The Last Werewolf (Vidar #1) | ONC2021 Grand Winner

Got any shoes where that came from?

The endless, spiralling mist spat him out.

Weightless, he fell from the sky, his canines receding and Kira slipping from him. He smacked down on the rock-hard ground and rolled until a stone-pebble broke his speed. Sprawled on his stomach, he came to a standstill inch-deep in ice-cold water. His claws retracted. His skin was stinging, but, Allfather, he was alive.

His muscles stirred. He shivered and groaned as thick patches of fur slid off his skin and floated in the water. He sat up. The reflection in the water was of a man with scratches on his face, the wounds already fading. In the sky burnt the sun, but not the moon.

"Kira? Mo?" he asked.

"I'm here," a soft voice sniffled. Kira sat up in the shadow of an alder tree, hunched, clamping her arm to her body. Blood streamed down her face, but otherwise, she seemed alright—given everything.

There came a moan and a crack. The Ifrit, already back in his plump human shape but still smoking, slipped out of the tree and crashed down bottom-first. "I'm good, all good." The red light in his eyes dimmed as he shook his head.

As Vidar rose to his still hairy feet, the Ifrit pointed a finger at him. Instantly, a pair of beige cotton trousers wrapped themselves around Vidar's bare legs. A green plaid shirt covered his chest.

"Got any shoes where that came from?" Vidar asked.

The Ifrit turned his fingers into a gun and pretended to shoot at his feet. Black high top boots with red laces tightened around his feet, along with a pair of cookie monster socks.

 "Really?" Vidar grunted.

"More pressing matters, Wolfie," Mo said as he crouched down next to Kira. 

Vidar joined them. Kira was sobbing, her breath ragged as she tried to speak but couldn't form any other word than sorry.

Ethereal light shot up from Mo's palms as he healed the bruises and cuts on her face. She hiccuped in pain as he touched her shoulder, popping the dislocated bone back into its place. He grabbed her hand, studying the red bite marks. His light dried up the blood and closed the wound, but even Mo couldn't prevent the thick scars that formed where Vidar's teeth had punctured her skin. Nor could the Ifrit stop the curse of the wolf.

Vidar sat down on his knees. "Kira, look at me." He waited until she turned her head, then said, "It's alright. He's gone. I promise—it's going to be fine."

At once, her light blue eyes turned glassy. She nodded, her breathing calming. 

"It's alright," she repeated.

"Yeah." He almost believed the lie too.

"Where's the other wolf?" she asked.

"Isegrim?" Vidar looked around. They were in a valley, surrounded by snow-clad mountains, their tops shrouded in clouds. Not a sign of the old grey wolf.

"He ran away, the lucky coward," Mo said.

"I hope so." Her voice was still frail. "I'm sorry—so sorry."

"Shh," Vidar hushed her. "It's not your fault. It's Loki's."

"Loki." She shuddered. "He's gone, isn't he?"

"He's not around." What that implicated, Vidar didn't know either.

"Kira, I have to ask—nosy Ifrit curiosity," Mo said. "How did you and snake-creep meet?"

"I don't remember exactly." She swallowed. "He started as a voice in my head—I thought I was going crazy, but then he helped me to do things I was always afraid to do. He helped me regain my confidence, and he was kind."

"Yeah, he can be charming."

"Then he started asking me to do things. Not much at first—showing him the city and reading certain books. We talked a lot. One day, he asked if he could control my brain, said there would be a reward if I let him, that he was a god and had connections no other being had. He promised to bring my brother back. I missed Sander so much."

"The guy knew how to pull your strings," Mo said.

"The things I did. I didn't want to do them, but no matter how much I screamed, my body kept doing them. I cut a body into pieces—she was so beautiful. At last, I learnt mermaids were real, and then I had to do that." She sobbed. "Then, I  kidnapped Reynaert, kept him alive, though only barely. I wanted to give him more scraps. He didn't allow me to, said the creature didn't deserve it. Mostly, Loki wanted to get to you, Vidar. He made me take the job at the store after prank-calling a guy, telling him he had won a job as a DJ in the Mediterranean."

"Danny," Vidar said.

Mo scrunched his eyes. "So the cruise wasn't real. Why didn't Danny come back?"

"I mentioned that to Loki—a thought I couldn't hide from him. Through me, he pretended to be a booking agent, arranged a real trip for him."

"But how did Loki manage all that?" Vidar said. "I barely understand the twenty-first century, and I lived it."

"Makes you wonder how long your brother has been floating around."

Kira shook her head. "No, he had access to my memories, took what he needed." She broke out into tears once more. "I never meant for it to happen. I just wanted Sander back."

"You're not to blame," Vidar said. "It's a new low, even for my brother. The years in Helheim—it must have corrupted him."

"So where did snake-creep go?" Mo asked. "Where are we? I bet three pizzas this ain't Antwerp. Or Belgium for that matter."

Vidar looked around. This wasn't Hel or another place of desolation where dark creatures like the Hellhounds, Mad Meg and the Buckriders dwelled after he had slain them. The scenery was too peaceful: slender waterfalls descending from the sturdy mountains into a placid lake. The red alder tree with its long catkins. Dandelions grew between the white stones. 

A familiar sight, yet he couldn't place it. A long-forgotten memory that surfaced at the top of his tongue.

"No! Where is it?" Kira was rummaging through her backpack, throwing out pens, a booklet, and a small rectangular bag. "My phone—where is my phone?"

"I don't have mine either," Mo said, patting his pockets. "Must have lost it."

Vidar scratched the back of his head. Strands of black fur knotted around his fingers. "Mine is a bag underneath a Velo-bike I hid in the bushes at Lilo."

Mo whistled. "That's gonna be quite the fine for that bike."

Vidar waved the remark away. Given everything, a mailbox filled with passive-aggressive letters was the least of his worries.

Kira clutched her pink plastic brick to her chest, kissing it. "I didn't lose it. I got it." She flipped the phone open, stared at the screen, then stood up, her eyes still fixated on the object. "No reception."

"What's the time?" Mo asked.

"Half-past eleven." Then she added, in disbelief, "In the evening."

Mo chuckled. "No way. Your phone's broken."

"It's not."

Vidar sniffed, the air so clean it unlocked more hints of that vague memory. Aeons ago, he had swum in that lake, play fighting and wrestling with his brothers. He the smallest of them all, but already stronger than all of them, except for Thor. The mountains only hills, the trees but seeds carried by the wind.

"We're in the land of the midnight sun," he said.

"Where's that?" Kira asked.

"I'm guessing a place they don't have pizza," Mo said.

Vidar hummed. A chill wind blew through the valley. The sun crept below the mountains. In the distance, across the lake, approached a feminine shape, glittering and glowing. Her radiant hair was wrapped around her body as she stepped ashore.

Sunna.

 "Welcome home, last son of Odin."

THE END

OR THE BEGINNING?

Words: 1.294 (total 35.129)