The Journey to Find Mimir

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Together

A few minutes later, Hearthstone joined me at the edge of the well.

"Have you thought over my offer?" Mimir asked him. 

Hearthstone nodded. 

"And?"

I will learn to be a sorcerer in Midgard. 

Wasn't that always the plan? I tried to catch Hearthstone's eye, but he was focused on Mimir.

"Very well." Mimir turned to both of us. "It is time to secure yourselves as bondservants. Come before me. Pledge, then drink from my well."

The two of us knelt at the water's edge. 

"Repeat after me," Mimir instructed. "I, state your name, swear on my troth to serve Mimir as long as he desires."

Suddenly, the enormity of it all fell on my shoulders. I was promising my soul to a god. A glance at Hearthstone confirmed my suspicions; he was also freaking out. 

Mimir cleared his throat. 

"Go on," he said. "You haven't got all day."

This was it. 

I took a deep breath. 

"I, Blitzen, son of Freya, swear on my troth to serve Mimir as long as he desires."

Hearthstone followed. 

I, Hearthstone Alderman, swear on my troth to serve Mimir as long as he desires.

I don't know what I expected to happen. Fireworks. A rumbling of thunder. Confetti. But there was nothing. The only difference was that I was now a bondservant to the god of wisdom for as long as he pleased.

Mimir nodded to both of us. "Now drink. One mouthful of the well should do."

I peered into the well, trying to keep my face neutral. 

I don't like boba. I don't even like having olives in my drinks. Now I was going to take a sip from a bubbling well where a head and an eyeball were forever chilling. If I hadn't already sworn on my troth, I might have backed out.

I peeked at Hearthstone for moral support. Unfortunately, he also looked queasy.

Drink fast, Hearthstone signed.  

I pushed away one final thought, (Where did Mimir's bubbles really come from?), and plunged my face into the pond.

I hope you never drink from Mimir's well. But if you do, know a few things. 

Everything stings. The water is somehow both scalding hot and icy cold. Next, the shallow floor of the well disappears; it is replaced with a deepness so large that its gravity threatens to pull you under. Finally, the water's knowledge seeps into you. Your nose can smell every flower field, every kitchen, every dumpster fire. Your ears fill with orchestras, revved engines, and playgrounds. Your eyes see all. 

I wanted to yank myself out the moment I hit the water. But I forced myself to take a gulp of knowledge. It tasted of everything and bubbled on the way down. 

I threw myself out of the well, gasping.  

Hearthstone was already out, furiously wiping his nose with his sleeve. There was still water in my ear. I shook my head violently, trying to dislodge a smooth jazz radio station and a children's birthday party from my ear canal. 

To my surprise, Mimir was right; the well water had an after taste of diet coke. 

Mimir was unphased by our reaction. While we shook and scrubbed, he grinned.