one, the Ans conquered lands were fallen to the giants’ hands. How soft was the Ans field; even in snow, yet so green, they whispered tales of gore. The blood was shed by the Ans warriors who declared the tides of war but then were calmed by the giants. Eventually, the Children of Syvatogor claimed to be the overlord of the East.

"Not a single human being was left alive because they thought they were weak, easily disoriented creatures. In the end, when a gigantic army emerged from the southern plains of Asgard, Wuotan, Willihelm, and Willo summoned Khaos and succumbed to it. Khaos smirked at them. It devoured The Ans' Court and its inhabitants in the darkness, to the eternal void. The leader of the giants, Zortorv, launched a mass slaughter of the remnants of the Ans population that was not embraced by Khaos. Thus, the Infamous Ans were no more, replaced by the cruel giants. The only fertile land belonging to Ans was gone, merging with the land of the giants through the endless snowfall.

"After hearing such news, Fruowa and the two witches regretted their decision. They ran away from Vanir, tore off their luxurious clothes, and decided to torture themselves in exile for the rest of their lifetime. This was penance for playing god. They indirectly had committed genocide against a nation with the holiest power in the world of thaumaturgy, acting as a “fair” judge for a time. Pure Arcane, like Khaos, possesses immense might and enables them to do things beyond human imagination. Tormented by hatred, Fruowa changed the destiny of an entire nation, not caring if each person was guilty or not. Is divine might that terrible to change the destiny of everything?

"Or… with or without Seidr, one’s destiny has actually been designed since the creation of space and time?” []