Greenland, 15th century

Time becomes unimportant as I follow the natural rhythm of the beast that possesses my body. Days or weeks may have passed, but an animal doesn't keep track of such numbers. I hunt with bared fangs and extended claws during the light hours and I sleep in human skin in the darkness. My dreams are plagued with urges of the beast: to crush bones and watch blood drip onto white fur, but the carnage is colored by the guilt of a man.

Sometimes, I see him. My father. I dream of digging my teeth into his throat. I don't feel guilty about those dreams.

I wish I was no longer a man. To forever walk in the skin of a bear would be so much easier. Because does it really matter who I am when no one sees me? It only adds to my agony to regain human logic and pain for a few dark hours.

This morning, just like the countless days or weeks that have passed of this existence, I exit the cave and feel my body change. It's an empowering feeling that I relish. I become stronger and wilder. I respond to stimuli I barely recognize; the smallest sound makes my ear twitch and the faintest movement is registered by my all-seeing eyes. The world appears different in the view of the predator: colors blur together into a mess but movement and heat stand out like stars in the night sky.

I no longer hurt in this form. I no longer love. I no longer dwell on the past. I only exist in the here and now. All traces of Björn gets pushed down beneath white fur.

For as long as daylight holds, I hunt for prey. Usually, I walk along the shoreline to find my prey. Seals are the easiest catch, as their rotund bodies move slowly on land. But I move quickly, snatching up my dinner before it can escape into the icy abyss. Sea birds and their eggs also make for tasty treats. The polar sea nourishes me and fills my belly to the brim most days. A bear needs to eat in the fall before it's time for hibernation. I look forward to the long slumber of forgetfulness.

But this day, the seals have vanished and the birds scatter before I can ascend on them. I prowl the waterline all day but as dusk begins to fall, I realize I need to find another source to feed me. Otherwise, hunger will plague me all night.

I know there's a stream where I can prowl for fish on my way back to the cave. Hopefully, I will be able to catch something before darkness fall and I'm trapped in my useless human form once again. A trout isn't as filling as a fat seal, but a couple of them will vanquish my hunger for at least a few hours. The problem with a huge bear body is the huge amounts of food needed to fuel the mass. I exist in a constant fog of hunger. All that matters is eating.

A movement sparks my heightened senses. I react before I can even think, although bear thoughts aren't very rational anyway. My legs kick up moss and leaves in the chase for whatever animal lurks in the periphery. Its smell is strong: salt, blood, and fear.

Giant paws land upon bone, pinning the scared creature to the ground. I gaze into panicked eyes that strike a core of recognition deep underneath my animalistic instincts.

I know those eyes. Blue and free like the stream behind us. That is the unmistakable gaze of my brother.

His name escapes my raging and hungry mind--my lips wouldn't be able to utter the syllables anyway--but I know who he is. The only one of my siblings who still live.

My teeth and claws want to take his life but my heart resists. Human memory fights against predatory urge.

The last rays of the setting sun illuminate his struggle, as he fights with every muscle and bone to escape my grasp. He doesn't know it's me. How would he? In his mind, I'm dead and forgotten. Another victim of the harsh life on this forsaken island. I wonder what my father told him about my death. Certainly not the truth.

I fight as well. I fight against my muscles and bones, trying to resist the urge to dig my teeth into my brother's throat.

As I struggle--my vision turning red from the effort--something sharp hits my front leg. The pain startles me and causes me to jump back with a loud cry. A familiar dagger with a handle of walrus ivory sticks out from among tufts of fur.

The last traces of daylight disappear while I gaze down upon red drops staining white fur. I try to pull out the offending item with my teeth as the world becomes dark around me.

The next moment, my teeth are no longer jagged and my fur has disappeared. My urge to eat is replaced by worry.

"Ivar!" I yell. My brother's name is no longer hidden in the corners of my mind but instead tangible on the tip of my tongue. I fear I've hurt him, as the force of my other self is strong and unpredictable.

"Björn?" Ivar replies, alive but utterly confused. He rises from the ground and squints into the darkness.

A stinging pain radiates from my arm and I look down to discover blood pulsing from the wound the dagger made. The weapon itself has fallen to the ground during my transformation.

"You're hurt." Ivar is suddenly by my side, staring at the dagger that he just thrust into a bear sticking out from my limb. I supposed my secret is revealed.

But my brother doesn't stop to ponder my pitiful existence on the edge of reality. Instead, he quickly strips pieces of fabric from his shirt to wrap my arm. "Hold it high," he orders, showing me how to lift my arm. "It will stop the bleeding quicker."

I'm not sure I can even die, since I've already had my try on leaving this world, but I still oblige my brother's order. Perhaps because once again being in the presence of someone who cares is comforting.

We just sit there together for a moment as I hold my arm up in the air. Explanations of why I'm still in this world seem too farfetched and complicated for my weary mind. I just want one more moment with my little brother.

"You're alive," Ivar whispers once the silence of darkness becomes too much. She shakes his head, repeating the same sentence again. "You're alive, Björn."

"Something like that," I mutter, lowering my no longer throbbing arm. Whatever curse has befallen me has already healed the wound. I don't show the injury-free arm to Ivar. I want him to think he helped treat my pain.

Although he has alleviated my pain in other ways by his mere presence.

"Father said you died," Ivar continues. His gaze meets mine. He's so innocent and pure at barely seventeen. He still has hope.

"What did he tell you about my demise?" I ask, wondering what lies my father has fed the village.

"That you got attacked by a bear and there was nothing left of you." Ivar lifts his hand to wipe a tear from his cheek. Consumed by my own anguish, I didn't think of how my fate would affect my brother. "I went there the next day to see for myself. I only found blood on the moss and your dagger on the ground."

He bends down to pick up the once again fallen dagger and offers it to me. "This is yours."

I shake my head. "I don't need it. You should have it, Ivar." There is no use of a dagger when you have jagged teeth and sharp claws. "You need to be able to defend yourself."

"From you?"

It's a valid question. If it wasn't for the dagger and the sun setting, I could have seriously hurt my brother. I could have ended him.

"If need be," I say. "But I'm not the worst monster on these shores. You know that as well as I do."

Ivar nods. He knows who I'm talking about. But he doesn't know the extent of the monster's crimes.

"Our father did this," I mutter, unable to articulate exactly what happened that morning among the bluebells. My memory has wiped it out of existence. All I remember is my father's face as the world went black. "You need to leave before he hurts you too."

"Aakku and I are leaving," Ivar assures me with a hand on my shoulder. "As soon as the sea freezes over. It shouldn't be many weeks now."

I shake my head. "You need to leave now, brother," I insist, hit by a sudden conviction that my brother is in danger as long as he's in my father's grasp. "There's a path across the glacier up in the mountains. It will take you to the bays up north that are already frozen over."

I've seen the narrow path between mountain tops during my treks while wearing white fur.

"The glacier is too dangerous," Ivar protests. "If we fall into a crack, it's all over. I can't bring Aakku up there."

"I believe you would be in more danger than Aakku," I counter, unable to keep myself from throwing a verbal jab at my brother. "She's light on her feet like a fox while you have the grace of a walrus."

Ivar snorts at my comment and I let out a light chuckle. At that moment, everything is as it should be. Just two brother's joking jovially with each other.

"True," he admits. "Although I was always more graceful than you. You lumber like a damn polar bear."

The laughter gets stuck in his throat as he realizes what he just said. "Sorry," he mumbles.

I shrug. It's true that I never was very graceful, neither in my human or animal form.

"I may be able to help you though," I offer, realizing that my curse might be a blessing in this case. "I can lead you across the glacier. If the ice holds my weight, it will hold for you. Just... keep your distance as I can't always control myself when I'm... wearing my other skin."

Ivar nods, taking in the information as if hearing his brother talk about sometimes being a bear is nothing out of the ordinary.

"Meet me there in three days," I continue, unable to ignore the growing hunger in my belly. I need a few days to eat for it to be safe for my brother and Aakku to be in my vicinity for so long. I need to suppress my raging instincts to kill.

I need to prove that I'm not the one my brother should fear.