Kafrim sat on a hill overlooking an ocean, brooding. He didn’t like what the Hollow God had told him, not one bit. Sure, the main reasons he’d wanted the cloak was to be able to go anywhere and see anything, and those he had, but not at any price. Not at any price at all, honestly - he was a thief, the whole point was that he didn’t pay.

The Professor might be able to do something, of course. Although if the Hollow God with all his powers hadn’t been able to find the right wavelength... He’d ask him, he’d decided. There had to be something else, but so far, it eluded him.

He looked out over the ocean and made a face. So close. He’d almost done it. Just one small problem left to fix.

He’d thought about physics, as as he knew anything about it. It had taken him about five minutes to exhaust the subject - it bored him to tears. Then he’d thought about other people who knew physics. And who knew physics in the post-Event world. That was a very short list. Then he’d thought about eating things. He might be able to stand it if he only fed small, ugly things to the cloak, instead of people or kittens and bunnies. But – yuck.

All this in order to get something he hadn’t been all that keen on anyway. He’d really been after the teleportation ability, and that nifty trick of looking at anything, anywhere. Immortality had seemed like a nice bonus. He snorted.

Immortality is a myth, the Hollow God had said. Kafrim had never really thought about it before - he’d just heard the Hollow God was ancient beyond measure, in some versions, and truly immortal in other.

In one sense everyone was, in a game world where they just respawned when they died. Too bad he didn’t have any real immortal gods to talk to.

The memory returned from wherever forgotten memories go, with such force that he slapped himself on the forehead. Of course! He did know an immortal god. Goddess, rather. He hoped she wasn’t angry with him any more - but come on, it had been more than ten years. And besides, she was a goddess of love. And war, but he decided to ignore that.

Yes, a visit to Valhalla was definitely in order, to see Freya again.

When he opened his eyes he was standing in front of two huge golden doors, in the middle of a wooden palisade stretching as far as his eye could see to either side.

He shuddered at the memory of his last visit to Valhalla, when Freya had dragged him through those doors and into Odin’s hall. All because of a misunderstanding, as he’d explained. The only one who had seemed to understand was Loki, sitting to one side and laughing to himself the whole time.

There should be no need to go there, he knew where she lived. He shifted up, just as the guards noticed him, and began jogging across the flat grassland outside the walls, into the forest beyond. There was no need to speed up for protection here, just to make the journey less tedious, so he kept himself to a comfortable shift factor and watched the scenery as it sped past.

The forest became steadily more pleasant, with huge oak and beech trees ringing meadow glades with buzzing bees and singing birds. That was Freya’s work, according to herself, and Kafrim smiled as he remembered a picnic with the goddess in one such glade. It had been pleasant, and just before the unfortunate misunderstanding.

He plunged down a steep beech-covered slope, and entered Freya’s valley. He turned right and followed the little brook, and very soon he arrived at her deceptively plain-looking house. She’d sighed when he asked her about it, and said it had taken quite a bit of work to get the cartoonist’s ideas to match up with mythology.

The goddess of love and war was standing outside the house, with butterflies and birds surrounding her. She seemed to be talking to a bird, but she glanced towards Kafrim even before he shifted down. He stopped in his tracks and just stared at her. She took his breath away, as always. Like she did with everyone.

It wouldn’t do to forget that despite her beauty she was a goddess, with all that entailed. So start with manners. He shifted down, and was happy he’d stopped just outside the border to her plot.

“Kafrim!” she called out, with a delighted look that made him weak in the knees. “I’m just talking...” she trailed off and her eyes narrowed. Then she murmured something to the bird, which cawed and flew off. A raven, he saw, one of Odin’s birds.

“You!” she said and drew herself up to her full height. She did not look delighted in the least. Her eyes blazed and she stared at him in fury. “Odin told you not to come back here. I just told him you defied him.”

“Uh,” Kafrim said, confused. “It’s me, Kafrim. Odin never said anything like that. I know we had some misunderstandings, but he said it was none of his business.”

She walked slowly towards him, her golden hair streaming behind her, and her hands flexing, like claws. Behind her, large black cats jumped out of the windows of the little house. He noticed that the sky had clouded over and was darkening quickly. He hoped that did not mean what it looked like, that Thor was on the way.

“Prove it,” she hissed. “If you can. Or we will tear you apart. Here, in our world. Not in yours.”

Kafrim found himself backing away, trying to think. What had gotten into her? This was completely crazy. The cats had begun circling him, which vividly brought back an extremely uncomfortable memory from last time.

Freya had decided to put a sick and suffering deer out of its misery, with the help of her cats. It had been quick, and left very little of the deer intact. Even before the cats started feeding.

“How do you want me to prove it? What would be good enough for you?” he tried, fishing desperately for some hint of who she thought he was.

“That’s your problem,” she said, her voice still hissing like a cat’s. “If you’ve consumed Kafrim you have his memories, so I won’t trust anything you say about our previous meetings.”

She thinks I’m the Hollow God, he realized. But how? Perhaps she could sense the cloak somehow.

“Give me a chance to do it at least!” he said, trying to track what must be more than a hundred cats spreading out around him. Two hundred. “Don’t attack me!”

The cats stopped getting closer, but were still circling him in multiple circles, silently, like shadows of death. The goddess stood a few meters away, her eyes still burning with anger and long, sharp claws arcing out from her fingers. Above her, in the sky, the first faint rumblings of thunder rolled.

“I am Kafrim!” he said. “I really am. You think I am the Hollow God, right?”

She didn’t reply, or move, but he saw a tiny shift in her eyes that took as assent.

“I’m not,” he continued, “I just have his cloak. I stole it from him.” I’m a thief you know, he almost added, but it might not be so smart to remind her of that just now. “You must be able to tell us apart, can’t you? You can see into people’s heart.” She’d said so, herself.

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Freya smiled in response, a horribly sharp smile with lots of teeth. “So I can,” she said. “And you know what happens if you try to absorb me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he protested, but he couldn’t help wonder. Exactly what was the history between Freya and The Hollow God?

“Good,” she said and stepped closer, holding out her hands with those terrible claws. “Listen. Thor is here now. You know what he can do, too.” Thunder rolled across the sky, from horizon to horizon.

Kafrim gulped as she put her palms on his cheeks. She was so close he could feel her breath, but there was nothing romantic about the situation. Her eyes blazed yellow, like a cat, and he could feel the tension in her body, as if she was poised to rip him apart.

Instead, she sent fire through her hands and into his face. He screamed, before he realized it wasn’t actual fire, it just felt like it. He shut his mouth as he saw the goddess smile again, but with at least a hint of amusement this time.

“Yes,” she said. “I can sense your heart. And I recognize it.” She let go of his head and took several steps back. Kafrim reached up to touch his cheek, where the skin still burned. He grimaced.

“Was that really necessary?” he muttered. He had a distinct memory of her looking into his heart with a soft, tender touch.

“It wasn’t my intent to hurt you,” she said, shrugging. “I think it’s that cloak. It feels really icky.”

“But you trust that I am me now?”

She nodded. Just then a wooden chariot swept down from the sky, drawn by two ferocious-looking goats. The god of thunder stood in back, and looked questioningly at Freya. She shook her head.

“It’s just Kafrim,” she said. “The mortal that tried to steal my bird cloak some time back.”

“I remember,” Thor rumbled and grinned at Kafrim. “So you dare to come back. With another cloak this time, I take it?” This last was directed at Freya, who nodded.

“I believe there is a tale to be told here,” she said, “but not here and now. I did not think it was possible to steal it from the Hollow God.”

“It wasn’t, for anyone but me,” Kafrim said modestly.

“Why did you return?” she asked him. “I haven’t forgotten what you did, or tried to do.”

“I need your help,” Kafrim said bluntly. “I stole this cloak, and then I found out it will kill me if I don’t do what the Hollow God does and eat people. Which I won’t do,” he added as her face darkened. “I came here because I want to know the secret to your immortality.”

“Immortality?” she said, and glanced at Thor. “We’re not immortal.”

“What?” Kafrim said. “I thought you had eternal youth.”

“We do, but we’re not immortal. Haven’t you heard of Ragnarök?”

“Yeah,” Kafrim said.

“Most of us will die there.” She shrugged. “The world itself will die. Everything dies, sooner or later.”

He stared at her.

“Immortality is a myth,” Thor snorted. “A children’s tale, that makes people slow and comfortable.”

“But...” Kafrim said.

“Oh Kafrim,” Freya said and shook her head. “You have much to learn. But you will need to learn it, if you’re going to be a god now.”

“If I’m going...” His head was spinning. This was even less what he’d wanted. He wasn’t going to be a god, no way.

“How quickly does it kill you?” Thor said. “We might convince Idun to give you an apple or two if it’s happening quickly.”

He almost said no, there were plenty of time. Then he changed his mind.

“I would really appreciate that,” he said. He had no idea how these apples would work with the cloak, but what if they did?

“Let’s go see her,” Thor said, and gestured for Kafrim and Freya to follow her up on the chariot. As Freya stepped onboard, she waved her hands, scattering the cats. Her hands were back to normal, Kafrim noticed.

He’d never flown with Thor before, and it was exhilarating and completely insane. The goats couldn’t be more than half goats, he thought, the rest had to be some kind of monster. They tore the chariot from the ground with a thunderous roar, and then careened through the sky like the lightning itself.

Kafrim clung to the side for dear life, until he noticed the others standing calmly and giving him amused looks. He didn’t care what he looked like, he decided, better look silly onboard the chariot than be a flattened corpse on the ground.

Before he knew it, they descended again, braking more or less instantly as they landed in the middle of a large orchard. A woman was standing a few meters away with a basket full of apples.

“Hi Idun,” Thor said to her. “We have a new guy here who needs an apple.”

“A new guy?” the goddess said and came over.

“Not one of us,” Thor added.

“But we’ve had dealings with him before,” Freya said.

“You know we don’t hand out apples to everyone,” Idun said, but she smiled as she said it.

“I know,” Thor said. “Just one. To see what happens,” he added, with a glance at Kafrim.

So Thor might know more about the cloak than he let on, Kafrim realized. Well, it was more or less what he wanted to.

“We can spare one,” Idun allowed, and selected one from the basket. “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Kafrim said and took it.

“If you will want more, or need more, we will need to make a deal,” she said.

“Okay,” Kafrim said, and bit into the apple.

And stopped, the moment his teeth sank into it. It was utterly delicious. He’d never tasted anything like it. It tasted of spring, of morning and of youth and energy. It tasted like the sun itself rising over the horizon, splashing sunlight over everything.

Idun laughed at his expression. “Don’t eat it too fast. They are very powerful, even for us. Some have died when they eat too fast and can’t handle it.”

Kafrim swallowed the piece he was chewing on, and looked around the god and goddesses. He felt dazed, but happy. Very happy.

“Wow,” he managed.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Freya said. “It won’t hurt this time. Not as much, at least.”

“Yeah yeah, sure!” Kafrim felt light-headed, and of course he would let the goddess of love touch him!

She reached out with a finger and touched his forehead, just a light touch. It sent tingles of joy through him and he laughed out loud.

“Yes,” Freya said. “It is doing good.”

“Good,” Thor said. “Then I need to go. But I want to meet you again later,” he said to Kafrim. “Drop by Valhalla some evening.”

“I will,” Kafrim said and waved as the thunder god shot into the air again.

“And I want to know what’s going on,” Idun said, to Freya.

“I’ll tell you,” Freya said, “but there is another tale that Kafrim here needs to tell.” She reached out and rapped her hand on his shoulder. “Do what Thor said. Come to Valhalla some night, and tell us.”

He nodded happily. The effect of the apple was still sinking in, and he felt drunk. Drunk on life.

Freya regarded him with an amused smile. “I think it’s best if you stay here while you eat the apple. Walk around a bit, that’s good for digestion. I’ll fill Idun in on who you are and what I know. Don’t leave, okay?”

“I won’t!” he declared cheerfully and strode off among the apple trees.

Damn, he felt good! Apples of eternal youth, what a brilliant idea! Those would sell like hotcakes in, in all the worlds. But no - he was not even going to think about stealing one. The Aesir would not be happy at all, and he’d had enough of their wrath.

Especially now that he’d tasted some of their camaraderie. They’d treated him almost as one of them. That was unexpectedly pleasant. Perhaps he could get used to being godlike. As long as he could still do some thieving, at least on the side.

Come to think of it, that didn’t seem impossible. He should definitely go back to Valhalla some day, and have a chat with Loki while he was there.

Right now, though, all he wanted to do was munch on the apple. It was absolutely fantastic, and he felt life and vigor flow through his body and sink into his bones with each bite. And - something else. A hunger, that he hadn’t even noticed before.

It wasn’t physical hunger, it was different. It was more like a pull, an urge to pull things towards him and... absorb them. It was the cloak, he realized. It needed nourishment, to make up for the stuff that leaked out, and the natural thing for it was to absorb other things.

The apple seemed to sate it. The urge hadn’t been strong, yet, but now it was gone completely. It would come back, sooner or later, but nothing another apple couldn’t fix.

And so, finally, Kafrim relaxed, and basked in his success and triumph, as he walked beneath Idun’s apple trees and munched on his apple. He sang to himself and thought about Freya and Idun and the other Aesir, and the Hollow God and his light throne.

He’d simply planned on becoming an even greater thief, but now he’d ended up as some sort of demi-god. Granted, he wasn’t immortal, but that was apparently a myth anyway. So it didn’t matter.

Mission completed, he thought happily. I knew this was a good idea, even if certain people said it wasn’t. Speaking of certain people - he suddenly thought of Hannah, and her empty extra room. She hadn’t offered it, not directly, but if that hadn’t been an offer to move in, he was blind and deaf and dumb, too.

And, he thought, he should bring her along to Valhalla. That should be more to her taste. Yes, and then she could listen to the full heroic tale, along with the Aesir and Vanir.

First, though, he had an apple to eat.