It was nice to be home. Jarl was more than happy to spend the next two weeks completely forgetting about the university and his coursework, he only hoped that Asbjørn being there as well wouldn’t be too much of a reminder. Yrsa crawled out of the old car after Jarl, they were not wearing a mask anymore and when the two kinsmen stood next to each other, one might have believed them to be siblings instead of cousins. They were both tall and slender, red hair glittering in the sun like the ornamental copper helmets worn at ceremonies in the Dark Period. Their kin had probably been influential people back then too, now the youngest generation of the oldest houses were living in the ruins of their ancestors.

Jarl threw the sports bag over his shoulder and looked over his shoulder at Asbjørn. He was taller than his friend, but not as broad. Even on this humid day by the coast Asbjørn was wearing a heavy cotton shirt, Jarl was starting to wonder if those were the only types of shirts he owned. It was normal to wear long sleeved shirts all year around nowadays. The ecological shift after the death of the gods had changed a lot of little things like that. Now the sun burned hotter than ever before. It was bearable when away from bodies of water in the summer, but Denmark had slowly lost so much of it’s coastline that it was near impossible to be anywhere, that didn’t require being near a harbour or a rocky, windy beach.

Traditional folk costumes had come back in style and they were great at protecting against both sun and sand, and they made him look great too. Jarl was sure that all the free drinks, drugs and hook-ups he had landed so far in university had, to some degree at least, been thanks to his exhaustive wardrobe of velvet vests and linen shirts, all bearing the unmistakable charms of being from an almost forgotten time.

Jarl was stopped in his tracks on his way to drop off the bag when Yrsa’s freckled visage popped up right in front of him. Their slender, tattooed fingers were curled around their own luggage.

“Aren’t you gonna be a good host and show your guest the meat scarecrow?” they laughed, wrinkling their nose and showing the upper row of their crooked teeth. Jarl looked around for Asbjørn, he could have sworn that he was right behind him a moment ago.

“Don’t you think the effigy, or idol, or whatever it is, can wait until after supper?” Jarl wrinkled his nose back at his cousin. They had grown up together, they were almost like siblings. They annoyed each other like siblings too.

“And don’t call it a meat scarecrow!” Jarl yelled after them as they disappeared up the stairs, “that sounds gross!”

In all honesty, Jarl didn’t really know how to be a good host to his friend. He had never thought he would be bringing anyone from university home, it felt weird. It felt kind of awkward, actually. They had lived together for many years on campus, but this felt a lot more intimate.

The old floorboards sighed and moaned under the weight of the two students as they entered the living room to greet Hilda Marensdatter. She was sitting in an old, green, velvety couch, that struggled to let her go as she got up to welcome her guests.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay in your home, Mrs.” Asbjørn was clearly trying to be polite, maybe even charming. Jarl found it amusing, but sweet. He loved his mother, and knew she was always happy to have new and interesting people around the big, old house, especially when his dad was away visiting the nearest town.

“Of course, sweetheart, I’m happy to finally get to meet a friend of Jarl,” the woman smiled and turned her head to her son, “we were starting to think he was making up friends in his letters to us.” She laughed, so did Asbjørn. Asbjørn knew all too well the sort of friends Jarl made at university, and they were usually not the type you wanted to bring home to meet your mom. Jarl couldn’t help but feel his cheeks starting to burn as Asbjørn met his gaze quickly before directing his attention back towards Jarl’s mom, exchanging more pleasantries.

“Hey mom, I’m gonna go help Yrsa fix up the rooms, yeah?” Jarl nodded at his mom and left the room. The weather had changed from the humid summer evening to a brewing rain storm, Jarl thought to himself that he would take Asbjørn out to see the meat scarecrow tomorrow, tonight they needed a good nights sleep.