(Winchester, England) For one man, the simple act of attempting an alchemic-procedure in hopes of converting tin into gold more than a millennia ago, has become an astonishing adventure he'll never forget.
Æðelred, son of nobleman Rægenhere of the Kingdom of Wessex in the year 904 A.D., believes he might have added just a tad bit too much lead into his mixture, and that that might have been what caused the time-portal to open, swallow him up, and deposit him in the very same spot in the year 2010 -- 1106 years in the future.
Fortunately for Æðelred, that spot is right in the middle of a modern-day cornfield.
He spoke to us in Old English through an interpreter, who explained that he was doing the best he could with this particular dialect, which was/is actually somewhat different than was previously thought.
"Ic andgitfullice macian a recceleas misdæd, ond Ic beon nu her!" ("I screwed it all up somehow, and I wound up here!")
Æðelred, son of nobleman Rægenhere in the Kingdom of Wessex (904 A.D.), says he likes cars, mobile phones and football, but does not like the millions of Saracens (Muslims) that have been allowed, for some reason, to invade England (photo Outta Time Media)
"Cniht, Angelcynn beseon micel lytlian nu, eac I sceawian þæt feasceafig Saracens becuman habt. Hu on eormengrund war þæt motan zum befeallan?!" ("England looks so different now, and I see the wretched Muslims have invaded. How on Earth was that ever allowed to happen?!")
Æðelred, who was born in 883 A.D., is a "middle-aged" 21 years old in 904, and is married to Hereswið, daughter of Cuðbert of Mercia. They have two young children: Earpwald, a boy, and Æðelberga, a girl (nicknamed "Tata").
Æðelred excitedly told us "Jae cniht, gif min wif ond lytling hwanon scewian nu, man noht gelifan habt!" ("Yeah boy, if my wife and kids could see me now, they'd be freaking out!") Asked further what he thinks of modern, 21st century England, Æðelred stated that he likes cars, mobile phones and football, but he's most shocked and dismayed by the presence of so many millions of Muslims, a state of affairs that would be utterly unthinkable in Anglo-Saxon England.
"Ic sceawian þætse bigongen Mahometans anforlætaned þæt earmcearig gebæros æt eall habban noht!" ("I see that the Mahomet worshipers have not abandoned their wretched attitudes at all!")
Although he admits he never actually saw a Muslim before this accidental trip, he'd heard plenty of horror stories from kinsmen on the Continent who'd actually battled them in Northern Spain (Al-Andalus, at the time).
"Saracens giet ætywan earmlice idel gelic Ic hieran, man andgitfullice restan hæste hæþen hwa næfre giefan awiht aber geornfulnes man agan foldweg." ("The Muslims still appear wretchedly worthless, like I've heard, and clearly they remain nothing but violent heathens who never give anything but always demand their own way.")
Æðelred said that although he does want to go home to the 10th century at some point, he's content for now to hang out in the 21st in order to see what he can do about lowering the Muslim population, especially in his old family stomping grounds of Wessex.
"Eower Cyning oþþe hwa æfre dysig assa, Ic gecweðan im mit." ("Your King, or whatever you have now, must be an idiot, I wish to speak to him about this unfolding disaster.")
When a government Minister -- clearly caught up in the moment and not thinking along the appropriate timeline -- informed him that he would now certainly be the most famous Anglo-Saxon individual in history, even more famous and celebrated than King Edward the Confessor, Æðelred replied:
"Hwa þæt heilege ist Edward the Confessor? Ist am Cyning hwa eormengrund motan aesc-wriglig Saracens zu sprech, im Angelcynn hier mit?!" ("Who the hell is Edward the Confessor? Is he the idiot I need to talk to to about all these wretched Muslims arse-wagging everywhere?!")
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