The screaming started before sunrise.
Elias woke to the sound of men dying somewhere beyond the cliffs, their voices swallowed by the violent roar of the North Sea.
He shot upright on his straw mattress, heart hammering inside his chest as icy wind rattled the wooden walls of his family’s fishing hut.
Outside, the storm had turned savage.
Rain slammed against the village like thrown stones.
Thunder rolled across the black sky.
Somewhere in the darkness below the cliffs, something massive crashed against the shoreline hard enough to shake the earth beneath the settlement.
Elias grabbed his fur cloak and rushed outside barefoot.
The village of Skallvik sat high above the sea on a stretch of jagged Norwegian coastline where winter seemed to last forever.
Most mornings smelled of smoke, salt, and drying fish.
But this morning carried something else.
Blood.
Villagers stumbled from their homes carrying torches and axes.
Faces twisted with fear.
Children cried while dogs barked wildly toward the shore.
Old Gunnar, the village elder, pointed toward the cliffs with a trembling hand.
Something came out of the sea.
Nobody moved.
Another crash echoed below.
Elias felt it deep in his ribs.
At sixteen winters old, he had spent his entire life listening to stories about sea monsters and gods sleeping beneath the waves.
His father called those stories drunken nonsense meant to frighten children into obedience.
But standing there beneath the storm filled sky, Elias suddenly realized the old stories might be true.
Then the screaming stopped.
The silence felt worse.
His father, Rowan, tightened his grip on a fishing spear and ordered everyone back inside.
No one goes near the shore until daylight.
But Elias saw the fear in his father’s eyes.
That terrified him more than the storm.
Hours later, dawn finally pushed weak gray light across the sea.
The storm had vanished as suddenly as it came.
No wind.
No thunder.
Only silence.
The villagers gathered carefully near the cliff path overlooking the shoreline below.
Elias stood beside his father and stared down at the beach.
Every fishing boat was gone.
Destroyed.
Pieces of shattered wood floated in the tide like broken bones.
But that was not the worst part.
Something enormous rested in the sand near the waterline.
At first Elias thought it was a boulder.
Then it moved.
A low murmur spread through the villagers.
The thing was shaped like an egg.
An impossibly huge egg nearly twice the height of a grown man.
Its shell shimmered blue and green beneath the pale morning light, almost like fish scales beneath water.
Strange markings covered its surface in twisting patterns that seemed to move whenever Elias looked directly at them.
Nobody dared speak.
Even the ocean felt afraid.
Old Gunnar whispered a prayer under his breath.
Rowan grabbed Elias by the shoulder and pulled him back from the cliff edge.
Forget what you saw.
We leave it alone.
But Elias could not stop staring.
The egg pulsed.
Slow.
Steady.
Like a heartbeat.
Then he noticed the dead seals scattered across the beach around it.
Every one of them looked twisted apart from the inside.
His stomach tightened.
Something alive was inside that shell.
The villagers argued for hours.
Some believed the gods had sent a blessing.
Others called it a curse that needed to be burned before nightfall.
Old Gunnar looked terrified.
He recognized the runes carved into the shell.
Not all of them.
Just enough.
Ancient markings older than the Viking kings.
Symbols tied to prophecies forbidden even among the elders.
By midday, fear had spread through the entire settlement.
Nobody went near the cliffs.
Nobody touched the water.
Then the strangers arrived.
Their longship appeared from the northern fog like a ghost.
Black sails.
Dragon carved prow.
Forty armed raiders.
The villagers panicked instantly.
Most of Skallvik’s warriors were away trading inland, leaving only fishermen, elders, and boys too young for battle.
Rowan gathered every weapon he could find while mothers dragged children into hiding.
Elias watched from behind a storage hut as the raiders climbed the cliffs carrying axes and shields stained dark with old blood.
Their leader towered above the others.
A mountain of a man named Sten.
One eye clouded white from an old wound.
His beard braided with silver rings taken from dead enemies.
A scar ran from his forehead down his neck like cracked lightning.
Sten had raided half the northern coast.
Entire villages disappeared when his ship appeared offshore.
And somehow Elias knew immediately why he had come.
The egg.
Sten marched directly toward the cliff path leading to the beach below.
Old Gunnar stepped in front of him with shaking hands.
Whatever lies below does not belong to men.
Sten smiled.
Then buried an axe in the old man’s chest.
The villagers screamed.
Blood splashed across the frozen ground.
Elias froze in horror as Gunnar collapsed dead at his feet.
Sten yanked the axe free and looked toward the sea.
I crossed three kingdoms following whispers of this thing.
No fisherman will stand in my way.
The raiders surged forward.
Chaos exploded across the village.
Houses burned.
Men died.
Women fled carrying children into the forest.
Elias watched his father spear one raider through the throat before another smashed an axe into Rowan’s shoulder hard enough to drop him to his knees.
Rage flooded Elias so fast it almost blinded him.
He grabbed a hunting knife and sprinted toward the cliff path.
His father shouted after him.
But Elias kept running.
Down the icy trail.
Past crashing waves.
Straight toward the impossible egg resting beside the sea.
The air changed as he approached it.
Warmer somehow.
The runes glowing brighter with every step.
Then Elias heard it.
A sound coming from inside the shell.
Not scratching.
Not movement.
A voice.
Deep.
Ancient.
Calling his name.
Fear nearly stopped him cold.
But behind him he heard the raiders coming.
Sten’s heavy boots thundered against stone.
Elias reached the egg first.
Up close, it looked even less natural.
Veins of silver light pulsed beneath the shell.
The symbols shifted like living things beneath his fingertips.
The voice came again inside his mind.
Protect me.
Elias stumbled backward in shock.
Then Sten appeared at the bottom of the path with six raiders behind him.
For a moment nobody moved.
The giant raider stared at the egg with greedy disbelief shining in his one good eye.
So the stories were true.
The shell suddenly cracked.
A sharp sound split the air like breaking ice across a frozen lake.
Every raider stepped back.
Another crack spread across the surface.
Blue light spilled through the fractures.
The ocean itself began pulling away from shore as if the sea feared what was about to emerge.
Sten raised his axe.
Kill the boy.
Two raiders charged forward.
Elias barely had time to lift his knife before the entire beach shook violently beneath his feet.
The egg exploded.
A roar erupted across the coastline so powerful it shattered nearby rocks and sent men screaming to the ground.
Something enormous rose from the shattered shell.
Scaled.
Colossal.
Terrifying.
A massive serpent head lifted into the storm gray sky, its glowing golden eyes locking directly onto Elias while seawater hissed off shimmering blue green scales.
The raiders dropped their weapons instantly.
One began sobbing prayers.
Another tried to run.
The serpent opened its jaws.
Rows of teeth longer than swords gleamed inside its mouth.
Then the creature spoke directly into Elias’s mind.
At last… the guardian has come.
Sten screamed and charged anyway.
Sten charged the serpent like a madman.
His axe rose high above his head as he roared across the beach, boots crushing broken pieces of the glowing shell beneath him.
The other raiders screamed for him to stop, but greed had already devoured whatever fear remained inside him.
Elias could not move.
The serpent’s golden eyes held him frozen in place.
Ancient.
Endless.
Like staring into the birth of the world itself.
Sten swung the axe straight toward the creature’s neck.
The serpent moved faster than lightning.
One massive coil snapped through the air and struck Sten mid charge.
The impact sounded like a tree exploding during a storm.
The giant raider flew across the beach and smashed into the cliff wall hard enough to crack solid stone.
His body dropped lifeless into the surf.
Silence swallowed the shoreline.
The remaining raiders fell to their knees trembling.
The serpent lowered its enormous head toward Elias.
Warm breath washed over him carrying the strange scent of saltwater and burning cedar.
Up close, the creature was even larger than he imagined.
Every scale shimmered with patterns that looked almost alive, shifting like stars trapped beneath deep ocean water.
Then the voice returned inside his mind.
You stood when others fled.
Elias swallowed hard, barely able to breathe.
The serpent studied him carefully.
Fear lives inside you.
Yet you remained.
That matters.
The ocean behind the creature suddenly surged violently.
Massive waves crashed against the cliffs while dark clouds twisted overhead like living shadows.
Elias finally found his voice.
What are you?
The answer hit his mind like thunder.
I am Jormund.
The serpent bound beneath the seas.
The end of kingdoms.
The shadow beneath Ragnarok.
Elias felt cold spread through his entire body.
Every child in the north knew the old legends.
The World Serpent.
The destroyer destined to rise during the final battle at the end of time.
Impossible.
Gods were stories.
Monsters were stories.
But this thing was real.
And standing only feet away from him.
Behind Elias, one terrified raider suddenly lunged for a fallen spear.
Jormund’s glowing eyes shifted instantly.
The serpent opened its jaws.
A sound erupted from deep within its throat.
Not a roar.
Something worse.
The beach exploded with force.
Sand and seawater blasted outward as the raider disintegrated where he stood.
One second he existed.
The next, nothing remained except blood mist blowing across the rocks.
The surviving raiders broke completely.
Some ran toward the cliffs screaming.
Others threw themselves into the freezing sea trying to escape.
None made it far.
The ocean itself seemed alive now.
Dark shapes moved beneath the waves.
Huge.
Watching.
Waiting.
Jormund ignored them and focused entirely on Elias.
The chains weaken.
The words echoed painfully inside Elias’s skull.
The old gods are dying.
The world approaches its final age.
Elias shook his head in confusion.
I do not understand any of this.
You will.
The serpent lowered its massive head closer.
And then Elias saw something impossible.
Pain.
Not physical pain.
Loneliness.
Buried deep inside those glowing eyes was endless isolation stretching across centuries.
This creature was feared by gods and monsters alike.
Yet somehow it also seemed utterly alone.
Elias felt his fear soften for the first time.
Why me?
Jormund remained silent for several seconds.
Then images exploded across Elias’s mind.
Burning cities.
Frozen oceans.
The sky split open by rivers of fire.
Gigantic wolves devouring the sun.
Armies of dead warriors marching beneath black storms.
And standing at the center of it all was Elias himself.
Older in spirit but unchanged in body.
Watching the end of the world beside the serpent.
Elias staggered backward in horror.
No.
This cannot be real.
It is already beginning.
The serpent’s voice carried terrible certainty.
The gods know it.
The earth knows it.
Soon the final war will come.
Elias tried to breathe through the panic crushing his chest.
I am nobody.
A fisherman’s son.
A child.
Jormund’s eyes narrowed.
That is why you were chosen.
Not for power.
Not for greed.
You protected what you did not understand simply because it was right.
Few gods possess such purity.
The wind intensified around them.
Above the cliffs, Skallvik burned.
Smoke climbed into the darkening sky.
Elias suddenly remembered his father.
His heart nearly stopped.
Rowan.
Without another word he turned and sprinted toward the cliff path.
The serpent did not stop him.
Villagers screamed as Elias reached the settlement.
Homes had collapsed into flames.
Bodies littered the muddy streets.
Survivors huddled together in terror as the remaining raiders fought desperately to escape back toward their ship.
Then Elias saw his father.
Rowan leaned against a shattered wagon clutching his bleeding shoulder while trying to keep two raiders away from several hiding children.
Elias grabbed a fallen axe and charged.
One raider turned too slowly.
The axe buried deep into his neck.
Hot blood sprayed across Elias’s hands.
The second raider rushed him instantly.
Elias barely blocked the incoming blade before Rowan drove a spear through the man’s ribs.
The raider collapsed choking on blood.
For a moment father and son simply stared at each other.
Then Rowan noticed the glowing marks spreading across Elias’s skin.
Thin silver lines pulsing beneath his flesh like living runes.
Fear filled his father’s face.
What happened down there?
Before Elias could answer, the ground trembled violently.
Everyone looked toward the sea.
Jormund was rising.
The serpent’s massive body stretched across the water farther than the eye could follow.
Coils thicker than houses twisted beneath the crashing waves as the creature lifted high above the coastline.
The villagers fell to their knees in terror.
Some prayed.
Others wept openly.
Jormund’s voice rolled across the entire settlement without sound.
The age of silence ends.
The ocean exploded upward behind the serpent.
Something massive emerged from beneath the depths.
Another serpent.
Then another.
Smaller than Jormund but still enormous enough to destroy ships with ease.
The sea was full of them.
Elias realized the horrifying truth.
The egg had never been alone.
It was a nest.
Panic spread through the village instantly.
People ran toward the forest carrying whatever they could grab.
Rowan gripped Elias by the shoulders.
Tell me the truth.
What did that thing do to you?
Elias looked down at the glowing marks beneath his skin.
Then the answer came to him instinctively.
It chose me.
Rowan stepped back like he had been struck.
No.
Elias nodded slowly.
I saw what is coming.
The world is changing.
His father’s eyes filled with heartbreak.
You are still my son.
But Elias already knew that would not remain true forever.
The runes continued spreading.
The cold no longer bothered him.
His heartbeat slowed strangely inside his chest.
Something ancient had entered him on that beach.
Something permanent.
Suddenly Jormund turned its massive head toward the horizon.
Its glowing eyes narrowed.
Fear rippled through the serpent.
Not fear for itself.
Fear for Elias.
The gods have found us.
The clouds split apart overhead.
A bolt of white lightning crashed from the heavens into the ocean beyond the bay.
Then another.
Then dozens more.
A shape appeared inside the storm.
Towering.
Armored.
Holding a hammer glowing with divine fire.
The villagers screamed.
Even the serpents beneath the sea retreated.
Thor had arrived.
The god’s voice thundered across the coastline.
Jormund!
The skies shook with fury.
You dare awaken before the appointed hour?
Lightning exploded around the village as Thor descended toward the shore like a living storm.
Jormund coiled protectively around the bay.
The final age approaches sooner than even you realize, thunder god.
Thor raised Mjolnir.
Then his eyes locked onto Elias.
Everything changed.
The god stared at the glowing runes beneath the boy’s skin.
Shock crossed his face.
Impossible.
Jormund’s voice darkened.
He belongs to fate now.
Thor stepped forward slowly.
The boy carries the Mark of Eternity.
Elias felt every villager staring at him.
Rowan looked devastated.
Thor’s expression hardened.
Do you understand what this means, child?
Elias could not answer.
The god pointed the hammer toward him.
You will not die.
Not by age.
Not by sickness.
Not even by time itself.
The words hit harder than any weapon.
The villagers backed away from Elias in fear.
Even Rowan looked uncertain now.
Thor’s voice softened slightly.
You have been bound to Ragnarok.
When the final battle comes, you will witness the death of gods and the destruction of this world.
Elias felt tears burn his eyes.
He never asked for this.
Never wanted it.
Jormund’s massive gaze remained fixed on him.
Yet fate rarely asks permission.
The storm intensified.
Thor slowly lowered his hammer.
The time is not yet upon us.
Then he looked directly at Elias one final time.
Live carefully, immortal child.
Everyone you love will fade long before you do.
With that, the thunder god vanished into the storm.
Silence returned.
The fires burned lower across the ruined village.
Jormund began retreating into the sea along with the other serpents disappearing beneath the black waves.
Before vanishing completely, the World Serpent spoke one final time inside Elias’s mind.
When the sky burns red and the dead march upon the earth, find me.
Then the ocean swallowed him whole.
Years passed.
Then decades.
Then centuries.
Kingdoms rose and collapsed into dust.
Empires burned.
Religions changed.
But Elias never aged beyond sixteen.
He watched everyone he loved grow old and die while he remained trapped in the same unchanging body.
Over time, people began calling him many names.
The Deathless Boy.
The Sea Guardian.
The Cursed One.
He carried them all in silence.
And deep beneath the oceans of the world, Jormund waited.
Sleeping.
Growing.
Preparing.
Now, after hundreds of lonely years, Elias stands alone on a cliff overlooking a dark and dying sea.
The signs have returned.
The sun grows weaker every winter.
The oceans boil during moonless nights.
And far below the waves, something enormous has finally begun to move again.
Ragnarok is coming.
