THE WORLD OF GIANTS AND GODS
Norse mythology begins with a telling of the start of things, of how a world of chaos and nothingness transformed into something formed and meaningful. These origin stories are vital—not just to Norse mythology, but to all cultures—because they carry within them a culture’s idea of how order rises from chaos.
In the Norse worldview, this story begins far to the north, in a place where life was hard and nature could be cruel. And it starts with two primal realms. On one side was Niflheim, a land of primordial ice, fog, and darkness. On the other was Muspelheim, a realm of fire, heat, and intensity. Neither of these two extremes could support life. But in between them was a vast, empty space—Ginnungagap, the great yawning void.
From the beginning of time, the crystals of ice from Niflheim drifted into Ginnungagap, meeting the roaring flames from Muspelheim. Out of this meeting—this clash of opposites—something new began to emerge.
From this collision came the first being: Ymir, a massive and grotesque frost giant, the first of the Jotnar, the race of giants. His world would be Jotunheim, a realm of giants and, in time, trolls—a place seen as wild, threatening, and unpredictable. (The word Heim in Norse means home.)
But Ymir was not alone for long. From the same forces that created him came another being—a hornless, cosmic ice cow, named Auðumbla. Though gentle in nature, she was powerful, and from her udders flowed four rivers of frothy milk, enough to nourish Ymir, who drank deeply and grew strong.
In time, Ymir fell into a deep sleep. And from his armpits, a male and female Jotun came into being. From his feet, a six-headed troll emerged. With every move Ymir made, more giants were created. Creation, it seems, sometimes arises from the most unexpected places.
Auðumbla, meanwhile, began licking the salty ice. At first, this act seemed mundane—but it was not without purpose. From the ice she licked, a head of hair began to appear… then a face, shoulders, arms, and finally, an entire human form.
But this was no ordinary creation. It was not a making from nothing, but more of an uncovering—as though something had been trapped in the ice and was now being revealed. Unlike Ymir, this new figure was handsome and noble, and he would soon have a son—one even more radiant. That son’s name was Búri.
And here, another idea emerges—one of recreation, or rebirth—something ancient being uncovered and brought back into the world. This theme of emergence and frozen time reawakening is central to Norse cosmology.
Búri would eventually take a wife—a beautiful Jotun woman descended from Ymir. Together, they had three sons, born of both order and chaos. These sons were radiant and bright, and they would go on to light up the darkness. They were the first of the Aesir gods.
With them, a new world was born—Asgard, the realm of the gods.
These three sons were Odin, the god of spirit; Hoenir, the god of will; and Lóðurr, the god of warmth and red blood. These were the first gods of the Norse cosmos, and they carried within them the power to create more worlds. They were, in every sense, world-makers.
So out of the strange unions of ice and fire, of cow and giant, of light and darkness—Asgard came into being.
Yet even though the young gods had a Jotun mother, they developed a deep hatred for the giants. Ymir, who had always been rough and wild, had grown even more unruly in his old age. And the young gods, filled with disdain, acted on that hatred.
They killed Ymir and pushed his dead body into Ginnungagap. From his wounds, new worlds emerged. But in his death, a great flood also burst forth—it drowned Auðumbla, the cosmic cow, and nearly all the Jotnar. Only Bergelmir and his wife survived, escaping in a boat to the edge of the world.
The gods did not pursue them.
Jotunheim remained, but now shrunken and distant—pushed to the margins of the cosmos. The young gods now had a task: to continue their creation—to make the world, and eventually, to populate it.
This moment marks an important turning point. The theme of world-making emerges clearly. From here, the Aesir would go on to form the realms we know: the world of the gods (Asgard), the world of the giants (Jotunheim), and deep below, the primordial realms of Niflheim and Muspelheim, where it all began.
And so begins the Norse cosmos—with giants, gods, and the fragile balance between chaos and creation.
