A blinding flash of light was all I could see, searing my vision.
"Remove your night vision goggles, damn Iraqis! Thomson, where are you? We got a man down here!"
As my officer started to bark at me, a shadow flew over me, and an RPG round landed right in front of me, lodged in the sand just a few inches away. For a second that seemed like an eternity, I stared at it, hoping that by some miracle it would not explode. But, as if to mock me, the moment I moved, fire and shrapnel tore through me, and then, nothing but darkness.
Drenched in sweat, I opened my eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted me—wooden planks mixed with stone supports. As I stood up to look around, the situation became even stranger; I felt no aftereffects of the devastating injuries I should have suffered.
The room I was in was small. Besides the floor and the lower half of the walls, which were made of a reddish stone, everything was made of dark wood. Not many objects were present. Near the bed, which I only now saw was stuffed with hay, stood a small wooden cabinet topped with a water basin and a small, rough doll.
There was a knock on the door, and after a few seconds, it slowly opened. A woman in her late twenties entered, her face a mask of worry.
"Elvit, why are you already up? Did I not tell you to stay in bed until your ember stopped acting up? ...Come, stay here and let me wash you."
The woman took a rough linen cloth she held in her hand, drenched it with the water on the cabinet, and started to gently wipe away the sweat I was covered in. I did not protest much; when I was stationed near the battlefield, it was not uncommon for me or my colleagues to wash the injuries of our patients. But something was not right. The woman in front of me looked at me with such worry on her face that it made the situation feel far from normal.
Even her appearance was strange. She had clear European features—even though she was tanned—dirty brown hair, and strange grey eyes. Yet, she was clothed in what seemed to me a long, heavy cloth with different natural patterns stitched into it. In a way, her outfit resembled the traditional clothing of the people of Mongolia.
Probably because I had not spoken until now, the woman grew even more worried. "Elvit, please talk to me. How are you feeling?"
Was she talking to me? Could she be mistaking me for someone else?
"Sorry, la... ugh—"
A strong headache hit me, worse than the time a flashbang detonated right in front of me. Foreign memories started to pour into my head: a small girl playing with her father, running around an old house, pirouetting with a doll in her hand and giggling. Going around what seemed to be a medieval village, looking around in wonder while clutching a big hand, scared to be left alone and getting lost in the wonders around her. Memories of falling in a small river and soaking to the bone. Memories of her mother—the person who was caring for me just now—praying near her bed for... me to come back to her.
What had happened to me? Am I hallucinating before my brain ceases to function? Am I in a coma, and my mind has started to wander off on its own?
How is this even possible? A few minutes ago, I was fighting a war against the Iraqis, and now I am in a child’s body in the Middle Ages. What is the meaning of this? Why?
As if sensing my panic, the woman hugged me tightly. "Do not worry, my little sheep, I am not angry with you. Please, just talk to me..."
Something hurt deep inside me, seeing how this woman was suffering. Whether it was the memories of this body or just my own guilt, I did not know, but nevertheless, I mustered my voice.
"Sorry, Mother. I was just lost. I had a nice dream and my mind was wandering."
Relieved that I had finally answered her, she gave me a kiss on the head and, after telling me to stay put, closed the door behind her.
As soon as she left the room, I used the water basin to splash some water on my face. The sensation was too real. Even with the new memories now sitting in my head confirming the strange situation, I was not entirely convinced. But the reflection of what should be my face was the definitive proof: long, pitch-black hair, the same grey eyes that had been looking at me with concern until not too long ago, and the innocent, round face of a little girl. It was a jarring contrast to the hardened soldier I used to be.
I plopped back on the bed, my hand caressing the strands of hay that were poking out of the mattress. I laid back down, bringing the heavy blanket over me.
Staring at the now-familiar ceiling, I began to wonder how my mother got the news of my death...
Did she cry? Of course she did... I hope she is not taking it too hard; it was me who wanted to enlist after college, anyway.
A new life, huh... From the memories I received, it seems I am in some region of Armenia during the Middle Ages. Well, it could have been worse. It seems at least I have a roof over my head and that I will not die of cold during the winter.
"Elvit, I brought you something to eat." Opening the door again, my new mother entered with a wooden tray in her hands. On top of it was a wooden bowl containing what seemed to be a soup with some vegetables and one small piece of meat.
Coming near me, she sat on the bed and told me to sit up. After that, she scooped the soup with a wooden spoon, blew on it to cool it a little bit, and fed me.
I found the whole thing really embarrassing, but she was so happy to feed me. She probably thought I was not going to make it. I think it is only normal for her to care so much.
Between spoonfuls of soup, she started to tell me about her day.
"I went to visit your father in his workshop," she said, offering me another bite. "He is so sorry he could not come to see you, but the mayor just placed a massive order for boiled leather helmets for the village militia. Since he is the only leathersmith left in town, all the work fell on him."
She wiped a drop of broth from my chin. "After that, I went to the small market near the square to buy these vegetables. Can you believe it? Even though the prices were increasing, they asked for a whopping two copper fairs for just five carrots! On my way back, I stopped by the small shrine of Jute, the goddess of justice and fairness, to pray for your recovery..."
Wait, what?
I had never heard of coins called fairs, or even a goddess called Jute. Was I not in Armenia? Where did I end up reincarnating?!
As soon as I was ready to bombard my mother with questions, she looked at me and smiled.
"I know you have questions, Elvit. You always have. Your little mind never stops working, eh?" She let out a soft laugh. "Now sleep. I will come back in a few hours for dinner, and if you are good and eat everything like you have done now, I will answer some questions."
She winked at me and delicately closed the door of the room behind her.