Writing Prompts:
1. "Where did you get that?"
2. Something about him was just off.
3. "I'm here about the..."
4. The room was lined with books.
Something about him was just off. Sir Aleksander Wolff had his hands in everything from the economic to politics. He had friends in high places and was most famous for his collection in antiquities. His favorite being from Viking Culture. Sometimes he lent his collection to a few museums around the world. Most who know him said he was a bit eccentric but I sensed something more. A deep disturbance. I immediately didn't trust him. But you didn't pass up the opportunity to meet with one of the college's benefactors. I met him for coffee at this little cafe on campus.
I stared into my coffee watching the steam slowly rise from the black brew. I stirred in the cream and sugar watching the dark brew turn a bright mocha color. I became entranced by the whirlpool I was making. Then I found myself no longer in the cafe but on that frozen tundra. The bitter cold wind brushing against my ruddy cheeks and there ahead of me was the same damn tree.
"Professor Lindström?"
I snapped back to reality to see Sir Wolff before me. His eyes studious as if searching or expecting me to tell him something.
"Sorry," I sputtered.
"Another dizzy spell?" he asked curiously.
"No I space out too sometimes," I laughed. "My aunt used to say that if I wasn't careful then I would run straight into traffic while my head was in the clouds."
Wolff sat before me. I offered to buy him coffee but he preferred tea.
"So what does a rich man like yourself want with me?" I asked sipping my coffee feeling the warmth immediately melt away the ice in my bones.
"I've recently acquired some interesting artifacts that I would like for you to appraise."
"What kind of items?"
"Viking of course," Wolff smiled. "I've read many of your books on Viking culture and lore."
"I'm flattered," I blushed.
"There's an item in particular that I want you to see," Wolff pulled out his briefcase and opened it on the table. It was encased in glass in a dark velvet inline. It was a vellum manuscript or part of one. It was one page. It depicted Yggdrasil, the World Tree of Norse Mythology.
"Where did you get this?" I marveled.
"Auction," he smiled seeing my face light up.
I knew better than to touch it with my bare hands though my fingers itched for me to hold it. My vision kept returning to that tree in my dreams.
"When do you want me to--"
"Would tomorrow be too soon for you?" he asked smiling broadly.
* * * * *
I went to Sir Wolff's house... or manor I should say. It was one of the old buildings in the city from the swinging 20s. When I came to the black iron gate with it's dragon heads I felt a bit intimidated. I walked through the gates and jogged up the limestone steps. The brisk air was exhilirating but I preferred to be in a warm house after hopping a few buses across the city.
I pressed on the intercom. A human though still mechanical voice answered: "Yes."
"I'm professor Lindström," I spoke in a clear voice. "I'm here about the--"
"Sir Wolff is expecting you." The voice responded. I heard a buzzing noise then let myself in. It was a grand hall that made me feel like I was sent back in time. I could feel the history here. I turned when I heard some foot steps clapping on the marble floor and I saw a butler who had a Downton Abbey vibe. It's probably what he was going for.
"Sir Wolff is waiting in his study, Miss," he spoke in a low grim voice, his face wrinkled with time and perhaps so much frowning. "He's been waiting for you." The butler took my jacket before I could even respond as he led me down the dark hall.
"Nice place," I commented attempting small talk. "Did Sir Wolff rent this place?"
"Rent?" the butler turned up his nose, his face even more creased with disdain at my apparently ignorant question.
"I just mean this belongs to the city doesn't it?"
"Certainly not," the butler explained. "Sir Wolff owns this estate and many others in the city."
I started thinking about it and realized it really was a dumb question to ask. Already I was offending strangers.
* * * * *
The room was lined with books. Most of them very rare books dating back to the 13th century. Sir Wolff was sitting by the fire place reading a book when he looked up and smiled at the sight of me.
"Professor Lindström," he sounded ecstatic. "Right on time I see."
"When someone brings me such a piece as you did I like to be prudent," I said shaking his hand. Seeing Wolff's fancy suit I suddenly felt underdressed in my simple jeans and gray blouse.
"I have the rest of the manuscript in here," Wolff led the way further into his study. He led me to a circular room where he kept most of his treasures from BC to the Renaissance. I tried not to gape. I had seen private collections before but this was breath taking. I tried to refocus on the task at hand. There in the middle of the room was the rest of the manuscript. It laid in state under a glass box. Again my fingers itched to hold it. I brought my white cloth gloves.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Wolff puffed up with pride. "I'm most interested in what it says."
It was written in runes, language of the Vikings. It told legends of a tree, a world tree that could give immortality to those deemed worthy.
"It really is a beauty," I marveled. The closer I got to the book the more it became familiar to me though I had never seen it before. The moment I touched it's pages I had a vision. My spirit seemed to fly out of my body as I was suddenly not in the manor anymore but outside in a field, a field of battle littered with dead bodies. Crows and Ravens circled above me in the stormy sky. Some picked at the rotting flesh off the bones. In the midst of the bodies was a large door, an ornate door with Nordic knots carved into it's golden surface. It opened before me, slowly creaking and from the door came a blinding light. I shielded my eyes for a moment until I heard a voice calling to me from the door. I dared to look and saw the same tree in the frozen tundra.
I tried to make my way across the field of death but a few of the corpses rose back up as if they were never dead at all. I jumped back when I found one in front of me, his eye with an arrow sticking out of it. The corpses surrounded me but just as I screamed I was back in the manor, on the floor with Sir Wolff smiling down at me.
"So, Professor," he said in a soft voice. "What did you see? Did you find the tree?"
It was then I became filled with dread again, my body cold. What had I gotten myself into?
* * * * *
This is brilliant. Where can I get your books?
ReplyDeleteLol I don't have books published but I do have a finished short story and I'm working on a prequel and a sequel right now for it: "Sirens of the Belt."
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