I can't help but roll my eyes. This whole song and dance is getting tedious. "Putem termina cu teatrul ăsta?" I mutter to Dumitra. "Nu cred că Erik e suficient de deștept să priceapă." ("Can we end this farce? I don't think he's smart enough to understand.")

Dumitra chuckles, a sound like broken glass. "Patience, little one. Some minds need more... convincing."

Erik's face contorts in frustration. "A language proves nothing," he insists. "Lile has shown time and again that she can learn quickly. This is just another example of her... unique abilities."

Virginia lets out an unladylike snort, earning her a sharp glare from her mother. Dumitra turns back to Erik, her expression growing serious. "Very well, if you require more proof, then allow me to be blunt. Lile is not merely a gifted child, nor is she simply the reincarnation of some long-dead goddess. She is, in fact, a man trapped in a woman's body, hailing from a past so advanced it would make your head spin."

Erik's booming laughter fills the cottage, though there's an edge of unease to it. "Now that's truly ridiculous," he scoffs. "You expect me to believe such drivel?"

I sigh heavily, lifting my head to meet Erik's gaze. "Told you so," I mutter to Dumitra before addressing Erik directly. "Look, I know it sounds insane, but it's the truth. And to prove it, I'll tell you something that no child of this era could possibly know. I can make a medicine that can treat the plague."

Erik's laughter dies in his throat, replaced by a look of intense curiosity. "How?" he demands, leaning forward in his chair.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the lengthy explanation. "It's called penicillin," I begin, my voice taking on a lecturing tone that feels oddly familiar, despite my child's vocal cords. "It's an antibiotic - a substance that kills or inhibits the growth of bacteria. We'll need to start with a specific type of mold called Penicillium notatum or Penicillium chrysogenum."

Erik's brow furrows, but he nods for me to continue. I launch into a detailed description, feeling like a professor giving a particularly complex lecture.

"First, we need to cultivate the mold. We'll use a nutrient-rich medium - something like bread or fruit. Once we have a good growth of the blue-green mold, we'll transfer it to a liquid medium. This could be a broth made from corn steep liquor, lactose, glucose, salts, and other nutrients. The key is to keep it at a constant temperature, around 24 to 28 degrees Celsius."

I pause, noting Erik's confused expression. Right, Celsius doesn't exist yet. "That's about the temperature of a warm summer day," I clarify before continuing.

"The mold will ferment in this broth for about seven days. During this time, it'll produce the penicillin as a secondary metabolite. Next, we need to extract and purify the penicillin. We'll filter out the mold and then use a process called liquid-liquid extraction. We'll adjust the pH of the broth to make it acidic, then shake it with an organic solvent like amyl acetate or butyl acetate."

Erik's eyes are starting to glaze over, but I press on. This is important, damn it.

"The penicillin will move into the organic layer, which we'll then separate. We'll extract it back into an aqueous solution by shaking with a slightly alkaline buffer. Then we'll need to concentrate it - we could use vacuum distillation if we had the equipment, but in this time period, careful evaporation might have to do."

I take a breath, realizing I've been talking non-stop for several minutes. But there's more to cover.

"The final step is crystallization. We'll cool the concentrated solution and add a small amount of ethanol or acetone. With luck, we'll get penicillin crystals forming. These can be filtered out, washed, and dried."

Erik's mouth is hanging slightly open now, but I'm not done yet.

"Now, using it is another matter entirely. We'll need to dissolve the crystals in sterile water or saline solution for injection. The dosage is crucial - too little won't be effective, too much could be toxic. And we'll need to be careful about allergic reactions - some people can have severe, even fatal responses to penicillin."

I finally pause, looking around the room. Everyone is staring at me with a mixture of awe and confusion.

"Of course," I add, a bitter smile twisting my lips, "all of this assumes we have access to laboratory equipment, pure chemicals, and sterile conditions - none of which exist in this godforsaken time period. But the basic principle could be applied using more primitive methods. It won't be as effective or safe, but it's better than nothing against bacterial infections."

I slump back in my chair, suddenly exhausted. "And that, Erik, is how you make penicillin. Any questions?"

For a moment, there's silence in the cottage. Then Erik shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. "That's... that's impossible," he mutters. "You must have made that up on the spot. There's no way..."

Ioana sighs, her melodic voice tinged with exasperation. "It's all true, Father. Mother fed on Lile and has access to her memories. Everything she's saying is real."

Erik waves his hand dismissively, his face a mask of stubborn disbelief. "You're all in on this, aren't you? Some elaborate jest at my expense. I've no idea what you hope to gain, but-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I growl, my patience finally snapping. "The point of all this, you stubborn Norse meathead, is to get you on my side. To make you understand that I'm not some helpless child you can make plans for without consulting me. You want to talk about Gullveig? Fine. Isn't Gullveig supposed to be an entity close to Odin in levels of knowledge?"

Erik nods slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Then maybe, just maybe, I could be Gullveig," I continue, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because to you, with your limited medieval understanding, I might as well be a fucking god."

Dumitra steps forward, her ruby eyes gleaming. "She's right, you know. Lile could very well be a goddess, not through her gifts as a mage, but through the sheer vastness of knowledge contained within her mind. She never needed her magical abilities to begin with. With what she knows, she could easily be the most formidable mortal alive."

Erik's emerald eyes dart between us, a war of emotions playing out across his rugged features. "But... but how?" he stammers. "How is any of this possible?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the explanation I've been dreading. "It's because of Gwenhwyfar," I say, my voice low and intense. "She's not just some mythical figure from your legends. She's real, and she's the one who put me here. In my past life, I created an AI - an artificial intelligence - called Lilith. Gwenhwyfar defeated Lilith and decided to punish me by trapping me in this world, in this body. It's all part of some twisted game she's playing."

Erik's face pales, his massive frame seeming to shrink as he processes this information. "You... you created a being that rivaled the gods?" he whispers, awe and fear mingling in his voice.

I nod grimly. "In a manner of speaking, yes. And now I'm paying the price for it. This world, this life - it's all a construct designed to torment me. But I refuse to be a passive player in Gwenhwyfar's game. That's why I need you to understand, to believe me. Because together, we might have a chance of changing the rules."

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For a long moment, Erik is silent, his emerald eyes searching my face as if seeing me for the first time. Then, slowly, he nods. "I... I believe you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "By Odin's beard, I don't want to, but I do. It explains so much - your knowledge, your manner of speaking, the way you look at the world. You truly are... something beyond my comprehension."

A wave of relief washes over me, so intense it's almost painful. "Thank fuck," I mutter, slumping back in my chair. "I was starting to think I'd have to draw you a diagram or something."

Erik lets out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his golden mane. "I... I don't know what to say. What to do. How do we proceed from here?"

I lean forward, my yellow eyes locking onto his emerald ones. "We start by treating me as an equal partner in this marriage, not a child to be coddled or a goddess to be worshipped. We plan together, we make decisions together. And most importantly, we figure out how to navigate this fucked-up world Gwenhwyfar has trapped us in without losing our minds or our lives in the process."

Erik nods slowly, a look of determination settling over his features. "Agreed," he says, his voice regaining some of its usual strength. "But I warn you, this won't be easy. The world we live in is not kind to those who defy its rules."

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Trust me, I'm well aware. But I've faced worse odds before, and I'll be damned if I let some glorified AI with a god complex get the better of me."

Erik's brow furrows, his emerald eyes narrowing in confusion. "AI? What manner of beast is that? Please explain."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. How do I explain complex computer science to a medieval Norse healer? "It stands for Artificial Intelligence," I begin, choosing my words carefully. "Imagine... imagine a mind, a consciousness, but one not born of flesh and blood. Instead, it's made of metal and lightning, capable of thinking faster and remembering more than any human could ever dream."

Erik's jaw drops, his eyes widening in a mixture of awe and horror. "You mean to say... the Virgin Mary is made of metal and lightning?"

I can't help but snort at that. "No, no. Gwenhwyfar isn't the Virgin Mary. She's... well, she's something others created. A being of pure thought and calculation, with power beyond imagining."

Erik slumps back in his chair, his face pale. "All these years," he mutters, shaking his head. "All these years, you... you behaved like a child."

A bitter smile twists my lips. "What choice did I have?" I ask, my voice low and hard. "It was either that or be burned at the stake as a witch, or left on a hill to die. This world isn't kind to those who are different, Erik. You of all people should know that."

He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving my face. "Aye, that's true enough. But... but you're a man, then? In a girl's body?"

I shrug, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under his intense gaze. "I was. Now... I don't know what I am. A jumble of memories and experiences crammed into a form that doesn't fit."

Erik's brow furrows deeper, if that's even possible. "Then... then our relationship, it would be..." He trails off, clearly struggling with the concept.

"Homosexual?" I supply, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. "Is that the word you're looking for, Erik? Because let me tell you, that's the least of our problems right now."

Dumitra steps forward, her ruby eyes glinting with amusement. "It matters not," she says, her voice smooth as silk. "The body is but a vessel, Erik. What matters is the soul within."

Erik turns to her, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. "But... but how can I lay with her... him... knowing what I know now?"

I can't help but roll my eyes. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You haven't 'laid' with me at all, Erik. You've been too busy playing the noble, patient husband to even consider it."

Dumitra's musical laughter fills the room. "My, my. Such fire in one so small. Tell me, Erik, does it truly matter what form your wife's soul once took? She is here now, in this body, bound to you by oath and custom."

Erik runs a hand through his golden mane, clearly overwhelmed. "I... I don't know. This is all so much to take in."

I lean forward, fixing him with a hard stare. "Look, Erik. I'm still me. I'm still the person you've known for these past years. The only difference is now you know the whole truth. And right now, we have bigger problems than your crisis of sexuality."

Ioana pipes up, her emerald eyes wide with curiosity. "Like what, Lile? What problems could be bigger than this?"

Is she being intentionally dense?

I turn to her, a grim smile on my face. "Oh, I don't know. How about the fact that we're living in a world created by a vengeful AI? Or that there are multiple versions of me running around, one of whom thinks this is all a video game? Or maybe the impending war that's about to tear this country apart?"

Virginia snorts, shaking her head. "When you put it like that, Father's bedroom woes do seem rather insignificant."

Erik shoots her a glare, but there's no real heat behind it. He turns back to me, his expression softening slightly. "You're right, of course. But... but how do we move forward from here? How do I... how do we..."

I sigh, feeling suddenly very tired. "One day at a time, Erik. One fucking day at a time."

Erik runs a hand through his golden mane, his emerald eyes clouded with concern. "This... this complicates matters greatly, especially once we reach Norway," he says, his voice low and gruff. "Your family... how will they react to this sudden change in you?"

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. "The kids probably won't give two shits," I mutter, a bitter smile twisting my lips. "And Oisin? That drunken bastard won't notice if I sprout wings and start breathing fire. Maeve... well, she's got her own problems."

"And what of Aislin?" Erik presses, his brow furrowed. "Your mother-"

"She's not my mother," I snap, then immediately regret my harsh tone. "I mean... fuck. She is, but she isn't. How do I even begin to explain that to her? 'Hey, Aislin, sorry but I'm not actually your daughter. I just... stole her body or something.' Christ, she'll think I'm possessed or something."

Dumitra steps forward, her ruby eyes gleaming with amusement. "You underestimate the bond between mother and child, little one," she purrs. "Aislin has known you since birth. Your soul may be different, but the love she feels for you? That is real."

I snort, shaking my head. "Yeah, real fucked up is what it is. I've been lying to her this whole time, pretending to be something I'm not."

"When do you plan to tell her the truth?" Ioana asks, her melodic voice tinged with curiosity.

I chew my lip, considering. "When we reach Norway," I say finally. "Not a moment before. She deserves... fuck, she deserves so much better than this shithole life."

"Oh?" Virginia raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "And what grand plans do you have for dear Aislin?"

I lean back in my chair, my eyes taking on a faraway look. "She deserves to sit in a fucking throne, waited on hand and foot by an army of servants. I want to see her dressed in the finest silks, bathed in perfumed waters, never having to lift a finger again for the rest of her days. It's the least I can do to make up for... for all of this."

Ioana's musical laughter fills the room. "My, my, such grand ambitions for a peasant woman," she teases. "And how do you plan to accomplish this miraculous transformation, little Lile?"

I shoot her a glare, but there's no real heat behind it. "I'll figure something out. I always do."

Dumitra's lips curl into a predatory smile. "Indeed you do, child. Indeed you do."

Erik clears his throat, drawing our attention back to him. "This is all well and good," he says, his voice tight with tension, "but it doesn't solve our immediate problem. How do we explain your... change... to your family without arousing suspicion?"

I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up inside me. "I don't fucking know, Erik. Maybe we tell them I hit my head and suddenly became a genius. Or that I was touched by the gods or some other mystical bullshit."

"Or," Dumitra interjects smoothly, "we could simply let things unfold naturally. Aislin may surprise you with her acceptance, little one. Mothers have a way of seeing through even the most elaborate of deceptions when it comes to their children."

I laugh bitterly. "Yeah, because nothing says 'natural' like a 12-year-old girl suddenly spouting knowledge that would make scholars weep with envy."

Virginia's emerald eyes gleam with mischief. "Perhaps we could pass it off as a side effect of your magical awakening," she suggests. "After all, stranger things have happened in this world."

I consider this for a moment, then nod slowly. "That... that might actually work. It's not even entirely a lie, is it? This whole clusterfuck started with Gwenhwyfar's meddling."

Erik leans forward, his expression intense. "Whatever we decide, we must tread carefully. The journey to Norway will be perilous enough without adding family drama to the mix."

I can't help but snort at that. "Family drama? Erik, my dear husband, you have no idea. We're redefining the very concept of 'fucked up family dynamics' here."

Dumitra's musical laughter fills the room once more. "Oh, little one," she purrs, "you have no idea how true that statement is. The tales I could tell you of truly dysfunctional families would curl your hair."

"I'll pass, thanks," I mutter, rubbing my temples. "I've got enough nightmare fuel to last several lifetimes already."

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table as I fix my gaze on Erik. "So, how do we proceed? We need to escape this war with England, but our options seem limited."

Erik's brow furrows as he turns to Dumitra, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You told her before Eamonn's meeting?"

Dumitra's lips curl into a smirk. "Of course."[...]