“Fhfhfhfhfh… Fhfhfhfh…” Desmond’s teeth were clattering from the biting cold as he sat in a frozen daze. He had a wealth of modern knowledge, and many years of experience in the field of life, but he couldn’t fathom how he’d just shown up where he was. He could only look around and absorb his surroundings. There were many evergreen trees that continued in thick clusters, seemingly endless, creating a forest that ruled the horizon in every direction he looked. Yet behind him stood a decrepit old house with vines growing from every crack, clearly standing on its last limb. It seemed to be a longhouse from those movies of the Norse Vikings from the medieval era, likely indicating he was in Norway somewhere, though why a landmark like this was left untapped was beyond him. The house looked so real and in such a perfectly preserved, though not much really, condition, which meant that someone was keeping up with it, albeit rather poorly.

       While he was scanning the house, he noticed that there were no windows, only small panels on the upper ceiling of the “First Floor” and a wooden door crafted from three long wooden planks, tied together with aged twine. A rope was attached to the front door where a door knob would usually be, as it was wrapped around a stick of some sort that protruded from the wall. It seemed to be a mechanism that was used to keep the door closed, though it repeatedly opened and closed with the bursts of wind, only being limited by the knotted rope.

       The next thing that struck Desmond, and the most shocking thing of all so far, was that the house and trees seemed small, a little bit too small, the trees especially so. As Desmond looked down, he noticed his body was much heavier than before, and he was several inches if not a foot taller, with much broader shoulders, and a tied beard hanging from his chin. He felt a weight on his waist, and upon glancing, he noticed he was wearing a hatchet or axe of some sort. Upon second glance, he noticed that he was also wearing leather clothing that was thick enough to greatly limit the impact of a sledge hammer, while also providing warmth, though seemingly not in the right places, as his clattering teeth suggested.

       What the hell?! This was clearly not the same attire he wore before, nor the same physique he previously had. This was too bizarre a situation, enough to be a dream, though after pinching himself several times, and even resorting to banging his head against a tree, he failed to wake up.

       “What is happening?! Where am I?!” He voiced into the abyss that was the forest only several meters away. He was somewhere he’d never been, in somebodies’ body he’d never known, wearing things he’d never wear, and entirely alone with absolutely no explanation as to what was occurring. Several moments ago, he’d simply been reading a book of a knight that journeyed to the four corners of the earth to gather the pieces of reality and cast them back together, or something like that. He was in his humble abode in an urban no name city in the Midwest, minding his own business. Just when he closed his eyes for a literal second, he opened them to this bizarre situation.

       While the uncanny feeling this entire situation gave him continued to build, and just when he’d been about to explode, he heard a twig snapping deep in the distant forest. What was that?! He swung his head about in the direction of the noise as it repeated itself, this time a little louder.

Chik. Chik. Crack.

     As his mind jumped into overdrive, he began looking around, trying to prepare himself for a course of action in case it was a threat. To his surprise, he was rather calm. Aside from the sun barely rising upon dawn, and him being in a deep dark forest, it was a rather contained situation thus far. As he thought to himself, he looked down to his, what he’d assume at this point, hand axe, then at the house. Forming his plan, his hands and legs sneakily jolted into action as he drew the hand axe and moved towards the house. Upon arriving, he began unwrapping the roped latch as the sounds grew closer.

Chik. Crack. Chok.

     The sounds of twigs snapping and leaves rustling echoed in a mysterious reverb in Desmond’s ear as he had finally undone the last loop in the rope. Swinging the door open, he walked in and grabbed the rope on the other side. Just when he was about to shut the door-

     “Chief?” A hefty and manly voice tinged with a bit of excitement sounded out from the direction of the twigs. Chief? Desmond looked in the direction of the voice, and sure enough, the physique matched the voice. What he saw was a six-foot-nine tall burly bear of a man who was clearly well-fed, if not a bit too well fed, who was dressed in almost identical attire to himself, and rather than carrying a hand axe, he held a 7-foot spear in his right hand along with what seemed to be a single long plank being used in place of a shield strapped on his back. Along with all this equipment, the man carried another unique feature, which was the beaming smile of a happy puppy splattered across his face that could light up the forest and shame the sun. The man carried a lively and uppity jog as he strode over.

     ” Are you-”

     “Chief.” Another voice suddenly called out. Behind the burly man came a second, much smaller man from the same path the bear-man emerged from. This man, however, seemed to be of the exact opposite nature. The man held a gloomy death in his eyes as he seemed to walk with a lack of life to his step. Aside from his eyes and stride, no emotion could be seen, as his lips laid flat and his head was level. Upon seeing Desmond however, his posture entirely changed. His eyes flashed before going back to normal, but his back became straight as it speared for the heavens. His mouth forming into a half-smile, he now wore a strange look of gratitude as he peered into the depths of Desmond’s eyes.

     Before Desmond could voice his confusion, another man appeared, followed by another, and another. Several burly men, meek men, tall men, short men, wise and arrogant, brave and timid, and all arrays of different men continued to arrive. Within a short minute or two, over fifty people had gathered, all with expressions of anticipation, and all with the same respect to Desmond, and all sharing the same word of exchange, that being “Chief”.

     What the hell is happening?!? Desmond’s mind was crying aloud for an explanation. One surprise after another greatly overwhelmed him, but they were all irrelevant compared to what happened next. As he was thinking of who these men were and, in fact, who he was, a pain streaked across his forehead like a bolt of lightning, completely crippling him to the ground. As the gathering of battle-ready men rushed to his side, he lost consciousness to the sound of the first man shouting something along the lines of, “Fetch the three Sages!”

***

     “That bastard!” Desmond awoke to the sound of a man shouting to a ceiling with fury like no other. Opening his eyes, his throat felt hoarse as he realized it was him, but not him. He wasn’t in control of this dream within a dream, but he could tell that he had the same physique from a moment ago. …What’s happening now??? He sighed within his mind. Before he could think any further, he shouted yet again, “You and your tribe kill my kin and spit at my honor, and you find the stones to request my FORGIVENESS?!?” Desmond shouted at a man who held his head low enough that he could practically lick the ground.

     “Chief Ebinferr did so to collect a debt. He requests your wise and powerful self, Chief Aelrich, to look past this offense for the greater of the two tribes. It was only a woman and a few elderlies!” The messenger cried in defense.

     “Only a woman and a few elderlies?!? She was my brother’s wedded! And THEY were my tribes’ ancestors! I tell you! Your way with words and your evil deeds have cost you greatly, for this offense shall be repaid in a debt of BLOOD!”

     Shouting these words, the entire longhouse fell silent. The air was deathly still, and cold as could be. The men from both tribes eyed each other with a strange sense of unease and both sides reached for their weapons. The messenger eyed Desmond, or rather Chief Aelrich, with a frightened look flashing through his eyes as he seemingly couldn’t piece together what went wrong so suddenly.

     Noticing that everything had come to a standstill, and that the words were spoken and could not be retrieved, the burly bear man stepped forward, a fury contrary to his demeanor in the forest etched onto his face as he spoke, “Leave now, before the flames of the debt begin with you!”

     With these words, the few men that had come as dignitaries hastily evacuated the longhouse, mounting a few slightly malnourished horses before speedily galloping for the horizon.

     With them gone, the remaining men all turned to Aelrich with worry in their eyes, their faces all familiar too him. “Are we truly going to repay the offense in blood?” One of the few questioned.

     “If we weren’t, we would be dishonoring those who stood before us and gave us food to live, and food to nourish the very lives our offenders took.” He paused, stepping forward with resolve. “Today, we prepare. Tomorrow, we eat. Then finally, we repay our offenders.” Hate flashed through Aelrich’s eyes, as not only were the elderly slaughtered and his brother’s companion killed, but even several other women were deflowered, the offenders taking their purity with them.

     Hearing these words, the men in the longhouse began to breath heavily, their blood boiling as they shouted to the ceiling with starving anticipation, as though slaves liberated from their chains.

     Naturally, along with the entire event before him playing out, Desmond felt every emotion that ran through “Chief Aelrich”, and his anguish was shared to the corners of his mind. Before long however, another unearthly pain struck before his vision went black.

***

     After an unknown time, Desmond awoke again, yet was forced to accept his fate. He was once again in the brawny body of Chief Aelrich. It was now safe to say that he and Aelrich were one in the same, as a grand collection of memories came flooding into his mind like a broken dam. He knew who he was, and where he was, and, more importantly, who the three elderly men whose wisdom beyond their greater years showed in their eyes were. They wore distinct leather padded wool coats with a vibrant black tassel wrapping around their shoulders, displaying their intelligence and importance. 

     “Sage Rolf, Sage Asper, Sage Erenn!” He exclaimed, noticing that even his entire demeanor was rapidly adjusting.

     “Chief!” All three immediately rushed to his side and inspected his condition through and through, almost as if seeing a miracle occurring before their eyes.

     “How do you feel Aelrich?” The eldest of the three, Sage Rolf, asked from the side, immediately spearheading the key issue. He had a curious tone to his question, as he looked Aelrich in the eye rather than inspecting his condition physically. Although others often called Aelrich “Chief” out of respect, the three of them had a seniority and position nearly equal to the young and ambitious man before them and they had raised him from birth, serving his father, thus they had no obligation to call him so.

     “My head is burning with pain, and I’m a bit fatigued. Aside from that, I’m fine.” Aelrich responded. Half of him wanted to explain the situation with his other half, but he quickly stopped himself. The few reasons were simple. If he’d told them that he’d merged souls with another man, the amount of misunderstandings that could arise may be infinite, let alone the fact that he may be known as Aelrich the Cursed, or if someone entertained the brilliant idea of questioning his legitimacy due to this. Aelrich understood what type of world this was, which was clearly not earth, and what doctrine of culture these tribes practiced. If they knew that an otherworldly spirit had merged with Chief Aelrich, they would do everything in their power to rid of it, no matter the cost, and neither Aelrich, nor Desmond, had time for this. Besides, there would be absolutely no gain in speaking of this event, but there would be everything to gain from keeping it close to heart.

     “Can you stand?” Sage Asper questioned enthusiastically.

     “I can.” Aelrich nodded.

     “Can you fight?” Sage Erenn questioned heartily.

     “I can!” Aelrich’s blood began to boil.

     “… Will you lead?” Sage Rolf questioned daringly.

     Aelrich began to rise, gripping the handaxe that laid quietly by his cot, “I will.” As he put one foot in front of the other, he opened the longhouse door to be greeted by weak and fretful gazes of his brothers in arms before raising his weapon and roaring to the gods, “THE BLOOD DEBT WILL BE PAID!!!”

   “UWAAH!”

***