The Case of the Golden Seed by Bagley Cyn

Author:Bagley, Cyn [Bagley, Cyn]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

The plane ride from England to New York was more turbulent that usual. It was as if Thor in connection with the air sprites were trying to force Farbiorn Neilsen to crash-land into the Atlantic Ocean. He knew better. Ragnorak had had already happened. It had been more intense than the Christian's Armageddon. When Christianity had taken over the continent and the outer islands, the Norse Gods had fallen under the iron fist of the Christian fathers.

It was only at the intervention of Christ (avatar of this new religion) that had saved Odin and few other head gods. Buddha was probably incarnated as a grasshopper. He laughed at this thought.

So Odin's line was given to him as avatars. Unfortunately for him, he had not been able to jump into a new body since Ragnorak. This body, Farbiorn, couldn't die, but was becoming so old that it was hard to hold it together. Even to his own nose, he smelled of baby powder and corruption.

"Are you OK?" asked an anxious flight attendant. She had been checking on him during the entire flight. Probably thought he would drop dead. There was surely tons of red tape for dead bodies. He smiled grimly at the thought. The flight attendant involuntarily stepped back.

He growled. "I'm fine." She tried to pull the blanket up above his shoulders. "I'm fine." He tried to shout. She gave him doe eyes and finally walked back to her station.

Every one of his supposed avatars died when he tried to jump into him. Farbiorn wasn't sure if it was because they were mixed. He had always done better with family that had not intermarried.

Or maybe it was because he had lost much of his power when his people forsook him. Really, since there had been a resurgence of Norse paganism, he had finally been able to do more than sleep. Ironically the resurgence was in North America. In his heyday it was a little backwater place that his warriors used to refuel and have fun fighting the natives.

It would be nice to have a young body again. Immortality and eternal youth did not go hand in hand. He could prove it with this withered body.

It was eighteen hours of sheer hell. The flight attendant kept telling him that if he did not move around that a blood clot would kill him. This modern life with all its scientific knowledge was confusing. He really liked the old days of faith.

Finally he was out of the airplane and hobbling into the terminal. There were huge lines with people and bags in front of agents who checked passports and luggage.

Farbiorn's luggage consisted of one bag. He was too feeble to carry much more. His passport was tucked inside his jacket. He pulled it out. His ticket was tucked carefully in the passport.

It had been many years since he had any warriors. At least one servant would be nice. But, today he tried to make himself look normal. As normal as an old old old man could look.

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