The Memory Painter

“The raider,” she nodded. “He’s a mean one.”

“Promise me you’ll give him a wide berth until he’s gone after winter.”

“And will you be gone after winter too?” She held his hand.

“No. Greenland is my home now. With my wife and sons.”

“Sons?” She laughed, her eyes shining. “And where are these sons?”

Bjarni took her in his arms. “Waiting for us.”

Skuld, future’s fate, had shown him his path long ago. He was certain Garnissa felt it too, perhaps even more clearly.

“You’re looking quite pleased,” he teased her. “Have you been casting runes?”

She nodded happily, a little smile on her face.

“You’ve no need to. I am yours, Garnissa. Always.” He embraced her tightly.

They lay down on the grass, wrapped in each other’s arms, and listened to the merriment from the bonfire. The night was cool, signaling winter would soon arrive. Bjarni’s eyes grew heavy as the laughter lulled him to sleep.

He knew not how long he slept, his body a still stone upon the earth. The mist began to grow colder, sharper, like stinging nettles coming on the wind to find him, and he awoke.

He heard rustling and forced his eyes open to find a woman staring down at him. She had long, raven black hair that was woven into a crown of braids, a queen’s crown. Her arms and neck were adorned with heavy bands of gold encrusted with priceless gems. Bjarni could not speak. She was the goddess Freyja surely.

She bowed her head and acknowledged him. “You are dying, Bjarni Herjólfsson. As am I.”

*

Bjarni woke from the dream to a world of snow and ice. He was lying by the same river where he had asked Garnissa to marry him thirteen years ago, only now his body was naked, exposed mercilessly to the elements and shivering with cold. He knew he would be dead before nightfall, as he had planned.

The goddess who had visited him must have been a fylgje, a follower, who showed themselves in dreams at the time of a person’s death. He had felt a sense of kinship upon seeing her.

Where she had stood, a niviarsiaq flower now grew, struggling to bloom despite the frost. It made him think of Garnissa, and tears rolled from his eyes, freezing on his cheeks before they could fall.