Freyja raised one shapely eyebrow at her. “Because I don’t know much about him?”
She gave the goddess a droll look. “Seriously? That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard. You always know everything about people before they open up. It is quite annoying.”
Freyja’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t read him, nor can I find anything about his past on Midgard. I also recognized his guardians’ names.”
“You did? Why didn’t you say something to him then? Who are they?”
“The Lukan and Kulirra Hillhead I knew long ago were dwarves who served the Elven house of Elasalor.”
Alva frowned. “Why do I know that name?”
“I don’t know. One brother, Olivier, disappeared. His younger brother’s tale is almost as tragic.”
“Wasn’t that Bernard’s father’s name? That can’t be a coincidence. What happened to the brother?”
Freyja’s expression turned wistful. “The two brothers were hunted by their own father for siding with the black- and dark elves during the Great Elven War. It was a devastating civil conflict between elf factions about who had the right to rule. No one heard from either brother for so long, it was believed they perished by their father’s hand. Decades later, Freyr overheard a rumor about one of the brothers and found him on Midgard. Émilien had been captured by an evil druid, who cursed him to live in the shape of a werewolf with no ability to regain his true form.”
Alva’s eyes widened. “You’re talking about the Beast of Gévaudan, aren’t you?”
The goddess nodded. “I am. Émilien’s story is a true Greek tragedy.”
“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds devastating.”
“It was. A Greek tragedy is an ancient type of play, created by the Greek playwright, Aeschylus, where the main character is brought to ruin, suffering intense sorrow as a result of a moral weakness or tragic flaw, and is unable to cope with the terrible circumstances. Tragically, pun intended, this is exactly what happened to Émilien. I do not know how to fix him, so until we figure out how to reverse the spell, he will remain in his current form and unable to win back Hel’s love.”
“Wait, you aren’t talking about the ruler of Helheimr, are you?”
Freyja nodded. “Unfortunately, I am. To make matters worse, they have a daughter.” She laid her hand on Alva’s arm. “That is a problem for another time. Right now, we need to concentrate on the one we have now, or it won’t matter if Émilien is uncursed or not, because we will all be dead. I’m quite certain I know where Bernard went, so I will send you there.”
“Where is that, if I may ask?”
“To Fort Shafter, on the main Hawaiian island of Oahu. Bernard mentioned decoding Japanese messages, and since the fort is the naval base, I believe you will find him there.” With a quick glance around the empty tavern, Freyja raised her hand to send Alva back in time but seemed to hesitate. Working for Freyja for so long had given her a tiny bit of insight, so she waited, knowing the goddess worried about something. Her patience paid off when Freyja sighed.
“Watch out for him, Alva. Something tells me Bernard is destined for something greater than simply being my soldier. I’m counting on you to bring him home...alive.”