Erik and the Gods

Chapter 1 – Erik, Son of Man

CHAPTER 1 – ERIK, SON OF MANFor a brief moment, the flash of light remained strangely clear in the night sky. Then it was gone, washed away by the rain that had begun to fall outside. It was unlike any lightning Erik had ever seen before.

He counted the seconds slowly: “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,” and then, BOOM!

Seven kilometres away, he calculated. But still, the rumbling was so loud and clear that it sounded like the lightning could have struck somewhere close by.

He switched off the light in his room and walked over to the window. Raindrops fell heavily to the ground. Moments ago the wind had been whipping through the trees but now he only heard the gentle pitter-patter of rain. The ground was dry and thirsty and the drops slowly turned the dust black, like a map being coloured in.

A good old fashioned thunderstorm was on its way. One of those storms where you got completely drenched as soon as you stepped outside. Erik shivered. The air was already heavy with the smell of rain.

Another flash of lightning bolted towards the ground. “One, two, three, four, five, six”, he counted before he heard the rumbling. The lightning reminded him of the light sabres Luke Skywalker and the evil Darth Vader used in the Star Wars movies. Zzzoooom!

The rain was picking up. The ground could not absorb all the water and small puddles were beginning to form. Although the sky was threatening and dark, everything outside was well lit by the street lamps.

Erik wasn’t scared. He was thirteen now, almost fourteen, and he was not afraid of being home alone, not even during a thunderstorm.

Another bolt of lightning etched itself into the sky, and again, this one was different from the other flashes in the distance.

This one was straighter and somehow more targeted on its path towards the Earth.

One, two, three, four, five… and then the crack of thunder. It was far more violent than the crashes that followed the other bolts of lightning.

It was strangely fascinating to watch and listen to the powerful forces of nature. And also a little scary to think about how dangerous lightning could be, wherever it might strike.

Erik had once seen a big old oak tree that had been split down the middle by lightning. It stood in a field like a ghost tree, black and charred, in a sea of green.

Then another one, even bigger and brighter than the last. For a brief second, the clear blue and yellow flash lit up the room, casting long shadows across the floor.

Erik counted: one, two, three, four… and then a boom so mighty that it made his football trophies rattle in the glass cabinet on the wall.

He was getting worried; it looked like the strange, clear bolts of lightning were headed straight for him. Imagine the destruction if a bolt like that were to hit the house! He could be lying unconscious while the house burned down around him!

He walked over to the cabinet, pushed the trophies back a little and pulled out his football boots. They were brand new; he had only used them once, during a training session. But they were good boots and there were definitely a few goals in them.

A streak of yellow light bolted towards the ground. One, two, three… and then the thunder rumbled even louder than before.

Now he was really becoming alarmed. The unusual lightning was getting far too close. What was he supposed to do if something happened? Did the house have a lightning conductor? He didn’t know.

He knew it was very rare for lightning to strike a house, but it could happen. And if it did, he would have to call for help straight away. But wait, no, the telephone would probably be destroyed by the lightning too, and then what?

What did people do in the old days when something like this happened? He could understand why people were so afraid of lightning and thunder back then. There was no way of protecting yourself.

Nowadays there were always storm warnings on the telly but in the old days a storm like that could come like a bolt from the blue, just like this one had. He felt the fear slowly creeping up his spine, all the way up to the tiny hairs on the back of his neck. He was beginning to sweat.

Each flash of lightning was followed by a booming and rumbling outside, but that did not bother him. The scary part was the unusually large bolts of lightning that seemed to be getting closer and closer all the time.

And then another one. He could see it distinctly as it formed in the dark clouds above and then exploded towards the ground. One, two… and then a tremendous boom.

Erik covered his ears. The sounds were so loud that it was starting to hurt. Only two kilometres away. Maybe it had even hit that small house at the edge of the woods. Hans and Anne lived there, he remembered, even though he had only been to visit them once. They were a little odd, with their entire garden filled with plants they used for herbal medicine, and a few poisonous plants too. When they went around the garden, it sounded like they were talking to the plants. They also liked to play the guitar to each other, even though they were quite old. They called themselves naturopaths and they healed people with their hands. Erik and his friends called the place ‘the witch house.’

Erik looked towards their house. During the day, he could see the house from his window and now it was completely dark, with no signs of fire. The moon was hidden somewhere behind the dark clouds and maybe that was why Erik was able to make out some of the clouds as they raced across the sky. Everything was in motion up there, the clouds swirled together to form new shapes as if someone was playing with them, or blowing them, as if they were being shoved aside to prepare the way for something.

Erik’s thoughts were interrupted by a bright yellow flash of lightning that nearly blinded him. One… he managed to count before the windows began to rattle from the powerful thunderclap.

Erik took a deep breath. The storm was only one kilometre away now. That was too close for comfort. The large lightning bolts were headed directly for him! Something big and ominous was headed his way, something uncontrollable that would only leave death and destruction in its wake! There was something almost… godlike about a thunderstorm like this.

How did they used to imagine it in the old days? He didn’t remember much about the old sagas, just that they were very exciting. Wasn’t there something about some kind of god of war? He would ride a chariot across the sky during thunderstorms, and wasn’t it pulled by a team of black horses – or were they goats? In any case, this god had a huge hammer that could create thunder and lightning. The god’s name was Thor, and Thursday was named after him.

Erik looked up at the sky. Rain was lashing down from the leaden sky and some of the clouds up there could easily pass for a chariot like the one Thor was meant to ride. It had to be one angry god up there, he imagined, driving around flinging lightning bolts at the Earth, maybe even to punish those who didn’t believe in him.

The lightning struck again and Erik fell to the ground, dazed. It felt as if he had been knocked over by a powerful blow, and in the same instant he heard a thunderclap so loud it nearly burst his eardrums. Everything went black around him. Had he been blinded by the bright light, or had he been knocked unconscious for a moment?

He pushed himself up and looked around. The glass cupboard had come open but his football trophies were still inside. A vase had tipped over on the windowsill and the water was dripping on the floor. It was the only sound to be heard, otherwise it was deathly quiet.

He took another look around and strained his ears. Nothing. Nothing burning either. The house hadn’t caught on fire.

He got up carefully and went over to the window to see where the lightning had struck. The rain had suddenly stopped and it was now eerily quiet outside. It was an expectant quiet, more like the calm before a storm than after. He pressed his nose flat against the cold window and stared outside.

The sky was still black and threatening but at least he could see the moon shining brightly now. The blanket of clouds was breaking up. Steam rose from the dark and saturated ground and a blackbird began to sing. The thunderstorm was over. Erik smiled in relief, but then he froze! A pair of feet were poking out below the garden gate. Big, hairy feet filling a pair of huge sandals with straps winding around some rather large ankles. It could only be a man.

The gate opened wide and there was a glint of something shiny just beyond the gate. It was a long, golden sword hanging from a wide, leather belt that was fastened with a large, gleaming buckle. A pair of grey trousers with a tunic hanging over them. The upper body was covered in bright silvery chain mail. Standing there, completely still, was a giant of a man.

Erik hardly dared to raise his eyes, afraid of the gaze that would meet him. He could already feel the man’s eyes burning into him.

They were blue! He had long, red hair that matched his untamed beard. He wore a helmet with large horns sticking out of either side. In one hand he held a set of reins and in the other, a large hammer! On his hands he wore a pair of iron gloves.

“Come on, son!” the man boomed in a commanding voice and pointed at his cart, an old war chariot with two steaming goats standing in front of it.