Draugameistari Chronicles - Author's notes

 Most people might have heard about those. Or at least seen the  Ægishjálmur  or Vegvísir symbols circulating around. On shirts, on jewelry, tattooed on people... They are galdrastaves. Galdrastafir. Magic symbols, but not Viking symbols. No. Those are the Icelandic version of sigil magic that was a hot thing back in the Renaissance era. We of course do not know when the tradition actually started, but most symbols we know were recorded circa 1600-1800. Viking may or may not have used them, and thus calling them Viking symbols is inaccurate. My interest in galdrastaves started around 2001 when I read Margit Sandemo's Witchmaster-series. Sandemo was an enormous influence in my writing and worldview, pointing me towards folklore and history, but now I digress, and more of that maybe later. I searched with the limited internet access and limited English skills a 13-year-old Finnish teenager had, but somehow that special interest has stayed with me all these years. I visited ...

  Inverness, late March 2030. "It's you." I spat three times to my left. " Hverfa! " "Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?" the trespasser on my back porch said, as the wind blew a cold, wet shower on my face. "Get lost." "Oh, Cas..." I wiped my face and crossed my arms, staring at Matthias and trying to force him to turn and get lost with the power of my mind. Didn't work. Shame. "Why are you here?" I scanned the shadows behind him, trying to see into the pitch-black darkness the rain had created. I had this terrible itch inside my mind, telling me something was off, and it wasn't just the weather. A boom of thunder rolled from the distance. There was a man standing several steps behind Matthias, looking like he was trying to merge with the shadows. He was dressed head to toe in dark colours, his hood pulled up against the rain. I had almost missed him, since he was standing so still that he was half-hidde...