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October 27th 1959
40 years after the end of president Theodore Roosevelt’s third term in office
“Good evening everyone, welcome to this year's Wine and Dine at the Roosevelt History Museum! I am your host and curator of this very museum, Dr. Jonathan Strongarm!” a large bulky man about a hundred and eighty nine centimetres tall announced.
He wore a black tuxedo, dress pants and tie together with a white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. He had a sharp jawline and hair he grew to his chin only. His long, messy black hair covered one of his eyes. Some described it as a black mess untethered by gravity. Yet he was never without his smile or the fire in his eyes.
The crowd showered Johathan with polite applause that lasted a few minutes and echoed around the halls of the museum. The main hall had been completely transformed, going from a large empty space that visitors entered to pay admission to a lively dining area decked out in tables and chairs and a miniature stage with a podium.
There were about a hundred and twenty guests in total, dressed in their Sunday best. There were many wealthy figures in the crowd, either potential or past donors; however, the crowd mostly consisted of middle class families looking forward to an exciting evening to take their minds off their daily woes. Yet the one thing they all had in common was a smile as they enjoyed their food, and talked to their family members.
“As you all enjoy your food, I am pleased to invite to the stage, Dr. Arthur Winslow! A professor from the great north, Sweden! He has just recently completed an excavation done on islands off the coast of Norway! Ladies and gentlemen please, put your hands together and welcome him on to the stage!” Jonathan boomed.
Dr. Arthur got off his chair and walked up the stairs to the stage. He had long wavy blonde hair that reached his neck that he combed to the sides and deep forest green eyes. Standing 185cm tall, He wore a white shirt and black tie tucked neatly into a black vest with gold buttons and some grey lining to give a pattern of waves and a simple golden ring on his finger. His clothes clung tightly onto his large muscles, especially considering he was built closer to an athlete than a scholar. His pale white skin was slightly tanned, clearly from the hours he spent under the hot sun helping to dig up the past.
He stared at the table he had left behind, there Angela Winslow stared confidently back at him. She was a tall brunette with hazel brown eyes, wearing a long sleeveless red silk dress and black platforms. Her skin was fairer than Arthur’s. She wore black rimmed circle glasses and a short rose gold necklace with a triskelion pendant. The gold ring on her finger shining brightly in the light of the room.
After shaking hands with Johnathan, Arthur took the podium, looking confidently at the crowd and taking a deep breath before he began his speech.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I, as you know, am Dr. Athur Winslow. I have a PHD on the history of the Aelvikars , or as they are known to the general public, the Sky People. Many people are of course interested in how they, the Aelvikars, managed to do what we in modern society can't, however there was a time where they were firmly rooted to the ground like the rest of us.
“I want to tell a story from that time, a myth that they believed long long ago. As a historian my favourite part of history are the stories we used to tell. The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Labours of Heracles, the Journey to the West and so on. These great stories ancient humans used to explain the world to themselves, especially stuff they did not quite understand.
“In this case, the event the ancients are trying to explain is the volcanic winter of 536 A.D. The myth I'm about to tell you was found first as runes written on stone tablets dating to around 543 A.D. It was thought that this myth, like most, was spread through oral tradition before an anonymous author carved it down for us. Do take note that the story as written on the tablets was probably altered here and there after about seven or so years of the locals playing telephone with each other.
“Essentially I hope you'll enjoy my retelling of an anonymous author’s retelling of a myth tens of thousands of years old while keeping in mind the story has probably changed quite a few times over the years. Although according to the runes, the author was writing as he was actively listening to one of the elders tell the myth, so while I advise on taking everything I say with a grain of salt, perhaps the story is more accurate than we think.”
...
Our story here begins with an argument between Vulkan, the God of Fire, Land and Destruction, with Skön, the Goddess of the Sky, Nature and Creation. You see, Vulkan wants to keep his ‘Mountains of Flame’, which we know to be volcanos, constantly spewing out lava so as to create more land for the humans to inhabit. Skön, however, is against the idea because she worries that many humans would die if this was the case. So whenever Vulkan sets off one of his black mountains, she is quick to cool them off, which interestingly creates the most fertile land for farmers to plant their crops.
Vulkan was often depicted as a humanoid figure made purely of obsidian and basalt rocks with his arms and legs always on fire. He had a head shaped like that of a wolf with four deep crimson eyes with night black pupils. Both his hands and feet ended in sharp black claws.
Skön, meanwhile, was always just seen as the Sky itself. She did not have a humanoid form because she was the Sky and space, all of it. However there are stories that depict her as a cross between a bird and a human with talons for legs, claws for hands and huge feathery wings sprouting out from her back. However this depiction is only really used by a few authors thought to be part of an division of the main religion and no one else. It's not clear which depiction our author uses so feel free to use your imagination.
Interestingly as you will soon see, these Gods are not omnipresent, omnipotent or omniscient. In fact, as the Aelvikars believed, Gods did not even become immortal until they reached maturity. Yet they worshipped these gods because they represented forces of nature they had no power to challenge or control. In fact, there is another myth of a divine child living among humans before regaining his godhood and rising into Heaven: The tale of their first king, Allsmäktig. But that's a story for another time.
As they continued to argue, Skön's attention was drawn away to farmland near a volcano. She let Vulkan carry on his speech as she gazed into the distance. Her eyes caught upon a sunny field she had recently cooled off and was now fertile soil from the volcano nearby. Yet there were no humans in sight, just a sunny field with the brightest green grass Skön had ever seen. It was peaceful watching the blades of grass move freely in the breeze which was so gentle as it brushed against her.
Within the field itself, a tree had begun to sprout from the ground. It kept growing and growing continuously without stopping or slowing down. From something the size of an ant, it grew to a gold sapling the size of a person, and finally, to an enormous tree that soared straight to the heavens with thick branches sporting hundreds of bright golden leaves the size of a palm.
The centre of the tree seemed to be calling her. Pulling her to come towards it, for it had something that belonged to her. The call was strong, but she first turned back to Vulkan who was still droning on about humanity this, and the future that. Something seemed to occur to him, but he shook his head and kept his attention on Skön as he continued on. What a creep, Skön thought, as she moved towards the tree.
Digging carefully into the tree, she did her best not to snap its branches or misplace its leaves, until finally, there, at the centre of the tree where the trunk broke off into a network of branches, she found a golden baby sleeping. It was cradled in a makeshift cot made from the branches of the tree, with leaves blanketing the child and protecting it from the sun.
As she lifted the baby from the tree, she learned a grave truth about the child, it was her baby, hers and Vulkan’s. She knew that Vulkan could hear the tree calling to him but he still stayed focused on his speech, but how much longer would he continue to? How much longer until he realised he had a child? Skön could not bear to think what kind of damage a god of destruction would do to a child. Seeing the way he fought with her over something that was such a little problem, what would he do when faced with real ones?
Vulkan, too, began to hear the call of the tree. He tried to stay focused on talking to Skön but eventually, he gave up on trying to change Skön’s mind for the day and gave in to the call of the tree. Skön shouted at him, telling him the tree was an offering from Gaia, the earth, to her. She lied to him telling him the feeling he felt in his skull was jealousy and told him to leave, sending a powerful wind to blow him back. Vulkan stood and glared back at Skön but conceded, shaking his head and walking away.
Side note, Gaia here is not a god or being or embodiment, she is the earth, similar to how Skön is seen as the sky. The Aelvikars believed that Gaia was a servant of Skön because the heavens were above, untouchable and unchangeable by the earth. In their limited understanding of geography, they believed that the earth had no influence and could not have any influence on the sky, but the sky could influence the earth though storms, winds, thunder and so on.
Continuing on, once Vulkan finally left for the day, Skön pulled the golden baby out from the cot in the tree and took it in as their child. She named the baby girl Skörda, meaning harvest. Skön was worried about the safety of the girl up in the heavens, she could not let Vulkan ever find the child, that would mean they would have to share the responsibility of raising the child. Skön knew Vulkan had a terrible temper and was worried of the things he would do to Skörda if he tried to raise her. Refusing to let that happen she decided there was only one solution.
She called Gaia to service and buried Skörda within the caves of the earth, leaving the duty of raising the child to her. With her bright golden skin Skörda was able to see through the darkness of the caves, and the earth taught her of the world above and the people and animals who lived on it.
During those years, nature flourished. Trees and plants grew bigger and faster than ever before including the crops of humanity. Skön continued to stay in heaven performing her duties as the sky. She was certain that Gaia would be able to protect her child. Occasionally, she would watch her child from afar, but otherwise never spoke or touched her.
Eventually, Skörda found a way out of the caves and into the outer world. By now she was about twelve years old and around a hundred and fifty five centimetres tall. Her skin was still a bright gold colour that shone though clothes that she had sewn for herself from vines and flowers. Her long dark hair flowed freely in the wind as she tried to keep it out of her face and her ocean blue eyes.
The bright sun from the outside of the cave came shining in. Used to the normal darkness, she followed the mellow sunlight out of the cave where she found a small isolated beach on the side of a large basalt cliff. The rocks formed tall pentagram towers that got smaller the further they were from the cliff. For a moment, Skörda sat in the sand, feeling it rub against her skin. She picked up handfuls of it and threw it into the ocean, watching it dissolve and giggling.
As the sun set, Skörda watched the sky turn from blue, to yellow, to orange and to then black as the sun faded into the horizon. Birds flew freely across the sky around her, sometimes landing atop the columns. Her skin once again shone brighter and brighter as the sunlight disappeared. She decided to try and climb the cliff, walking up the basalt columns and climbing up the taller ones. Sometimes, when she could not reach the next handhold, vines would appear and help pull her up. Slowly, the mountainside was covered in green from the plants that grew around Skorda.
Soon, she reached the top of the mountain, filling the once stony hill with the green of life. Above her, the sky had formed huge curtains of colourful lights that danced around her. Proud of what she had done she fashioned a crown of vines and sat at the edge of the cliff watching the lights flash around her.
She seemed drawn to the lights and suddenly, her whole body was filled with the desire to watch the curtains of light more closely. Slowly, she formed a net bridge of vines tied tightly to each other. When she was finished, she threw rocks at the bridge to see if it could handle her weight. Once she was certain it would, she slowly walked onto the bridge and let it grow into the air. She felt the wind rush against her as she sored higher and higher into the sky.
Eventually, she approached one of the light curtains, but before she could reach it, she was smacked out of the air and off her bridge. Skön, assuming some Human was trying to reach heaven, had absent mindedly smacked the person off the bridge, realising too late that it was her own daughter. She watched as her daughter fell with tears in her eyes as she screamed to the heavens for someone to help. Skön was frozen, she could only watch as her daughter plummeted to the earth, falling further and further away from her.
The vines on the bridge collapsed with her and wrapped around her when Skörda had an idea. Using what little vines she had, she formed large wings around her back and tried to glide back down to the mountain. Coming out of her shock, Skön blew winds to help Skörda glide back home. The moment she touched the ground, she ran back into the cave crying and screaming.
Skön was outraged at the earth; she commanded the earth to seal all the entrances to its caves shut so Skörda would never leave their safety again. Yet the earth refused to forbid a child from ever seeing the sun again, to imprison a child who had done nothing wrong. Skön grew more and more furious as the earth refused, showing it in thunder and storms unlike any before, it was only when Vulkan intervened that she stopped, realising the harm she could do to the people of the earth.
Still no longer trusting Gaia, Skön searched the lands before hearing of a childless couple who were praying to Framtida, the Goddess of Time for a child. Skön used the wind to steal clothes from the village elder’s daughter to give to Skorda. Under her command, Gaia covered Skorda’s skin in a layer of white clay powder to cover her golden skin and lead her to the couple.
If you would allow me to take a quick break from the story, the reason why the couple was praying to the Goddess of Time for a child is because “Time” is a bit of a mistranslation, the runes here do not describe time as they do a fashion of the word “future” and “time”. Children were seen as the future of civilization so Framtida is not just a Goddess of the Past, Present and Future but also of Children and Growth, as in the growth of a child into a contributing member of society, like a goddess of parenting, if you will. Except in this case, the Aelvikars believed that the best and most important parent a child had was the flow of time itself. A parent that treated all equally unfairly, constantly challenging everyone and allowing them to grow and become better and stronger.
Anyway, The couple took in Skörda before soon realising that they were about to have a child. The couple was worried about how they would be able to take care of two children. They had enough to maybe take care of one child, but two children would put a massive strain on the family. As Skörda played around outside, she heard the adults expressing their woes. She wanted to help and as that desire formed in her head the couple’s farmland called out to her.
Walking over to the empty field, she placed her hands on the ground and hoped for a way the family would be able to support everyone in the house. From the ground, large shafts of golden wheat sprouted from the earth. Every time the couple pulled a shaft out of the ground, a new fully grown shaft took its place. Allowing them to feed everyone in their village including themselves indefinitely.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Framtida looked down from the heavens to check upon the couple. I'm not sure how, considering Skön is the Sky, but I digress. Framtida saw the childless family she just blessed with a pregnancy suddenly had a child. Suspecting something was wrong, she sent her son Vulkan to go investigate. Disguising himself as an elderly lady and finding where the couple stayed, Vulkan knocks on their door and asks them for a loaf of bread. The couple invited him in and shared a loaf of bread with him along with meat and other foods they had prepared for dinner.
Thanking them for the food, he began to interrogate them for information and they happily obliged, telling him everything that had happened. Vulkan was surprised to learn about Skörda and was certain that she was a rogue child of the gods, yet which one of gods would be so careless to leave their child in the hands of humans? He was annoyed that a god of his calibre could do something so stupid. Still, he put it upon himself to resolve the issue. After learning that Skörda had been sent to retrieve water from the nearby river, he erased all the memories the couple had of her leaving them the field of golden wheat, making them believe it was sent as a blessing from Gaia.
Walking down the river, Skörda seemed to have disappeared. Just as he began to think that the family had lied to him he saw a pail laying on the ground, still leaking water.
“HELP! HELP ME PLEA-” A young girl's voice cried out before being cut off by choking and coughing.
Vulkan ran forward into the woods before coming across Skörda bloody and bruised as three adults in armour kicked, punched and beat her. She was defenceless as she laid on the ground covering her head and screaming in pain. Leaning against another tree was another girl around Skörda’s age dressed in the most beautiful of clothes. She smiled at every blow and laughed at every scream. She mocked and belittled Skorda, shouting "Freak! Thief! Peasant!" as the air was once again beat out of the other girl’s lungs
Rage exploded in Vulkan, the earth roaring as a volcano rumbled loudly in the distance. In the resulting confusion and fear, he jumped at the three soldiers and in one strike sliced all of them apart. One through his face, one through his neck and one through the chest. Reaching down to Skörda, he lifted her off the ground and carried her in his arm, letting her cry out as he healed her injuries as best he could. Slowly, Skörda calmed as Vulkan learned the truth of her origin.
His outrage bubbled and bubbled beneath his skin, but for now, he was more worried about Skörda. He gently held her until she managed to fall asleep, wiping away her tears as he temporarily laid her on the ground. Vulkan turned to a girl whose skin had turned completely pale as she shaked like a leaf. Looking at the two girls he put two and two together, slowly and carefully he removed the clothes from Skörda and wrapped them around his fist before slapping the child across the face.
She fell to the ground from the impact but quickly got up and ran away into the woods. He turned around to see Skörda had awakened temporarily; he knew it would only be awhile before she slept again so he prodded her with questions carefully and slowly.
“Who are your parents?” he asked.
Confused, Skörda tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow before she answered,
“My parents live in that hut over there,” she replied.
“Don't be silly,” Vulkan laughed. “Those people are human. You are the daughter of a God.”
Skörda looked at Vulkan confused. She did not know who her parents were, the Earth had taken care of her as long as she had known and those people had just taken her in. She did not really know anyone else. Maybe she did not have parents for all she knew. Sighing, Vulkan grabbed Skörda by the shoulder and instantly he learned the truth: Skörda was his daughter. For thirteen years, he had a daughter and she was kept hidden from him. Such was his rage that a “black mountain erupted like thunder and spewed forth the fires of hell upon the lands of man.” Vulkan lifted Skörda, wrapped in a blanket of vines, into his arms and flew up to the heavens to confront Skön.
“Skön!” he screamed from below. “How dare you keep my daughter from me! What have I done to deserve having my daughter shoved into the Earth for years upon years!? Not a message or a word that I had become a father!”
Skön refused to answer.
“What right did you have to decide that I would be an unfit father!? What right did you have to pass our responsibility onto a frail human couple!? You're lucky she doesn't take after me! Lest she caused an earthquake trying to help the family you placed such a large burden upon! How could a child see what you could not! You left our child in the hands of people who still kill thousands over crops! Who still take advantage of each other for the smallest gain! What would you have done, had they sold her off to slavery to ensure their wealth! Or what if she was enlisted into an army just to die for imaginary lines these fools have drawn in the ground! Did you not see what they did to her over something as simple and worthless as clothes?!” thundered vulkan
“She was a young girl!” Skön shouted back, “How was I supposed to know that could happen!”
“You were supposed to raise her! That was your responsibility! It should have been ours and yet you thought this was better!? If anyone found out what she really was, who's to say the local lord or king wouldn't have taken her as their own! Then what!? In trying to hide our daughter from me out of fear I’d be a terrible parent, you, Skön, have been the most disgusting lie of a mother ever! Was I really that scary?! She doesn't even know who she is or who her real parents are! Given her powers over crops and nature, who wouldn't try to take advantage of her if they knew!?”
Skön did not want to listen any more: in her rage, her fear and her guilt, she slapped Vulkan as hard as she could, snapping off a part of his face. His rage flew quickly again and a second volcano spewed forth hell on earth. When the piece of his face fell to the earth it sank deep into the ocean, causing the earth to shake and tremble madly and waves that stretched to the heavens to form and crash into the islands of man.
Yet Vulkan did not retort, did not fight back or continue to argue. He looked Skön dead in the eyes, shook his head and walked away. Grabbing Skörda into his arms again, he held her tight and jumped into his home volcano. As Skön tried to chase after them, Vulkan erupted the volcano causing the hellfire to burn her whole, the light blue eternal Sky had turned completely ash black, darker than any night.
Having her daughter stolen from her and realising it was her fault this happened, the light from Skön’s soul disappeared and thus no light from the heavens could reach down to humanity. Occasionally she would try to find Vulkan and her daughter but whenever she came close Vulkan would trigger another eruption which scared her away. In fact whenever a volcano erupted, the Aelvikars would pray to Vulkan to be more merciful to Skön and themselves. Also, now that the Goddess of Harvest was gone from the lands, famine and pestilence begin to spread across the world.
Yet humanity lived on. It was prophesied that one day, under Vulkan and Framitda’s raising, Skörda would grow into the greatest of the gods, just and benevolent. A warrior of the lands would seek Vulkan’s true layer and ensuring her safety; he would prove that not all humanity was wicked and bring the first of Skörda’s blessings to the lands of humanity. Then Skörda would rise to the heavens and bring herself to the true position of head god and relight the light in her mother’s soul.
Thus we come to the end of our story. Naturally as you can see the volcanic winter didn't quite last forever. I wonder what it must have been like to be part of the generation that saw the skies clear and light return to the world as Skörda relit her mother’s soul. The joy and celebration that must have spread through the Aelvikars’ hearts.
The pestilence the story was mostly likely referring to was the Plague of Justinian, a truly terrible epidemic that would kill about half the world's population at the time. In fact it is speculated but not confirmed that the same bacteria that caused the plague of Justinian would later evolve into the bacteria that caused the Black Plague. Again, the texts we have are from around 543 A.D. during the height of the Justinian Plague, which lasted from 541 to 549 A.D. On top of that, the volcanic winter would be worsened by more volcanic eruptions around 539 to 541 A.D.
So it's very possible that the original story was changed to add how Vulkan would erupt volcanoes to scare away Skön and perhaps the part of pestilence spreading across the lands was also added to give the story more credibility. Of course it's entirely possible that the story did not change this way and the Aelvikars just had really good prediction skills.
The volcanic winter, along with famine and plagues and millions of deaths would initiate the Late Antique Little Ice Age, which would last from 536 to 560 A.D. If you would like to learn more about this period of history, the Museum will be opening a special exhibit focusing on this strange yet interesting part of human history, including most of my finds from my excavation up in the North.
...
Applause erupted through the crowd yet it was Angela's smile and cheerful look that spoke to him the most. Shaking Johantan’s hand once again Arthur left the stage and returned to his table, the clapping only stopping when he took his seat.
“That was a great speech out there! I can't believe you were stressing over this, You did so well, honey!” Angela told him, as she grabbed Arthur's arm.
“I couldn't have done it without you, my angel, it was your translation after all. Sorry I couldn't give you the credit you're due, apparently some people here would have questioned its credibility had they known it was done by a woman,” Arthur said, brushing Angela’s hair to the side.
“It's quite alright, the only credit I need is the raise in my paycheck from the university and museum.” Angela mocked.
The two laughed about it for a moment attracting attention from the crowd but that did not matter to them, lost in each other's eyes and laughter, they wouldn't have noticed if the building caught on fire.
...
After all the guests had spoken and all the food was eaten, everyone slowly began to make their way home. Slightly tipsy Arthur and Angela sat together on the steps leading up to the museum. The dark sky was littered in bright stars as the crescent moon gave a dim light to the surroundings. It reflected well against the white marble of the museum.
Holding hands and leaning against each other, they looked together into infinity and then into the infinity in each other's eyes. Slowly they moved closer together until they were wrapped in each other’s arms, in each other’s lips. Wrapped together, held tight by passion, love, and the alcohol, alone in the moonlight upon the stairs, they could have stayed that way forever.
They pushed each other against the wall as they climbed on top of one another, constantly grabbing tighter and pulling each other closer. Their mouths stayed locked together and their tongues wrapped tighter and tighter against each other. They could smell and taste the Rosé on each other's breath, the alcohol infused spit flowing freely between them.
A loud creaking noise filled the air as the door of the museum began to slowly open. Quickly the pair untangled themselves and rushed down the stairs to avoid the embarrassment of being seen by anyone else.
“Arthur!” Jonathan called out “What a surprise! Do you mind talking for a few seconds?”
With Angela’s help, Arthur managed to rub the lipstick off his face before turning around.
“Not at all! What seems to be the matter?” Arthur replied nervously.
“Nothing to worry about, this gentleman here was just hoping he could have a word with the two of you,” Jonathan beamed.
On top of the stairs next to Johnathan was a sly man wearing a black pair of dress pants, a plain black vest, a red shirt, a dark green tie tucked into the vest and a long black coat. He had a long sharp nose and long messy hair he kept under a black tophat. The jacket’s sleeves reached till his wrists and he wore black gloves to cover his hands. The only place his skin was visible was his face and neck. It was unnaturally white as if he painted his skin to keep it that way. However, his smile was quite relaxed, though his eyes seemed untrusting. He carried with him a dark blue cane that ended in a mask similar to that of a plague doctor.
“Both of us?” Angela asked puzzled.
Jonathan nodded before making his way back to the museum.
“I’ll leave you guys to your business. That was an excellent speech Arthur. I'll let you know when the exhibit is open. Naturally, we will be able to credit both you and Angela for your amazing work,” he said before closing the museum door behind him.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the sly man said adjusting his gold monocle. “I am Adrian Shadowmere, one of the donors to the museum. Do tell, Dr. Arthur, is it true your expedition near Norway was your last before you retire?”
Arthur nodded silently. He was taken back by the question. Nobody knew that he was retiring except his team and Johnathan. It was not a personal secret to him, but Johnathon would not have told anyone unprompted. Why did this random person care about his retirement plans?
“36 is quite a young age to retire, wouldn’t you say Arthur? Though I suppose you've made enough from your years of archeology. I mean, you've made some major breakthroughs in the field, but how about one last adventure before you throw in the towel?” Adrain asked.
He said every word perfectly, and though it was hard to tell, every word he chose and how he said it was carefully calculated. He was the kind of person who could convince you to rob a bank for him, give him all the money and thank him for the experience.
“What kind of adventure?” Arthur and Angela asked at the same time.
They looked at each other, both knowing they had to be cautious of Adrian. Yet one thing was clear: Adrian’s eyes showed he distrusted the both of them more than they did him. It was not personal, Arthur thought, Adrian distrusted everyone, perhaps even himself, equally. The dead look in his eyes made this clear.
It would have been wise to have said no. To walk away and never think about Adrian ever again and yet Arthur was curious. His sense of adventure had not yet disappeared and there was still more he wanted to see and discover.
“Ever wanted to go up there ?” Adrian asked, lifting his cane with the tip pointing to the sky.
Specifically his cane pointed to the Floating City. Ever since he was born, his parents were born, his grandparents were born and long before, a chunk of land thought to have a similar surface area as the island of Singapore at its top floated high above in the sky. It really was like a floating island, an upside down pyramid with a circle base. A perfect circle base. Based on rough calculations, its diameter was exactly thirty kilometres, no more no less. No matter where you drew the line, from the centre of the circle to any point of the circumference the line was always exactly fifteen kilometres.
The underneath of the island was the scarier part to Arthur, the pyramid had an exact height of five kilometres. The length of the tip of the pyramid to any point on the circumference was always the root square of two hundred and fifty, always exactly, perfectly meeting at the apex.
It was an impossibility, more so than the floating island itself. Perfect circles could not exist in the real world. No matter what tools were used, man could not make a perfect circle and neither could nature, let alone a perfect cone. Yet the island existed. Impossibility on top of impossibility, it floated high above the sky right in front of everyone.
It was the home of the Aelvikars, or at the very least their old home. It was easy to find multiple accounts from historians all over history, the oldest dating to the Sui dynasty in China, of a floating island flying above human heads eternally out of our reach. Old runes dating before even the vikings tell the story of a great fortress city that existed on a large island that modern geographers say would have had a surface area similar to modern France. The island rulers did not let anyone in or anyone out, until one day, the whole island erupted into flames and exploded, causing some of the greatest earthquakes and tsunamis ever recorded. Some pieces reached as high in the sky as the floating city did, except only one giant piece remained in the sky, the rest raining down in a meteor shower.
For years, Arthur chased after the Aelvikars, learning about their past, desperately hoping one day he would be able to reach the top of that floating city and see what had become of its people. Had some of them survived? Was there a whole new civilization untouched by the rest of humanity atop that floating island? From childhood until now, was this not why he was born? Destiny was calling him. If Adrian was right, then finally everything he had worked for, studied for, everything he had experienced! If he could get up to that island, everything would have been worth it. He would have achieved his life’s purpose!
And yet, He was wary of Adrian. A cunning sly charismatic man appears out of nowhere just before he retires, offering him his lifelong dream? Was it too good to be true? Why did Adrian care? Why did he want Arthur specifically? Questions filled his head and refused to leave him. Fear and hope fought for dominance in his head and both were equally matched.
“It’s better that you ask me the questions running through your head than keeping them to yourself” Adrian said
“How do you plan to achieve such a feat? And why do you want to?” Arthur asked carefully.
“Leave the ‘how’ to me, I ask you to trust me on this. ‘Why’ is an easy question to answer: I never had much money, until one day ,as I walked across the deserts, I found an oil spill: Tons of the stuff just under the ground. Before you know it, I have more money than I could have ever wished for. For years, I was looked down upon, insulted and bullied, but now, with my wealth, I will do what no one ever has! Together we can discover what lies atop that floating island! Etch our names into history! As to why you specifically? Is there any other person who is better suited to step on to that island? Is it not you who has spent your whole life studying and dreaming for this moment?” Adrian exclaimed with a great zeal.
In Arthur’s head the battle was over: retirement could wait, he had one last adventure to complete. One last time, on a journey of a lifetime, the achievement that would define the decade, no, the century!
“If you are sure you can achieve the ‘how’, I would be honoured to go on this trip.” Arthur replied.
“I swear on my name I will be able to get us there. And please, the honour would be mine. Madam Winslow, you too must join us. I have heard your language and deciphering skills are far beyond the top experts in the field, was it not you who gave the translation of the runes?”
“Yes, that was me. I would gladly join in the pursuit of this great achievement.” Angela said as her face went red.
“It’s settled then! I’ll be keeping in touch. It was a pleasure meeting the two of you.” cheered Aldrian.
Exchanging pleasantries, Adrian separated from the two. He stepped into his car, a black Ferrari Testa Rossa and drove off into the moonlight. Similarly, the Winslows said a final goodbye to Jonathan before beginning the drive to their hotel. It was only when they fell asleep in each other's arms that they were able to stop thinking of the floating island.
~end~