The discovery of the Gospel of the Brothers was big news. Found inside clay pots inside cave walls set in an Israeli archeological site, the discovery was an act of a carelessness because nothing invasive had been formally allowed (yet), they were studied and tested by an internationally selected committee of historians, scientists, and theologues; they were shouted about by nearly every religious zealot on the planet until a cloud of non-denominational confusion swirled around the committee’s work. These scrolls were big news—especially huge for biblical scholars—but they were also a conundrum.
Firstly, they shouldn’t have survived intact, given the way they were stored. Other scrolls hadn’t survived all that time in their original form; those writings had crumbled, decayed, and disappeared over time. But the Gospel of the Brothers were mostly—at least ninety-five percent—whole.
Secondly, they were strangely written. They were in ancient Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, like so many other documents of those times, but there were combinations of words that both made sense linguistically and didn’t make sense historically. Terms like “young horse stick of fire” caused problems for nearly everyone studying the discovered texts; no one knew what it was describing and every attempt at likening it to something familiar in the historical record hurt the credibility of the source.
The Gospel of the Brothers caused protests around the world. While fringe historians—the ancient alien theorists, especially—rejoiced in their discovery, using the released texts as reasons why their theories were sound, fundamentalists in several religions railed against their inclusion as appendices to their source material. They didn’t discuss the Christian God much, though angels, demons, and prophets were included in the text; but even mentions of known archangels and Heaven and Hell weren’t enough to allow the new texts to find a home in the Christian mythology. Other religions wouldn’t consider them parts of their mythology, either, for similar reasons.
It took years for the text to be translated and compiled. Publication and worldwide release weren’t in the committee’s mandate, but someone leaked them. That person was vilified, because apparently everyone had signed a non-disclosure agreement that required unanimous consent from the committee’s overseers (governmental representatives from the countries involved, much to the academic community’s disapproval), but they were never formally charged. The scrolls’ text found its way onto several made-popular websites and became reading material for the world’s curious minds.
Something I just started writing. Not sure what it’s gonna be yet. Not sure if I’m going to continue.
Every once in a while, you’ll find all the staff in Arendelle’s castle mysteriously gone. They’ll have walked out the previous day, usually with small parcels or baskets of items. They go home to their loved ones and generally enjoy themselves.
Every once in a while, the castle shuts down. The gates are shut, the guards leave their posts, and local or foreign dignitaries do not arrive to talk business.
Because every once in a while, the royals make a day of their own.
It just so happened that today was one of those days. Anna was always asleep until late in the day, and Elsa enjoyed these days for the simple pleasure of not getting up early. So she nearly jumped out her skin when Anna barged into her bedroom before noon and leaped across the space between the door and her bed to land with an almighty crash right on top of her.
“Oh my good god Anna! What is wrong with you?” Elsa squirmed out from underneath her lump of a sister, only to try too hard at escape and end up on her back on the floor. Anna swung her torso over the edge of the bed and looked smugly down at her sister. Elsa blew a lock of hair out of her face and stared resolutely back.
“Good morning,” Anna said.
“Good morning,” Elsa replied.
After several seconds of silence, Anna’s face broke into a wide grin.
“Do you know what today is?”
“Tuesday.” Elsa was as smooth as ever. Anna was undeterred.
“It’s our off day! Don’t you want to do something fun, instead of sleeping all day?” Elsa raised an eyebrow at the question.
“Ever heard of ‘the pot calling the kettle black’?”
“Now why would the pot be talking?”
Elsa caved first and began to giggle. Anna, realizing she’d won, jumped off the bed and hauled Elsa to her feet.
“That means I get to pick the game today! I think we should have this crazy hide and go seek fest where you hide all these little ice sculptures for me, and then-”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Anna stopped her planning for a moment and thought. Even though she knew what it was, she shook her head.
“I simply have no idea what you’re talking about my dearest Elsa!”
Elsa huffed. “I thought as much. Anna, before we play any games, we have to learn at least one chore around the castle. That was the only way the staff would leave us alone.”
Anna snorted her annoyance and Elsa smiled.
“Do you still want to pick?”
Elsa had always thought that sweeping was relaxing. The steady swish swish of the broom back and forth was almost entrancing. She continued to sweep up the long hallway in carefree strokes, making neat little piles of debris, which she then froze and dumped into a large trash bin.
Anna on the other end of the hallway, was unbelievably bored. She swore every time she thought she was done with a section of floor she’d turn around and see more dirt. She’d done the same section at least four times. Frustrated, the red-head found a balled up piece of parchment and was hitting it back and forth with the end of her broom. She sighed and looked up for her sister. Elsa was about twenty feet away, lost in her own little world of cleaning.
Without any kind of warning, Anna lined up and hit the paper ball with a hard, two handed swing. The projectile arced gracefully before bouncing off it’s target with all the force of a gnat hitting a mountain. Elsa whirled around and shot Anna the best, “What the hell do you think you’re doing,” looks in the history of Arendelle. Anna just shrugged.
Suddenly, Elsa got a weird look in her eye. She pulled back her broom and neatly clipped the paper back to Anna.
“Oh it is SO on,” Anna crowed. Elsa quickly froze the floor in a thin layer of ice and raised ice pillars on either side of the makeshift court.
“Hey! That’s not fair! I can’t skate.”
“Then you’d better learn fast!”
Anna smacked the paper ball towards Elsa’s goal, but it was deftly blocked with a sweep of the blonde’s broom. Using small hits, Elsa raced down the court, hoping that a closer shot would score her some easy points. That or just infuriate Anna, which was adorable. Anna, sensing that Elsa was serious slapped a game face on and charged after her.
They played for hours. Elsa ended up creaming Anna 31 to 6, but Anna had never seen Elsa smile quite like that before. They relaxed by the fire that night, nursing hot chocolates to their chests and enjoying each other’s company. Anna begged Elsa to read to her and Elsa obliged. When sleep finally overtook Anna, Elsa quietly closed the book and set it on the table next to her. While Anna wasn’t heavy, Elsa was loathe to wake her sister only to have to move to their rooms. Instead, she curled up next to her on the couch, letting herself love the soft sound of Anna’s breathing.
Okay, as a born and bred Norwegian you can just imagine how thrilled I got when Mary rolled the dice and ended up here in Norway. And after many
speculations about the post credit scene I have to hang on to @leoburgerpaws hell therory
And here my friends, is my input:
It is three possible places for Sherlock to go
1. Norddal, Norway: This is the place she originally went and got her new identity. Not likely
2. Hell, Norway: Hell is a really small village here in Norway, with just over 1000 citizens. It is placed close to one of Norway biggest cities Trondheim, and their railway station play a centered role in the transportation of goods between Norway and Sweeden. This is of course the most likely place to go, both since it is actually called hell and it is a place.
3. Helvete (Hell in English), Norway: Helvete isn’t really a place, but it caught my attention never the less. There is a road in central Norway who got this name in the 1700-century because it was hell for the miners who tried to transport copper and other metals over to Lillehammer. The land is full of holes, Jettegryter (troll-pots), like caves formed from stone and gravel under the ice during winter. Before they understood the
reasons behind the phenomenon, people used to think that trolls made them and filled them with ice when the villiage was in need for water.
I dont know about this last one though, but is sure is interesting:)And of course I’m just hyped about the fact that Norway can have something to do with all of this.