Two yellow eyes glowed in the heavy darkness of the cave, moving closer to Lìfa. With her heart racing and grip tightening around her knife, she instinctively backed away, keeping her distance. Her eyes grew wide open and brows ran high as she saw a wolf emerging from the shadows. It walked slowly, its head held high with the pride of a fearless warrior, even though it was defeated. Its shiny, silver fur was stained with blood where an arrow pierced through its rear leg. Using the last bits of its strength, the animal took a few more weak steps towards Lìfa then collapsed to the ground with a pained groan.

Lìfa felt excitement growing inside her as blood rushed through her veins. She found her prey after all. It was time to finish the hide and seek. With careful steps, Lìfa approached the wolf, keeping her distance from its sharp teeth. She slowly lifted her hand, the blade shining bright in the fire's light. She was just about to strike down, burying her knife into the wounded animal's heart when a voice in her head stopped her.

"When winter comes and cold wind howls
Your future depends on the Runes
Spare a life and tame the wolves,
Break his chains and let Him rule!"

The sound of the blade falling to the ground broke the tense silence weaving around. Afraid of the loud noise, the wolf reared its ears back and moved away from the girl. Lìfa's now empty hand froze in the air as she stood there completely numb, staring down at the wolf in realisation. Maybe, this was what Silvana had talked about. Maybe, this was the missing part of the prophecy she couldn't find.

Looking down, she saw nothing, but a young, wounded and frightened animal. All pride faded away from its eyes, leaving only fear and pain dwelling in those yellow orbs. After staring into each other's eyes for a while, Lìfa knew what she had to do. She grabbed one of the sticks with the freshly roasted hare and slowly placed it in front of the wolf, not breaking eye contact for even a second. As she reached her hand out with the food, she let it cautiously sniff her.

Then it examined and licked the tasty meat, its curious and worried gaze still fixed on Lìfa. Finally, when the wolf accepted the delicious food, Lìfa crept to its rear leg, taking a look at its injury. The head of the arrow went all the way through its flesh, peaking out on the other side. While the animal was still munching on the meat, she broke the metal tip down, careful not to move the stick itself. When it was done, she quickly pulled her hands back, shooting a worried look towards the head of the wolf. It lifted its gaze from the food to Lìfa, tilting its head to the side with curious shine in those burning yellow eyes.

Lìfa took a shaking breath to calm her nerves and tried to gulp the ball in her throat down. The hardest part was about to come. She threw the wolf another piece of bait, and while it was busy with filling its probably empty stomach, with a sturdy move she pulled the arrow out. A pained howl echoed in the cave as the wolf darted its head to the wound with its sharp teeth displayed. Scared from its reaction, Lìfa stumbled back, searching for her knife.

As Lìfa gained her balance back and knelt on the cold stone, her knife in her trembling hand again, she locked eyes with the wolf. It stared back with a threatening snarl, letting out a deep growl. As their eyes met, a strange feeling ran down Lìfa's spine, making her shiver. It reminded her of the thick air of Silvana's cottage, filled with seidr and magic. The same kind of power radiated from those wild yellow eyes. For a few seconds which felt like hours, none of them moved, waiting for the other's reaction. Finally, the wolf turned its head away, licking its wound and the bloody fur around it.

Letting out a long breath she didn't know she was holding, Lìfa let her weapon down. She felt like a huge weight just rolled off her, letting her breath again. She was about to stand up and walk back to the fire to have some rest, but her eyes got caught upon the blood soaking the animal's silver fur. Without the arrow blocking its way, the wound was bleeding again. The wolf looked up at her with its eyes asking for help then let its head down to the ground.

Lìfa sighed and sat back to the ground. She couldn't let the poor animal simply die this way, even though a few hours ago she was about to hunt it down. Carefully, she crawled to the wolf, but it didn't move, just slightly opened its eyes.

Driven by a strange feeling, Lìfa held her hand to the nose of the wolf, waiting for permission to get closer. As an answer, it only sniffed the girl's hand then closed its eyes again. Lìfa slowly touched its head, first only with her fingertips, then with her palm, running it through the soft fur. After a few comforting strokes, she tore a long piece of fabric from the bottom of her tunic.

Careful, not to cause any pain, Lìfa wrapped the piece of cloth around the wound, stopping it from bleeding. To her biggest surprise, the wolf didn't move or let out a single sound. It just waited patiently for her to finish.

"Now, you should be fine." Lìfa patted its head, then sat back to the safe warmth of the fire. As she leaned against the stone wall again, exhaustion spread across her body, making her limbs too heavy to move and forcing her eyelids to shut.

The last thing she saw was the wolf forcing itself to stand and walking towards her. It curled up on the opposite side of the fire, facing her. It looked right into her eyes, making Lìfa feel like the animal saw straight into her soul and mind...

When she opened her eyes, Lìfa found herself in a cave again. Its enormous columns towered over her like an army of giants. The last ones of the long-gone rock-folk, who stayed behind to hold the mountain above their heads.

As Lìfa turned to look around in the hall of stone, a pulpit caught her eyes in the middle with an ancient-looking staircase leading up to it. An object sat on this mysterious throne, its metallic shine calling out to her, driving her steps towards it. When she placed a foot on the first stair, a familiar voice stopped her.

"I can't believe you were so stupid to almost kill that wolf!" Lìfa spun around, only to find a tall man leaning against one of the pillars. His red hair and amber eyes radiated in the dark. He folded his arms with a frown as he continued. "You almost ruined my plan."

"What plan? What do you –" Lìfa couldn't finish as the man dismissed her question with a small wave and walked up to her.

"I don't have enough time for questions, they are coming for me. You see that thing up there?" He pointed at the shining object in the middle. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "It's the most powerful thing a Midgardian can possess. You'll need that." He gestured towards the stairs, encouraging Lìfa to climb them.

Holding her breath in excitement, Lìfa walked up to the pulpit. Her eyes grew wide open as she saw the item waiting for her. A beautiful longsword with ancient runes carved all over its blade. The cold metal shined in the dim light as if it were the source itself. An otherworldly glow came from it, pulsating with seidr.

"Why – why do I need it?" Lìfa asked, unable to tear her gaze off the magical weapon. Just when she was about to touch the edge of the sword, the world blurred around her into a spinning mess.

Her feet losing the ground, she tried to reach out and hold onto something. Her fingers only found the thick darkness whirling around. It all lasted for a glimpse of time.

A moment later, she found herself standing by the god, watching over an endless wilderness. Red and orange flames licked the edge of the horizon, painting the sky to the colour of blood. Thick, black smoke replaced all the clouds. The wind brought the sounds of a distant war with the unmistakable scent of death.

"That's why. Don't tell me, you didn't notice the signs. Fimbulwinter is here, Ragnarok is coming. Surtur* will march against the gods to burn your lands to the ground, and that sword is your only chance to stop him."

The sight of her world dying stunned Lìfa. She felt like she got a hard hit on the chest, squeezing the air from her lungs.

"And why are you interested in all this?" She still didn't understand why the god shared this vision with her.

"Because I'm not planning to die by the hands of Heimdall*, nor by the flames of Surtur. Odin is coming after me, I don't have much time left." Unlike the times before, his voice wasn't arrogant, nor bored. It was scared. No matter, how hard he tried to hide it and keep a straight face, Lìfa saw the desperation in his eyes. "So, if I want to get out alive, I have to stop Ragnarok. And you'll help me."

Lìfa couldn't find words. She opened her mouth, but no voice left her throat as surprise blocked her tongue.

"B – but where? How? You can't be serious!" She managed to mumble out a few questions.

With a hasty move, the god looked over his shoulder, his eyes scanning something only he could see. Fear spread across his features as he turned back to Lìfa, grabbing her arm. He pulled back her sleeve, revealing the pink scars covering her skin.

"You know, where. They are coming! Remember the prophecy!"

Lìfa woke up shivering in cold sweat. Her head was still spinning from the dream she had. She couldn't tell if that was real or only her imagination played games with her. Rubbing the dream away from her eyes she sat up, looking around. To her surprise, Lìfa found the wolf lying by her side, its back pressed against her. At first, her heart started into a faster pace but calmed down quickly as she understood the situation. Lìfa felt the warmth radiating from its thick fur, keeping both of them from freezing. Her fire completely died out overnight, letting the snowy wind lingering around the cave again.
With a small smile, Lìfa patted the wolf's head.

"I guess, we are even now."

With this, she got up, stretching her cold limbs out. The sun has peaked over the forest outside, spilling its yellow light over the snow covering everything. The storm and the merciless grey clouds had gone away overnight, leaving no trace behind. The sky was blue again, the wind had calmed down. Everything was completely silent and still.

While Lìfa packed her things up and got ready to go, the wolf stirred from its sleep too. It stood up slowly and carefully, testing its patched up leg. It limped but seemed to work. With a smile spreading across her lips, Lìfa squatted beside it and stroked its head one last time, before stepping out to the snowy forest. Just like a dog, it sat and let her scratch the back of its ear. Seeing the pleased look on its face made Lìfa's smile only brighter. After a few more strokes she stood up and nodded farewell to her unusual companion.

"Take care, my friend! I hope I'll see you again among these woods."

Walking away, she felt the gaze of its yellow eyes pinned on her back, following her. As she looked back over her shoulder, the wolf stood at the entrance of the cave, staring at her. Then, it turned away and howled, its voice piercing the morning silence, echoing in the frozen forest.

Luckily, Lìfa easily found her way back among the woods. The many years spent with Sveinn playing out there paid off. Walking past many of their favourite spots, she stopped by an old pine tree. Childhood memories flooding her mind, Lìfa ran her fingers along its bark, following the lines carved into it. Two small figures, holding swords and shields, a crown on their heads. The dreams of two children, filled with hope and desire for adventure... Suddenly, Lìfa heard a noise from the bushes.

"Sveinn? Ivar? I'm back and you won't believe –" Turning around, she found herself face to face with a pair of yellow eyes, framed by shining silver fur.

"Were you following me this whole time? Why don't you just go home to your pack?" The wolf just curiously tilted its head to the side and sat.

"Look, I saved you, you saved me. We are even, you can go home now." Lìfa tried to shoo it away, but the animal didn't move an inch. "Hey, I'm sorry I shot and tried to kill you, but I really need to go now." Scoffing, she turned her back to the wolf and marched ahead in the knee-height snow.

From the crunching sounds following her every step, Lìfa knew she got herself a new companion. No matter how many times she stopped and tried to send it away, the wolf followed her back to Thornvik.

Townsfolk whispered behind her back, as she walked past the streets with the wolf by her side. The gossip spread like wildfire and soon everyone stood by their doorways, staring at the strange duo. Lìfa was grateful for the cold weather hiding the burning redness of her face. She couldn't stand the searching eyes piercing through her. Hearing the news, Sveinn ran out from the meadhall, followed by Ivar. His face lightening up by the sight of his friend, he wrapped Lìfa in a tight hug, threatening to snap a few bones.

"Don't ever do that again! I was so worried about you! You could have died out there!"

"I'm happy to see you again too, but I can't breathe! Would you put me down?" Lìfa squealed in his embrace, trying to break free. When the still grinning boy finally let go of her, Ivar stepped beside them too, his brows running high in surprise.

"I see, you found your wolf after all."

"Well, yes... We kind of helped each other, it's a story to be told by a horn of beer... And then it just followed me home." Lìfa rubbed the back of her neck, standing from one foot to another.

"I think you should keep it. How do you want to call it?" Sveinn asked with excitement shining in his blue eyes. The sight of the wolf clearly didn't scare him like the townspeople.

Looking into the eyes of the wolf, Lìfa thought back at her dream and the happenings of last night. Rubbing her chin, she tried to find a name suitable for her new friend. After a few seconds, her lips curved into a smile as she uttered the words.

"I'll call him Fenrir*."

Notes:
Surtur -  A fire giant who leads his kin against the Asgardian gods during Ragnarok, to destroy the world.

Heimdall – An old Norse god, the watchman of Asgard. According to the old tales, during Ragnarok Loki falls by his hands.

Fenrir – A wolf who is one of Loki's children. The gods were afraid of this powerful beast, so they chained him. During Ragnarok, Fenrir breaks free and swallows the Sun and the Moon.

A/N:
Sorry, writing this took me so long, because I had exams. To be honest, the chapter really barey the scars of this period, and I don't really like how it turned out...
Anyway, I hope you still enjoyed reading it. I promise, the following ones will be better!!!
Love,
Csenge 💙