Chapter Text
"You cannot begin the story with anything other than the accident, can you?"
A rush of emotions followed the revelation, which would have knocked Madeline over if it weren't for the fact that she was sitting. Head down. Minding her coursework. Time didn't stop for her to fully work through all of her thoughts and what-ifs, so in moments like these, she would keel over and let the pangs of... something overwhelm her.
She thought of herself as sensitive. Overtly even. But when given the news that her two strongest ties had to practically be scraped into a gurney, she froze. And then she felt nothing. That hurt her the worst, when she was against Arthur and wondering if she truly did care for her lost family. Did she really when no feelings came up?
Perhaps it was a relief when she did cry. It was a form of release. Arthur always told her to let it all out, and she was making an honest attempt to this time. But she felt pathetic when Arthur matched her tears and then some more. The loss had taken something out of him. Something Madeline couldn't replace. She didn't know how to comfort her father. Step-father? No, now it didn't matter. Now they were only father and daughter.
Madeline walked home from school. Understandably, she wasn't too fond now of being caged into a loud yellow machine barreling down suburban streets. Hands tucked into grey and faded jeans. She used to wear these when going outside to roughhouse with Alfred, the only clothes Arthur would let her get caked with mud. Of course, you couldn't stop her brother from smearing mud down any other article of Madeline's clothing. Though her father did try.
Leaves relented to her boots coming down on them, some even offering a satisfying crunch. The thrill of finding one of these leaves made Madeline seek out more until she had headed off-course. An eye remained on the quiet asphalt she made her way across. Just in case her ears couldn't pick up on that distinctive engine noise. Another leaf fell to her boot's reign of terror. Another crunch.
"Having fun?"
The question made Madeline jump out of her thoughts, her head shooting up to focus her attention on the voice's source. A tall, pale as paper woman, looking in her general direction with a wide grin.
"Who are you?" Madeline asked. Which was funny, she often had that question asked of her.
The figure shrugged, pushing back long and dyed white hair. Definitely a statement. "Maria," she introduced, "You're Madeline, right? Didn't you play in the quarterfinals a week ago?"
Madeline's eyes widened. Already a week? Or has it only been a week? Time was lost to her now, fluctuating constantly at every turn and inquiry. "No, well..." she looked down, "Yes, I was. I had to drop the team though." The Madeline that had been would have told herself to not quit, to continue playing for the team. Alfred would've told her that too. But picking up the hockey stick now was a Herculean task. Never mind actually swinging it. It wouldn't have been fair to the rest of her teammates.
The Madeline and Alfred that had been were gone, anyway.
"Where do I know you from?" Madeline asked. Though Maria was foreign to her, she asked this question anyway to take the pressure off of her. Maybe to keep the other from asking that question.
It worked. Maria was thoroughly surprised and only answered, "Oh, me? I guess I was in marching band?"
"What'd you play?"
"Don't laugh."
Madeline promised she wouldn't to get Maria's answer, "The flute."
"Why would I laugh at that?" Madeline asked, pushing her glasses higher up on her nose, "I've always wanted to play an instrument, but I've never had the time."
Maria gave her a crooked smile, raising a small black box. That must have been the flute, funnily enough. "You have time now, don't you?" she asked.
Though it surprised her, Madeline could admire the boldness. "Well..." her eyes glanced down to a phone screen, texting her father. It took a minute for Arthur to respond.
Of course, you could expect her father to be somewhat worried. She could see a "You'll be back by dinner?" pop up on her screen. Madeline texted him back, promising she would be and that she was only a few minutes from home anyway. That didn't stop Arthur from assuring her she'd be driven home.
It wasn't much of an assurance. Madeline sighed, nodding with a slight tilt to her head, "My dad said it was all right. So... uh, where exactly are we going?"
Then she realized she had tread into Maria's front yard. With only one other place to go. "Inside," Maria said, "The neighbors aren't impressed by my awesome skill just yet."
Madeline couldn't help but laugh. Exactly how Alfred would have put it. She wouldn't word her thought though—what if Maria had no idea who he was?
They both went inside the small home. The entrance was decorated with numerous photographs, a picture showing Maria's stern father juxtaposed by her sticking her tongue out at the camera. There was a separate space on the wall for pictures of Maria's younger brother. Ludwig, so seriously named, did not have a smiling picture. Even still, pictures of him with his father, his brother, and his dog—they were all happy. He didn't need to smile to show it, his eyes were the brightest of all of them.
"Lud's probably the weirdest younger brother you can have, huh?" Maria concluded, "Do you want to head into my room? Dad says that's the only space I should practice in."
Madeline smiled back at the pictures, and then towards Maria, "Let's go."
Not long after they began to walk towards the back of the house, a stern voice called out, "Maria, the door stays open!" Madeline looked at the other girl upon hearing her father. Every rule had a story behind it. It seemed as if that story wasn't going to be told today.
Maria made a big show of elegantly opening her bedroom door. Though from her personality you would expect some mess, the room was clean to the point of her possibly being a neat freak. "After you," Maria said, hurrying them along.
Once Madeline was inside, she could see the bedroom for what it was—Maria's space. It had a corner dedicated to what must have been an expensive PC setup, two monitors and everything. A guitar laid against the closet door. Posters were haphazardly put up against the walls, from bands, video games, and even some anime.
There was an unimaginable list of interests that could be made from this space alone. As if Maria had all the time in the world to pursue and pursue.
"It feels like I stepped right into Alfred's room," Madeline said. His room was much the same. If you replaced the electric guitar with a bookshelf of magazines and fiction. Though sometimes Madeline did catch him with a nonfiction title, mostly war history, Alfred preferred the imaginary by far. He was either outside with his team or inside, talking with large amounts of internet friends.
The reminder that Maria could be anything like him wiped the constant grin off of her face. She looked down, murmuring, "Oh... right. I heard about what happened to him a while back. I didn't want to ask though... Are you all right?" The confident girl she met standing in her front lawn was now something else. Still domineering, a little scary if she was honest, but in an endearing way. Like an overbearing father.
"No," Madeline said, shaking her head. She didn't feel grief in this room. It was nostalgic. Warm. It was sad but carried a new emotion with it. "I'm okay. You should play something." She stepped back to sit on the bed, watching Maria unlatch the box to show her the silver instrument.
Maria smiled down at her flute with some apprehension, saying, "It's only a rental for now... My dad says if I keep up at it, he'll get my own."
"What about that guitar?" Madeline nodded her head towards it. It was painted with streaks of different colors, one of the notable patterns being of a rainbow.
"Oh, I was trying to start a band, actually," Maria looked more excited at that thought, "And flutes aren't exactly rock and roll."
She stood and held the flute in a playing position, taking a breath. Then she seemed to falter and play a scale instead. Several times. Madeline put her hands in her lap, not wanting to interrupt but yearning to signal that the other shouldn't be nervous. Was it nervousness? Maria looked to be warming up, but when it looked like she had a song in mind, she would play another key's scale. Up and down.
Then it changed into something familiar. It made Madeline snort with childish laughter, murmuring, "I know that one!" It was from a cartoon she watched, from her childhood to even now sometimes.
Multicolored eyes—were they red? Blue? Purple even? Those eyes stared back at Madeline, its cool color softened by the warm surroundings. "Yeah, I used to always watch it with Lud when he was little," Maria chuckled, "Or maybe I made him watch it with me? Who knows. He just hates when I play the theme song."
"Alfred was a fanatic when it came to cartoons. I was fine with a toy or two, but he'd be head to toe in merch," Madeline thought about now, about what Arthur was doing. What had come of the toys Alfred had packed into a box as he grew older? Did her father retrieve it then, or did he let it go into the trash? Whose room was he in at this hour?
Maria sighed, "Yeah, I knew him then. I think we only got to know each other through something stupid like anime. You said he's a fanatic, nah, he was a weeb in training."
"No way. He said anime was for kids!" Madeline said. Of course, maybe the guys he played football with would have made fun of him. That was definitely one of the reasons he had thrown all of his childhood artifacts to the side upon entering middle school. Madeline, ever so wanting to distinguish herself from her twin, held on to her giant stuffed bear, her bows, her pigtails...
Maria shrugged and said, "Alfred just... I don't know, he adapted to every group. He hung out with everyone the same, nobody was too weird for him."
"Except Anya," Madeline recounted days of Alfred telling him stories. She didn't need sleep to function, she didn't eat at lunch. She always felt icy. She always knew something you didn't.
Alfred naturally thought she was a vampire.
Madeline would always just roll her eyes.
Maria, however, raised an eyebrow, saying, "No, Alfred used to talk to her. I asked why too. He said apparently he liked her sense of humor."
"Huh..." Madeline froze at the thought. Suppose Alfred never told her about that, only fed her stories of vampires and of the paranormal. Why was that? She wondered if she would have judged him, though knowing she wouldn't have. "Guess there were some things I missed about him."
"Maybe," Maria said, moving to sit by her on the bed, "But hey, it's not a bad thing to learn new stuff about him. Nobody knows everything about someone..." She looked down, then turned to Madeline more directly, "So, if I told you something a little out there, would you judge me?"
And Madeline already knew the answer. She shook her head.
"Good," Maria started to softly explain the story. Every century, a path of water blessed with the power to bridge the present with another world. Visions.
"I think you might want to come see it with me."