Au Vin
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 13201
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Stacy and Natalia were most of the way through the meal, and more than
halfway through the bottle of wine. Stacy had, at first, entertained the
notion that the wine would loosen Nat up, and she could find out more
about her past. However, she was almost to the point where she didn't care anymore. The wine had brought a pleasant flush to her cheeks, and she felt more relaxed and jovial than she had in the past few days. She looked to Natalia, then giggled, and Nat laughed in response. Then, she became strangely wistful, and began to murmur, only half to herself. "Où est la très sage Helloïs, Pour qui fut chastré, puis moyne Pierre Esbaillart a Saint Denis? Pour son amour ot cest essoyne. Semblablement ou est la royne Qui commanda que Buridan Fust gecte en ung sac en Saine? Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?" Stacy trailed off, and Natalia's eyes widened in shock. "Stacy, we've got to get you out of here. I'm calling a cab." "Pro Deo amur," Stacy protested, but Natalia quickly took care of the check and led her out of the restaurant, hailing a taxi. As they rode back to the loft, Stacy continued to murmur to herself as Natalia looked on with a worried expression. "La pluye nous a buez et lavez, Et le soleil dessechiez et noircis; Pies, corbeaulx nous ont les yeux cavez, Et arrachié la barbe et les sourcis. Jamis nul temps nous ne sommes assis; Puis ça, puis la, comme le vent varie, A son plaisir sans cesser nous charie, Plus becquetez d'oyseaulx que dez a couldre. Ne soiez donc de nostre confrarie; Mais priez Dieu que tous nous veuille absouldre!" Reaching the loft again, Natalia cared for Stacy, giving her coffee and a small amount of food. Gradually, Stacy's senses returned to her, and she was able to speak properly again. "Nat...I don't know what came over me. Hell, I don't even know what I was saying..." "Stacy, neither do I. I studied some French, but what you said even goes beyond that. It seemed...archaic somehow. Some of the words were different?" Stacy sighed. "Medieval French. It must have been Medieval French. If only I knew why I slipped into it." "Yeah, that is strange. Most of the time people only slip into a language when drunk if they're a native speaker..." With that, Natalia trailed off, seemingly catching herself as she realized something. "What, Nat?" "Nothing, Stacy. Just remembering something. You should probably get some sleep..." Nat then helped Stacy over to her room and out of her clothes gently, lingering somewhat, then thinking better of it as she eased Stacy into a nightgown and tucked her in. Stacy was asleep within minutes. Stacy awoke with a muzzy head and vague pains in her joints, and puzzled over the events of the previous day. The odd visions, almost flashbacks, the speaking in Medieval French, it all traced back to Anastasia, the woman on the scroll who shared her face. What Stacy was beginning to worry, though, was that they shared more than that. Was she somehow a descendant of Anastasia? Was there an odd ancestral memory here? Could it be yet stranger than that? Could she actually be Anastasia?. Dwelling on that final question sent a disturbing shiver through Stacy, as if someone had walked on her grave, and she got a brief flash of an image. She was in a tomb, laid upon a bier, dressed in armor. Her eyes snapped open as she lay on the stone, and were greeted by a younger man, dressed in modern clothes, muttering something over her. Stacy choked back the vision forcibly, not wanting to see anything more, and collected herself. As many unanswered questions as there were, her friend Natalia had gone out on a limb yesterday in her declaration of love, and Stacy didn't want her to feel that it was in vain...
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The Traveler
9/18/2000 8:47:55 AM
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