Chapter Eighteen: Hercules's Brave Part One

It had never crossed my mind that I would ever meet this girl again. On that first night, I was mesmerized when I first saw her soaring in front of the full moon. A teacher I once knew had said that we, boys, would sometimes do stupid things for a girl. I, for one, ran an entire section of a castle wall just to check her out. She was even more beautiful at a close distance; crystal-blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, and red freckles on cheeks resembled autumn leaves. Now that I got one last glimpse of her, it was time to leave.

I did understand why my heart right now was hammering like crazy, but for me to go and talk to her was impossible for two reasons. One, I had zero experience in making the first move to woo a girl; I even stuttered when I got nervous. Two, by the looks from her sad eyes staring at the moons, something must’ve happened that made her unhappy.

Deciding to leave her alone, I tiptoed my way back toward the entrance.

“Hello.” As I whirled around, she already caught sight of me.

“Um, h-hi,” I stammered. “I w-w-as just leaving. S-sorry to bother you.”

“No, no, please stay. I really could use a company right now.”

“Company?” I was right. She did have some personal problems. Since she asked me to stay, my conscience told me not to leave, so I agreed with a nod. To give her some space, we were two crenels away from each other, but I couldn’t muster up to say anything. There was a long silence between us.

“Ugh, this is frustrating!”

I got startled when the rainbow-haired girl began flailing her feet and fists in the air.

“Sorry, I got into a fight with my boyfriend.”

She had a boyfriend, good to know. My throbbing heart and nerves went down to my relief.

“He said I was too perfect,” she complained. “He said he could never keep up with me.” She then looked straight at me, raising her voice in anger, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Perplexed, I got nothing to say. I didn’t even know the details of their quarrel.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized again. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Well, the whole boyfriend part. That I understand.”

“Right, but I’m….” She paused, clenching her fist before releasing them along with her sigh of frustration. “I don’t know what I’m going to do before I could face him again. I just need to get away from everyone.”

Ah, I got what she meant. “You want to go somewhere where you can clear your head.”

“Exactly, somewhere I can distract myself. Somewhere I can be me again.”

“And to have fun?”

“Right, you’ve been through this before, have you?”

“Um, it’s a different problem.”

“Oh.” She paused again. “Perhaps, you could recommend a place where, you know — to have fun.”

“I wish I could.” I shrugged. “But I’m a newcomer. I’ve only been here for over a month.”

“A newcomer,” she gasped. “Are you from the Twenty-First Century?” The moment I nodded, she excitedly flew in front of me. “Is it true your horseless carriage can fly? Is it true your iron towers had finally reached the stars? How did your cities manage to harness the power of the sun…?”

Wave after wave, question after question, she didn’t give me a moment to answer. She stood so close, our noses almost touching each other; when her twinkling crystal-blue eyes locked into mine, my pulses sped up again. What happened to her being sad and all?

The rainbow-haired girl blinked. “Sorry, I haven’t talked to a newcomer for a long time. I’m from Eighteenth-Century Denmark. Whenever I hear that Earth has become more and more futuristic, I get excited to learn more about them.”

She flew back on top of a merlon, overlooking the city’s nightlife in amazement.

“Look at what your people from your era have given to this world. Iron towers, horseless carriages, light bulbs, and this thing —” She pulled out a pink phone from her pocket. “I had a hard time on how to use this. But once I master it, I feel like I’m looking at a window from another world.” She blinked again. “By the way, do you have other places for you to go?”

I shook my head. “Not at this moment, but I could leave if you want me to.”

“No, no, please stay,” she pleaded. “Tell me everything about your timeline.”

After a brief pondering, I shrugged. “Sure, but only if you tell me about yours. I always wanted to know what’s like in the Eighteenth Century.”

“Sure.” She grinned. “I’m Marseille Thorkellson, by the way.”

“Sam, Sam Roche.” I sat on a merlon next to her.

It had been a long time since I opened up to someone. Marseille and I kept talking and talking, not caring if an hour or two had passed or the people spying on us somewhere. We had such a good time sharing the windows of our timelines that we almost forgot our problems from earlier.

“Hang on,” Marseille began, “how did you get into Rad’s par-tay? It’ll take newcomers like you several months to save enough money just to buy one ticket.”

Dang, glad we all got in for free. “H-he invited me. And my friends too.”

“Oh, may I know why you are here? Out in the castle.”

“I just ate,” I lied. “I came out here for some fresh air.”

“But aren’t you going to enjoy the rest of the par-tay?”

Sighing, I mustered up the courage to admit, “I’m not a party-goer. I thought it’d be different if I got friends with me — I was wrong.”

“So we’re the same,” Marseille gasped. “I’m not into these balls either.” She leaped onto her feet and thumped her fist on her chest. “Because I’ve got the blood of an adventurer running through my veins! I’ve no need for those pish-posh snobs with their puffy dresses and their cheeky laughs behind my back, and those — corsets, ugh!” She trembled with a chilling terror. “And those lead makeup, I didn’t realize those can kill you.”

“I get what you mean,” I said. “I learned that from a history book I read.”

For some reason, Marseille was staring at the city, immersed in deep thought. After another long silence, she returned to me with a smile.

“Do you want to get out of this place?”

“What?”