The Journey to Find Mimir

Alfred Passes Out Even More Than Jason Grace (Though I Have No Idea Who That Is)

This sent me over the edge. 

The laugh in my chest started off as I giggle, then a chuckle. Then, I quickly roared myself into laughing hysterics. I howled. I hiccupped. I snorted and cackled. After the last 24 hours, I had finally snapped! Everything was ridiculous! Forget Nabbi and the newspaper articles. Let's start with what is right in front of me -- an elf! An elf in Nidavellir! Sitting in my kitchen! Writing with my pen! That should have been funny enough. Yet here was some elf (you know, from Alfheim, land of petrification!) in my kitchen, in a tattered suit, telling me he got to Nidavellir using runestones! Real runestones! Like Odin and the Norns and storybook sorcerers from hundreds of years ago! I could not make this up!

I could tell the elf was starting to get annoyed with my laughter, but I couldn't stop. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My abs were starting to hurt. 

"What's your name?" I asked, still in giggling. 

He crossed his arms, then squinted his eyes in annoyance while looking at my lips. I understood the message: Stop laughing -- I cannot read your lips. I calmed myself for a millisecond and asked my question again, fully facing him. 

Even through my laughing hysteria, I could see that some of the annoyance leaked out of him. He hesitated, then wrote his name down.

Alfred Sunspot.

I was still laughing. 

"Alfred, Alfred," I said to myself as I took the pen. 

Wow, "Alfred"! I know who you really are -- Odin! And your disguise is fantastic! 

My own joke sent me into another round of hysterics. I am hilarious! 

I could tell that Alfred was getting annoyed, but I didn't care. The world had gone mad! My dad was dead! I crafted a lifesaving device in a single night! Elves have green blood! (I think!) It was as if my logic had said, see ya never! before swan-diving off a cliff. 

Alfred pounded the table to get my attention. He pointed at the notepad. The elf had been busy writing while I was losing my mind.

I learned about runestones from a friend in Alfheim. She is a sprite. This means she is more connected with nature and the magic of the Nine Worlds. She told me old stories about sorcerers in her family, and how they used runestones to access the universe and better the land.

I grinned at him, still feeling a bit giddy. 

"Neat-o, I guess," I said. "That's nice for her family. But you're not a sprite. Or an old sorcerer."

He flipped the page of his notebook and scribbled something down. His handwriting was getting sloppy. 

Her family knows about runestones. I learned all of their symbols from old books she brought me. But Mimir will know more. He can teach me how to master the runestones. 

He paused for a moment. 

I need to learn the powers of each runestone. The book didn't say it would shoot me through the sky. That was a surprise.

I didn't believe him at all, but that didn't mean I couldn't humor him.

"Which one did you use?" I asked, suppressing a smile.

Hearthstone drew a little bowtie on the notepad: ⋈

This is Dalgaz, he wrote. It is the rune of transformations and new beginnings. Also of dawn, sunlight, the sun, etc.

I smirked.

"So, a rune that means 'sun' brought you to one of the darkest realms in the Nine Worlds?" I giggled. My ribs were still feeling a bit ticklish. "I can't imagine that you know how to use these runestones at all!"