The Split

Chapter 35

Hungary, 1241

Suddenly a boundary appeared around our bright thoughtscape. I was thrust into another's perception through a tight space. A new set of thoughts reached out towards mine in fear.

The other consciousness felt quaint and simple. I could sense little more than base instinct and images of unknown people. It took little effort to console my new host, I showed him my intentions through memories of my past. He did not understand much of the strange worlds I showed him, but relaxed and allowed me to settle into his mind.

I could feel total control of the body and opened my eyes. The room was dark and my body was covered with a large blanket made of rough fur.

I had been sleeping, but where was I?

My vision was blurry as I looked around the room, trying to see through the darkness. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust. Wooden crates lay next to my cot. The walls of the room were canvas. A cool breeze came in from the outside, catching the corners of the canvas sheets as they flapped about gently. I could see wooden supports holding up the walls and matching canvas ceiling. The room appeared to be a large tent, wider and taller than any I had ever been in.

I stretched out on the crude mattress below me. My shins hung over the edge, dangling uncomfortably. Clenching and expanding my muscles, I felt powerful. My arms and legs were much longer than they had ever been before and each of my limbs felt coiled and tight with strength. Large muscles stretched the lengths of both, just under the surface of my skin. I rotated sideways and stood to my feet.

I was tall, very tall. Even in the darkness I could tell I easily stood a head higher than normal. A man stirred in a cot next to the entrance and stood up next to me. He slipped on a suit of chain mail, emblazoned with a Red Cross on top of a pair of leather boots and put the boots on next. As he turned to leave the tent I put up a hand to stop him.

"Where... Where am I going?" I stammered, voice catching in my throat.

His eyes widened at my words, "I- I... I," he stuttered, still in shock before pointing outside the tent and to the left.

I thanked him and he nodded slightly, never taking his eyes off me. Pushing the two folds of the tent outward, I stepped out into the world.

The early morning sunlight burned away to my east, forcing me to narrow my eyes as they adjusted from the dark space of the tent. Shouts and laughter rang out all around me and I saw that I was in a camp, much larger than the impromptu setup I had seen in Cuba. Hundreds of tents, identical to the one I had just left, stretched as far as the eye could see. In the long aisles between them, men labored. Some carried crates and led horses, as others crowded around wagons conversing loudly.

High above the tops of the tents were standards of every color. They flapped wildly in the breeze, as the shapes of dozens of animals and symbols danced in the foreground of the colored banners.

After a few seconds of searching, I spotted the same Red Cross the man in the tent had been wearing and headed towards it. Men of all types looked up at me as I passed. I stood the same height as most horses I walked by, all men who approached looked tiny by comparison. At home I had been tall, measuring close to 6'5, but this body was freakish. I couldn't be sure, but I estimated my height to be well over 7 feet as I measured myself against the items around me.

The banner of the Red Cross was attached to a red tent, larger than the rest and off to the side by itself. A big circle of men, all wearing armor with the same sigil, dominated the middle of the space just outside. Some of them turned around as I approached and a soldier in full gear broke away from the circle to wave and call out.