Prologue
It was the time when, for three months, the sun would not rise in northern parts of the glaciers covering the entire ice landscape in blackness and cold, except the green dancing streaks of the Northern Lights. The only one brave enough to weather such an event, carried with him a lantern as his only source of light as he urged his dogsled on to the remote glacier caverns in search of their secrets.
Three caverns already searched out, and three already empty. This was the forth, and its mouth was covered up with the tiny stones, now frozen in their place with the long, endless winters of the glaciers. It took him a over an hour to pick through them, praying to a god he no longer believed in that this was the final stop on what was already a very long journey. His fingers already laced with the small blisters of frostbite, and yet another sore formed black on his cheek, but yet, seemingly tirelessly he worked as his dogs laid about.
Finally, the stones came free, allowing but a small entry way for which he could fit his small frame through and gain entry into the cave. His lantern went first, casting light on the entryway and finally seeing for the first time, what lay within. The old chest, made from metal so it might last forever in these conditions, and ancient tablet, carved of old viking runes in stone predominately reading the first word as "Hwaet!" or "Listen!". A warning, no doubt. He read further as though the viking language was as familiar as his own:
"Here is the seer stone.
That devil's curse.
Forged from darkness,
It sees what should not be.
Takes that which is good.
Leaves that which is evil.
Hidden here til' the day of Ragnarok
For only the Gods can destroy."
With a knife, he forced the box open, and reflected slightly from under an old wool cloth was that of a mirror's shard which upon it distorted the vision of anyone who looked upon it. The man covered it quickly again, not daring look in its awful reflection, before he turned away and returned again to the frozen wilderness.