She pressed the heart shaped card towards me, giggling as her little five year old hands wrapped around my fingers. I Love You was written in crayon and pink glitter, surrounded by little hearts. How was I supposed to respond to that? Her dark blue eyes gazed up at me expectantly, smiling.

“Thanks Isabelle.” I muttered weakly and forced a smile as I tucked the card into my breast pocket. Her mother laid her hands upon her tiny shoulders, stroking her fingertips through red locks of hair. She doesn’t want her little girl falling in love with a man bound for war, any more than I do. Not to mention someone five times her age. It’s just a childish crush, we’d reassured ourselves. She’ll forget all about it when I am gone.

“I’ll miss you.” She piped up again, hoping to draw my attention back to her. I hitched the strap of my rifle up higher onto my shoulder and crouched to her level. Her tiny arms loop their way around my neck. Her mother watched absently as she pressed her sweet lips to my cheek.

“We’ll come visit you when you get back.” Her mother offered kindly, pulling Isabelle back to her side. I rose, fidgeting with my dog tags.

D. Koiya.

Blood type 3.

Battalion six,

Empria Gatria

The marks of war burned in my hand. Neither of us wanted to say it. If I come back.

A sharp whistle permeated the air, the steam locomotive behind me signalling the final boarding. A few straggling soldiers like me where now waving their goodbyes, climbing aboard and waving again out of the open windows. I would have to take my place among them, or be court marshalled. I waved to the two people who had seen me off, my neighbours, and climbed the short steps into my carriage. A young man beside me was singing a war song, but I hadn’t the heart to join in. Isabelle and her mother were still waving at me, but I kept my head down. It would be best if I could get some sleep on this long train ride.

*

“‘A cat came fiddling out of a barn, with a pair of bagpipes under her arm. She could sing nothing but fiddle dee dee, the mouse has married the bumblebee. Pipe, cat; dance, mouse; we'll have a wedding at our good house’ Sing with me! Sing! Sing!”

“Sing with me Kaya! Sing!”

Carefully her hands outstretched, little fingers eager to wrap around the polished wood music box. Slowly, I eased the contraption into her grasp, watching as she balanced it on her tiny palms before folding it against her chest. Skipping along to the lowered coffee table in the middle of the room, she gently laid her treasure down. A little giggle of excitement burst from those rosy lips as the silence fell to a soft melody. The little painted ballerina spun on her pedestal, her little cloth skirt swaying from the motion.

“Look mum! Look what Kay-ya got me!” Her giggles made me smile, mispronouncing my name yet again.

“Don’t forget to thank him.” Her mother reprimanded with a soft click of her tongue, her gaze slow as she turned back to face me. “Thank you Koiya. This is a very thoughtful gift.” Isabelle ran to Lily, clambering up into her lap and laying her arms about her neck, burying her face against the pale skin of her mother’s shoulder. Her mother’s head rolled, dropping to hang at an odd angle.

“I know you have to go soon,” Isabelle’s smile made me smile back. “But stay for cake, please?” She slid from her mother’s lap, scrambling across the living room. A hiss drew my gaze up from her hopeful face, my eyes finding her mother slowly disintegrating. Like acid had been thrown upon her in her sleep. Skin bubbled and sagged, slowly sliding in bulges away from her face, leaving her looking gaunt, but with fat rolls around the neck.

“What’s happening?” That unnerved voice might have been my own. Once human forms of party goers withered and oozed out of chairs, pooling and spreading across the carpet towards me and Isabelle. The sound of bubbling and sizzling reached my ears, the stench of rotting flesh tickling at my gag reflex. Isabelle screamed, clutching at her dress over her heart, pulling it away from her skin. The fabric crackled, smoke issuing from the hem as she was rapidly engulfed in fire. I reached out my arms to hold her, to draw her close to me and hug her to my chest. I would wrap her little body in my arms, and burn with her. But as my touch grazed her arm she let out a choking little sob and crumbled. Falling to dust upon the floor. Her ashes billowed about me, stinging my eyes and choking up my nose. I coughed, scratched at my face, trying to free myself of so much death. The sweet melody of her music box faltered.

*

“You have to wake up.”

“Sod off.” It used to be the response I would get yelled at for. The voice in my mind chuckled warmly.

“You know you do.” My mind’s eye rolled.

“Yeah I know I do. But I’m cosy. Let me just stay here.”

“I can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to save you.”
“Save me from what?”

“From your death.”

It took a while for my drowsy sight to clear, taking in my crisp white surroundings. My stomach churned with a panicked gurgle, my first thoughts flying to the extreme. Hospital room. Heaven. Had I died? I couldn’t remember the first assault on the enemy. In fact I couldn’t remember even leaving the cosy window seat I had acquired on the train. Woozy, I slowly sat up, finding with an increasing relief that my view was rather familiar. My bedroom. But how did I get here? The confusion mounted with each step I took, dragging my toes through the carpet. Shuffling my way down the hall, I let my fingers graze the painted walls, assuring its existence with each touch. I bumped and brushed my knuckles against familiar photo frames, smiling faces peering at me from their lopsided angles.

“Alright, alright, alright! Get in the frame. Squish together, squish!” Half a dozen young men all pressing close, arms slung around their shoulders, amused grins. This had been taken when we were all still in the academy. Carlton, Jimmie. Mason and Yuu. There was Westie and his doppelganger brother crammed in the corner. We were all supposed to be stationed together, fighting side by side. We’d bonded, but I couldn’t recall a single first name. I let my fingers smudge the glass, running my touch across a strange absence in the group.

“Get in the fucking photo Koiya!”

“Keep your shirt on I’m coming!” I remembered that day. I’d handed the camera to a stranger, run around the back of this mound of my friends and hoisted myself up onto their shoulders. I remembered pulling a stupid face. I viewed the hollow between my friends. No black hair or blue eyes, or any of the other features that distinguished me. It was if I was never there.

I moved down this hall of memories, fingers prying picture after picture off the wall, staring and discarding as each one failed to show my face. Glass cracked into the carpet, the last photo of my non-existence slipping from my fear-paralysed fingers. What was happening? I took a quick dash to the bathroom to wash my face, forcing myself to calm down as I peered at my reflection in the mirror. I was still here, wherever here was. It looked like my home, but with the absence of everything that was mine; I must have been mistaken.

Going outside in my sleep wear was unadvised, but as my fingers tugged open the door of my closet I didn’t like my other option much better. My formal uniform, black slacks and brass buttons. Teetering on the edge of my bed I slowly laced my boots with well practiced motions, listening to the slow tick of my bedside clock. Each cog clicked with a steady rhythm, and I found myself inhaling and exhaling to the same beat. The nightmare had started my nerves, but this morning was not doing much better to calm them. I followed the hallways back towards the centre of my house, boots clicking as the carpet gave way to timber. I hadn’t worn this uniform since my graduation, and the stiff pressed lapels felt awkward on my shoulders. There was nothing left to do but suck my gut in, brush my hands down my front and step out that front door.

The world outside looked as it always would have, the cobbled street and the manicured lawn leading to the house stoop. The white wooden fence of my neighbour skirted the edge of my vision. I stepped down from the stoop, watching my toes as I strode across the garden front. I must have stood out, a dark soldier in a green garden, outside a white house. People used to joke to me that I would never be in the army. The drafting agents would have looked at me, called me a short arse and sent me on my way. But with the great battle came the great draw and we all got chosen. Out of habit I brushed my hand down the buttoned front of my jacket, thankful for the cool air.

“Fiddle Dee Dee, the mouse has married the bumble bee... Hmmm, Hmmm... Fiddle Dee Dee.” The tune turned the corners of my lips into a smile; a euphoric little wave of relaxation eased the tension from my spine. I remembered that song. The distracted voice from the other side of the fence wavered into a hum, the words forgotten but the melody remained.

“Lily,” I called, moving towards the fence and gazing down at the seated woman, a potted plant resting on her lap and a small pair of shears in her hand. “Spring gardening?” I rested my elbows on the fence, thankful for a familiar face. My neighbour looked up, dark blue eyes gazing up at me through the veil of unkempt red hair. I started, unsure.

“Excuse me?” That soft voice struck me, my heart jumping to my throat.

“Isabelle.” The woman before me set the plant upon the ground, standing and brushing the apron front covering her dress. Almost cautiously she approached the fence, narrowed eyes looking me up and down.

“Have we met before?”

“I’m Koiya. Your neighbour. I’ve known you since you were a toddler.” She gave me a flat, sceptical look. I gazed back at her. She was older, not the five year old little girl I had left behind. She had grown into a woman, blossomed in her age. In fact she looked as though she had even surpassed me and yet, there in her eyes was the little girl who had played with me and had shown me how to draw ponies with coloured crayons. “Except,” I tried to amend, “It appears as though I’ve missed a few years.” Even I sounded like I didn’t believe me. It was hard for me to tear my eyes away from her. I couldn’t believe it, watching her stand there. My mouth felt dry.

“There hasn’t been anyone living in that house for years.” She murmured with a disapproving tone, the spitting image of her mother with her hands upon her hips. Isabelle turned, walking away from the fence line.

“Wait!” I darted out the front gate of my lawn, taking long and hurried steps down the footpath to her front gate. She stopped, watching me cautiously. I could see her fingers winding tighter about her gardening shears, white knuckled and tense. I thought it was best to stay where I was.

“What are you wearing?”

“My uniform?”

“Uniform for what?” I looked down at myself, nudging the toes of my boots into the path.

“I’m a soldier, what else would I be?” I suddenly felt self conscious.

“A soldier?” She chuckled. There was the five year old in that one moment of amusement. “There haven’t been any soldiers for generations. No one has fought a war in years.”

The uneasy feeling I had been harbouring rumbled in my stomach. I wanted to turn and run back into my foreign house and tear through the belongings that probably weren’t mine. What world had I woken up in? Like a bad hangover, things were all jumbled. I felt as though I was teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Maybe I’d gone starkers in the war. Isabelle was watching me cautiously now, the shears held slightly raised.

“I’m not crazy,” I exclaimed defensively. “Your mother’s name is Lily. When you were two your father was involved in an accident and you and your mother moved here so you could be looked after while Lily worked. I used to watch you. You loved to draw and make shadow puppets.” I formed my hands into the face of a dog. She watched, her startled concern fading into the confused mask that I had been wearing all morning. “When you were five I gave you a music box for your birthday. You filled it with seashells. A month later I was drafted for the war and you and your mother saw me off on the train.” I touched the pocket of my jacket, amazed to find my fingers brushing the edge of something thin. That little pink heart shaped card, I never thought I would be so glad to have received it. “You gave this to me.” Card outstretched I reached over the fence, showing her the glittering face. Recognition crossed her features, her eyebrows knitting into a deep frown.

“How?” She wanted to know how I had a card she had made years ago.

“All I know is that I just woke up and everything has changed.”

“You’re saying this world is wrong?”

“As far as I’m concerned it is.”

“And who are you to decide what is right and what is wrong?” I wasn’t prepared for that. Isabelle looked affronted, her hands upon her hips and a frown curving her brow. Of course, she saw nothing wrong with this picture. Everything, to her, was as it had always been. How it should have been. But she was wrong, everyone in this world was wrong if they too were holding on to the notion that this was how it was meant to be. Had the whole world simply forgotten?

“Okay, okay.” I murmured hurriedly, trying to prevent her from leaving me. She was also the only connection I had to this world, and I couldn’t let her go. “Maybe I am mistaken, I don’t know. It might turn out that I may not be able to go back to the life I knew, but I would at least like to know what happened.” Isabelle threw her hands up into the air and gave me an incredulous look.

“Nothing happened, Kay-ya.” The name stabbed at my stomach, making me feel homesick. Alone. “There was no war, nothing happened.”

“There was a war.” At least I thought there was. How could I be so sure if I couldn’t remember even participating in the battle? Her confused expression melted into something that mirrored sympathy, and I felt her disbelief.

“Please, Isabelle. You are the only person I know. You’re the only person that would believe me.” I waved her goodbye card over the fence, but she wasn’t looking at it any more. “I need your help.” My throat was tight with anticipation, my life, and my sense of self hanging on her answer. Isabelle turned her blue eyes down and slowly shook her head.

“Go home. I don’t know you.”

The strangeness of my home seemed multiplied now that I had returned from the encounter with my magically aged neighbour. There had been no arguing with her. She’d simply gathered her pot plant and left the front yard, retreating into her home. After a few minutes of yelling at her door I had decided the best option I had was to return to my own place and try and piece together what had happened. Years of my history had vanished over night, but surely there were clues left? I’d torn down the photos that had lined my hallway, creating a pile of memories in the centre of my bed. All the drawers in my bedroom came up empty, the kitchen cupboards in a similar state. Even the dark corners of the attic came up with nothing but cobwebs. The only possessions left to me were the photographs where I no longer resided. But at least they proved that I did exist, at one point in time.

A large explosion made the ground tremble, raining dirt and shrapnel down on our heads. It had been a bad day to begin with; the sky clouded over and rain creating a constant haze. We’d been squatting in knee deep slush, tainted red with the blood of the fallen. There was nothing we could do but wait, hoping that at the moment of our advance the enemy would have stowed their guns and the advantage would be ours. A deep tremor ran the length of my spine, the cold making me convulse. Carlton clapped me on the shoulder, taking a hand off his rifle for the first time since he had woken. It was nice to have a friend by my side, even on the day that we may all die.

I slowly blinked my eyes, feeling the memories of that day fading away, the details slipping from my mind. But I was certain they were memories, there was no way I could imagine that scene. The picture in my hand stared back at me, Carlton looking happy and carefree. He’d died with tears in his eyes. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I couldn’t still the heavy sigh rushing from my lips. My friends. Had they made it through this transition, or were they too gone? Were they dead?

Gun shots whistled through the air, rifles cocking and firing from every direction. It was a little hard to tell which gun was friendly, defending you, and which gun was aiming towards your chest. We’d charged the banks of our trench, running in a mixture of courage and stupidity to dive head long into the bottom of another trench. The air was stale with mud and decaying plants, gun powder choking us. And then the metallic tang of blood. Blood was everywhere, you couldn’t escape it. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t escape it. It was on my clothes, caked upon my fingers and under my nails. It was in his hair as I gently cradled his head to my chest, mourning my friend in silence.

“I think they’re dead.” I covered my mouth with my hand, pinching the inside of my lip with my teeth. My god they were dead. My eyes stung with unshed tears, my throat tight. The only other people who I had shared my life with, they were gone. The only other people, who had been in the same situation that I had been in, were gone. So why the fuck was I still here?

Someone knocked on my door, the loud thunder of knuckles on wood giving me a startling mental image of a bomb shell. Heart momentarily trapped in my throat, I slowly rose from my seat on the floor, wiping my eyes and my nose on my sleeve. Cracking the door open I popped my head around the corner, slowly pulling the door open wide as I saw my neighbour standing there, hands tucked demurely behind her back.

“Hi. Koiya.” Isabelle murmured softly, trying to smile at me despite the frown I was giving her. “I want to say sorry about before.” I was still watching her with a confused slackness in my jaw. How long had I been dreaming?

“Why do you say that?” From behind her back, Isabelle slowly produced a polished wooden box, offering it out towards me. I recognised her birthday present as soon as I had caught sight of the golden hinge. I looked at it, and then back at her. “That’s the box I was talking about.” She nodded slowly, an ashamed smile on her lips.

“I have had this for as long as I can remember. I didn’t remember which birthday I had got it. But I did used to keep shells in it, like you said. I pulled everything out and look.” She put the box in my hands and opened the lid, removing the lining from the bottom. There, carved in the bottom was my birthday wishes.

Happy 5th Birthday Izzy. Hide your treasures here. Love D. K.

“That’s you isn’t it?” I nodded my head, watching as she replaced the lining in the box and closed the lid, relieving it from my outstretched hands. “I remember, your first name is Darien.” I nodded slowly, watching that sweet smile pull softly at her lips. I would be happy to just stand here and watch her smile, finding the relief contagious.

“So do you believe me now?”

“I don’t know, everything you were saying is too far-fetched. How can a whole world be wrong?” I shrugged my shoulders, leaning my weight on the door frame. “But you were right. About me at least. I never told anyone what happened to my father, but you knew. If you were right about that, then you might be right about this too.”

“You seem to be accepting this rather well.” Isabelle lowered her gaze again, giving me a short nod, followed quickly by a sharp shrug.

“I can’t explain it. There have been times where I have thought that something wasn’t quite right, something that should have been different. Like when you feel as though you have lived the same day before.”

“Déjà vu.”

“But stronger than that. I want to see if there really is another world, a world where my father is still alive, or maybe another world where I’m already married with a family.”

“And if that world is worse than this one?” I asked her softly. Isabelle hesitated, brushed a small strand of stray hair out of her face, and fixed her eyes upon mine.

“I’m prepared to take that chance.”

*

“So you’re missing even in your own photographs?” She asked me softly, wandering by my side as we started down the street, ignoring the curious gazes of the people we passed by.

“Yes. That is how I know something is wrong. I remember taking those pictures, and yet I’m nowhere to be seen.” I shrugged my shoulders carelessly, unsure how else to explain it.

“How much to remember of the war?” Gun shots, men screaming and crying out for loved ones. Boots squelching through mud and the scattered remains of friends and enemies. The frantic beat of your own heart, short, sharp breaths.

“Just flashes.” I murmured softly, glancing side long at the woman at my side. “The strongest memories I have were from before I left, you and your mother at the train station waving goodbye.” I smiled despite myself. In hindsight, that had probably been the best day of my life. At that point in time, on the verge of my own destruction I had been presented with two people who had cared to show me how much I was loved. Now all I had was broken memories, and a grown woman giving me the benefit of the doubt out of curiosity and a right feeling that she couldn’t explain. It was better than being alone.

“So where are we going now?” I pointed ahead towards the old building looming on the horizon. The cityscape hadn’t changed at all, the same sparse buildings scattered along the main street. The train station was still in the centre, the low whistle of the incoming locomotives still disturbing nesting birds on the hour.

“We’re going to take the train, go as far as we can.”

“To what end?”

“The only place I can think of is the first barracks. Our ‘base of operations’ for the war.” Isabelle cast me a concerned look, but nodded politely. “If there is some evidence there, then we can start to understand.” She understood, and graciously bought our train tickets. Since I had no money of my own.

“What do you expect to find there?”

“I don’t know. The barracks. Ammunition. Anything that proves there was a battle. That the war had been erased.”

“A long shot.”

“But the only option we have at the moment.”

“Keep going. You are almost there.”

“And what if I don’t find anything?” I sounded weary, like I had been pulled from sleep and not given the time needed to recover.

“You can’t give up now. The answers are in your reach.”

“I don’t even know what I am looking for.”

“Look for me.”

Isabelle’s hand upon my shoulder jolted me out of my day dream, finding my forehead resting against the cold glass and my eyes unfocussed on my own reflection.

“You were talking in your sleep.” She smiled, an amused little incline to her voice. I smiled back sheepishly, quickly wiping my mouth with the back of my hand in case of drool. “Nothing useful mind you. Just noises.” I nodded my head.

“We’re almost there.” In my sleep the images of the war had been so clear, the first steps I had taken off the train, the dirt pressing under my boot as I wandered toward the barracks. Yuu had been in the line before me, receiving his orders to go to the front line. His smile had faded once he turned his back to our commander, and so had mine.

But as our train slowed and eventually stopped, I found the surrounding grounds to be sparse and disappointing. The ground under foot was gravel, not the freshly turned earth I had been expecting. The large and hurriedly built structure that had been our barracks was no more. I’d even counted my footsteps to the exact spot, and the only thing left were several rusted oil drums.

“Is this was you were looking for?” Isabelle murmured softly, scuffing at the gravel with her toes. I turned over my shoulder, sadly shaking my head.

“It’s gone. It’s all gone. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for.” There was a disinterested hum from behind me, Isabelle kicking her feet along the ground. What had she expected to find? She’d never said that she was unhappy with her life the way it was. Something clicked. I turned quickly on my heel, fixing Isabelle in my gaze. She looked at me and then curiously down at her feet, lifting the hem of her dress a few inches to see what had made the noise. “Isabelle.” I cautioned with a stern tone. She looked up at me, the slow creep of fear making its way across her face.

“What is it?” her voice wavered, unsure.

“It’s a mine. Just, don’t move.” I had to think quickly. As soon as Isabelle shifted her weight the thing would explode and obliterate the only thing I had left in this world.

“At least you found something.” She joked, trying to remain calm. Her hands were clenched into her dress, white knuckled and tense. I could hear her breathing, ragged shallow breaths.

“It’ll be ok, Isabelle.” She forced her gaze to look at me, a little smile on her face.

“I trust you.” Her whisper was lost, her balance on the mine shifting and another loud click echoed between us. I couldn’t even form the words to warn her, the loud roar deafening me. Her scream was cut short and I was pushed back by the blast, cowering like a child at what I had witnessed. A crater was left by the mine, gravel still raining down from where it had been thrown. Isabelle lay a few feet from me, body broken and bleeding. I crawled over on my hands and knees, praying silently that she was alright, that she had missed the most of it. Her dress was singed and black, her skin red raw with burns. She looked so small, like that five year old girl I had left behind. Like the child that had melted in my nightmares. As gently as I could I eased her head into my lap, cringing and crying as even my gentlest touch broke her skin. Her eyes were open, staring past me. Blood matted her red hair to her skin, staining my fingers. This was the war all over again, only this was not supposed to be. If I had only graciously accepted that I was still alive rather than trying to pick out what was wrong she would still be with me! We could have spent time getting to know each other again, talking over that fence, smiling. I’d missed a lot of her life, and I’d wanted to know what she had been doing. Maybe she would smile back at me, and with the age difference between us drastically reduced, perhaps her advances wouldn’t be so bad.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” My voice was barely above a whisper, sobbing. I didn’t want to fight the tears this time, watching my misery fall and mar her tender cheek.

“Actually, it was.” A familiar voice murmured above me, slowly drawing my eyes towards him. “In a manner of speaking.” He was so out of place here, just like I was. He looked far too clean, far too untouched by the world to have been a part of it. His smile was tender as he looked down at the woman in my arms. My fingers curled around air, finding her body slowly fading from me. I clambered to my feet as quickly as I could, lunging forward and grabbing him by the shoulders. He didn’t seem to care about the bloodied handprints I left upon his white shirt, simply smiling at me in a knowing way.

“Who are you?” There was a threatening growl to my voice, surprising even me. He didn’t answer for a time, glancing sidelong at the crater. I turned, wide eyed.

“Koiya,”

“Isabelle!” She stood there in the same spot which had claimed her life, hugging her arms around her body. There was no blood or burnt skin, just a slightly afraid look upon her face. I rushed to her, slipping in the gravel to fling my arms about her shoulders and hug her warmly to my chest. She didn’t resist my affection, taking comfort that I was still there. But how was she here now when only moments ago she had died in my arms?

“I can answer your questions.” The stranger murmured with a bright smile, looking like a man who was pleased to see his gift was enjoyed. Isabelle was real in my arms, and apart from looking shaken, smiled up at me. We laced our fingers together, holding onto each other tightly as we were forced to separate to speak with this stranger.

“I was dead.” Isabelle whispered, clenching hard on my hand. “I remember, I felt it!” The white man nodded his head, clapping his hands together.

“And now you are not. Eerie isn’t it?”

“This isn’t a game. Who are you?” I demanded to know, even if my experiences told me not to look the gift horse in the mouth.

“I am a Keeper.”

“The Keeper?”

“Not the Keeper, simply a Keeper.” He corrected me with a pointed tone.

“And what is it you keep, exactly?” Isabelle interjected, a frown marring her otherwise perfect face.

“I keep the world.” He spread his arms out as if to demonstrate. He wore a constant smile, as if we amused him. In the long run, I supposed we did. He turned to me, advancing forward with a slow, elegant pace. “You remember it, don’t you?” I blinked slowly. “The war. You remember the trenches, the mud.” I felt queasy again, memories flooding back as he spoke, feeling as though I was forced to remember. “Your friends dying, and all the while the enemy still breathing down your neck.” I shuddered involuntarily. Isabelle put a comforting hand on my arm, there for me despite her recent peril.

“I remember. But why doesn’t anyone else remember?” The Keeper nodded to me, pleased with the correct question.

“Because it didn’t happen for everyone else.” Isabelle squeezed my hand tighter, part excitement and part trepidation. “Only you remember the war, the great battle because you are the only one in this world who lived it. Everyone else lead a different path, lived a different history to what you did.” I swallowed thickly, still smelling the burning flesh and metallic tang of blood even though there was no more to be found.

“And how does one person live a different reality to everyone else? Are you saying I made the whole thing up?” I felt my heart clench, momentarily short of breath. Maybe I had gone insane.

“No, you did not make it up. Everything that happened was real, and every other person that was on that battlefield was real. Only, they don’t know it ever happened.” He folded his arms across his stomach, relaxing his weight on one leg. I was waiting for his explanation and he knew it. “We, the Keepers, maintain order in this world by changing things which would cause strife or destruction.” I blinked slowly.

“Like bringing Isabelle back.” The Keeper nodded his head with a childish smile, proud of his work perhaps.

“We can change something as small as making the weather a little warmer, putting a few more people into the world. Or we can alter things much grander, like winding the world back.”

“Back to where?”

“The great war lasted longer than we had ever anticipated, with both sides suffering losses that they could not recuperate from. Industry was destroyed, and with most men gone and dead on the field, population growth had ground to a halt.” For the first time that smile faded. “The land you fought upon was tainted and nothing would ever grow from it again. We decided the war was not necessary to advance your societies, and so we removed it.” I couldn’t get my head around it. These people, whoever they were had the power to govern what should and shouldn’t be. How could I be sure that anything here was real? “Those that participated in the Great War were stripped of those memories and return to society as if nothing had happened. Those who could not be changed were removed for the good of the whole.” I felt his eyes fix on me. “You are so far the only subject to re-emerge from a cleansing.” The very sound of what I had done made me feel like a parasite, a cockroach that refused to die.

“And who are you to decide what is right and what is wrong?” Isabelle’s own words coming out of my mouth. Only I think I sounded angrier. “Instead of wiping the slate clean, why didn’t you help the people rebuild? What gives you the right to change people? What if they were happy the way they were?”

“Personal histories have not been altered Koiya. People do as they would have done, without a war to hinder them. People still get married as they should have; people still die when it is their time. The only thing different was the war.”

“I know your voice.” I interjected, pointedly looking back at the man. “You’re the one who told me to fight.” That grin reappeared upon his face, illuminating his eyes with joy.

“Indeed I did. I had not found a subject before that refused, albeit subconsciously, to be changed. You would not accept the new history we tried imprinting in your brain. By right I should have destroyed you, but your strength kept you tied to this world. Unfinished business perhaps?” He asked me, glancing to Isabelle at my side. The poor girl looked shaken, confronted with the reality that this was not supposed to be the life she was living. So many ‘what ifs’ going through her head. It must have been torture.

“So what? I am your pet experiment?” The Keeper shook his head, still smiling that same smile. “Is that why I am the same age but Isabelle is older?”

“Not at all, you are a remarkable anomaly. But one that could still easily be remedied. Time passes differently for us. While I was trying to remove your memories, years would have gone by. Your now harmonious age compatibilities were purely coincidental.”

“You’re going to take me out?” I released the breath I had been holding when he slowly shook his head, an almost amused smile on his lips.

“We have interfered enough here. We are trying to leave you alone. The others won’t notice that I have left you here, if you stop prying. The world will never know of a war. Even those you may find to have been fighting with you, all their memories are gone. To pry further would only cause disturbance.” I chewed my lip, looking over at Isabelle. She gave me a small smile and shrugged her shoulders. This was the only life she had known. Even though she was now aware a war had been fought here, she still couldn’t remember it. Perhaps it was for the best.

“So I’ll just live here, pretend it never happened?” The white man nodded his head.

“Think of it as a fresh start,” Isabelle was squeezing my hand again, reassuringly this time. “Take this opportunity Koiya. Live another life.”