The Journey to Find Mimir

Chapter Fourteen: Not-Alfred and I Visit an Old Friend

We left the house before mossglow, so the streets were empty. If the other dwarves stared at me for being too tall, I could only imagine what sort of mayhem a six-foot-tall elf in a filthy white suit would cause in the streets of Eddaborg. 

Náinn was sitting on his porch swing reading the paper when Alfred and I approached. When he glanced up, surprise flashed across his face. He took in the scene. First, he looked to Alfred, with his white-blonde hair, pale skin, green eyes and pointed ears. Then his eyes flicked over my broken nose. His mouth opened a fraction of an inch, like he was going to say something, but then he closed it. Instead, he gave us both a warm smile. As we walked up the front steps of his little wooden house, he got off the porch swing and gave me a hug. 

"Blitzen," he said kindly, "I see you have brought a friend."

Alfred and I exchanged dubious looks. Friend wasn't really the right word. Magic elf whose life I saved, and who watched me cry about my dead dad yesterday? Yes. Friend? No, not really. Still, neither of us were going to correct him.

"Hi, Náinn," I said. "Yes, I have brought someone here to meet you."

Alfred gave Náinn a little nod while trying to subtly smooth some of the wrinkles on his stained white suit. Náinn ignored this and smiled kindly. 

"I am Náinn, son of Jaki," he said. "What's your name?"

I had forgotten something.

"Uh, actually he's deaf." I explained. "But this is Alfred. Alfred Sunspot."

Náinn looked from me to Alfred in shock. Then he laughed loudly. It kept going. Soon tears filled his eyes. Alfred turned a bit pink. I was very confused. 

Náinn wiped away a tear.

"Blitzen, please stop and think a moment. There is no way in Helheim that two elves named their son Alfred." He laughed again. "Didn't you notice the 'Alf' in Alfred? The very name means elf!" 

I turned to the elf named "elf" and scowled. 

"You lied?" I asked. 

Not-Alfred shrugged nonchalantly, but his mouth twitch in the direction of a smile.

Náinn disappeared into the house and returned with a pen and a clipboard. 

"What is your name, son?" he asked. 

Náinn and I leaned over the elf's shoulder as he wrote.

Hearthstone.

"Hearthstone," Náinn nodded. "A strong, traditional name. I bet you're the oldest son."

Hearthstone nodded. Náinn smiled.

"What district are you from?" he asked. "I now know quite a bit about your home world. I just finished a book called Alfheim: Modern Times and Pivotal Events by Alderman Alderman."

Suddenly, Hearthstone froze. He simply stared at the man. Odd. I decided to jump in.

"Hearthstone is from--"

I was cut off by sound of the clipboard clattering to the floor. We both turned to Hearthstone, who was now empty handed. He smiled sheepishly, then quickly picked up the clipboard and frantically began to scribble. I didn't think it was possible, but his face was even more pale than usual.

I am sorry about that! Thank you so much for having us here! We are very excited to learn everything you know about Mimir. Blitzen said that you have a lot of information on how to get to Jotunheim. 

Náinn turned to me with a grimace. 

"So that is why you are here," he said. "You want to follow in Brokkr's footsteps."