Canto XXXV

Anne always goes to the aquarium after finals.

She got herself a yearly pass specifically for this purpose, actually. There’s something about the water, about the gentle lightning of the place- it’s soothing. It echoes with old, cherished memories- Sasha and Marcy when she was a kid, the Plantars when she was a teen, Amphibia, Amphibia, Amphibia and its people- and so the very act of stepping in lowers Anne’s stress levels into the abyss. She stares at the exhibits, watch the animals swim and swirl, and the inside of her head turns into white noise. There are no worries, in this place. Only peace, and a soft melancholy.

“Did you know that Moon Jellyfish are the oldest multi-organ animal to exist?”

The voice is a surprise, though Anne’s body is too relaxed to startle. Instead, she blinks, and turns her head.

Someone has sat on the same bench as her. A man (?) in his thirties (?) He sports a bit of a stubble and wears a green skirt, which, #aesthetic. Anne just knows this guy would give Sasha gender envy. The man smiles at her, then looks back to the tank. He doesn’t seem to be expecting a reply, which is what convinces Anne to answer him.

“I did, actually. If I recall correctly, we found fossil evidence that they existed 500 million years ago or something? These little things are sturdier than they look.”

“Man, you know your stuff.” The man glances at her again. “Do you work here or something? Because if yes I think that’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever said.”

“Ah, no, I just come here often.” Anne shakes her head. “That’s the goal, though. I’m trying to become a herpetologist, so I’d like to work into an aquarium at some point.”

“Herpeto…?” The man frowns. Anne expects the usual what’s that? That comes whenever she talks about her career project, but instead the man says: “ἑρπετόν… reptiles? Reptile specialist?”

“Pretty much! I want to study frogs specifically. I just think they’re neat.” She fully turns towards him. “Are you Greek? The way you said herpetón just now made me wonder.”

“Oh, no. I just learned a lot of languages here and there. I travel a lot, you see.” The man chuckles. “I’m no longer fluent in ancient Greek and whatnot, but I still know enough to guess the meaning of words based on their etymology.”

Damn, fluent in ancient Greek? That’s some dedication. Marcy would like this guy. 

“Say, have we met before?” The guy asks. “You feel familiar, but I’m terrible with faces.”

Now that’s something Anne hasn’t been asked in a while. “I showed up on tv once when I was a teen, you probably remember me from then.” That’s her stock answer, and it’s technically not a lie.

The man hums and nods. He seems convinced enough.

“So, what do you do?” Anne says before he can ask any follow-up question. “What kind of job can get you to travel so much? Flight intendent?”

The man snorts. “Nothing so fancy. I just go around and give a hand to people, stuff like that. Sometimes people have issues they can’t speak about to anyone they know. I’m the folk who help them out when that happens.”

“So like… a travelling therapist?” Huh, that’s a concept Sasha should hear of.

“Pretty much!” The man beams. “If you ever need an ear, or some advice, or a hug, and you see me around, don’t hesitate!”

Well, Anne already has her own therapy for the whole Amphibia thing, but she’s not the kind of person to turn down an opportunity when she sees one. “I could use a hug. College sucks, my guy. We’re all touch starved as hell.”

The man extends his arms wide open, smiling. He doesn’t move though, leaving Anne full agency as to whether or not she wants to commit. That is nice of him. Anne still hugs him, though, because on god that final sucked.

“Thanks dude.” She pats his back. “I needed that.”

“Anytime.” He hugs her back. “… You have a strange heartbeat, young lady.”

Ah, he noticed? This man has keen ears. “My heart is on the wrong side of my chest,” she says. Also a stock answer. Also not technically a lie. “It’s a medical condition. It’s pretty benign, though-”

The man pulls away from the hug.

It’s a sudden movement. Anne startles in surprise. The man keeps both hands on Anne’s shoulders. His gaze goes up, down, then up again.

“Wh-”

“You’re a reflection.”

This is not a question. This is not an accusation. The man’s voice is soft and quiet, his face is free of any judgement whatsoever, and Anne panics. 

Her closed fist collides with his face. The man flies off the bench and falls onto the floor.

“How- what- why-” he knows. He knows. He knows. The one thing Anne had sworn she would take to her grave the one thing she hadn’t told even her friends even her parents even her therapist he knows.

The man barely seems to register her blow at all. He sits up, transfixed by her. “You’re of the Moon. That’s what you felt familiar. There’s moondust all over you. You’re like me. You’re a reflection.”

“You- How?!” Anne wraps her arms around herself. She’s trembling all over. She’s can’t breathe. She can’t fucking breathe. “How do you know that?! Who the fuck are you?!”

For a few seconds, neither of their speak. Anne glance to the left. The corridor is empty. If need be, she can run.

Eventually, the man moves. His gestures are slow, deliberate. As if he were afraid to scare a shy animal. He gets on one knee, and rests his arms on his other leg.

“My name,” There is something wrong with his eyes. Anne hadn’t noticed earlier, hadn’t paid that much attention to him- but his irises are curved on one side. Like an orange someone might have bit in. Or a crescent Moon. “is Estout. You might also know me as Ainstulf, or Astolfo. I was one of the paladin of Charlemagne, a long time ago.”

The name rings a bell. An absurd, stupid bell. “Astolfo? Like the anime guy?”

The man is visibly taken aback by her comment. “They made an anime about me?”

“I think? I don’t… I didn’t watch it.” What the fuck is going on. What the fuck is going on. “I know there’s a lot of porn, though.”

Estout blinks. Once. Twice. 

Then he bursts out laughing.

“Sorry, sorry!” He manages between two laughs. “I’m- really? That’s the first thing you thought of? Really? I’m flattered this is how they keep my legend going!”

Strangely enough, the laughter calms Anne down a little. The panic is still clawing at her throat, but it’s hard to keep the fight-or-flight tension considering how surreal the whole situation is.

“Okay. Oookay.” She takes a deep breath. “You are… some guy from medieval France. Apparently.”

Estout nods. “Basically.”

“And you know about…” she can’t say it. “Me? How?”

The man clicks his tongue. “Long story made very short,” he says, “I caught a divine disease a long time ago, and it tied my existence to the Moon. The Moon’s nature is to [reflect.]” He emphasizes the last word strangely. “You felt familiar to me. When I realized your heart was mirrored, I put two and two together.”

Anne giggles. The sound borders on hysterics. “That barely made any sense.”

“It’s a very long and very complicated story.” He nods. “As I’m sure yours is.”

“Eh, not really.” Anne shrugs. The mundanity of the gesture grounds her. “There once was this girl, right? Anne Boonchuy. She fought a Moon and saved a world, but it killed her in the process. I was made to replace her. An exact copy, down to the memories… save for the whole, mirrored thing.”

Estout’s eyebrows rise through the story. Still, at the end, he only nods as he gets up.

“You know,” Anne says very quietly, “you’re the first person I tell that to.”

“Really?” Estout walks to sit back on the bench again. “How come?”

Anne shrugs. “I don’t want people to know I’m… not really the person you love, you know?” She doesn’t look at him. “I don’t want them to know that Anne Boonchuy really died back then. That their daughter and best friend and neighbour is never coming home.”

“But you did come home.” She hears him move on the bench. Though, he does not touch her. “And you are Anne Boonchuy. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I?” She echoes.

“You wear her face. You live her life. Who are you, if not Anne Boonchuy?”

“A thief? An impostor?”

“A gift? A miracle?”

Finally, she turns to face him. Estout is straddling the bench, looking straight at her. “If I am Anne Boonchuy, then who died all these years ago? Who is this ghost haunting my dreams?”

“Time makes killers out of all of us.” Estout replies. “You can only grow so much until it becomes a murder of who you used to be. The person you could have become is long dead, because you’ve changed, because terrible things have warped you into someone unrecognizable from who you were before. It’s okay. It happens. Your own death was just that concept taken to the extreme.”

There is a beat. The lighting shifts as a jellyfish strays by the tank’s edge.

“I’m not sure that is how it works.” She says finally.

“Then how do you think it does?”

“Fuck, I don’t know.” Slowly, Anne pries her fingers away from her arms. Her skin sports the mark of her own nails. She flexes her fingers, then raise her hands to massage her temples. “This whole thing is a mess. I am a mess. How do you do it?”

“Do what?” He tilts his head to the side. He seems genuinely confused, which throws Anne off. Did she misunderstand…?

“Earlier, from your talk about the Moon and all, I thought…” She pauses. Tries to remember his explanation. “Are you the reflection, or the mirror?”

“Oh! You mean that bit.” Estout shakes his head. “I don’t think it’d be of much help to you, but since you’re asking… I don’t know. I don’t remember. And, frankly speaking, I don’t really care.”

… “You don’t care? ”

“Not a single fuck.” He has a small laugh. “I am Estout. I wear his name. I respond to his legend. I am Estout, and have been for a very, very long time.” (How long is that? Anne knows nothing of Charlemagne or his legends. How old could Estout possibly be? Five hundred? Eight hundred? More?) “There is no one left on this Earth who could have known who I used to be, yet alone remember who that was. The world has moved on, and so should I. There is no other choice left for me but to live.”

Anne stares at him for a long time. “Don’t you ever feel… guilt? That you lived, and he didn’t?”

“If his death is what made my life, it would be an insult to do anything but to live that life at its fullest.” He replies. “I am his last gift to the world. I am the last remaining proof that he existed at all, that he mattered at all. History has forgotten his name and his face, but so long as I am here, it cannot pretend he never lived.”

“Sorry.” He smiles sadly. “I don’t think my way of dealing with things would help you.”

“No, no, I think it does. A bit?” Anne shakes her head. “I don’t know. You gave me a lot to think about, if nothing else.”

“That’s good to hear.” He nods, then gets off the bench. “Though, for the record… you’re a woman because you wanted to be one, right? I think you can be Anne Boonchuy, if that’s who you want to be.”

In one hand, Anne wants to scream. It’s not that easy. It cannot be that easy. Centuries worth of people have argued over Theseus’s boat, over whether or not it’s still the same ship once you’ve replaced all the planks.

On the other hand… She likes this way of looking at things. 

“Thanks, dude.” She turns to look at the tank. The jellyfish are still swimming, unaware of the of the rollercoaster of emotions she just went through. “I think I’m gonna stay here for a while. Will I see you again?”

“Oh, probably. The world isn’t that big. We’re bound to run into one another eventually.” He dusts his skirt. “Though I don’t think I’ll recognize you when we do, so apologies in advance for that. I have a terrible memory, I’m afraid.”

Anne quirks up an eyebrow. “That bad?”

Estout point a finger to the ceiling. “I left my sanity on the Moon. It has its upsides and its downsides.”

Wow, that made no sense whatsoever. Anne really needs to look up the guy. Maybe google will have better answers for her. In the meantime, she nods. “Gotcha. Take care then, Moon guy.”

“Likewise.” He does a little bow. “Take care, aquarium girl. I hope that by the next time we meet, you’ll have figured out who you are.”

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