The night over the fjord spread with heavy clouds, and the breaths of the waters were deep and dreamy. It was at such a time that Harald, Torvald's son, stood for the first time on the bow of his longship, watching the pale dawn slowly brighten on the horizon. He was only nineteen winters old, but something more than youthful lust for adventure burned in his eyes - there was a spark in them that only true warriors of the north ignite. Behind Harald's back whispered quietly Siegfried with his sharp eyes and Ingrid, whose war axe was already famous from Skåne to Iceland. - Ready? - whispered Harald, and was answered by the muffled clanking of iron and a silent prayer to Odin. The cheer of the wind carried the ship through the raging waves. Their destination - a fog-covered, rocky island about which stories full of understatements and whispered cautions circulated. Old Torvald, Harald's father, used to say that none of those who ventured there for untold riches ever came back the same man. Harald had just taken his first steps ashore. The stones crunched under his heavy leather boots. He was followed by his friends: Olaf with two scars on his face, Ragnhild with a gaze harder than a steel blade, the dwarf Arni and a few others, ready to challenge the riddles of the island. Silence filled the forest, broken only by the hooting of owls and sharp, off-key sounds that were not immediately recognisable. The team, with their hands on the handles of their weapons, moved deeper into the island. Each step brought more and more footprints - trampled paths, runes carved into the bark of trees and footprints too large to belong to a human being. The sun rose higher and higher, and Harald could feel the tension rising with each swallow of saliva. Suddenly Siegfried, walking in front, stopped abruptly. In front of them, the forest opened up to reveal a clearing, in the middle of which - like a fragment of a Norse mythical world rising from the ground - stood a huge stone circle. In its centre was a sword stuck into the rock, surrounded by ancient signs. The air around it trembled with a powerful energy. Harald felt his heart beating faster than ever before. Ragnhild moved closer to him, clutching her axe so tightly that her knuckles turned white. - Only one can try? - She whispered, looking meaningfully at Harald. - 'It is Odin's challenge,' the young Viking replied quietly, and slowly, with growing courage, approached the sword....