The summer was weird. The weather was reasonably good, but there was a strangeness in the air. A lot of people seemed to be restless. Even more restless, that is, than is common during the summer, when the light nights seem to make many Icelanders slightly overexcited. It was as if a weird epidemic of bad dreams was haunting the nation.
In June there were several reports of blood in the sea. The local police officers or sometimes the Coast Guard were alerted in Vopnafjörður, Kalfafellsstadur, Ísafjörður and several times near Reykjavik, to attend what was supposedly several whales in distress near the shore bleeding into the sea. None of the events offered any explanation why different people had seen and sometimes smelled the sea to have been covered in blood, on different shores all around the country.
In July, great flocks of strange birds were sighted. Iceland is rich in marine birdlife, but these seemed to be dark terrestrial birds. Farmers were worried that the invasion would result in their crops getting eaten, because such birds don’t have much natural food on the island nation. But miraculously no damages were caused. The birds were seen sweeping on the sky, but no one seemed to know what they ate or where they roosted.
August saw an influx of false alarms of volcanic activity. A hiker saw Hekla belching smoke and ash, but when he reached the nearest point of cell reception, nothing was happening. A family ice climbing on Vatnajökull got a fright of their lives when the daughter swore, she saw lava fountaining to the sky from Bárðarbunga. The Lakagígar were seen spewing vapor and lava, and yet nothing out of the ordinary shaking registered on the seismometers.
When autumn came and the Allting resumed session, it was established that it wasn’t over. Jóhanna had recurring nightmares, filled with blood and gunfire. This could have been a delayed reaction to the crisis of 2009 and to what could have happened then, if the prime minister were the only one with nightmares. But no. Oddný dreamt of a threatening, breathing darkness. Steingrímur kept seeing blighted fields almost every night. Unnur’s restless nights were filled with storm clouds billowing from the sea in all directions, threatening to engulf Iceland completely.
The national decision makers were worried. Ólafur laughed at them at first, but as the same dreams kept repeating, it was becoming obvious that everything wasn’t right. Nobody knew why some people were riddled with bad dreams while others weren’t. If it were in the air, or water, then certainly it should affect everyone? It was also oddly specific, with each other having their own nightmare. Until it wasn’t. Early October the pattern changed. Now Steingrímur would see the gunfire, and Oddný the storm. And the next night it was different again.
Mid-October saw the brightest and weirdest northern lights ever. People of both the political leadership and the common townspeople saw a neverending dance of forms over the night sky. It was very beautiful. Except… didn’t that look a bit like a… tentacle? As if something humongous with lots of teeth? Did you see how it looks like as if a city was crumbling on the sky just now?
On the first of November, the Allting was in session and both the president, and the ministers were present. Suddenly several people were overcome with the strangest phenomenon. While others didn’t see or hear anything, Jóhanna, Oddný, Unnur and Steingrímur were all frozen in place for a while. When they were again back to their senses, they all claimed that two huge ravens, black as midnight and big as to fill the room (and more, “actually it was a bit like they both were inside here and weren’t”) had spoken to them, uttering this message:
“Are you daft? You have been warned since the summer. Do something, NOW!”
“Um, so, are you saying you are getting some sort of visions like Icelandic mages?” Ólafur was uncomfortable, but this had been going on for too long to ignore.
“Yes. Yes we are. We are closing the border as of midnight tonight.”
“But! Surely you can’t…”
“All in favor raise their hand” Einar the speaker of Allting asked. By vote of 33 against 30, it was decided that the border be closed for a while. Just in case there was something in the message of those two strange ravens.
I took a little liberty with the people. Einar was the speakter in late 2013 and Ölafur was president, but Jöhanna's term as prime minister actually ended earlier in 2013 (I don't know the exact date). But more of the Seiðr were women, so I shuffled the timeline a bit. And of course I don't know which ones of the Icelandic members of parliament and other top politicians are Seiðr in this reality, so I apologize for any mistakes made in the preceding description.
