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Episode 5

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Against Pierre's better judgement, walking through the quieter parts of London Town and to the small park near his home: had become a daily activity.

At first he had thought Maka would, after his initial tour of the area, be able to go on as many walks as she liked by herself - But that had proved not to be the case. It was far from a question of security, Pierre had complete confidence that even without her sword, Maka's Magi abilities, sheer techniques and skills combined gave her combat prowess far greater than any Earth human could likely hope to match, especially not a regular would-be mugger or murderer prowling the city streets.

No, instead, every day the girl would find some new reason to drag Pierre along: and for his part, Pierre found he didn't really require all that much convincing. And so flew past the days into the better part of a week since Maka had suddenly appeared through a portal of blinding white light in his humble study.

Today Maka's excuse had been wanting to see the city in dusk light and so the two had set out a bit later in the day. This, combined with the seasons beginning to change, meant it was much warmer outside and the young woman took a great interest in all the new plants beginning to think about sprouting, or the trees reclaiming their fallen leaves.

W hen Maka's overt eagerness finally started to settle, they chose to sit on one of the park benches they always seemed to pass by, in order to give Pierre a breather. The park with the gravel track around its circumference, the green where children now played football in the early evening light, and where the grey chip-van that seemed to have permanent residence in the place was. The bench they chose was on one side of the food van. To its far side was another bench where two teenagers, a boy and a girl sat speaking - But far enough away that they could not be overheard - Pierre liked to make sure people were not listening to his and Maka's bizarre conversations.

For her part Maka sat contentedly eating from a brown paper bag of chips they had bought from the van. Pierre had been glad that for all her odd similarities, Maka did not eat like an 'anime character'. He had seen some clips of the so-called 'waifu' eating, and quite bluntly, the strange way they took small bites of food before smiling in pleasure: downright crept Pierre out. Indeed, he was glad Maka ate food like a normal person.

He had opted against getting anything, somewhat concerned that his diet had been compromised by his time with Maka - She did not seem to share this worry.

"So listen… I have been... Reading your books… And I have questions..."

Maka said in between mouthfuls, "I'm up to the… Third volume--"

"The third?! Are you skim-reading or something, woman?" Pierre asked in genuine surprise. He had been against Maka even looking at the thing until just a couple of days ago.

Maka finished eating momentarily, "I have always been a fast reader my dear man. You can put it down to your 'engaging prose'," she smiled sweetly.

'Engaging prose my arse, you shouldn't even be able to speak English, never-mind binge reading it!'

"Anyway, my question is in regards to our current circumstances. To be clear, roughly thirty years ago you were taken from our world and, errr, 'isekaied' to this Earth, yes?"

Pierre nodded along his agreement.

"Then almost two years ago, twenty-eight after your arrival - The Earth researchers discovered a way to look back into our world which they dubbed 'UnderCurrent' - In much the same way one might look through a neighbouring house's windows."

"Odd analogy but yes I suppose," Pierre said with another nod.

Maka smiled in self-gratification before continuing on;

"To your horror, you looked through this window, only to see the world had advanced thousands of years since your departure: to a point where the horseless carriages of this planet Earth seem like nothing. Now your home is packed with metal boats that fly through not just the sky, but space itself. And humanity rides atop giants that give battle against one another in the very heavens themselves!

So I ask you, Pierre, my dear fellow, could it be that you not only travelled through space but also time, to the future of both Earth and Bhaile, yes?"

Pierre sighed. He had often contemplated thoughts like these for years, but it was undoubtedly strange hearing them coming from another person.

"And I take what you’re getting at, is that if I was randomly transported through time and space, from one place to another, then you could have had the same happen too, that it?"

Maka took this as her turn to nod in confirmation, "Exactly, if the time and place are randomly picked, then that would explain why I arrived here thirty years after you did but know less about my history than you do. Like when we met, you claimed I was 'Empress of the World' yet in my time, I am only the heir of a small nation, see?"

Pierre massaged his forehead patiently, "Yes but that's it exactly, isn't it? When I left you were already on your merry way to conquering the known world, so how can you be here now, before you've done that? The version of me you claim to have left behind must, by all rights, still end up here ergo he needs to have the same memories as me - Or it becomes some sort of 'Paradox'."

"Ha-ha my dear Pierre, perhaps not! Imagine if you will, that I disappear into this world, spend some time here with 'current-you' and then return again. As long as I don't tell anyone what happened, what is to say they would know any different?

Then I could still become Empress and the 'younger you' could still get sent here."

Pierre frowned as he turned this idea over in his mind;

"I suppose, were it not for other inconsistencies in your appearance, that might - Theoretically at least, be possible. However, I doubt it."

"And why is that!" Maka returned indignantly.

"Look down the pathway for a moment would you," Pierre said, pointing along the gravel track a few paces before them, "how much time would it take to get from here to its corner?"

Maka frowned, "Maybe twenty seconds at a light pace, why?"

"Because, while you could measure the path in metres or feet or yards - Time, although more variable, is also a measurement. Therefore I believe Bhaile, or the UnderCurrent, and Earth - Are two planets in this same universe. I have long held that when I was moved from one planet to this Earth, the time it would have taken to physically make that trip was added on. In essence, it seems to me, that to get from Earth to Bhaile would be a trip thousands of miles in length - Or if we were measuring it in years, thousands of those - Hence why time had moved so much when I arrived here.

It's like if I suddenly teleported from this bench to the corner of the footpath without walking, but with twenty seconds of time still having elapsed."

Maka laid the bag of chips she had still been picking from, down on her lap and raised a hand to her chin in contemplation of these somewhat advanced concepts: especially advanced for a woman from an age where the viaduct or crossbow was the pinnacle of technology.

Her face had a habit of scrunching up slightly when in thought, her forehead wrinkling ever so minorly in a fashion Pierre couldn't help but think was a little cute.

"So--" She said, breaking her ad-hoc meditation on the matter, "--In order for a me of my current age to be here, I would have arrived a couple of years before you did..."

Pierre nodded, but a kindly look overcame his face. Absentmindedly he laid a hand atop Maka's silky white hair and ruffled it playfully;

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"Good effort though, I appreciate the thought you've put in. I dare say many people of this world wouldn't have understood half of what I just said," he finished with a surprisingly warm laugh and happy smile, which Maka reciprocated with a laugh of her own;

"Alright then, I have another question," she said, smiling.

This time Pierre didn't sigh or whine in protest, if anything seeming happy at the easy air of the conversation, "Go on?"

"In the book, one of the characters claims his middle name is 'Havler', that the eldest child in his family is always given that name based off some ancient hero, right?"

Pierre's smile broke a little as Maka continued, "Now obviously, he can't be your direct descendant, but what if he's a distant relative of your sister? I mean a week ago, you told me there was nothing left in the UnderCurrent to prove you or your family had ever even existed, but with this, in your own book is a character with your name!

If it's true, that would make him your great, great, great - A lot of greats - Nephew, a great legacy, yes!?"

‘My sister.... yes, my sister, my family. When did I last think about her?

Writing the book I suppose, but even then - What happened to her after I left? Did she lead a good life, was she happy? How....how could I not think about something like that more seriously, how could I forget my own family?'

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"Well unless you just put it in for fun." Maka continued to muse at Pierre's side.

"For fun?" Pierre asked, his voice strained a little as his mind found itself preoccupied.

Maka nodded, "Ya I read on the internet - And don't say it, I know you think the internet is 'Haunted by Degenerates' or something but thus far it seems a most amiable place -

Anyhow I read some writers like to project themselves into their stories or include characters based on themselves."

'How many years since you really thought about them, about your family?

Remember how happy everyone was when Sis settled with that nice man? Not a soldier like me, liable to go off to war and never come back - But instead a good man who could protect his family and respect them, with a stable blacksmith's job. Yes, a good man for a wonderful woman.

Th-they, they were expecting a child when I got transported to Earth, weren't they? A baby I never saw, a niece or… maybe a nephew… Father must have been so ecstatic to become a grandparent...'

"No girl, I did not self-insert myself into my own book, what do you take me for? It is a historical archive of a scientific study for public consumption. I simply wrote what I saw and the Havler mentioned could be anyone - The name was common enough. It could refer to someone who heroically saved a child from a burning building or cured a town of some deadly disease. I highly doubt it has anything to do with me, thank you very much!!" Pierre stated with an uncomfortable tone overcoming his voice.

Maka's face became coloured with concern;

"Oh, yes that could be true. I didn't mean to offend your writing, it's just.... What about in volume 2, the Gole--"

"Ha! More coincidences, that creature could have been one of thousands - It proves nothing!" Pierre shot back dismissively.

Maka went to lay a hand on Pierre's forehead, worry plastered across her body language, "Are you feeling ok? You almost sound like you don't want a legacy?"

A lurching feeling crept around Pierre's body, a sickness in his stomach and dryness of his throat. His mind felt the familiar sensation of vertigo as his emotions swelled. It was as though Maka's talk of family had hit a trigger, a switch of repressed feelings and emotions. Things he thought he had dealt with long ago. Thirty years of pent-up regret and remorse.

'How easy is it to forget a face? If you don't see an old friend for ten years, you might remember the standout moments, their name - Even their favourite foods, but their face?'

'The subtle contortions of their smile on a happy occasion, the slight swelling of their expressions during a tear-filled funeral. The flush of their cheeks on a first date.

How many years does it take to forget the face of your own sister, man!!'

Pierre harshly slapped Maka's hand away from feeling his forehead. He glared into her hurt filled eyes; "What do you care how I feel, or whether I have a legacy or not?"

"Pierre, I don't under--"

"Who Are You, Woman?! A ghost, a dream? The restless spirit of someone I wronged, hmmmm? What are you, who are you?! What right have you to turn up out of nowhere like this and pry into my so-called 'legacy'!"

He spat loudly.

Maka laid her hands on her lap and sat up straight, trying for a calm demeanour as she spoke; "I am the Lady Aardig, your friend, but it's ok if you don't want to call me that. We decided to go with the name Maka remember? I like it a lot, ok?"

But no words seemed to reach Pierre now. All the confused emotions that boiled inside him seemed to focus on the young woman before him - A focal point for unwarranted anger.

"But you’re not, are you!? See I started to think you were, started to believe maybe you were right! Maybe my memories were wrong: because that's the thing, memories, dreams, they can all change, shift, be manipulated. What if I had imagined a perfect woman in my head with you as the actual, authentic version of the girl? But then I thought further, and just now it clicked. Something I’d realised from the start - Ha, I'm ashamed I didn't acknowledge it sooner!"

"Pierre please calm down--"

"No! It's your turn to be quiet and listen to me you harleton!" Pierre half-roared, loud enough for others in the park to turn and stare; "Science, ha, Science! My memories might all be wrong but not the scientific facts of the matter. Why are your eyes not red!?"

Maka's face seemed to freeze for a moment, as though everything inside her had stopped for a few seconds.

"See! SEE! There it is. Your hair is white and your skin fair - All because of your magical abilities, magic you overused. But your eyes should be red!

I even checked my notes from writing about the UnderCurrent: nothing has changed in thousands of years! All Magi gain a faint red tinting to their pupils, so light you might not even see it - But before your hair goes white, or skin turns pale - Your eyes always go entirely red first. And yet YOU, with that stupid white hair and alabaster skin, have brown eyes!! It is not my memories miss-remembering your eye colour, but that You are scientifically Impossible! Ha-HA!"

As his ramble ended, Pierre grabbed Maka harshly by the wrist, yanking her close to his face before using his other hand to hold open his own eyelid.

"Pierre, that hurts, please--"

"Shut Up!! Look, in my eyes. Faint, so very faint because I had so little esper ability - But it's there, eh?! A faint red rim! It's been staring at me, the answer this whole time in every mirror and every dream - Red eyes, You don't have red eyes!"

Reluctantly, Maka nodded. You wouldn't see it without focusing, but around the rim of Pierre's eyes was a trace of red.

"And yet yours are completely brown. No messed-up memories or, or - Or imaginary bloody waifu's. Just scientific proof that you are not My Aardig! So then who the hell are you? Why did you appear in my home, sauntering around like you own the place, breaking my best armchair, wrecking my dining room? Causing everyone on the street to start talking about 'Havelock's Young Mistress'?!"

Maka pulled her wrist free from Pierre's continued grasp, a faint red mark forming from the strength of his grip - And stood silently up from the small park bench.

"Pierre, you said once that some people like being alone. Is that what this is? Do you want.... want me to leave you?"

"I am not your plaything to tease and take advantage of. What I want is simple - Tell me who or what you are." That was all Pierre said back.

Maka turned her face aside, visible tears welling in her eyes, her bruised wrist clutched within her other hand, both pressed against her chest;

"I'll...I think I should go now… I'll be at the house: If it is still our home… I can find my own way back...."

And with that, she began to walk away, not stopping to look back at Pierre.

For his part, the man slumped back onto the bench, with Maka's departure so too went the nexus of his sudden rage, seemingly causing all the built-up anger to dissipate in an instant.

He stared up at the sky as his head swirled with emotion, staring at ugly grey rain clouds forming on the horizon as he evaluated his spontaneous outburst and how easy it had been for Maka to accidentally hit him so deeply - Had his emotions always been this vulnerable?

Pierre sat for some time, evaluating feelings he’d thought abandoned decades ago.

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