A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

"Wait, hold on. You're saying Fenrir, the Fenrir, CEO of Wolfworks, owns the place?"

The Norse council members nodded solemnly, their expressions like children caught raiding the cookie jar.

"Not just Lyngvi," one of the council members clarified, "the whole area of Armsvartnir is his. And Lyngvi happens to be right in the middle of it, making it his private island realm for ten years now."

But when I found out Lyngvi was smack dab in the middle of Armsvartnir, now Fenrir's private property, my jaw practically hit the floor.

"Wait, Fenrir owns Armsvartnir? The literal Wolf of Ragnarok is now also some kind of real estate mogul?"

They all nodded in unison.

"Hah!" I blurted, astonished by the revelation. "Of course, it is. Because why wouldn't the big bad wolf also be a real estate mogul?"

Agnos swished his tail and smirked, "It's been private property for ten years, Carl. Keep up."

I gave Agnos the kind of death stare that could make a cockatrice feel inadequate.

"Why do you want to enter Lyngvi anyway?" I asked, eyeing Agnos suspiciously. "I thought we already had all the fragments. Which, by the way, reminds me—you haven't consumed the last one yet."

"Exactly that reason. I need to go there to consume the last fragment," Agnos replied curtly.

The moment Agnos dropped the bombshell about needing to consume the final fragment at Lyngvi, I felt like someone had hit "hard mode" on my already complex Mythica life.

"And why exactly does it have to be there?" I pressed, crossing my arms.

He gave me that sly, teasing smile of his, the one that practically oozed smugness. "Because, Carl," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence, "it's more dramatic this way."

"Dramatic?" I hissed through gritted teeth. "Why the flair? You're 'Unknown' remember?"

Agnos, utterly unbothered, flicked a paw to examine some imaginary speck of dirt. "Carl, you wouldn't understand. A god's narrative must always have flair. It's in the handbook."

"Oh, right. Because obviously everything you do is written in the Divine Mythica Handbook," I snapped, my sarcasm barely masking my irritation.

"Exactly," he replied with a smirk, completely missing—or choosing to ignore—my tone. "Chapter five, subsection three: 'Never consume ancient power fragments without an appropriate backdrop.' It's common sense, really."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, muttering, "I swear, one day I'm going to write a book about working with you, and it will be titled 'How to Not Strangle Your God Partner.'"

Agnos leaned in, his smug grin widening. "A bestseller for sure. Just make sure to include my good side on the cover."

If looks could kill, Agnos would've needed to invoke his godly powers for resurrection right about now.

The room fell into a tense silence, every single one of the Norse council members staring at me. Their eyes were wide, as though they had just been told I was the chosen one to fix the world's problems.

Naturally, all the other eyes turned to me, the supposed miracle worker who somehow got Fenrir's stamp of approval.

And maybe, in some cosmic way, I was. But right now, all I could think about was one thing: Why is this my problem?

"What are you all looking at me for?!" I asked, throwing my hands up.

"Surely because we need you to act, of course." Agnos tilted his head, his golden cat eyes narrowing. "Didn't you pass his test? You do have a way to contact him, right?"

I shook my head, trying to make sense of the situation. Fenrir, one of the most powerful figures in Mythica, had the token to Lyngvi—this mystical land that I apparently needed access to.

And of course, I was the one who had to contact him. Because apparently, my life just wasn't complicated enough.

Agnos, the ever-chill and incredibly annoying purple cat beside me, seemed to be enjoying my mounting confusion. He swished his tail and let out a low chuckle.

"Carl, you're acting like you've never dealt with gods before," he teased, his eyes sparkling with that same mischievous gleam I knew all too well.

"Of course, I've dealt with gods!" I shot back. "Just never one who owned an entire realm of land and could probably crush me with a single step."

Agnos shrugged. "Same difference. You'll be fine."

"Fine?" I echoed incredulously. "Agnos, Fenrir is a literal god! A god who is Mythica's public figure, and you're telling me it's fine to just ask him for a token like I'm his best friend?"

The Norse council members exchanged nervous glances. One cleared his throat. "You may have better luck than us. Fenrir is… how do I say this... inaccessible. Even we need official appointments, and he's notoriously selective."

"Selective?" I deadpanned. "The god who nearly ended the world is now taking 'official appointments'?"

The council members were watching me intently. One of them, a tall, stern-looking woman with braided silver hair, nodded solemnly.

"You are right to be skeptical," she said in a low voice. "Fenrir is not the type to allow easy access to his private lands. Even as one of the Unknown Gods, Agnos himself probably has little chance of securing permission too. The only one with that privilege now is you, Carl."

I blinked. "Wait—what? Really?"

Agnos flicked his tail—hard—and smacked me upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For being dense," he replied, his voice dripping with condescension. "Do you think the Unknown Gods have some sort of universal keycard? The word unknown should give you a clue about our level of access."

"But you're a VVVVIP member," I argued, rubbing my head. "Can't you pull some strings?"

Agnos raised an eyebrow. "Do you think being a VVVVIP makes you omnipotent? I can't just waltz into someone's private property."

"So what's the plan then?" I asked. "You're not seriously suggesting I ask Fenrir?"

Agnos gave a sly grin, his eyes twinkling with that familiar sense of mischief. "I guess you didn't realize it yet, huh?"

"You don't say!"

"You passed his test, Carl," Agnos continued, his voice almost too casual. "That means you've already earned his trust."

"Well, that's comforting," I muttered. "Now I'm supposed to ask him for the token? How do you even ask?"

The council members exchanged uneasy glances, as if they had been dreading this exact moment. One of them, an older man whose beard could rival the length of any Norse saga, finally spoke up.

"You'll have to message him. He's a very busy god. We can't just call him up without a proper appointment."

I stared at him in disbelief. "A busy god? That's… That's ridiculous!"

"Not really," Agnos chimed in. "Fenrir's presence is everywhere, but he's rarely seen. When you're as powerful as he is, you get to be picky about your guests." Agnos shrugged. "Try sending a message. I don't know what else to tell you."

I let out a long sigh and pulled up the message interface, staring at it for a moment before typing out the most straightforward message I could think of.

Me: "Hey, Fenrir. I need access to Lyngvi. Could you send me a token?"

It seemed like a stupid question, but at this point, what else was I supposed to do?

I hit send and sat back, expecting nothing more than an immediate brush-off or a cryptic response that would leave me even more confused than I already was.

The response came almost instantly. It was so fast that I almost thought I had misread it.

Fenrir: "You already have a token. Don't litter."

I blinked. Then blinked again. "Wait, what?"

I reread the message, but the words were still the same. "You already have a token. Don't litter."

I stared at Agnos, who was watching me with a grin that could only mean one thing—he was enjoying this far too much. "That's it? That's the answer?"

Agnos's tail flicked in amusement. "Apparently."

"Well, this is anticlimactic," I muttered under my breath.

"Fenrir's a man of few words, Carl," Agnos explained nonchalantly, still grinning. "He likes to keep things simple. Now, go grab your token."

I didn't have time to process his words before my thoughts were interrupted by a new message from Fenrir.

Fenrir: "You're welcome to take photos. Just don't disrupt the environment. No geotagging. And remember: no littering."

I blinked again, this time even more confused. "Wait… He said I could take pictures? What?"

Agnos rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of—he just doesn't want you ruining his precious land. Some gods have a thing about keeping things pristine."

I read Fenrir's message again. Take photos? I wasn't sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn't the laid-back tone of the message. I glanced at Agnos, who just shrugged.

"What does that even mean? Take photos? And when did I have a tok—"

I paused mid-sentence as a memory triggered—Fenrir had thrown me a token. I immediately rummaged through my pockets, and sure enough, I found a shiny token with Fenrir's wolf insignia inscribed on it. I had the token all along...

"This?" I asked, holding it up.

Agnos' eyes widened. "That's the token. How long have you been carrying that around?"

"Long enough to feel like an idiot," I muttered.

"Well, I guess we're headed to Lyngvi, then."