Chapter Text
Way before Jack Frost was...well Jack Frost, he went by other names. Many cultures and tribes had a name for him, the ice spirit that wandered through starting the winter season, the winter god that reigned over their lands. One particular culture he held near and dear to his heart even today. It's been years since he's seen all of them, smiling and cheering in victory. Oh the parties Vikings could hold! They were a strong tribe, filled with powerful warriors. It was that same tribe that allowed him to join them, not as their Winter God, but as a friend.
Jack smiled down at the symbol he drew in the snow. He once wore this symbol with pride and honor.
He put a hand in the snow, right below the symbol, as if he could reach out to the tribe that was long dead. Sure, they live on in their descendants, but nothing beats the original people he saw as his first true family.
But to tell Jack's story, we have to go further back than when he first met the tribe. Oh no. We have to go much further. We have to go to the point where Jack was not Jack. Back before he became a Winter Spirit named Jack Frost. When he was the Winter God. When he was Jokul Frosti. The very winter god who agreed to the dying wish of one Bewilderbeast, a Class 10 Tidal Dragon named Inger.