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After claiming his luggage, he realizes, to his complete surprise, that there are some fancy-looking people in the waiting area holding up a board with his name on it. Upon approaching them, it turns out they were sent by the head of Saxonate, and are going to deliver him right to the hotel. They also inform him on their way that the first interview would take place tomorrow if he agrees as well. Ragnar feels it's not really up to him but nods in agreement.

The hotel looks expensive, not what he's used to, and he ‒ awkwardly, if he'd know how to be awkward ‒ feels like a filthy savage among all these fancy people. Instead of fixing his eyes on the ground or mumbling, he just marches to the front desk, checks in, confidently withstands the judging gazes, and heads up to his room. Which, by the way, looks just as expensive as the rest of the place, of course.

His bags land on the floor with a thud, and without looking around, he spreads out on the bed. After a short period of laziness, he sets up the wifi on his phone, and goes back to this artist guy's Instagram profile. There's no Youtube channel linked to it, nor any social media account other than Twitter.

His fingers stop and hover above the "send a message" button for a while. With a shrug, he proceeds.

@RL: Hello Athelstan, you probably saw the amount of interest in us collaborating. I was thinking we could discuss that. Are you available?

It's not the best he could've written but Ragnar isn't the overthinking type. He jumps up and starts unpacking. Having already thrown half of his clothes into the closet, the phone beeps, and he runs to check if it's from Athelstan. It is.

@AA: Hi Ragnar, I have just discovered this demand. I have also taken a look at your social sites, and I am unsure about how we would be able to collaborate, seeing that your main tool is video making and I am not interested in that.

Ragnar huffs and types:

@RL: Well, that's why I suggested we meet and find that out. Where are you?

He almost immediately receives a response.

@AA: I'm in Lindisfarne, but yet again, I'm not sure there is a way of us collaborating.

Pulling up Google Maps, he searches for the mentioned place, and when he sees where it is, the wrinkles around his eyes appear and he laughs out loud. The guy who creates religious paintings is on an island called the Holy Island. His laugh soon becomes uncontrollable.

After the laughing dies out, he shoves a few essential things in his backpack, slings it on his shoulder, and leaves his room. There's a faint memory in his brain about those pick-up guys saying something like "The boss requests you rest now, to be fresh tomorrow," but he forgets it as soon as he steps out on the street.

Well, if he called those earlier rides rocky, this was... he doesn't even have words for this one. He did see this is a very small island, that's why he started the journey even though the artist guy didn't reply to him asking for his address, but he wasn't expecting this.

This island was weird, to say the least. First of all, Ragnar expected a ferry at some point; instead, there was an actual road. Secondly, he expected the Holy Island to be, well, an island; instead, looking out the bus window, he saw watery land. Sure, he knows what a tide is, but still, this area was blue on the map. And thirdly, he expected this place to be small, but when they reached the island, which was somewhat hard to tell because at first there was nothing ‒ or rather, the view remained the same ‒, he realized just how small it is, thus how amazingly easy it will really be to find a guy named Athelstan here.

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