Skanemark, also known as the “Ceiling of Mediat”, is a landmass to the north of the Median mainland. Covered in evergreen forests and rolling hills to its north, most of the population lives in the southern flatlands, eking out a living through fishing and farming. -Otto Beutehart, Imperial Historian. “Median Geography, Volume I Book III”.
The early morning light filtered in through the cottage windows, illuminating the dusty air. This time, Li Xiqin’s phone did not sound. It had run out of battery ages ago, and with alternating current being a foreign concept to this world, there was no way to charge it.
He sat up in bed, letting out a yawn as he stretched his arms. Glancing out the window across the snow-covered ground, Li could see the buildings that made up the rest of the village. Just behind the animal barn, he spotted the frozen river that ran past the settlement. Judging by the position of the sun and the white smoke puffing out of the village chimneys, he had woken up late again.
The morning tranquility was rudely shattered by a loud banging on the door, which burst open to reveal a well-built young man with messy blonde hair. Li groaned. “Damn it Albrecht, that’s not what I meant when I told you to knock before entering. Grinning, Albrecht struck a pose in the doorway. “Mother’s orders”, he replied. “If you don’t hurry your skinny ass out of bed, she’s gonna get pissed at you.” Li scowled. “Never knew Skeirheim’s best fighter was such a mommy’s boy.” “Stuff it, you know how scary she is when she’s mad.”
Li indeed knew first-hand how scary Albrecht’s mother could be when she was mad. Thankfully, at the time, her anger hadn’t been directed at him. Turning his head to look out the window again, his mind wandered back to how he had first met Albrecht Achilles.
After personally experiencing a javelin throw gone horribly wrong, Li had found himself lying in a clearing in a forest he had never seen before. Confused, he had stumbled through the forest for several hours before chancing upon Albrecht who, mistaking him for a deer, lobbed a spear at his head. The spear just barely missed, passing ahead of him before embedding itself into a tree. Li had been just 50 centimetres away from his second impalement of the day.
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Having been brought back to Skeirheim village, where Albrecht resided, Li watched as the Achilles matriarch, Johanna, chased her son around the village with an iron pot for nearly skewering someone. Albrecht couldn’t sit properly for several days. Li couldn’t tell the villagers that he was from another world – he highly doubted the villagers would believe him, and even if they did, he didn’t want to find out if they’d burn him as a witch. As such, he told them that he had lost his memory, and had nowhere to go. Upon hearing his story, Johanna offered him a place in her own home as an apology for her son nearly killing him, an offer Li gratefully accepted. Although she looked fierce, fought fiercely, and possessed the fiercest temper he had ever seen, she was a kind person at heart.
Another series of bangs on the door snapped Li out of his reverie. “Coming, coming!” he shouted as he rushed to get dressed. Soon after he settled down in her home, Johanna had gifted Li a set of newly sown clothes. Such a simple gesture had brought tears to his eyes, as he knew how difficult it was to make clothing without modern technology. His old set of clothes, the ones he had worn on that fateful morning many months ago, was sitting in his day pack, along with his now-dead phone, snack bar wrappers, and empty water bottles – having nobly sacrificed themselves in the name of his survival during his hours-long journey through the woods.
Li pulled open the door and walked out into the main chamber of the cottage. The fact that the building had several rooms was indication of their high status within the village – most houses only had a single room for the entire family. Albrecht was reclining next to the fireplace on a deerhide rug, stuffing his face with bread. Johanna was stooped over the cauldron, stirring a pot of porridge. Hearing the floorboards creak, she turned her head and gave a quick nod of acknowledgement.
“Your food’s on the table”, she said curtly, before going back to minding the pot. Breakfast was brown rye bread and fresh goat cheese, all made in the Achilles home. The amount of bread set out for him seemed to be a bit lacking today. Behind him, Albrecht let out a loud burp.
“Are you heading to Olof’s place again today?” she asked without looking up. “Of course”, Li replied, taking a bite of cheese. Olof Snikkarson was the village carpenter. He ran a small sawmill on the edge of the village, near the forest; he also ran the workshop. Apart from a few pieces purchased from travelling peddlers, nearly all the furniture in the village, and all the wood used in the village’s buildings, had passed through Olof’s hands.
Finishing his meal, Li grabbed his jacket off the wall. Like the clothes he now wore, and the boots he was now putting on, they were all handmade from fur and hide hunted by Achilles and cloth woven by Johanna. After saying goodbye to mother and son, he left the warmth of the cottage and exited out into the cold, crisp air of winter.