image [https://i.imgur.com/OcU4JV9.jpg]

The Girl He Used To Know

Tales From The UnderCurrent Volume 0

----------------------------------------

The blinding oval-shaped, white light finally dispersed into a puff of plain sparkles - Returning the small wood-lined study of Pierre Havelock back to normal - Well except for a new inhabitant.

"Ah-ha! A civilian, how lovely and one with quite the nice lodgings I see, good for you sir. Now if you don't mind, could you tell me where I am perhaps?" Spoke the girl with the stark white hair.

Pierre stood awestruck for only a moment before leaping into action. Before him was a woman dressed in a mixture of brown and green leather armour (the light sort that allowed for a great freedom of movement, he noted). Furthermore, a red cape was swept across her dainty but clearly strong shoulders, and an ornate sword hung at her hip, completing the fantasy aesthetic.

Pierre had stood from his chair and begun to circle the girl, much to her bemusement. "What are you doing, good sir? Is something the matter? You look to have seen a ghost."

  She exclaimed, turning her head to follow the odd man's investigation.

"Silence girl, enough of that ridiculous 'Sir' nonsense. Tell me how in God's name did you perform that light show just now, Hmmm? I can't see any hidden equipment..." Pierre mused, rifling between his own bookshelves in search of an answer, "for that matter, how did you get past the guard on the front door eh? I swear you fans get ever more dogged." He ceased his searching and sat back into his leather armchair with a sigh, staring up at the now thoroughly confused young woman, "Well?! Have you no answers? Are you that star-struck woman? I would begin answering promptly unless you would like me to call the police post-haste!"

The young woman raised one of her 'admittedly pretty' eyebrows in confusion; "And what cause would you have for calling the local law enforcement my good man? You seem to be under some degree of distress. I apologise. I should introduce myself. My name is the Lady Aardig, first knight of the land, living Saint of the One Church, premier adventure on the entire continent and slayer of the grea--"

Pierre's heart fell for a passing moment as his ears seemed to ring with an eerie noise, his mind raced.

'She's not real, this is just some stupid prank, compose yourself man!'

"Enough!" he stated sternly, causing a rather hurt look to come across this Aardig's face.

Said face was something of note to Pierre. It was, put simply, wrong - The eyes were slightly too big and emotive, the smile and nose slightly too petite, the skin too clean and pale - 'That's it, she looks just like the poster!'

"I'll admit, your 'Cosplay' is it called? Is really quite admirable but I think this little charade has gone far enough don't you? What is it you want, a signed copy of the book? An interview? Well, spit it out girl!"

'The Girl' scrunched her smooth face into something of a frown; "But I am the Lady Aardig, and what is this 'Cause-Play' you speak of?"

"Oh God, you’re not one of those who character acts are you? The ones who pretend to be from a medieval society are always the most annoying." Pierre sighed with a mild air of annoyance.

"But I really am--"

"No, You Are Not!" He bellowed the words, which abounded intimidatingly off the small walls of the study;

"Now look here, this isn't funny alright? I don't know how you got in here or did that whole 'portal' thing, but you are not a character from one of my books, understand? For pity's sake why am I telling you this, it is surely the job of your therapist to quell these delusions, no?"

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"What is a 'Terror-Phist', sir?"

Pierre rubbed a fist against his wrinkled forehead in frustration, more than a little tempted to reach across for his phone and ring the police on the lunatic fan before him; "Alright, then answer me this: If you are Aardig, then why do you have such 'pronounced assets' hmmm?"

The girl flushed a bright crimson shade, rapidly taking half a step back. She crossed one hand in front of her modest chest and the other atop the hilt of her sword, "H-how dare you, sir! You are an utmost scoundrel!"

"Oh, spare me the dramatics. Fact is, your chest proves it!"

"Y-you speak of a l-lady's bosom with such flagrant disregard!? What in Sun's name do you hope to prove with such depravity?!" the girl replied, hand still firmly grasped on the pommel of her weapon, face still reddened.

"It proves," Pierre said, his voice now subdued and quickly growing uninterested, "that you can not be Aardig. Aardig was androgynous and you are, well, most certainly a young woman."

As he said the words, he pulled open a desk drawer, shuffled through it for a moment before retrieving a long paper tube and unfurling it before his intruder. The girl calling herself Aardig blinked repeatedly, mesmerised by the thing, "That's me! It would seem you are quite the artist along with being a perverted scoundrel. Tell me how did you draw it so quickly, and these colours, they are truly magnificent!"

 She removed her hand from the sword's hilt and instead leaned in closer to better observe the poster Pierre held before her.

Mr.Havelock scowled, while doing his best to avert his gaze from Aardig's now (owing to her leaning forward) extenuated - 'What did she call it? Oh yes, her extenuated Bosom.'

On the Poster was a 2D version of the girl with the white hair, or more accurately, the girl was dressed to almost identically match the person in the poster.

"Alright, I'll spell it out if I must. This here is the poster done by the Japanese PR team for my book. They believed using an 'anime aesthetic' would bring in a larger crowd, hence this 're-imagining' of the Lady Aardig. However the real Lady Aardig was not nearly so feminine - Ergo, you girl have copied a fictional character of my devising, so no matter how impressive your special effects and make-up, you can't possibly be the real St.Aardig, Ha!"

The girl looked from the poster to the beaming-smug face of the man holding it, entirely at a loss for what he was prattling about. Pierre however now seemed to have completely lost interest in the girl herself and instead become lost in thought on other matters; "I mean it is actually somewhat interesting. You see, I have been studying some Japanese culture ever since we started selling the book there. The point being that the youths of Japan have this concept called 'The Waifu', fictional cartoon women who they fall deeply infatuated with. They take these characters from television programmes, books and so on - And project all the traits they wish they could find in a real man or woman onto them - In effect, they create in their minds their idealised spouse. But in this case, St.Aardig is an actual creation of my own devising so what would that therefore make you, Hmmmm? An idealised sexual fantasy of my own writing come to life?

I wonder if the Japanese have a separate ter--"

"Your What?!" ‘Aardig' said. She had now leaned back away from the poster, her face darkened.

Pierre didn't bother looking up to respond (this would prove to be a mistake); "Hmmm? Oh indeed, you’re a waifu yes? Well, a girl dressed up as an 'imaginary tart' whom has snuck into my house to attempt seduction via a fantasy metaphor. Honestly, there must be more dignified ways to get an autograph from me than this. And, I might add, your 'rear-assets' are far too highlighted in that get-up - Completely out of scale compared to the real Aar--"

SMACK

'Pierre Havelock OBE' couldn't remember the last time someone had dared smack him across the face, nor the last time he had seen someone with such an offended blush, so deeply burgundy. What he did know was that never had he been hit harder in his life, well not in this 'current life' at least...

****