Author's Note: There isn't much Greek mythology in this chapter, that's coming in the next one. : )
Eírikr looked at the horizon. Sea everywhere, no land in sight. The sun was shining brilliantly, and a ray of sunlight reflected off the shield at his side. He was not fooled, however -these south seas were not kind. Their ship was off course; several storms forced his crewmates to take detours. He wondered when he would see his home in Iceland again. A man rowing in front of him then spoke.
"It looks like another storm is on the horizon," he said.
"You're right, it looks like it'll be here by nightfall," answered another.
Noticing the dark clouds behind him for the first time, Eírikr was worried. The storm had advanced so quickly - it was surely not there an hour ago.
"What do we do? This one looks worse than the others…and I don't see land anywhere," said a voice from the back.
It was Áfríðr, Eírikr's childhood friend. He was often the first to panic. As children, Eírikr and Áfríðr loved to hunt in the forest near their homes. Once, Áfríðr came bolting to Eírikr, yelling about some great monster he had heard. He retraced his steps, and Eírikr followed. When they arrived at the scene, Áfríðr pointed to where he heard the noise. Sword in hand, Eírikr went to investigate. He found no monster…but he did see a set of deer tracks. Ever since, Eírikr brings the story up when he sees his friend act cowardly.
Eírikr turned around to answer his friend, almost dropping his oar as he saw the clouds. They were even more menacing now. He had never seen clouds of such a dark color before, and he heard the faint sound of far-away thunder. Fearing for the morale of his crew, Eírikr put his worries aside.
"Fríði, don't tell me you're afraid of a little rain! They say a man named Leifr Eíriksson traveled across the great northern sea and found an island on the other side of the world. If he can do that, we can brave a little storm. You're just…running from deer," yelled Eírikr in response.
Instinctively, he put down his oar and raised his shield. A second later, his shield deflected a piece of wood. Laughter erupted across the ship. Good spirits helped the men row faster as the ship raced against the looming storm.
--
Sól gave off an orange glow as she prepared to set. The waves were getting rougher as the storm approached, and men that weren't rowing had to carefully balance on the rocking ship.
Eírikr put down his oar and reached near his sea chest for a wooden tablet and a carving knife. He often carved runes while on a voyage, there was something calming about them. The front of the tablet was filled with runes; he'd have to turn it around. When he did, he noticed something strange…there was a carving on the back that he had not made. It read KRONOS…what could this mean? It was not a Norse word. Eírikr felt that this was a bad sign, but he stayed silent. The men would need their courage to make it out of this storm.
--
Sheets of rain feel like arrows while thunder roared and the sea battered the ship.
"Lower the sail!" yelled a man over the deafening wind.
The ship nearly capsized on the wild waves before Eírikr quickly lowered it. Icy cold water poured into the ship as the crewmembers struggled to keep it afloat. Áfríðr staggered across the boat to reach Eírikr.
"Are we running from a deer, friend?" Áfríðr yelled.
A smile spread across Eírikr's face.
"You were right this time Fríði," he answered.
At that moment, an enormous wave swept over the ship. Seconds later, the ship capsized. Eírikr found himself underwater, but not for long. A bright flash temporarily blinded him. When he recovered, Eírikr found that the sea was calm. He was clutching a piece of wood. Where was Áfríðr? Where were the crewmembers? Where was his ship? Eírikr yawned, looking sleepily at the horizon. He thought he saw land. An overwhelming drowsiness then took him over, and he fell asleep, drifting on the endless sea.