Prologue

In the heart of a city cloaked in shadows, Adrian Masqe knew nothing but misfortune. His life had become a relentless procession of misery. Each day, he trudged to a dead-end job that barely kept the hunger at bay and watched as his meager paycheck dissolved into a river of unpaid bills. In a world filled with vibrant connections and social circles, Adrian was a solitary island, devoid of friends or romantic prospects. He had grown accustomed to the weight of his solitude, an anchor chaining him to his wretched existence.

Yet, it was his luck that seemed the cruelest of all his burdens. Misadventures and mishaps followed him like loyal hounds, harassing him relentlessly. The universe had made him its favorite punching bag, and he had grown weary of its cruel sense of humor.

Then, on one fateful evening when despair clung to him like a shroud, the impossible happened. A figure, shimmering with an ethereal glow, appeared before Adrian. It was the God of Fortune, a deity rumored only in whispers, a myth known to grant incredible boons to the desperate and the destitute.

"You, Adrian Masqe," the deity's voice echoed like the chiming of a thousand bells, "I am the God of Fortune. I have watched your suffering, and I offer you a choice: to shed your cursed luck and be reborn into a life of fortune and joy."

Adrian hesitated, his mind racing with thoughts of comfort, happiness, and an end to his torment. But then, a darker notion crept in. A thought that simmered beneath the surface, an ember of resentment born of a lifetime of hardship.

"Wait," Adrian said, his voice trembling but resolute. "What if, instead of living in a world where fortune graces me, I could lord over others? What if I could make them feel the despair I've known?"

The God of Fortune paused, its luminous form casting a contemplative glow upon the world-weary mortal.

"Very well," the deity spoke, a smile forming in the cosmic darkness. "Your wish shall be granted, Adrian Masqe, but remember this: the path you choose will not be without its own darkness. Fortune, after all, is a double-edged sword."

Chapter one. 

Adrian awoke with a s, his senses jolted into awareness by the unfamiliar surroundings. As his eyes blinked open, he found himself lying in a small, humble home that seemed to belong to another era. The room was dominated by the warmth of aged wood, its walls fashioned from rough-hewn timber, and the ceiling adorned with wooden beams that bore the weight of centuries. The flickering glow of a hearth cast dancing shadows across the room, painting the scene in an amber hue.

Intricately woven tapestries, bearing tales of valiant battles and mythical creatures, hung from the walls. The floor was strewn with rushes, a coarse but comfortable covering that lent a rustic charm to the space. In the corner, an intricately carved wooden chest guarded its secrets.

Adrian tried to sit up, but the sudden shifting weight on his chest threw him off balance. A sense of disorientation gnawed at him as he glanced down at his form. Where once had been a middle-aged man, he now beheld the body of a young woman, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties. He raises his hands, seeing them as delicate and unblemished, betrayed a lifetime yet to be lived.

The world seemed to spin around him, and he couldn't make betraying his circumstances. Why had he awakened in this ancient dwelling? Why was his body so...buxom?

Before his mind could fully grapple with these bewildering questions, the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention to the doorway. A figure stood there, clad in simple yet finely crafted attire, their face illuminated by the warm glow of the hearth. It was a woman, her features ageless and filled with an aura of authority.

"My dear," she said, addressing Adrian with a respectful nod. "I trust your slumber was restful?"

Adrian's confusion ddeepened. Who was this woman, and why was she looking at him so...motherly? 

Suddenly, Adriandeepenedhrobbed as if a thousand voices were clamoring for attention, memories of a life he had never lived flooding into his consciousness. He clutched at his temples, trying to make sense of the overwhelming deluge of emotions, experiences, and knowledge.

With each heartbeat, the lines between his former self and the life of the young woman named Svinna blurred. Her memories intertwined with his, merging into a singular, bewildering narrative. Svinna had been born intersex, a child with both male and female physical attributes. 

As the haze lifted, Adrian understood that today was a momentous day in Svinna's life. It was her Day of Awakening, a day when every person in this world received a class, a designation that held great significance. Although no one referred to it as such, it was a system, a structure that governed their society with unspoken rules.

Svinna had grown up as a timid girl, marked by her father's harsh treatment after her intersex status became apparent. He had expected a male heir, a future Jarl to inherit his legacy, and the revelation of her developing femininity had led to cruel ridicule and neglect.

The woman who had greeted Adrian at the door, the figure who now stood before him, her face lined with concern and love, was Svinna's mother, Freydis. She had been a source of solace and support for her daughter, protecting her from the harshness of her father's judgment.

"My dear Svinna," Freydis said gently, her voice filled with a mother's warmth and tenderness. "Today, you will embark on a journey that will shape your destiny. Your class will be revealed, and you will become the woman you were always meant to be. Your father is also deliberating over to whom you shall be wed."

Adrian, now inhabiting the essence of Svinna, nodded slowly, trying to reconcile his thoughts and memories with those of this young woman. As Svinna's mother - his mother - retreated, he groaned as he stood up, recoiling at the light, angelic tones he heard. Right. This was his voice now. 

Adrian knew that there was no time to dwell on the peculiar circumstances of his new life. The Day of Awakening had arrived, and with it, the momentous event of her arranged marriage.

Adrian ventured deeper into the rustic dwelling. The soft rustle of linen garments and the faint scent of fresh herbs permeated the air. A wooden chest at the foot of the bed contained garments for the day's ceremony.

With a wry smile, Adrian approached the chest. Dressing in a female body was an entirely novel experience. He had to navigate the intricacies of laces and clasps, layers upon layers of fabric, and the curious sensation of having long hair to arrange. It was a daunting task, but he was determined not to let it scare him.

Svinna's sense of humor, a trait he had inherited along with her memories, emerged. "Well," he muttered to himself, "I suppose I'll have to get used to this new wardrobe, won't I?" With a chuckle, he continued his preparations, a temporary respite from the complexities of her situation.

Dressed in the traditional attire of the day, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for the impending meeting with Svinna's father. For now, he set aside thoughts of his transformed body, knowing that the day held challenges far greater than the nuances of gender. 

Adrian, now adorned in the ceremonial attire of Svinna, made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the dwelling, heading toward the grand hall where her father, Bormak Ice-Hide, awaited. He couldn't ignore the pit of unease that churned within him, for he knew what kind of man Bormak was, and what lay ahead for Svinna.

Bormak was a Jarl of undeniable power and wealth, but that power was eclipsed by his cruelty. Adrian had inherited Svinna's memories of a childhood spent in constant fear of her father's wrath. Bormak was a man who reveled in dominance, his towering presence casting a long shadow over all who dared cross his path.

As he entered the grand hall, Adrian could feel the weight of Bormak's malevolence in the air. The Jarl sat upon a throne of ornate wood and gleaming metal, his eyes cold and calculating, his features etched with a lifetime of deceit. Beside him was his wife, and Svinna's mother, looking none too pleased at the man sitting at the guest side head of the feasting table. Karl the Viper, a up and coming chief to the east.

Adrian's heart sank as he realized the fate that awaited Svinna, and by proxy, him – to become the fourth wife of another man, a mere pawn in his endless quest for power and control. The disgust over his new lot in life, the helplessness of his situation, surged through him.

It was then, as Adrian's gaze fell upon Svinna's betrothed, that a resolve took shape within him. He would not stand idly by and let Svinna's life be another chapter in her father's twisted tale. He would take control of her destiny.

In a daring move that stunned the assembled guests, Adrian seized the moment. He reached for the betrothed's axe, a symbol of the man's authority, and ripped it from his belt. The room fell into a shocked silence as he hurled the  axe at the feet of Svinna's future husband.

"I declare a holmgang!" Adrian's voice rang out with unwavering determination. "Let the gods bear witness! I challenge you, Karl the Viper, foul snake, for the right to control my own fate."