My name is Erik Sinason, and though it may be hard to believe, everything I'm about to tell you is true.
I live in Minnesota, in the city of St. Paul. My real name is Eiríkr, something my mom got out of an old book. I've lived with my mom my whole life, as I never knew my dad. The year I turned seventeen started out great. I was popular and made debate team captain. But the day my history class took a field trip would change my life forever.

We went to Moorhead, to visit the Hjemkomst Center and see the ship housed there. Everything was going fine until my English teacher, Mr. Hudson, wanted to speak with me and took me to another room.
When he turned to face me, he seemed to get hairier and grow shorter and smaller.
"Mr. Hudson, are you okay?" He had turned into a dog now, growling, fur covered, and four-legged. The canine lunged at my throat, trying to rip it out. Luckily, my friend Daggry and my history teacher, Mr. Foster, were walking by, and rushed into the room as I blocked the dog's ongoing attacks.
Mr. Foster, who had been blind all his life, threw me a sword. I was surprised to find how light it was.
The dog leapt, I ducked and slashed a hind leg as the creature landed behind me. It yelped in pain as its body fell to the ground.
"Daggry, take Erik to Alexandria. His mother must know about this. I will take it from here." Daggry grabbed my arm, leading me out of the building, to her car.
She drove to Alexandria, where we went to another museum, this time to meet with my mom. I found her in an exhibition room with her back to us, looking at this stone slab kept behind a glass wall. I walked up to her and saw her lips moving, but no sound came from them. Reaching to touch her shoulder, Daggry placed a finger to her lips, speaking herself instead.
"Mrs. Sinason?" No response.
"Maggie?" My mom turned around when she heard her name. She looked first at the sword in my hand, then slowly at me.
"I knew this day would come." Mom turned to Daggry. "You know the way."
We all got into Daggry's car and drove to Grand Portage State Park.

There was a wooden doorframe close by, and Mom and Daggry got out and walked towards it. Curious, I decided to follow the women to where they were going. Upon walking through the frame, I saw a tall blonde talking to my mom. I approached them slowly, and the blonde turned at my coming.
"You must be Eiríkr." She spoke with a slight Danish accent.
"I prefer to go by Erik."
"It is an honor to meet the son of Magnhild." I turned to my mom.
"Didn't she ever tell you? Your mother is the valkyrie Magnhild. And that sword you hold," she nodded to the weapon, "is Ulfsbíta, a blade once used in combat by your father."
"I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. My mom isn't a...whatever you called her. I don't even know my father, Mr. Foster just gave me this sword to protect myself from a dog that attacked me."
"You didn't warn him about Garmr?"
My mom began to speak.
"Erik, I should have told you a long time ago. I am a valkyrie. And your father is Tyr."
"Tyr? The one-handed Norse god?" My mom nodded.
"Ok...but what is this place? And why am I here?"
"Come with me." The blonde held out her hand, and I noticed a word tattooed on her right wrist in black ink: thrīr. I took hold of her hand, and she lead me deep into the woods, until we reached a cabin. The blonde knocked three times.

"Come in." The blonde took hold of the brass handle and swung the door open with a long creak, reveling a large, shadow-covered room.
"Uncle Hödr!" The blonde called into the dark space.
"Yes Andren?" A tall man stepped from the shadows. He had gray eyes that looked as if a thin layer of glass covered them. He reminded me of Mr. Foster. The blonde, who must have been Andren, produced a book. She flipped the pages loudly.
"You got it!" The girl tossed the book to the man, who set it on a table beside him.
"You brought someone, Andren." He walked to me and gently placed his hands on my cheeks.
"I've waited a long time for you, Eiríkr Tyrson. And here you are."
"Who have you been waiting for?" The hands left my face as the man turned around to face the table he had stood by. There stood a horrifying object; the severed head of a man, who had long wavy dark brown hair and a short beard, and golden-amber eyes that seemed to stare into my very being.
"Uncle Mimir." Andren picked up the head and placed it in her arms.
"Hello Atli." The head blinked upon seeing me.
"So, you're the one my niece's been jabbering about nonstop for months." Andren knocked Mimir's forehead.
"Ow!" The head stuck his tongue out at the blonde. She turned to me, her deep blue eyes sparkling as if a fire were lit behind them.
"Does he know where he is?"
"I forgot to tell you where you are, by Odin! Ah well, better do it now." She cleared her throat.
"Velkoma vith Leir Miðgarðr, Eiríkr Tyrson. Welcome to Camp Midgard, Erik Sinason."