“I don’t fucking care that you killed a little piggy. I still don’t trust you enough to let you loose among our villagers”. Birgitta said and flicked Hanna’s forehead.

Hanna gave her the stink-eye. “What now then? Do you have any more crash courses to put me through?”

“Why would I? I’ve taught you how to use a sword and a spear. You’re already better than most of the little shits in the village. What more could you possible want?”

Hanna scoffed at that. “I want what every girl my age wants: strong alcohol and a pair of firm buttocks to squeeze.”

Birgitta burst out laughing. It didn’t happen very often. The older woman patted her shoulder in a rare moment of camaraderie. “I hear you lass. I hear you. But you’re gonna have to toughen it out”

Hanna sighed. Back in the woods by the swamp she had realized something. She absolutely loved battle. It wasn’t about using weapons. Practicing the spear with Anders could be a proper snoozefest. What she loved was that moment where if you lived or not wasn’t dependent on the mercy of your opponent. Where surviving meant being quick enough not to be gutted by a giant tusk before you returned the favour. She had barely had any time to experience it. A couple of times with the boars and that time with the pig-otter in the valley were not enough to quench her thirst. She wanted more of it. Staying cooped up in this bunker was not the way to get it. Plus, she wasn’t exactly lying to Birgitta earlier. She really wanted a drink, and she had honestly spent way too much time in a Viking village without sampling the local talent.

Birgitta didn’t change her mind though, no matter how much Hanna pleaded. For a while she considered just leaving, but despite her recent improvements with the sword and spear, she didn’t think much of her chances against a pissed-off Birgitta. So she did as she was told and toughened it out. Two days of constant work-outs and sparring went by before Gunnar swooped in like a godsend. Hanna had more or less forgotten it by now, but she had promised to spend time with him regularly, helping him improve the technology of the village. Birgitta tried to stop her from leaving at first, but Gunnar surprised her by giving the older woman a stern talking to. Apparently he wasn’t all kindness and understanding. It was probably a question of finding the right motivation. Judging from the conversation they had as they walked back to the village, he was pretty eager to see her. He barely paused for air between his questions, and every explanation from her was instantly followed by more hows and whys. It reminded her of a kid with a parent, bursting with curiosity over seemingly trivial things.

The first thing that struck her as they entered the village was that it looked a lot cleaner. Most of the mud that used to be ever-present was gone, replaced by somewhat neat cobblestone roads. The villagers seemed to have been hard at work in her absence, they had even managed to dig a shallow well close to the creek at the edge of the valley. It was lined with a layer of stone, and a small wall stuck up above ground, exactly as she had specified. On top of it was a small roof, protecting it from stuff that might fall into it. They had tied a rope to a bucket that they used to bring the water up. None of the villagers seemed to be using it though. It would probably take a while for old habits to change.

The sawmill hadn’t gotten as far. They had cleared an area and was laying the foundations, but the task of transferring the power of the water into the sawmill had proven too much for the local craftsman. They had at least chosen a good spot for the sawmill. It was maybe too close to the rest of the village, something that might cause numerous complaints of noise, but the creek ran particularly deep right next to it and they had even begun deepening it further and fortifying its sides.

The one who was tasked with the machinery for the sawmill was a middle-aged woman on the shorter side, whom was too occupied with her tinkering to look up when Gunnar introduced her. Eventually she tossed away the cogwheel she was working on and came over to them, navigating the numerous piles of half-finished projects and various tools.

“So you’re the freak” she said. Hanna narrowed her eyes at her, trying to judge if she was an asshole or just not very good with people.

“This is Hanna, or newest and much valued addition to our village”, Gunnar corrected the woman.

“Sure”, she said, making no attempt to smooth things over. “I’m Gunn by the way”.

Hanna gave her a wave. “Nice to meet you”. She didn’t mean it.

Gunnar quickly tried to make peace by asking her to show the current state of the machinery. The work was actually quite far along, the main problems was that they were unable to transfer the power of the water into the horizontal motion in the saw, and that the wood would get very hot as it spun in its fittings. Gunn gave Hanna a sceptical look when she proposed that they should use a round saw instead. She hadn’t thought about it, but round saws were probably a completely bizarre thing if you only operated saws by hand. Gunn mellowed to the idea once Hanna had talked her through the concept, but claimed that it would be quite challenging to produce a saw that was flat enough.

The heat problem could probably be avoided by using ball bearings, but that was for obvious reasons out of the picture. After some back and forth they decided to try layering both the rotating wood and it’s fitting with metal, and generous amounts of animal fat in between. Gunn was exited to discuss the technicalities, but it was as if every idea or concept that Hanna explained to Gunn only worsened the woman’s opinion of her. She probably didn’t like being taught by a snotty kid, or maybe she just didn’t enjoy others stealing her thunder.

When the problems were dealt with and Gunnar wanted to move on, Hanna got an idea. Swords and spear might work close-up, but she really missed her rifle. She had no illusions of getting one, at least not in a long while. But the various pieces of ongoing projects that littered Gunn’s workshop had brought a compromise to her mind. When Hanna asked Gunn if she had heard of a crossbow, she wasn’t surprised by her negative answer. It didn’t take her long to convince Gunn of its benefits compared to a bow, and the two of them were soon completely engrossed with drawing up the designs. Gunnar was quick to join them, and when he understood what the end goal was he was ecstatic enough that he was practically giggling.

The day was pretty much gone when they eventually left the workshop. The crossbow that they had drawn up had a solid, wooden stock in a length comparable to her old rifle, and an absolutely huge piece of metal acting as the bow. Gunn had objected that it would be too heavy to pull, but that problem had been solved with a smart application of a lever that Gunnar had come up with. Gunn had continued her objections stating that it would still need a great amount of strength to operate it, but Hanna had quickly shut her up by casually lifting a nearby anvil. They still needed to figure out the triggering mechanism though, but the various concepts that Hanna had explained in an attempt to solve it made Gunn confident that she could figure it out on her own.

All in all it had been a good day, even though Hanna still hadn’t managed to make her way over to the alehouse. As luck would have it, Gunnar solved that problem for her once again, suggesting they celebrate their progress with some drinks. When they entered the dimly lit interiors of the alehouse, they immediately drew the attention of all the patrons. The lively atmosphere that had been there when they arrived quickly died down as people turned in their chairs to get a look at them. None of them looked happy to see her, and Hanna heard quite a few curses directed at her. This rock star status of her would be a lot easier to swallow if it only would bring some benefits. As it was now, people she had never met before practically spat upon seeing her.

Ignoring the stares, they made their way over to a table. A few of the people surrounding their table moved elsewhere when they sat down. Hanna resolved to ignore it for the moment, but she was growing dead tired of the way she was treated by the villagers. Gunnar looked apologetic enough, but if the villagers’ attitude didn’t change soon she wasn’t planning on sticking around.

“Don’t judge them to harshly”, Gunnar said.

“Why not? They aren’t exactly meeting me halfway”

“Outsiders in general only show up in order to kill and rob. And you have to admit that the way you appeared out of nowhere in the valley does nothing to help your case.”

Hanna scoffed. “That is small comfort when you are being spat at”.

Gunnar nodded at her words. “Just give them time to change. They’ll come around”. He stood up. “A drink might help?” He suggested.

“Better make it a double, old man!” She shouted after him when he was halfway over to the bar. Hanna didn’t know what to do about the villagers’ treatment of her. As it was now, conflict was more or less given every time she visited the village. She didn’t care enough to launch some sort of good-publicity campaign, but if things stayed as they were she would have to look for some other place to call home. And the little she had seen since she woke up in the valley had made it painfully clear that a lot was different from what she would considered normal.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It felt silly following that train of thought, which was the main reason she had avoided thinking about it too much. There really were only two explanations: either the world that she knew had changed beyond recognition, or she was no longer in the world that she grew up in. Both cases meant that she knew absolutely nothing of what to expect outside of the village’s boarders. The prospect of striking out into that great unknown felt exiting, a chance at adventure that was completely unavailable in the civilized world that she had lived in before the gap. But leaving the village behind also completely removed the comforts and relative safety she had found here. A good night’s sleep would be a lot rarer if you were striking out on your own in a wilderness capable of producing creatures like the pig-otter or the uniboars.

Gunnar’s return to her table brought her out of her musings. He was unsteadily balancing four large mugs, spilling a little with every step. She generously helped the old man by taking two of the mugs from him. Hanna was halfway through one of them before he had sat down again.

Gunnar grabbed one of the mugs and held it up in the air. “To gradual change!”

Hanna’s mug was still attached to her mouth, but she grunted in agreement.

Her original plan had been to ditch the old man at first opportunity, but he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, so she felt rather bad about it. She kept an eye open in case Rune was around, but the alehouse was manned by the gruff man she had met at her last visit, and Rune was nowhere to be seen. A shame really, he was on the very top of her list of locals to sample. Hanna sighed. At least there was plenty to drink. Gunnar seemed to be in a splurging mood and kept the drinks coming. They had even gotten around to dinner when Birgitta strolled up to their table.

“Time’s up kiddo.”

“Come join us Birgitta”, Gunnar offered cheerfully. He was well beyond tipsy.

Birgitta gave him a disapproving look. “I heard Karin was looking for you”

Gunnar slumped down and breathed out heavily. “Oh well. I guess it’s getting rather late.”

Birgitta snorted and turned towards Hanna. “Were going back to the mountain. It’s time for you to actually contribute for once”.

The walk back to the bunker was peaceful enough. Hanna was a bit unsteady until the cool air and her kick-ass liver sobered her up. People they met still gave her odd looks, but as long as they didn’t gather up with torches and pitchforks, she counted that as a win.

When they finally got back to the lounge, which was what Hanna had dubbed the room with the fireplace and the tables, she was surprised to see that it was a bit more crowded than she was used to. Most of the faces felt familiar, probably from that one time that Birgitta introduced her to the Regulars, but Hanna wasn’t certain. She had never been good with faces. Or names. Random Wikipedia articles though, that shit stuck like glue.

“You guys probably remember our most recent addition”, Birgitta said once she had the attention of the room. “I’ve thought her the sword for a bit, and she spent some time camping with Anders. She isn’t entirely worthless, and I think it’s high time we put her to the test!”

Some of the guys in the room cheered. Anders wasn’t there, but if he was he would have frowned at their light-hearted jolliness.

“You guys know the drill. We leave tomorrow at first light, and I want you packed, shat, and with a fucking spring in your step. Stragglers will be strangled.”

Hanna chuckled. Birgitta shot her a murderous glare, instantly killing her mirth. Nobody left the room when Birgitta was finished. The mood had a meet-and-greet kind of vibe to it, with people standing around needlessly, trying to initiate eye-contact. It was reasonable that they were curious about the new member. Wanting to get to know her better was probably smart, at least since they would be heading out together tomorrow. Hanna just didn’t feel very excited about it. She had been called self-centred once or twice in her life, and she wasn’t delusional enough to deny that it probably held some merit. But the main problem was that interacting with people exhausted her, and in most cases the returns simply wasn’t worth the costs. Hanna knew some great people, but most guys just wasn’t very interesting.

Her usual approach for getting to know people that didn’t look interesting was to not force it. If it happened it happened, or it was their loss. That might not cut it this time. Hanna honestly had no clue what to expect of tomorrow, but she’d be foolish if she didn’t consider combat at least a remote possibility. And she would be an even bigger fool if she made that assumption and still couldn’t be bothered to get to know the people who might save her ass if things went south.

Mentally cracking her neck, she walked up to the ring four people that were eying her cautiously.

“Sup?”

The group exchanged a few glances, so Hanna took her time to look them over. Two women, two men, all of them looking thirtyish and utterly generic. About the height you’d expect for each gender and the same kind of brown hair that seemed to be the main colour in the village. They even wore the same kind of leather armour that Björn and Olof had worn, probably something every combatant in the village had. Remembering their names was going to be impossible.

“Nice to finally meet you”, one of the women said. Hanna was trying really hard to give her a defining feature. If she squinted her eyes and exaggerated, the woman had slightly large front-teeth. Hanna couldn’t afford to be picky. Miss Bucky Tooth it is.

“I’m Eva”, Bucky Tooth said. Sure you are, Hanna thought and nodded.

The guy next to her picked up the torch. “My name is Karl”. Hanna turned a budding laugh into a smile, thinking of that undead show. Coral.

“I’m Leif”, said the second guy and smiled like you do to the cashier when you wait for the card-machine to finish. Hanna couldn’t think of a fitting nickname, so he was cashier-guy know. It honestly was the best she could do. This really wasn’t her forte, but then again, not thinking of hurtful nicknames and instead actually focusing on the conversation might make things easier.

“And my name is Gudrun”, said the last woman. Hanna scanned her top to bottom, searching for anything easy to remember. No luck, name pending.

“So how long have you guys been with the Regulars?” Hanna asked.

“A few years”, Gudrun answered.

“We were the new guys until you came along”, Cashier-guy filled in and was instantly elbowed by Coral.

“Don’t tell her that!”

“Why not, man? I think it’s pretty obvious that we aren’t really cut from the same cloth as Birgitta or Anders.” Hanna agreed but didn’t say it.

“Maybe you aren’t”, Coral said.

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder and looked him sympathetically in the eye. “Karl, you really aren’t”. Ouch.

Karl shrugged her arm off with a hurt look.

“So what do you know about tomorrow?” Hanna asked in an attempt to stop their bickering.

“It’s nothing special, a normal run really”, cashier-guy said.

Gudrun frowned at him. “You know very well what Birgitta thinks about that..:”

“Every run is special”, Coral cut in with a crude parody of Birgitta’s voice. Gudrun groaned.

“We will head over to the ruins to barter a bit with the guys over there”, Bucky clarified.

Hanna raised her eyebrows. It was the first time she had heard anything about other settlements than the village.

“Is it like a village over there or what?”

“Not really, no.” Bucky said.

“They are a weird bunch. They live underground in the ruins, trying to learn from what’s left behind by the ancients”, cashier-guy clarified. “Not very keen farmers”

“The ancients?” Hanna had to ask. Things were starting to sound like an episode of Stargate.

The whole group gave her an odd look.

“You don’t know about the ancients, love? The ones who built the many ruins around us?” Bucky asked with a pitying tone.

Hanna scratched the back of her head. Apparently not everyone had heard of how she got here. That was probably good, she was considered weird enough as it was.

“Oh, you mean the Ancients!” No, I totally know about them.” She tried. It was unclear if the group bought her lie, but they just nodded and didn’t press the matter. Hanna decided it was time to cut her losses.

“Well, it was fun meeting you, but I think I need to get to bed early. First run and all.”

They wished her a good night and she retreated to her room. It was probably a good thing that she did. Her entire time in the army had been plagued by her tendency to skip out on item preparation. Hanna was quite sure that tendency of hers hadn’t changed just because the rest of the world had.

She did a quick inventory of her possessions, sorting them on her bed. A water skin, a thick blanket, some clothing, a whetstone that Anders gave her, some fire steel, a small hatchet, a tiny knife and her sword. She had her spear as well of course, but it was far too big to end up on the bed. Hanna stashed her bag the same way that she used to do in the army, items that you fetched often or that you fetched in a panic was put at the top. The rest could fit wherever.

Her boots were fattened with obscene amounts of the same kind of animal fat that would soon lubricate the sawmill. They wouldn’t be taking in water unless she waded through a lake or something. Hanna hadn’t been particularly bothered by the weather so far, but she probably ought to get herself a proper jacket, or whatever equivalent they used around here. All in all, Hanna actually felt pretty prepared. She wouldn’t mind having some armour or a shield, but then again, that’s what supernatural healing was for, right?

Since she woke up in the valley, Hanna had raked in new experiences, time and time again having to handle scenarios that simply wouldn’t happen to your average first-world-citizen. Whether she felt prepared or not, tomorrow she would be heading far outside the village, something that might very well include a good deal of danger. In itself, that wouldn’t be terrible different from fighting the uniboars with Anders. But the danger that she had experienced so far had largely happened to her, not because of her. Sure, she was the one who provoked the fights, not the uniboars, but they were aggressive, territorial monsters. Tomorrow she would head out with a group of trained warriors, and if the situation required it, people would expect of her to not hesitate before she skewered another human being.

Hanna wasn’t sure she was ready for that. She had always known that she wasn’t very empathic, perhaps even bordering on some kind of psychopathic spectrum. How much she would be bothered by purposely harming another person was something she had thought about her whole life, simply because she feared the answer was “not at all”.

Hanna spent a large part of the night without sleep, her subconscious drifting from memory to memory, trying to find an answer to her fears. But this is something that no amount of speculation can bring certainty to. It is something that you simply cannot know, until you suddenly know. And not all answers in life are equal. Some answers have a profound impact, creating a former you, a future you, and then the answer, smack dab in the middle of the two.

Chances were that tomorrow would simply be a casual stroll to another settlement. In case it wasn’t, tomorrow would be a day of answers that Hanna didn’t know if she was prepared to meet.