The Legend of the Stone

A land of mysteries, darkness, and lore, barren and brutal to those that dare trespass upon the cliffs or traverse across the rocky ocean, attempting to reach land. The power of the tide pulls the waters out to sea and then viciously slams the unrelenting waves upon its shores, hour after hour. Day after day. The sea foam swirls in the current, swiftly changing direction as the forces twist and turn until it disappears into the abyss of time.
Hues of pink and blue intertwine as wisps of clouds dance across the horizon. Moody and dangerous, the sky watches the machinations of the ocean, partaking in its tidal dance with the waxing and waning of the moon.
In this barren land, eyes watch from the shadows, hidden from the sunlight until the darkness falls upon the land. It was their time to roam the earth before the sun danced across the sky in all its brilliance.
Rising up, Finnur looked around and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, grunting to his brother, Arnar, "It's time to go."
Arnar looked displeased with his brother, saying, "No, I shall eat my fill before traversing the land this evening." He stood up and walked over to the pile of bones and meat hanging in the corner of the cave, sitting cross-legged and silent as he ate his fill.
Finnur slowly closed his fists and was about to smash his brother over his head when Jokull entered the cave with a warning, "A ship is nearing. We must capture it before the sun rises."
Immediately, Arnar threw down his stale meat and bounded up, ready to fetch some fresh humans for breakfast instead.
Without a word, they walked down the path to the ocean, spotting the ship out in deep waters. Finnur weighed their chances of bringing the ship into the seas, offering, "The waters are calm this night. I believe we shall be able to pull this in with ease."
These giants swiftly entered the water, swimming out to the boat in the cover of darkness, knowing with certainty that the unsuspecting humans would succumb easily to their powers. When they made it out to the ship, the moon hovered overhead, shining brightly, waiting to reveal their locations to the humans above.
Jokull pointed to the ship and whispered, "It shall be easier if we turn the boat around; then, we will be able to push this into the bay."
Swiftly, Finnur protested, "No! We push it as is. We shall not waste more time. Arnar already selfishly did with his breakfast this night, and time is running short."
"But my plan will get the boat to shore faster," Jokull continued to argue.
Leaving his brothers to argue, Arnar swan underneath the ship and grabbed its anchor. It was time to start their journey back to shore. Exiting the water, he took deep breaths to fill his tired lungs before attempting to stop the argument. Such foolishness would get them all killed in the morning sunlight. He looked up into the sky and noticed the moon's position, realizing that they needed to get back to shore sooner than later.
"Stop arguing!" he growled at them, continuing, "We need to take this anchor and get to shore as swiftly. Let's go!."
Letting out a deep breath, exasperated, he wanted to pummel them into the darkness for their continued stubbornness. Finally, they stopped bantering and took hold of the anchor. The moment they started to tug the boat towards the shore, the crew on board started shouting words unfamiliar to their ears.
Arrow after arrow rained down, forcing them to weave and bob in the water, stealing what little precious time they had remaining. Hunger and sheer determination kept them inching closer to their destination.
The captain of the ship gave orders to his men, which Finnur, Arnar, and Jokill could not understand, but they felt the boat start to gain momentum away from the shore. This forced them to pull harder, using more of their depleting energy.
The tug of war raged on for hours. Relentless. The crew was fighting for their lives, knowing that if they could keep the troll's struggle alive for a little longer, the sun would take care of their burden. They just needed to stay strong!
The brothers, on the other hand, were dumbfounded; where did these humans get their strength from? They are so punny, weaklings, if truth be told! Looking up, Finnur knew their time was fading fast, but the shore was in sight. Just a few hundred meters, and the ship would be forever theirs.
As they approached the shoreline, the task grew harder, for their strength was fading, for the day was nearly dawning. Finnur grumbled, "My muscles are getting stiff."
Grunting, Jokull agreed. "My feet are getting cold; my hands feel like rocks."
"We need to leave this ship and get to our cave, or we shall turn into stone!" Arnar thought he yelled, but his words were muffled.
The sun was breaking through the clouds, pushing the darkness away.
Jokull dropped the anchor, remaining in place. His feet are firmly planted on the ocean floor. Trying to hide under the cover of the water was absolutely futile. The weight of the change was unbearable, but he could no longer move his mouth. Reaching out, he froze in place, forever remaining a pillar upon the ragged shoreline.
Finnur was hiding in the shadows of the boat and watched in horror as his beloved brother, Arnar, froze in place. Fear took control of his mind, knowing that he no longer had the brute strength to pull this boat in, and it was only a matter of a few moments before he, too, passed from this world to the next, where he would be frozen in time.
He dropped the anchor, petrified! His hands were the first to turn to stone, heavily weighing him down. Bending over from the burden, he could not lift himself back up.
The men stared in disbelief; the rumors and tales were true.
Cheers went up! Screams of joy!
Then the captain's voice echoed across the deck, "Chains up! We must travel fast and hard today, for trolls shall not capture us upon this journey again."
The ocean settled down as the ship sailed past its forlorn shores, but centuries later, the pillars remained of the foolish trolls upon the shore, watching and waiting for a wayward ship to crash upon them under a moonless sky.
(Just off the coast of southern Iceland are the pillars of Reynisdranger. There are many tales surrounding their existence. The tale of the trolls Finnur, Arnar, and Jokull is my retelling of this ancient lore.)