Little Viking Olaf and his friends sail toward an unknown island hidden in the fog. Strange stones, whispering sounds, and a flashing figure wait on the shore.
Beyond the mountains and pine woods, where the sea was cold and the wind liked to whistle, lived a little Viking named Olaf. He had bright red hair, cheerful eyes, and a wooden helmet his father had carved just for him. His best friend was Solveig, who never went anywhere without her small furry bear. And there was Loki, their dog, who loved barking at the waves.
One morning, Olaf woke before the sun had fully climbed into the sky. He hurried across the longhouse, his sandals thumping on the floorboards. Outside, the sea lay quiet and silver. Olaf found Solveig by the door.
"Solveig!" he whispered. "Grandfather saw an island from the boat. It isn't on any map."
Solveig's eyes grew wide. "An island no one has found? Maybe there are giant berries there. Or bird dragons. We must go!"
Soon, a small rowboat rocked at the harbour. Olaf climbed in first. Solveig sat beside him with her bear tucked under one arm, and Loki jumped aboard after them, wagging his tail so hard the boat shivered.
They rowed out into the open water, singing Viking songs and laughing at the spray. The wind tugged at Olaf's hair. Seagulls cried above their heads. For a little while, everything felt easy and bright.
Then the fog came.
It rolled over the sea like a blanket, thick and white. The shore disappeared. The waves vanished. Even the sky seemed to fade. Loki stopped wagging his tail. His ears pricked up, and a low growl rumbled in his throat.
Olaf leaned forward, squinting into the mist. Something dark was rising ahead.
A shape. Then another.
At last, an island appeared out of the fog, close enough to touch. Its shore was lined with shiny coloured stones, and tall star-shaped flowers nodded in the breeze. Strange whispery sounds drifted over the water, soft as breath.
Olaf gripped Solveig's hand.
On the beach, a bright figure flashed once through the mist and stood waiting.