I take a deep breath, my words coming out in a rush. "I'm missing my cock and balls, I'm bleeding from my nethers every month like a stuck pig and crying myself to sleep from the sheer pain of it. And I'm eyeing men differently as if I'm seeing them sexually attractive. Oh, and I'm supposed to get pregnant with Erik's child so that I may safely make landfall in Norway and give birth to a boy. As if I could somehow choose to give birth to a boy."

My voice rises, becoming more frantic. "Let's not forget that I'm trapped in the body of a child in a world where women are treated like property. I've gone from being a respected human being to a helpless peasant girl who's expected to pop out babies and keep her mouth shut. And don't even get me started on the hygiene in this place. I'd kill for a hot shower and some goddamn toilet paper."

I'm on a roll now, my frustrations pouring out. "And let's talk about the food, shall we? Bland, tasteless gruel day in and day out. I'd give my left arm for a pizza or a cheeseburger. Hell, I'd settle for a fucking salad at this point. Anything that isn't boiled to within an inch of its life or crawling with maggots."

"Oh, and did I mention the constant fear of death? Disease, war, famine - it's like living in a never-ending episode of Game of Thrones, but without the dragons or the cool outfits. Every day is a struggle just to survive, and for what? So I can maybe, possibly, find a way to recreate modern technology in a world that still thinks the earth is flat?"

Ioana's face contorts with a mixture of confusion and concern. She raises her hand, her voice cutting through my tirade. "Enough, I've heard enough of your... Just. Stop."

I pause, my chest heaving as I catch my breath. Ioana's emerald eyes are wide with empathy, her voice soft as she continues. "I cannot begin to fathom the depth of your suffering, Lile. To be torn from all you've known, thrust into a world so alien and cruel... it must be a torment beyond measure."

Virginia, standing beside her sister, crosses her arms, her expression stern. "While your plight is indeed dire, wallowing in self-pity serves no purpose. You possess knowledge and power beyond the comprehension of most in this era. Surely you can find a way to turn your circumstances to your advantage."

I open my mouth to retort, but Virginia holds up a hand, silencing me. "I speak not from a place of judgment, but of pragmatism. You've survived thus far, have you not? Perhaps it's time to cease lamenting what you've lost and focus on what you might yet gain."

Dumitra, who has been watching this exchange with an unreadable expression, suddenly bursts into laughter. Her ruby eyes gleam with amusement as she regards me. "Oh, my dear child. You must have truly been a manchild in your past life to even say those words now."

She shakes her head, her laughter subsiding into a chuckle. "You had balls and a bigger dick in your past life, and I'm not talking literally. For all your knowledge and experience, you're acting like a petulant teenager throwing a tantrum because life isn't fair."

Dumitra's words sting, but I can't deny the truth in them. She continues, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, boo-hoo, you have to deal with menstruation and attraction to men. Welcome to womanhood, darling. At least you have the advantage of knowing what's happening to your body. Most girls in this time are terrified when they start bleeding, thinking they're dying."

She steps closer, her eyes boring into mine. "You're so busy complaining about what you've lost that you're blind to the opportunities in front of you. You have knowledge that could revolutionize this world, power that most can only dream of, and you're whining about the lack of pizza?"

Dumitra's lips curl into a smirk. "You know what? I think what you need is a reality check. Or as they might say in your time - a big ol' slice of humble pie."

I blink, startled by the modern phrase. Before I can stop myself, I burst out laughing. "Holy shit, did you just pull out a modern meme?"

Dumitra's smirk widens. "Perhaps I did. It seems some of your memories have rubbed off on me. But my point stands. It's time to grow up. You're not in Kansas anymore, Toto."

I can't help but laugh harder at that. The absurdity of a centuries-old vampire quoting The Wizard of Oz is just too much. Fuck, I'm old. As my laughter subsides, I wipe tears from my eyes.

She's right. I've been so caught up in my own misery that I've been missing the bigger picture. Sure, this world is a shitshow, but it's also an opportunity. I've got knowledge and power that could change everything. Maybe it's time I stopped bitching and started doing something about it.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I face Dumitra. The vampiress's ruby eyes gleam with amusement, and I can't help but feel like I'm about to step into the lion's den. But fuck it, I've faced worse. Probably.

"So, Dumitra," I begin, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "care to enlighten me on why you asked why I didn't tell Erik who I was? And while we're at it, how exactly do you think I can go about it without him laughing his Norse ass off?"

Dumitra's lips curl into a smirk. "Why, child, 'tis simple. Erik would believe you if you showed him something you can easily craft from your past life. Surely a man of science such as yourself can conjure up some marvel to convince him?"

I snort, rolling my eyes. "Oh yeah, because I've got a fucking 3D printer hidden in my skirts. News flash, vampire lady - I've already thrown my cunt at him more times than I can count, trying to get knocked up so we can get the hell out of this soon-to-be warzone. But no dice. Erik's no pedophile, thank fuck, and he's stubborn as a mule and pious as a nun with a vibrator."

Ioana and Virginia exchange glances, their emerald eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement. Dumitra, however, doesn't miss a beat.

"And you believe that offering your... assets... would make him think you a scientist?" she asks, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching.

"No shit, Sherlock," I retort, crossing my arms. "But a 12-year-old suddenly acting like a horny adult should at least raise some eyebrows, right? Plus, there's the whole Gullveig thing. Erik thinks I'm supposed to be some reincarnated goddess or whatever, but he doesn't really buy it. The only reason he's even considering it is because I look like whatever poor sap they painted on their murals."

I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. "The real issue here is the pregnancy. If Erik shows up in Norway with a knocked-up kid claiming to be Gullveig, he's as good as dead. I need to make landfall there already heavy with child to fulfill this fucked-up prophecy. But if we stay in Ireland during the war, we're all dead anyway. And let's not forget the cherry on top of this shit sundae - I could die in childbirth if I pop one out at thirteen. But hey, Aislin gave birth to two dead kids at 12 and 13, then had me at fourteen! So I've got great odds, right?"

Dumitra sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I see. Well then, it seems I shall have to be the one to convince Erik of your true nature."

I can't help but grin, though it's more a baring of teeth than anything resembling joy. "Good luck with that, Dracula. You're gonna need it."

I glance up at the sun, noting its position. "Shit, I need to get back to Erik. We've got that meeting with Eamonn in the village. God knows what that pompous ass wants to announce. Probably that the war's started or some other horrible shit."

Dumitra's expression turns grim. "That is precisely what he will announce, child."

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"Fan-fucking-tastic," I groan, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "So I'm already out of time, out of options, and we've got some Elizabeth Bathory wannabe coming to drink us all dry. Any other good news you want to share? Maybe the plague's making a comeback?"

Dumitra's eyes light up suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashing across her face. "Perhaps... perhaps there is another way. What if you were to live in a different village in Norway until you mature enough to go to Kattegat with child?"

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Nice try, but that won't work. People in Norway would recognize Erik in a heartbeat. He's Ragnar's son, for fuck's sake. It'd be like trying to hide a celebrity in a small town."

Dumitra taps her chin thoughtfully. "Then perhaps Francia would be a more suitable refuge. 'Tis close to Ireland, after all."

I open my mouth to argue, but pause. It's not the worst idea I've heard today. Which, given the circumstances, isn't saying much. "Francia, huh? I guess it beats getting torn apart by English soldiers or vampire minions. But how the hell are we supposed to get there? I don't exactly have a private jet at my disposal."

Dumitra waves a dismissive hand. "Leave the details to me, child. I have... connections that can make such a journey possible."

I eye her suspiciously. "Connections? Let me guess, a network of friendly neighborhood vampires who run an underground railroad for time-displaced scientists and their Norse husbands?"

The vampiress laughs, the sound like tinkling glass. "Something like that. Now, we should return you to Erik's cottage. I did promise to bring you back before afternoon, after all."

As we walk along the path back to Erik's cottage, my hand absently reaches for the Trudakshi bauble hanging around my neck. The weight of it suddenly feels heavier, more ominous. I glance down at it, a nagging thought tugging at the back of my mind.

"Hey, Dumitra," I say, my voice casual despite the growing unease in my gut, "what exactly is this bauble made of?"

Dumitra's ruby eyes flick towards me, her expression maddeningly nonchalant. "Why, 'tis silverstone, child. The bauble is meant to cancel out the magic of non-awakened individuals."

My brain screeches to a halt, the words 'silverstone' and 'radioactive' flashing like neon signs in my mind. Without a second thought, I yank the bauble off my neck and hurl it away from me, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I screech, my voice hitting a pitch that would make dogs wince. "I've had radioactive material hanging around my neck this entire time?!"

Ioana and Virginia exchange worried glances, but Dumitra remains infuriatingly calm. I take a deep breath, trying to slow my racing thoughts. Something doesn't add up.

"Wait a minute," I say, narrowing my eyes at Dumitra. "If this thing is supposed to cancel out magic, why didn't it stop my powers from activating when I awakened?"

Dumitra bends down to retrieve the discarded bauble, holding it up to the light. "Ah, you misunderstand, child. There's but a small amount of silverstone within. It's not meant to cancel out magic entirely - rather, it's used to recharge magical tools."

I feel the blood drain from my face, my finger trembling as I point at the innocuous-looking bauble. "That... that thing might have shortened my lifespan in the months that I've been wearing it already."

Fuck me. I've survived alien invasions, the collapse of civilization, and being reincarnated as a medieval peasant girl, only to potentially get done in by a magical radioactive necklace.

I let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "How would you even know if the bauble was 'full'?"

Dumitra shakes the bauble gently, and I hear a faint sound coming from inside, like a small ball rattling against the walls. "It's not full yet," she explains. "When it no longer makes a sound, that's when you know it's reached capacity."

My scientific mind kicks into overdrive, trying to make sense of this magical bullshit. "So, let me get this straight," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "The bauble is basically a casing for a small piece of silverstone that's supposed to get bigger inside?"

Dumitra nods, and I feel a headache building behind my eyes. I snatch the bauble from her hands, turning it over in my fingers. "Christ, I hope this casing is made of lead. But even then, the concept that a mineral can expand by absorbing... what? My psychokinetic emanations?"

The implications are staggering. If this silverstone can absorb and store psychokinetic energy, the potential applications are mind-boggling. But the risks... I suppress a shudder, remembering the horrors of radiation poisoning from my past life.

"This is some next-level fuckery," I mutter, glaring at the innocent-looking bauble. "I've been wearing a mini nuclear reactor around my neck for months."

I hand the bauble back to Dumitra. "Here, take this back. Do I even need to wear it anymore?"

Dumitra shakes her head, her ruby eyes gleaming with amusement. "No, child. Awakened individuals no longer emanate magic that attracts monsters or creatures."

"Hold on a second," I say, a thought striking me. "If awakened people don't need these, how are the witch hunters recharging their magical tools? Are they just running around looking for unawakened schmucks to slap these baubles on?"

Dumitra's lips curl into a smirk. "Think, child. What does every villager wear around their neck?"

I furrow my brow, trying to recall. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. "The crosses. You've got to be shitting me."

"I assure you, I am not... 'shitting you,'" Dumitra replies, her voice dripping with amusement.

"So you're telling me everyone in the village is unawakened?" I ask, my mind reeling.

Dumitra shakes her head. "No, but the crosses can still fill up over time, even if the wearer has no magical powers. It simply takes longer."

I remember how Father Timothy replaces everyone's crosses every three months. It's like a twisted version of Trick or Treat, except instead of candy, he's handing out mini Chernobyls.

"These idiots are poisoning everyone," I growl. "When I get home, I'm chucking that thing into the deepest pit I can find."

A thought occurs to me. "Wait, if the crosses are supposed to 'diminish' the emanations that attract monsters, why wasn't my silver cross doing its job?"

"The crosses contain an even smaller quantity of silverstone than the bauble you were given," Dumitra explains. "Just enough to slowly accumulate energy, but not enough to fully suppress a potential mage's emanations."

"So if someone wasn't wearing that cross, they'd be a monster magnet?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

Dumitra nods. "Indeed, though not to the extent that you were."

The pieces start falling into place in my mind. "Oh my god. I understand now!"

"What?" Dumitra asks, raising an eyebrow.

"When a village is attacked by things like goblins, it means there's an unawakened individual living there," I explain, the words tumbling out in a rush. "The cross isn't enough to diminish their emanations. That's how the Witch Hunters find problematic individuals - they either kill them or ship them off to the Tuatha De Danann for instruction."

Dumitra's eyes gleam with approval. "Very good, child. You are correct. This is indeed how the Tuatha De Danann finds new members."

A chill runs down my spine. "But that means they know about me."

"They do," Dumitra confirms. "I told them about you myself and informed the priests that I would be handling your case personally."

So I'm on some medieval magical watchlist. "How do they recharge their magical tools?" I ask, morbidly curious.

"They simply take the bauble or cross and tap it repeatedly against the tool," Dumitra explains. "That is all."

They're basically using people as living batteries, like some twisted version of The Matrix. Except instead of machines, it's a bunch of religious zealots with a hard-on for burning witches.

"This place is creepy as fuck," I mutter, shaking my head.

Virginia, who's been silent until now, pipes up. "You think so?"

"Yes, I do," I reply, my voice flat.

Virginia's emerald eyes narrow. "Then how would you change it? There aren't many mages around, and only witch hunters with their magical tools can protect villages. The tools are easier to make than combat-ready mages."

I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. "I don't know, alright? The solution isn't simple."

"Then shut up," Virginia snaps. "The system works properly. Each village is assigned a witch hunter squad, and the village provides energy to the witch hunters' magical tools. It's a symbiotic relationship."

I can't help but scoff at Virginia's simplistic view of this fucked-up system. "Yes, however, if these crosses are slowly poisoning people, alongside the issues they have with hygiene, diseases, famine, then they would die even quicker than they are now."

Dumitra's ruby eyes fix on me, a hint of curiosity in their depths. "Why do you think that marriage is supported for girls that have just flowered?"

Where do I even begin with that clusterfuck of a question? It's like asking why water is wet or why the sky is blue. And let's not forget the lovely bonus of keeping the female population under control. Can't have those pesky women getting ideas above their station, now can we?

Ioana's melodic voice cuts through my internal rant. "Nobody is saying to the man that they have to sleep with the girl, but they aren't being punished for it unless they are caught. You understand what this means, right?"

Oh, I understand all too fucking well. It's legalized pedophilia, plain and simple. All in the name of survival, of course. Because nothing says 'preserving the human race' quite like traumatizing children and destroying their bodies before they've even had a chance to fully develop. It's enough to make me want to vomit.

"The girls would probably die in childbirth alongside the babies they would give birth to," I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "Look at Aislin. She gave birth to two dead babies before me, and to be quite honest, I'm shocked she gave birth to two more. Atlas a few years ago and Larisa a year ago. The woman is a monster."[...]