TW: Gore, human sacrifice, child murder
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It was only a matter of time until both Ljóðey and San had to leave the cosy hut together. They allowed Wooyoung to roam free upstairs so he wouldn't get trapped in an emergency, but they advised him to keep the fire out and make no noise. With Bein at his side, he looked after the couple worriedly when they left to have dinner with their village for the winter solstice.

In the first hours, nothing special happened. Wooyoung played a game with Bein and taught him how to give him his paw when Wooyoung asked for it. The fire simmered low with time and the warmth provided by the sweltering coal thickly filled even the coldest corners of the room. It wouldn't last all night, and San and Ljóðey had been unsure when they would return.

For a while, Wooyoung flicked through a book on Norse myths that San had given him. Only once the room got too dark and the skies outside provided no sunlight for him to read in, Wooyoung stopped the strain in his eyes. He put the book away and huddled into his spot in front of the fireplace with Bein in his arm to share the dog's warmth. Since he had a lot of sleep to catch up on from last night, he fell asleep soon and hoped to slumber through the cold hours until the owners of the house would return.

To the sound of a nearby crow in the forest croaking its nightly call and the distant sound of drums sounding from the town hall, Wooyoung drifted in and out of his light slumber. His senses were attentive to any noise, whether it was San returning or the storm outside setting back in.

The more time passed, the more tired he became, and the more assured his brain got of its safety. Thus, when the door finally opened too suspiciously quiet to be homeowner coming back, Wooyoung slept through the initial entrance of the two men.

It was only when Bein jerked up his head to eye the intruders that the icy breeze filtering through his blanket startled Wooyoung awake, too.

"So you returned, huh? Found no place to stay at?"

Before Wooyoung knew what was happening, the two Vikings with their scary faces already knelt next to him. They launched him from his position as if he weighed nothing. Too used to the village inhabitants, Bein just sniffed at the group curiously.

"No, wait-" When Wooyoung gained awareness that he was being taken away, he yanked on his arms. The two tall men held one of them each and their rough fingers dug into his flesh until they left bruises. Far too weak to escape, Wooyoung got dragged outside into the frosty night. His breath formed white clouds in front of his face as he got yanked toward the main cluster of huts. His feet struggled to find a footing on the snowy path, so they slid along more than he walked.

"Right on time. We found no good alternative, so we planned to sacrifice a buck instead, but you will make for a better offering. Your stubbornness will impress Odin," the man left of Wooyoung said. A nasty scar split over his eye to blind him partly, and in celebration of the winter solstice, he had painted runes on his face. The red colour shimmering on his left cheek had to be blood.

Wooyoung resisted to the best of his ability, but he was no match for two mighty Vikings. Unable to defend himself, he soon landed in one of the biggest huts. The usual grand halls were filled with various women that hurried around to provide festivity guidance to the people. Two of them applied makeup to a group of people's faces. Two others picked out fruit and meat in baskets to offer to their gods.

Wooyoung got hauled over to a group of two boys and two girls in pretty garments and golden accessories that decorated their wrists, necks, and hair. He stumbled when he was thrust roughly toward the overseeing woman, but caught himself to stare at the group with big eyes. Just as confused, the kids that had to be between six and ten years old stared back.

"We found our fifth one. Get him ready while I inform the chief." The men nodded at her with their grim faces and hair that was shaved at the sides and tied up in several sections behind their heads. While they took off, Wooyoung remained frozen with the group. As if they couldn't see him if he stood still.

"Good, that you returned. The gods will bless you for it. Undress. I have a garment for you ready." The overseeing woman's smile was friendly, as if she didn't prepare him to get killed. Her ginger hair fell over her shoulders when she bent to retrieve some clothes from a chest.

"No, please- I'm not from here. I'm no suitable sacrifice," he tried to convince her. When she looked up at him, her brows had drawn together over bright eyes.

"What are you saying? You coming here to become an honourable gift to the gods is the greatest pride you and us can receive. Kids, please help him undress."

Wooyoung squeaked and twisted away, but the children's hands tugging on him soon had him naked. Helpless, he looked around the bustling hall. Too many people lingered between him and the exit that led into a cold nowhere. San was nowhere in sight. Wooyoung didn't doubt that they would hunt him with spears if he fled.

"Your body has ripened already. Not as young as you look, are you? But that is fine. Then you will become the heart piece of the ceremony."

Wooyoung begged her again to stop as she forced him into another garment. He was glad to be wearing something on his shivering limbs again, but he didn't like the looks of the thick white tunic. All of them were dressed in white, with the girls wearing some veils in combination. Innocent and clean.

Through all of his attempts, Wooyoung couldn't slow the woman's process. She wrapped a braided belt around his hips and gave him a heavy necklace. By the time he was allowed to step back, many people had left the hall already to bustle outside. In the dark night of the north, they illuminated the place between the houses with bright torches. Laughter and gleeful voices carried through the walls.

When the preparations were finished, two warriors came to lead them outside. Wooyoung gulped at the sight of the sturdy ropes they carried over their shoulders and the glinting knives on their belts. Hesitantly, he trudged along as the four kids went with them like little angels.

"You have never observed a ritual, have you? Just follow the lead of the others." The red-haired woman had leaned into Wooyoung's space conspiratorially, as if she was glad to help. He made an undefined noise in response. Maybe he should flee and risk getting seen as they stepped through that door? He still had a lot to ask San, but he didn't want to risk his life for it. He could still search for San in a less dangerous setting than this one.

With a gulp, Wooyoung discreetly felt over his clothes. When he didn't find the remote in its usual place, chilly dread nearly rooted his feet to the floor. He slowed, his hands patting over himself more frantically. No little bump, no bronze device.

He didn't wear his time travel remote on his body anymore.

When terror so icy that his heart froze for a few minutes had him shiver, the woman grabbed coats for all five of them. They halted for a moment before they stepped out, in which she lovingly closed them around their bodies. She didn't comment on Wooyoung's ashen face.

Where had it gone? Had he lost it on the ship? It had to be somewhere; his clothes had been bunched up securely. Or was it in the water?

Wooyoung needed to find it. He couldn't return home without it and while Yongguk would notice soon enough if his estimated date of return passed and would send Seungyoun after him, Wooyoung might not live long enough for that.

Wooyoung eyed the guards. His chances at a successful flight were below zero. Not only was every warrior in the village assembled here and ready to hunt him for sport, but he would also need to stay in the area to find the missing device. Could it be at San's house?

Panicking, Wooyoung stumbled outside when the rest of the group pushed him with them. Two of the kids had taken his hands in theirs as if they had to drag a stubborn mule with them.

Wooyoung expected coldness, but it wasn't as horrible as anticipated. The Vikings had lit a bright bonfire outside and hammered sticks into the frozen earth that they ignited. The torches created paths between the houses and to the nearby village well that was sealed to keep the snow outside.

The village wasn't huge, but Wooyoung believed at least a few hundred people lived nearby. They all had assembled to grill meat over the fire and boast about their weapons and pelts that they wore for the special occasion. Uncaring about their sinister plans, the sparks of the flames disappeared into the night sky.

It didn't snow tonight, but Wooyoung still dreaded the frosty winter night.

The crow's calls in the forest mixed with the distant rushing of water from the nearby ocean.

Numb, Wooyoung followed along with his group. All his prior worries about getting slaughtered like an animal were lost with his general dread of being stuck in time. This had never happened to him before, especially not among unfriendly people and surroundings as quickly changing as the wintery forest. If he had lost the device in the snow near the docks while San had carried him, he might only find it if that snow ever melted.

As he followed behind his procession, Wooyoung didn't raise his eyes. He didn't notice how Ljóðey pointed him out to San in the crowd and how the man's features darkened as he settled his hand on the double axe on his back. Both of them picked up on Wooyoung's distress and the way his fingers subtly flittered over his body as he checked for the hundredth time whether he still had his device somewhere.

Some snow got into Wooyoung's boots to bite at the skin of his ankles, but he barely felt it. The dread inside of him was much colder than the world could ever get.

Would he die tonight? Would he honestly die and be too terrified to even move? Would he just stand there while the Vikings slit his throat to splatter their sacrificial stones with blood?

When his group came to stand, Wooyoung was close to fainting. He held himself up on the hands of the kids with all of his might so he wouldn't collapse into the snow.

The chief of the village was an impressive man. Tall and broad like a boar, he rose his heavy horn at the surrounding guests that had all collected near the well curiously. The hand of the red-haired woman on Wooyoung's shoulder served as a warning for him to stay. He couldn't have moved even if he wanted. With terrified eyes, he watched the chief give a toast to the winter solstice and the gods.

"May our souls be blessed and the prey we catch in the winter enough to feed us all! Tonight, we will sacrifice these five children to the godfather, Odin. Under his guidance, we shall hope for a pleasant spring to ease our hearts soon."

Loud cheers answered him. The Vikings rattled with their shields and weapons until all the sound of banging metal deafened Wooyoung. As if through a cloud, he heard the chief direct his voice at the woman next to Wooyoung.

"Which is your centrepiece tonight, my dear?"

The woman patted Wooyoung's cramped shoulder. He flinched.

"This one."

He nodded at her. Mighty, his long blond beard covered most of his chest. Wooyoung had no appreciation left over for the intricate braids and accessories in it.

"Wise decision. Then he shall go last."

The woman nodded before she took one of the young boys' hand. He was the youngest, barely tall enough to stomp through the high snow without difficulties. As she led him towards the well, two warriors heaved the wooden lid down from the opening. With matching grunts, they dropped it on the ground.

After she had positioned the boy in front of the well, two others joined the woman. They held the boy's hands outstretched while the red-haired eldest stepped behind him. The fire glinted in the boy's curious eyes when she pulled her dagger to brandish it to the skies.

"Oh, Odin. Please accept this sacrifice as a gift for your blessing. May the stars guide his soul to you so you can take him under your protective wing."

Wooyoung watched as she brought the dagger down to the boy's neck. A gentle hand tipped his head back, and she whispered at him to close his eyes.

Then her arm jerked back. Wooyoung's eyes dashed to the side, so he didn't have to watch how the child's body ached and then gargled around death. In their wooden bowls, the women collected the blood from the boy's neck and wrists. Some drops fell onto the snow to stain it as white as the sacrifice's tunic.

It had begun.