Satus Tempus

CHAPTER TWO

"What could really be the harm in trying to find out as much as we can?" Kira asked, a large book propped open in her lap. Although her short hair was braided back, a few pieces stuck out, clinging to her forehead with perspiration. It was unseasonably hot for April in Germany, and that meant that the library, though dry, was quite warm.
I shut my own book—that I had reluctantly agreed to flip through only after Kira's begging—and sighed, leaning back on my hands. We were in our third week of research at Burg Hartz, and the time was dragging on. Closing my eyes against the dim light of the lamp, I allowed my mind to wander. Today, flipping through books with Kira, reminded me of the Saturday library trips I had taken with my dad before my parent's accident. We had browsed everything from mystery to romance, often coming home with armfuls of books, most of which we didn't have the time to finish. It always amazed me, even as a child, just how much material was out there, written and otherwise. I felt like my dad would introduce me to a dozen new books, films, and songs each week, besides those which were constantly being newly released.
I knew for certain that he would have loved the library here, even though he didn't know a lick of German—that was an interest I had developed on my own later on. The history of the books and personal items was hard to pass up, besides the fact that each piece told a story of its own, leading one to wonder just how it had been used, how often, and by who. Moments like this, where I am so immersed in the intrigues of my field, I am more than glad that I kept on reading and researching after my father's passing, that I had not allowed my interest to disappear with him.
Blinking, I sighed again. Kira slowly flipped through her book, patiently awaiting my response. No question was really hypothetical with her, I had learned early on; she always intended to know the answer or solution to something, no matter what it took to get there. "The harm," I started, softly, "is reading too far into it. Just...entertaining the possibility."
Kira rolled her eyes. "G, we've been through this again and again."
"Which is why I wish you'd drop it," I mumbled, picking up the next book.
"Doesn't look like you're dropping it."
I looked up at her, one brow raised. "How so?"
"Honestly, G," Kira sighed. "If you were simply content to drop it, you definitely would not be helping me right now. We would have moved far beyond the subject, never to be mentioned again." She closed her book gently, shaking her head. "No, I think a part of you believes it, no matter how small. And that's why we're combing through these books, looking for any mention of...well, you. You need to know for sure, don't you?"
Despite myself, I blushed a bit at how well she could read me. I was hoping to pass off my assistance as just appeasing Kira, but of course that wasn't the case. I did want to know, once and for all, to find something that proved that the woman in the portrait somehow wasn't me. Because although I did not want her to be me, deep down, I was honestly terrified that she was.
"I don't know, really," I lied, keeping my eyes cast down. If I so much as looked at Kira, I knew the truth would come pouring out.
I had to admit: this entire scenario was a dream. Who didn't want to be a mysterious time traveller, going back to discover all the intrigues—and challenges—of an entirely different time and place? It was the stuff of novels, the stuff of fantasies, especially for a history student. Of course I could imagine myself in such a time, but maybe that's what made it worse. It almost made me nauseous to admit that this could be real, that my face exactly matched that of the woman in the portrait, the one who shared my name. Honestly, it was a bit ridiculous to keep insisting that she wasn't me; at this point, it seemed like a rather pathetic defense mechanism.
The more I mulled over the subject, the scarier it seemed. Not just that I would be hurtling through time and have to adjust to a foreign world, but that, as shown by the papers Kira had found, I would be married. Granted, I had no idea how soon, but the thought unsettled me nonetheless. Or did it...excite me? I was starting to have trouble discerning between anxiousness and eagerness.
What was I thinking? This all sounded so ridiculous when I really thought about it. But on the hand, who was I to deny the possibility outright? I had never really tried to travel, never truly considered the possibility.
"Well, then we keep searching, keep reading," Kira said thoughtfully, snapping me out of my reverie. "Even if we don't come across anything that's helpful, at least we've been finding info to use in our essay." She shrugged as if she wasn't determined to find a definite answer on the matter. Though it seemed like a ruse to keep me scanning through our towering stack of books, I easily caved, flipping another page.
My eyes narrowed as I noticed a strange passage. "Hm," I murmured, reading through the lines.
"What is it?" Kira asked, failing to hide the anticipation in her voice.
My brows creased together as I read on. "That's weird," I mumbled. "It looks like...no, that can't be."
Kira huffed. "G, I'm dying over here," she said, crawling over and sitting next to me. As she read around my shoulder, she pointed to a line. "Fiel in Ungnade? What's that?"
"Fell out of favor," I said softly, turning the page. I scanned the paragraphs, but they had moved onto various other topics, failing to explain the Schulers' apparent misfortune. "It doesn't say why, though. Isn't that strange?"
"Really strange," Kira frowned. Her eyes briefly darted up to mine once, then again, before resting on her hands folded in her lap.
"Have something to say?" I prompted, closing the book.
She looked up at me again, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks and neck. "Can I be honest?" she whispered.
"Of course."
Again, she averted her gaze to her hands in her lap, her thumbs tracing each other's shape in turn. "I just, well, I honestly think that..." Kira sighed. "You should go, G. You should. I think we both know that the woman in that portrait is you. We're both obsessed with the story of this family because we know. And we care.
"All I've ever wanted for you is the happiness you deserve. I know all of this seems utterly crazy, but it's your crazy. It's the adventure and thrill of a lifetime. Besides," Kira finally looked up at me, a lopsided grin tugging at her red lips, "if anyone could make it in an entirely different era, it's you."
"What about a different country?" I murmured, returning her smile.
"That too." Kira leaned into me, resting her head against mine. "I believe in you, G, and I don't think any of this is a coincidence. But," she sighed, "if it is, what's the worst that happens? Time travel is a myth, and hard as you try you stay right where you are? Then at least we know, and we can forget we ever believed in such a silly idea."
I only realized I was chewing my lip when I tasted the metallic tang of blood. "And if it isn't a coincidence, if that is me?" I whispered.
"Then you trust the path of life," Kira said resolutely. "We all end up where we are meant to be, and I think you need to start trusting, and stop resisting."
"I'm not resisting!" I huffed. Kira pulled away from me just in time to see me roll my eyes. She narrowed her eyes at me, shaking her head.
"Then you won't be opposed to a little more research?" Kira asked, opening the book I had been reading. "So that you can be prepared?" she added softly.
"Never thought you'd be so studious," I grumbled, trying to find my page. I traced my finger along the words, picking up where I left off. "Hm, it really doesn't say why they left. Not even a mention of religious persecution."
Kira scanned the words over my shoulder. "Sooo...maybe it wasn't?"
"Maybe," I murmured. "It's sad though, isn't it? To have to leave your home, an estate that was in the same family for generations."
Kira rested her chin on my shoulder, leaning into me. "It really is. But, I don't know, everything seems to happen for a reason. Maybe it was safer to leave. Maybe they no longer could keep up with running everything," she suggested. "Plus, had they kept on in this place, with all their belongings and heirlooms, something could've gone wrong then. Like, you know, wars and stuff."
"Yeah," I sighed, still scanning the page. But the author had moved on to describing another family in a nearby castle. I checked my watch; the day had begun to feel like it was dragging on. "Woah, it's already 3:40." Closing the book, I returned it to the shelf and started gathering my things.
Kira was doing the same, but at a much slower pace. She frowned as she put up her books, sighed while she packed her bag, and slumped her shoulders as we ascended the uneven stone staircase.
"What is it?" I asked, grabbing hold of the door in the wall and clicking it shut behind us. The frayed edges of the faded, gold and blue patterned wallpaper slid almost seamlessly into place. It was still quite sunny outside, and looked terribly warm. I groaned internally.
"Nothing in particular," she sighed, shuffling through the hallway, her beat-up keds scuffing across the wide wooden floorboards. "Just thinking."
"Alright," I murmured. But, making our way through the castle, passing numerous tapestries—which had recently been cleaned and rehung—ornate chairs and chaise lounges, and the stone archway which led to the airy kitchen, Kira sighed twice more. I'd had quite enough. "Sure it's nothing?"
She waved her hand dismissively as we passed through the cranberry-red double doors and out into the small front courtyard. It was even warmer under the unyielding light of the sun, seeing as there was not a cloud in the sky. I held a hand up over my brow in a somewhat futile attempt to block out some of the brightness. The sunlight seemed to bounce off each and every grey stone neatly arranged over the expanse of the courtyard and within the low walls surrounding it. With a huff, I let my hand fall back down to my side. I nudged Kira with my elbow, giving her a nod of encouragement.
"I just..." she began. Finally. "It's taking too long, all this research. I want to know now." She started off down the stone walkway that led from the courtyard to the paved road below. It was a bit windy over this stretch, and I pulled my hair over my shoulder to try and contain it.
"Trying to get rid of me?" I teased, slowing my stride down the hill as I waited for her to elaborate.
She glanced at me, under the fringe of her bangs, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Never, but I'm getting really impatient. We discover more about the family each day, like little stories, or belongings, or your marriage certificate"—at this I blushed—"but we're still no closer to actually getting you back."
"Maybe because the situation—no, theory—is entirely illogical?" I suggested.
Kira pursed her lips. "Don't you get tired of all this back and forth? You either believe in it or you don't."
"Maybe I would believe in it more if we found some concrete evidence," I shrugged.
"Ah yes, because a four-hundred year old portrait of you that, frankly, should be hanging in a museum, not to mention your own marriage certificate, is not at all concrete-y."
"Concrete-y?" I smirked.
"Anyways," Kira said over me, "I think we should move on to the next step."
"Which is...?" I sighed.
Her eyes began to sparkle again. She hoisted herself onto the bus, up the steps, and plopped down in a seat near the back. Kira hardly waited for me to scooch in next to her before continuing on. "Time travel!" she crooned, and I immediately shushed her, casting a nervous glance about the bus full of our classmates. "Oh relax," she huffed, twiddling with the strap of her bag. "We could be talking about one of those books you read."
"And if we find nothing?" I murmured.
"Only like ten minutes ago, maybe, you were finally giving in. Humor me, please?" she whispered. I sighed, folding my arms over my chest, but I nodded. "Great! Thank you," Kira enthused.
We sat in silence for the rest of the ride, both watching the German countryside fly past us until it faded into the taller urban structures of the city of Bonn. The bus dropped us off at the University, and from there Kira and I started the fifteen minute track to our apartment. Only a few minutes in, though, she stopped in her tracks.
"You know what, I think I'll catch up with you later."
"Where are you going?" I frowned.
She smiled to herself, as if harboring some private joke. "I'd like to drop by the library," she said, wrapping her thin fingers around the strap of her bag. She took a few slow steps back, waving her hand to me in mock-salute. "Don't wait up for dinner!" she called before turning on her heel and heading back towards school.