Chapter 2 | Unreasonable Miracle

I woke up with the most massive headache I'd ever had. As my eyes peeled open, uncertainty clung to my senses like a stubborn fog, questioning whether I'd truly woken or merely stumbled into another layer of slumber. Above me stretched a wooden ceiling, with a sloping ascent that resembled the majestic arches of ancient Greek temples that I studied in my art history class.

The room was shrouded in an inky blackness, offering only faint outlines of furniture. The bed I lay on felt foreign, yielding to my weight with an unsettling softness. As I attempted to rise, a wave of nausea washed over me, forcing me to sink back down.

A pair of wide, startled eyes blinked back at me from the side of the bed. A tiny girl, no more than six, was staring at me. "Aaahh!" she shrieked, her voice a high-pitched squeak. "MOM! DAD! GRAND..."

More voices clamored into the room.

A tall man, his face etched with concern, approached the bed I was lying on. 

"Selma, start the fire!" he boomed, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. The woman swiftly moved to a fireplace nearby.

The lack of windows and flickering flames cast an eerie glow on the scene, fueling a strange sense of unease that gnawed at my insides. This wasn't my room, not my world. Panic clawed at my throat, its icy grip tightening with each passing second.

What time was it anyway?

Clocks. There were no clocks! Or anything remotely related to technology–only the crackling fire and the frantic whispers of the people around me. My eyes darted across the room, taking in the rough-hewn furniture, and the animal furs draped over chairs. 

Who were these people? 

"Who are you?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar. The question hung heavy in the air.

Before the man could respond, a woman with gentle eyes and a shock of blonde hair stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "You're alive!" she exclaimed, her touch on my head sending a soothing warmth through my aching skull.

"Oh, Allena! You gave us all quite a scare. Mother has been crying all night," said the man and enveloped me in a tight embrace.

Allena? Who was Allena? Confusion swirled within me, threatening to drown out reason. Blinding headaches probably caused hallucinations. I was about to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming.

"Mother?" The word escaped my lips before I could stop it. The man's confused expression mirrored the shock that washed over the room.

"What's happening? Is she awake??" Another tall man walked in and his voice sounded like a foghorn to me.

He was probably the other man's younger brother. They both had the same wavy sandy hair, average build, and a slightly turned-up nose.

"Say something, please," the older woman said pleadingly to me.

"W-where am I?" I asked. 

The actual question that was dying to come out of my mouth was about what year this was. Even the most remote corner of the Earth in the 21st century wouldn't be this devoid of modern amenities. 

"Holy shit! That head injury took her memory away," the younger brother muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

"Shut up, Devin!" The older brother snapped, his gaze hardening.

"Her next question is going to be, who the hell are you all?" Devin remarked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Do you remember anything about the fall?" Selma inquired, her voice low and steady. 

Fall? "No, I… I don't remember anything," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, you fell off your horse," Selma explained. "You were unconscious for days."

But I couldn't ride a horse! I tried once, and I was terrible.

"Iona said you were distracted when riding the horse," Devin added. "She was up by your side all night."

"Iona...?"

"Iona is your sister, Allena," Devin's words dripped with melancholy. "And I am your brother, Devin. This here is Aiden, your eldest brother," he gestured towards the towering figure beside him, then indicated Selma. "His wife."

"I am Boann, your mother, darling," the older woman's voice trembled with emotion as she clasped my hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Just then, a small whirlwind of red hair burst into the room.

"Allena!" she cried, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. "I was so worried!"

This must be Iona. Unlike her olive-skinned brothers, she had pale, translucent skin that contrasted beautifully with her fiery red hair.

"She doesn't remember a thing," Devin interjected, his voice laced with frustration. "Just been staring at us since she woke up."

Iona's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?" she pleaded, searching my face for any hint of recognition. The room felt like it was closing in on me. Aiden's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.

"You should try to get some rest. We'll wake you up when Father returns with the Druid."

Did I hear Druid? Weren't they those ancient Celtic people who practiced strange rituals? Panic clawed at my throat. Was I dreaming? In a coma? Dead and possessing someone else's body? Had I somehow really traveled back in time? The possibilities were terrifying.

As everyone began to leave, I couldn't help but voice the question gnawing at me. "Iona," I began hesitantly, "why was I distracted before falling off the horse?"

"You saw your... future husband," she said, her voice trailing off. 

"Future husband?" I echoed, completely bewildered.

"You saw him with someone else...um, his girlfriend actually. They were riding on their horses on the other side of the river when we were hunting for agates. He's coming to see you tomorrow with his family," she explained. "Father made a deal with them last week, and you haven't been happy about it."

"Why not?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

"Because you love someone else. His name is Neill, from our tribe. But..." she hesitated, "he doesn't love you back."

Great! When did someone ever love me back? Time travel, reincarnation... nothing can change that.

"He's a Roman," Iona continued, her earlier sadness replaced by a tinge of anger. "He and his family have been living on our lands for a year. They're powerful, and Father wants Roman citizenship in exchange for marrying you off to him."

"But if I love Neill," I insisted, desperate to understand the situation. "Why was I upset seeing my future husband with someone else?"

Iona shook her head, a puzzled expression etched on her face. "Honestly, I don't know. You just... broke down. Said you'd never have a passionate love story like theirs. Then, one minute you were crying and cursing Neill, the next you were unconscious on the ground."

A sudden realization struck me. "Do you have mirrors here?" I asked, unsure of what Allena looked like.

"Of course we do!" Iona exclaimed as if offended by the question. "You think we live in the stone age or what?"

I shrugged in response as she fetched a hand mirror. 

Fuck! What happened to my brown eyes and jet black hair? The girl who stared back at me had blue eyes, honey blonde hair, and pale olive skin. Her lips were bruised from the fall and her nose had a small gash. It was a sweet innocent face with eyes that were full of spunk. I liked her.

What was weird was the wound dressing on my head. It looked unusually modern and out of place in this rustic room.

"The Druid is here," Boann, my supposed mother's voice echoed through the walls.

The intensity of my headache doubled, pulsing in rhythm with the rising panic. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to hold on to some semblance of sanity in this bizarre new reality.