(For Chuck Wendig’s writing challenge week of Feb. 8, 2016—my roll got me a combo of time travel and mythology, so here we go!)
Hafvilla. (n.) Norse.
The state of feeling bewildered while lost at sea.
Lex faced the camera and smiled. “Next, on Arcane Fortunes with Lex Colson, I’ll
set forth on my own journey to test the accuracy of the long-rumored sunstone.
Did the Vikings succeed in navigating on cloudy days because of them?” He held
the chunk of calcite up to the sky. “It’s a perfect day to test out our theory,
so let’s find out!”
Lex gestured to cut the film. “I feel ridiculous in this
outfit. This is like a Renn fest for fur fetishists.”
The cameraman burst into laughter. “Dude, you look amazing!
The Vikings would think you’re one of them. Hoist that drinking horn high and
make a toast to Odin!”
“Ha. Funny guy. I’m hardly worthy of a journey to Valhalla.”
“Don’t I know it, bro. That five-star hotel back in the city
already has your champagne cooled. Hardly a warrior’s abode.”
“Hey, ease up. I’m planning on proposing to Jenny under the
northern lights after we film this; give me a break!”
“Whatever. Just look good for the shot.”
With the obligatory b-roll shots taken, Lex made sure the
cameras on his replica ship were secured. “Okay, so I’ll take a spin out there
for a bit and be right back for the next scene.”
Steve waved and set his video equipment down. “Don’t go too
far out, son. You know you can’t swim.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll catch a walrus for you.”
Lex dipped the oar into the water and pushed. The serenity
of the drifting boat made him pause and enjoy the scene. The rough Norwegian
landscape made for one of the most beautiful episodes he’d ever filmed, and he
was looking forward to the results.
A low mist crept across the water. The wind was light; no
storm approached. Lex let the boat drift further into the fogbank. “This is
perfect. Just the shot I need!”
He held the sunstone up to the clouds and faced the camera.
“As you can see, the sun is completely blocked out now. Yet, if I hold the
calcite up just so, a line of light catches on this mark here, showing I’m
moving northwest. While this makes navigating across the Atlantic much more
plausible when we consider the Vikings, it doesn’t mean it was easy, even in
their seaworthy dragon ships. They were always one storm away from Valhalla!”
Amused, Lex ended the shot. He rowed out further to capture
additional footage. He wasn’t aware of time passing until a flash of silver
light rippled over the water. His gaze shot to the sky, but it was still foggy.
“Steve! Steve!”
No voice came from the shore.
“Steve?”
Lex rowed in earnest, eager to make his way back. “Oh man,
we still have several more scenes to do, and all those people in costume in the
mead hall waiting on our dime. Damn it!”
Just when his heart began to pound in panic, the shore came
into view. The crew was nowhere to be found. He jumped ship and pulled it up
the shore alone. “All swilling mead by now, I bet,” Lex said. “Here I come,
guys, fill my flagon!” He hoisted the drinking horn to the air.
He passed a wooden rack with fish dangling from it. He
pulled the small camera out of his pocket for an impromptu shot. “Did you know
the Vikings cured their fish by the sea?
Nothing better than fresh salt air to season the fish!”
Nothing better than fresh salt air to season the fish!”
A group of men stood nearby in full costume. Lex whistled.
“Wow, you guys look so authentic—great job! Look at those beards!” He clapped a
man on the shoulder as he walked by. “Very cool, bros. Love the axes, too. You
borrow them from that show about Ragnar Lothbrook?”
Lex walked to the grand long house and whistled again.
“Place looks more amazing every time I see it. I’ll be damned if this episode
doesn’t earn us an award.”
He entered the building and stood, stunned. “Fuck me—if this isn’t a scene right out of Beowulf. Did I land on a movie set? Hey, who’s the director around here? I think I’m lost.”
He entered the building and stood, stunned. “Fuck me—if this isn’t a scene right out of Beowulf. Did I land on a movie set? Hey, who’s the director around here? I think I’m lost.”
Men stared. Dogs stared. Lex made his way through the crowd,
apologizing if any film was rolling. At last, he saw the man on a gigantic
throne. Dragons were carved on either side of it, like the figureheads on the
ships. A one-eyed man watched him from it, nodding and tapping his finger along
his own drinking horn. The main door to the long house opened, and two ravens
flew to the man, cawing loudly as they landed on either side of his shoulders.
“Now, what did you see today?”
They conferred with their heads bowed for a few moments
before the one-eyed king regarded Lex. “A stranger comes. And what news do you
bring? Did someone raid your farm? You look like you barely escaped with your
life—were you having a roll with your woman and need to rush out with just the
blankets on?”
The men around him roared in laughter. Lex shrugged and
smiled. “I suppose I deserved that. I do look ridiculous compared to you guys.
What movie’s being filmed here? Beowulf?”
The king took a swig from the horn. “Beowulf. A worthy name
in Valhalla, but no. This is but a mere tavern at the edge of Asgard. I come
here to collect my thoughts when I need to get away from the wife. Right, men?”
Men with whorls of tattoos and rings in their beards laughed
and joined him in drink. The great fire in the rectangular pit burned bright,
flanked with spits of roasting meat. The power bar Lex had for breakfast now
seemed woefully inadequate. His stomach agreed with a low growl.
Two growls accompanied him. He looked down to see
two—wolves. He raised his hands quickly in a gesture of helplessness, much to
the amusement of the watching crowd.
The king beckoned. “Freki, Greri—don’t judge a man by his
hunger. Come here.”
The wolves trotted to the dais and came to rest.
Lex gaped. “This is one hell of a setting! This is probably
one of the most authentic sets I’ve ever seen. Odin, the ravens, the wolves—the
warriors—you have it all!”
Odin nodded and stood. He made his way down to the area by
the fire. “Young man, what is your name?”
“Lex; I’m the host of Arcane
Fortunes. Maybe you’ve seen it on the History Channel?”
Odin chuckled. “Arcane
Fortunes, eh? Let me tell you of arcane fortunes…the wisdom of Yggdrasil,
the coming of Ragnarok—when that good-for-nothing Loki steers Naglfar, a ship carrying an army of
frost giants to destroy the world, and the wolf Fenrir devours me. A wolf
devouring a god, you wonder—how can it be so? Well, I may have made my peace
with that knowledge long ago, but it doesn’t mean I won’t fight. Come, let me
show you something.”
Odin escorted Lex out the door of the hall. The night sky
shimmered above. A colorful bridge covered the sky over the hall.
“That is Bifrost—the bridge between your plane and Asgard. I
don’t know if Loki was involved in this prank, but you don’t belong here, my
friend. Not that I don’t want to be a hospitable host. You’re certainly welcome
to feast with us and enjoy. You’ll have a long journey home, though. It’s a
long walk across that bridge.”
Lex stayed. He feasted and drank mead, and scratched the
ears of the wolves. He recorded it all, or so he thought. After falling asleep
by the fire, he was astonished to find himself back in his paltry boat in his
pathetic fur outfit. He was still surrounded by dense fog.
He ran the camera. The video was blank.