The sky had frozen solid while he’d slept. It was cold blue and streaked with crystalline clouds. But the clouds did not move, and the blurred light from the sun illuminated this strange vision as though it was emanating from behind a thick wall of rippled glass. The man stared at this beautiful vision as he slowly came to his senses. He lay there quietly trying to remember his own name. Trying to remember how he’d gotten here. But nothing came to him. His mind was muddled. Tunth-ska. That was it. Their name for him meant “Tusk” because his sword was like a great overgrown walrus tooth. *** *** ***