Chapter 9 – The Southern Lights

 

The people of Blundergard had settled into a comfortable life. The longhouses were strong. The fishing was plentiful. The crops grew well. Even the wallabies had mostly forgiven Rikus. Life, for the first time in many years, was peaceful.

Rikus found this deeply suspicious. "Nothing has exploded in months," he remarked one evening.

The settlers exchanged nervous glances. Sven the Goat stopped chewing and looked concerned. Whenever Rikus noticed a lack of disasters, one usually arrived shortly afterward.

That winter brought something none of the settlers had seen before. One cold evening, strange lights appeared in the southern sky. Great curtains of green and blue shimmered above the horizon. Waves of silver danced among the stars. The lights twisted and swirled like spirits sailing across the heavens.

The settlers gathered outside to watch. The navigator was fascinated. The blacksmith was speechless. The children stared in wonder.

Only Rikus seemed absolutely certain he understood what was happening. "It's a message."

The settlers groaned. "A message?" asked the navigator.

"From Odin."

"Of course it is."

Rikus nodded confidently.The lights brightened. The colours shifted. A great arc of green swept across the  sky 

"There!" shouted Rikus,"the All-Father points the way!"

The navigator looked up. "I think that's just light."

"No."

"It's definitely light," retorted the Navigator.

"It's a divine instruction" stated Rikus authoritatively.

The argument continued for most of the evening. The lights continued dancing. Eventually the settlers went to bed.

Rikus did not. He sat outside watching the heavens. The lights moved and shifted. They seemed almost alive. And in his imagination, they pointed toward the south-western horizon.

By morning, he had made up his mind. "We sail tomorrow at dawn."

The settlers stared. "We what?"

"We follow Odin's message."

The navigator rubbed his temples. "There is no message."

"There is."

"There isn't."

"There is."

"There isn't."

Sven wandered away before the discussion could continue. The goat knew from experience that logic rarely survived prolonged exposure to Rikus.

Three days later a small expedition departed Blundergard. The Rikmans-yflir once again carried Rikus, Sven, and a reluctant crew into unknown waters. The settlers waved farewell. Most assumed they would return disappointed.

History suggested otherwise. For nearly two weeks they followed the southern coastline. They discovered hidden coves, sheltered harbours, rich fishing grounds and freshwater rivers. Everywhere they sailed, useful discoveries appeared.

The navigator began recording everything. Maps slowly filled with notes.New routes were charted. Future settlements became possible. Even he was forced to admit the voyage had value.

"Pure coincidence," he insisted. 

"Naturally," agreed Rikus.

The coastline eventually turned westward. Great cliffs rose from the sea. Dense forests covered the hills. Strange birds followed the ship. The expedition pushed onward.

One morning a thick fog descended visibility vanished. The sea became silent. Even the waves seemed muted. The crew rowed cautiously. Nobody liked fog.

Especially after the Kraken. Suddenly the lookout shouted. "Rocks!"

The warning came too late. The Rikmans-yflir struck a submerged reef. The ship lurched violently. Sailors tumbled across the deck. Rikus landed in a barrel. Again.

The crew rushed to assess the damage. Miraculously, the ship remained afloat. The reef had caught the vessel before it reached a much larger field of hidden rocks.

Had they continued at full speed, the expedition might have been lost. The navigator examined the charts. Then he examined the reef

Then he stared at Rikus. "You've done it again," Stammered the navigator.

"What?"

"By following imaginary instructions from the sky, you've accidentally discovered a safe passage through one of the most dangerous stretches of coastline imaginable."

Rikus smiled. "Excellent."

The navigator looked exhausted. The expedition spent several days mapping the area.

Future sailors would later refer to the route as Rikmans Passage. Though many privately preferred the name Lucky Fool Channel.

Neither title bothered Rikus. As winter deepened, the Southern Lights appeared again. One evening they danced above the ocean with extraordinary brilliance. The crew gathered silently upon the deck. Even the navigator had stopped arguing.

The lights reflected upon the water. Green became silver, silver became blue. The entire sea seemed to glow. For a moment nobody spoke. The world felt vast, mysterious, beautiful.

Rikus stood beside Sven at the bow. "Do you think Odin really sent them" Asked Sven?

Sven looked at him. The goat remained silent. As always, Rikus nodded.

"Fair answer."

The lights continued their celestial dance. And whether they were messages from the gods or simply wonders of nature, one fact could not be denied.

By following them, the people of Blundergard had expanded their world once more. New harbours had been found, new routes had been charted new stories had been born. When the expedition finally returned home, the settlers celebrated.

The maps were displayed in the meeting hall. The discoveries were recorded. The voyage became another chapter in the growing legend of Rikus Rikmansen.

And high above Blundergard, the Southern Lights continued to shine. Watching, guiding, or perhaps simply laughing.

For by now, even the heavens seemed amused by the adventures of the luckiest fool who ever sailed. And somewhere beyond the horizon, new mysteries still awaited.

The saga was far from over.