Ranger's Roundhouse

Mirror to the Past

(read Journey for the Lost first! :)

"Trial 02," the old man began, peering over his glasses at the small girl at his feet.

"Yetsir?" She tossed her head back to gaze up at him, dark ringlets — almost dark as her eyes — framing her round, pearly-toothed face.

The man frowned severely in response. "Yes, Sir," he growled, stressing the clear pronunciation, and she nodded glumly, lowering her gaze.

"Apologies, Sir."

He made no response and sat comfortably back in his chair, fingering the thick book in his lap as he inhaled a cloud of fragrance from his pipe. The girl continued to watch him expectantly.

"I suppose," he began slowly, almost reluctantly, "I had better give you a faux name in case of... discovery."

His thick brows joined in a disapproving line as the little girl's expression remained blank. "What now?" he growled.

"Name, Sir?" she queried, innocent voice subdued and a little apprehensive. "What's that?"

"Come now, Trial 02, surely you're not so dull as that!" Removing his pipe, he jabbed it viciously in the direction of the book clasped between her chubby fingers. "What are you reading? What's it about?"

"Peter Pan, Sir; Peter Pan and Wendy and John and Michael and the Lost —"

"Yes, yes, that's quite enough," he interrupted harshly, waving his pipe. "My point is, Wendy and Peter Pan and John and Michael are all names. And you need one."

"But I have one, Sir," she said softly. "I thought I was Trial 02?"

"Indeed," he grunted, taking a breath of smoke once more, "and that's all you'll ever be to me, girl. But if I'm busted, and you still don't have a name, the entire country will be outraged."

She watched him, hugging her small legs comfortably to her chest, strange new thoughts and feelings swirling in her mind like a hurricane of bewilderment.

What did busted mean? Who, or what, wanted to busted him anyway? And what did he mean by implying that 'Trial 02' might not be acceptable — after all, who else was there to hear it?

In her books there were other people in the world, but she had never seen any evidence to prove that that was accurate in real life.

He had often puzzled her over the three years she had been alive, but never as badly as this.

"Mm. I have it," the old man said finally, leaning comfortably back in his chair and nibbling his pipe approvingly. You'll need all the strength you have. I think it fits. Kaia."