Dumitra's lips curl into a grim smile. "They would rather take the risk that the girl can give birth to as many children as possible before dying. The scriptures themselves support this cause as well."

Disgusting. Absolutely fucking disgusting.

"There's a point to which survival should no longer be required if you are sacrificing what it means to be... 'human'," I argue, my voice rising with passion.

Dumitra sighs, her ruby eyes filled with a weariness that speaks of centuries of witnessing such atrocities. "I don't like how things are either, but they have worked for more than three hundred years for the Irish, so things have remained the same. Why change it if it works?"

I clench my fists, feeling the rage bubbling up inside me. "Once I get to rule Norway, I will be coming back here and solving all their problems."

Virginia snorts, her emerald eyes flashing with disdain. "The best you could do is wipe the country off the map."

I turn to her, my yellow eyes narrowing. "Is that your opinion of me?"

"Yes," Virginia says bluntly. "I saw how angry you were during your awakening. That rage is not of a normal person, and I have seen many awakenings in Mother's memories."

Ioana steps forward, her voice soft and placating. "All people are different and special in their own ways. It doesn't mean that you are any less special in your own way."

"Stop kissing her ass," Virginia snaps at her sister.

Ioana's eyes widen in shock. "I would never-"

Dumitra sighs heavily, cutting off her daughters' bickering. "Stop, both of you. The point is that the system in place cannot be changed without thousands of people dying. It's already bad enough that the plague hit them around thirty years ago."

A thought strikes me, and I turn to Dumitra. "Why didn't you treat the plague with your tattoo inventions?"

"We did," Dumitra replies, her voice grave. "This is how they survived the plague in the first place."

I feel my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "How effective was it?"

Dumitra's ruby eyes take on a faraway look, as if she's reliving memories from centuries past. "Effective enough to prevent total annihilation, but not without great cost. The tattoos could cure individuals, yes, but the process was slow and resource-intensive. We couldn't save everyone."

"And let me guess," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "the nobles and clergy got first dibs on the magical cure while the peasants were left to rot?"

Virginia lets out a harsh laugh. "Of course they did. Did you expect anything else?"

I clench my fists, feeling that familiar rage bubbling up inside me. It's like a living thing, this anger, coiled in my gut and ready to strike. "So what was the death toll? How many people did you lose?"

Dumitra's face grows grim. "Nearly half the population of Ireland perished. The tattoos saved many, but not enough. And the aftermath... well, that's when things truly became desperate."

"Desperate how?" I ask, though I have a sinking feeling I already know the answer.

Ioana speaks up, her voice soft and sad. "That's when they started marrying off girls even younger than before, that's when child marriages became the norm. They needed to repopulate, and quickly."

"And nobody thought to, I don't know, maybe focus on improving living conditions instead?" I spit out. "Clean water, better sanitation, actual fucking nutrition? Or was child rape just the easier option?"

Dumitra sighs heavily. "You speak from a place of knowledge that these people simply don't have, Lile. They don't understand germ theory or proper nutrition. They believe illness is caused by bad humors or divine punishment. And in their desperation to survive, they turned to the only solution they could see."

I laugh bitterly. "Right, because critical thinking is just too much to ask for. It's not like humans have been solving problems and innovating for thousands of years or anything."

"You forget," Virginia cuts in, her emerald eyes flashing, "that these are not the humans you knew in your past life. They are... different. Changed."

That stops me short. She's right, of course. These people aren't just medieval humans living in squalor. They're human-alien hybrids, their very DNA altered by whatever cosmic fuckery brought me to this world. Who knows how that's affected their cognitive abilities, their capacity for innovation and change?

"Fine," I concede, "but that doesn't make it right. There has to be a better way."

Ioana tilts her head, her expression thoughtful. "What would you suggest, then? If you had the power to change things, what would you do?"

I pause, considering. It's a loaded question, and one I can't answer lightly. "First, I'd focus on basic infrastructure. Clean water, proper sewage systems, better housing. Then education - not just reading and writing, but practical skills like hygiene and first aid. And I'd put a stop to child marriages, full stop. No exceptions."

Dumitra nods slowly. "Noble goals, to be sure. But how would you implement them? How would you overcome centuries of ingrained beliefs and traditions?"

"By force if necessary," I say, my voice hard. "Sometimes you have to break a few eggs to make an omelette. And if that means going to war with the church or the nobility, so be it."

Virginia snorts. "And there's that rage again. You'd really start a war, kill thousands, just to impose your idea of a better world?"

I meet her gaze unflinchingly. "If it meant saving millions more in the long run? Yes, I would. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind."

Dumitra's eyes narrow, studying me intently. "You speak of changing the very fabric of society, of upending systems that have been in place for centuries. It's not a task to be undertaken lightly."

"I know," I say, my voice softening slightly. "But someone has to do it. Someone has to break the cycle of ignorance and suffering. And if I have the knowledge and the power to do so, don't I have a responsibility to try?"

Ioana reaches out, her cool hand resting on my arm. "It's a noble sentiment, Lile. But be careful. Power can corrupt even the purest of intentions."

I nod, acknowledging her point. "I know. Believe me, I know. But I can't just sit back and do nothing. Not when I've seen what's possible, what the world could be."

Dumitra sighs, her expression a mixture of admiration and concern. "You have a long, difficult road ahead of you, child. But I sense that you may indeed have the strength to walk it. Just remember, change rarely comes without sacrifice."

As we continue our walk towards Erik's cottage, I can't help but feel the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. It's a daunting task, trying to drag this world kicking and screaming into a better future. But what choice do I have? I'm here, I have the knowledge, and I'll be damned if I don't use it.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"So," I say, trying to lighten the mood slightly, "any other cheerful topics we want to discuss? The mortality rate of childbirth, perhaps? Or maybe the finer points of feudal oppression?"

Virginia rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smirk on her lips. "You have a strange sense of humor, little one."

I shrug, a wry smile tugging at my own mouth. "What can I say? If I don't laugh, I might just scream. And I don't think any of us want a repeat of my awakening, do we?"

As we approach Erik's cottage, the familiar sight of its stone walls and thatched roof comes into view. The meticulously tended herb garden surrounding the dwelling is a stark contrast to the wild forest we've been traversing. Dumitra's voice cuts through my musings, her tone businesslike.

"We're here," she announces, coming to a halt just shy of the garden fence. Her ruby eyes fix on me, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. "Now, little one, listen carefully. I have a plan to convince Erik that you're not merely Gullveig, but something far more intriguing."

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? Do tell."

Dumitra's lips curl into a sly smile. Then, to my surprise, she begins speaking in a language I've never heard before - at least, not in this life. The words flow from her lips like honey, rich and melodious.

"Micul meu Alexander," she purrs, "să vedem cât de mult îți amintești din viața ta trecută." (My little Alexander, let's see how much you can remember from your past life.")

My eyes widen as understanding floods through me. It's Romanian - my mother tongue from my past life. Without missing a beat, I respond in kind.

"Dumitra, ești plină de surprize," I reply, the words feeling both foreign and familiar on my tongue. "Dar cum ai de gând să folosești asta pentru a-l convinge pe Erik?" (Dumitra, you're full of surprises, but how are you planning to use this to convince Erik?)

Dumitra's eyes gleam with approval. She switches back to Irish, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I'll ask Erik if I ever had the time to teach you my mother tongue. When he inevitably says no, we'll demonstrate your fluency. It's a start, but we can think of other things to say that could convince him further."

I nod, a plan forming in my mind. "We could discuss complex topics - physics, philosophy, things a child of this era couldn't possibly know."

"Precisely," Dumitra agrees. Her expression grows serious. "But be prepared, child. Erik will be very shocked once it truly 'lands' in his head that he was talking with an adult who was behaving like a child. He may have... issues with you being a man in your past life."

I can't help but snort at that. "Oh, please. As if that's the strangest thing about this whole situation. He's married to a time-traveling, gender-swapped scientist with magical powers, and he's worried about my past gender?"

Virginia steps forward, her emerald eyes flashing with disapproval. "Be serious," she chides. "Erik is also a living being and deserves respect despite his shortcomings. This will be a significant shock for him."

I open my mouth to retort, but Ioana cuts in, her voice soft and contemplative. "Perhaps we should consider how to break this news gently. Erik has been kind to you, has he not? We wouldn't want to cause him undue distress."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. They're right, of course. As frustrating as Erik can be with his medieval mindset, he's been decent to me. Better than most in this godforsaken time, at least.

"Fine," I concede. "We'll take it slow. But how do we even begin to explain all of this? 'Hey, Erik, remember that child bride you married? Surprise! She's actually a middle-aged man from the future trapped in a little girl's body!' Somehow, I don't think that'll go over well."

Dumitra chuckles, the sound low and musical. "Perhaps not quite so bluntly. We'll start with demonstrating your knowledge, then gradually reveal the truth of your situation. Erik is not a stupid man, merely... limited by the constraints of his time and upbringing."

I nod, a plan starting to form in my mind. "Alright, let's do this. But if he tries to perform an exorcism or something equally asinine, I'm blaming you."

As we approach the cottage door, I can't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. This conversation could change everything - my relationship with Erik, my place in this world, perhaps even my chances of survival. But there's no turning back now.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. Dumitra reaches past me and pushes the door open without bothering to knock. We file in, and I'm immediately struck by the familiar scent of herbs and wood smoke that permeates Erik's home.

Erik is lounging in his armchair, a thick tome open on his lap. His emerald eyes widen in surprise as he takes in our little procession, particularly when Ioana and Virginia enter behind us.

"By Odin's beard," he mutters, setting his book aside. "What's all this then?"

Before he can say another word, Ioana and Virginia rush forward, their voices blending in perfect unison. "Father!" they cry, throwing themselves at Erik with unbridled enthusiasm.

Erik's face contorts in a mixture of affection and discomfort as he's suddenly buried under a pile of vampiric offspring. "Ah, my... my girls," he stammers, awkwardly patting their backs. "What a... pleasant surprise."

Christ, it's like watching a bear trying to cuddle with kittens. Adorable, but also mildly terrifying.

"How did it go?" Erik asks, his eyes darting between Dumitra and me over the heads of his clingy daughters.

Dumitra's ruby lips curl into a satisfied smirk. "Splendidly," she purrs. "Your little wife has awakened as a sight and gesture mage. Her gifts allow her to manipulate wind in quite remarkable ways. She can even levitate."

Erik's eyebrows shoot up, disappearing into his hairline. "Truly? I didn't expect such powerful gifts from Lile."

I can't help but roll my eyes. Of course you didn't expect it, you overgrown Norse beefcake. You probably thought I'd end up with the ability to knit really fast or something equally useless.

"Why didn't you participate in my awakening?" I ask, injecting just the right amount of childish curiosity into my voice.

Erik's expression grows serious. "My father always told me not to get in the middle of mage business," he explains gruffly. "Said I'd end up dead one day or another if I did."

Wise man, your father. Considering Dumitra planned for me to kill you in my rampage, he wasn't far off the mark. I wonder if he had some firsthand experience with magical clusterfucks, or if he was just naturally paranoid.

As Erik speaks, Ioana and Virginia continue to vie for his attention, nuzzling against him like overgrown kittens. It's simultaneously heartwarming and deeply unsettling.

"Father," Ioana coos, her emerald eyes wide and adoring, "we've missed you terribly."

"Indeed," Virginia chimes in, her voice a perfect echo of her sister's. "Won't you hold us close?"

Erik shifts uncomfortably, but he can't quite hide the softness in his eyes as he looks at his daughters. With a resigned sigh, he wraps his massive arms around them both, pulling them close.

To my utter amazement, Ioana and Virginia begin to... purr. It's a deep, rumbling sound that seems to vibrate through the entire cottage. Erik's face cycles through a range of emotions - surprise, confusion, and finally, a sort of bemused acceptance.

As I watch Ioana's display of affection towards Erik, I can't help but ponder the contradiction.

Huh. For someone who's supposedly terrified of losing things she loves, Ioana sure seems to have no problem showering Erik with affection. It's like watching a moth repeatedly slam itself into a flame, knowing full well it's going to get burned.

Then again, I suppose daddy issues transcend even vampiric trauma. Erik's probably the closest thing to a stable parental figure these twins have, considering Dumitra's... unique approach to child-rearing. Killing puppies and tossing your kid to goblins isn't exactly going to win you any 'Mother of the Year' awards. Christ, the therapy bills for this family would bankrupt a small nation.

Dumitra watches the scene unfold, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It's the most genuine expression I've seen on her face yet, and it's... unsettling, to say the least.

As the twins continue to snuggle against their father, purring like oversized, vampiric housecats, Dumitra clears her throat. "Erik," she says, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "I have something important to tell you."

At her words, Ioana and Virginia reluctantly disentangle themselves from Erik, moving to stand beside their mother. I take this as my cue to find a seat, settling into a chair at the table. I lay my head down on the cool wood, muttering, "Here we go."

Dumitra clears her throat, her ruby eyes fixed on Erik with an intensity that could melt steel. "Erik, my dear," she begins, her voice smooth as silk but sharp as a blade, "I'm afraid we've all been laboring under a rather significant misapprehension. You see, Lile is not Gullveig... she's something far more extraordinary."

Erik's brow furrows, his emerald eyes darting between Dumitra and me. "What nonsense is this?" he growls, his massive frame tensing in the armchair.

A smirk plays at the corners of Dumitra's lips as she turns to me. "Lile, dragă, ce părere ai despre această situație?" she asks in flawless Romanian. ("Lile, dear, what is your opinion of this situation?")

Without missing a beat, I lift my head and respond, "E o situație de căcat, ca de obicei. Dar măcar acum putem vorbi fără ca nimeni să ne înțeleagă." ("It's shit, like usual. But we can at least now speak without anyone understanding us.")

Erik's jaw drops, his eyes widening in shock. "What... what language is that?" he stammers.

Dumitra's smirk widens into a predatory grin. "Why, it's my mother tongue, of course. Tell me, Erik, have I ever taught Lile more than a few words of it?"

Erik shakes his head slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion. "No... just a handful of phrases, nothing more."

"Then perhaps you'd care to explain how she's suddenly become fluent?" Dumitra purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction.[...]