6th of September 2017

11:37 am

Paris

Staring through the subway window as the lights went by, Lara waited. The wagon was nearly empty. With only a few travelers with her, her senses assaulted by the screeching of the transport, she felt quietly anxious. It had been months since she had gone away from the Croft Manor, and even before that she had started to shy away from social events. Solitude, training, and study had become an enticing routine, one which she didn't relinquish easily.

It wasn't as if she was a social beast to begin with. Aside from a few close friends, the people she knew best had been dead for centuries, and the belongings that didn't got claimed by some successor was in her possession. She was an archaeologist, but also a collector. Her opinions, theories, and reputation had however made her the bane of the community, and she was all too happy to stay away from her "colleagues". She had lived so many things, saw so much, but it was as if the world refused to open itself to new revolutionary knowledge. And she had grown tired of the righteous wailing of their wounded egos.

The feeling seemed mutual, as invitations had stopped soon after a debate about the decline of the Maya turned into a brawl. Since then her contacts with the community had been sparse. That was why the mail she received had been so unexpected.

A few days ago she had been contacted by the Louvre museum who extended to her an invitation to their exhibition on Artemis. A courtesy for her contribution. She had thought about declining, but she was intrigued by the exposition itself. Mythology always fascinated her, and if Greek mythology didn't have the exotic aura of more different cultures, it was still a timeless classic that had nourished her dreams as a little girl. And so she broke away from Croft Manor, if only for a day or two, and headed to France.

She hastily got out at the Palais Royal – Musée du Louvre station and headed for the exit, toward fresher air. Wearing a simple hoodie with a backpack, she was blending in nicely with the dirty walls covered in advertisement. At least she was dry. A drizzle had welcomed her at her arrival in train, and from the humidity in the subway, it hadn't stopped all morning. The last time she had been in the capital, it had been under a relentless heat wave. And she had been with Sam. Lara mostly followed her around as they devoured the architecture of the city the day, and the parties at night. Happier, simpler times.

She buried that thought deep inside and just kept moving.

The underground corridors smelled of railway and smoke, like stale metal floating in the air. Cold and humid, only getting colder as she approached the exit.

A whistle made her heart jump.

"You look nice lady! Want to come here and have fun?"

Her french needed work but she recognized the tone of cat callers. Three young adults, leaning on the walls, were watching the few people pass them by. They had chosen her. Her whole body tensed. Just moving on.

"Hey don't ignore us bitch!"

They followed her as she walked. There was just a few people in the corridor. Nobody would help her. The exit felt so far.

One of the boys went right past her and walked backward in front of her, limiting her speed as the other two shadowed her from behind. She was trembling.

"Come on, it's just some fun, don't you want to know us?"

He slowed down. She didn't.

Her feet dashed forward, her hands flew out of her pockets and she threw herself on the boy. His size didn't matter, nor his face, nor his clothes, nor his past, nor his intention. He had his throat exposed and she had a knife. The boy crumbled under her sudden attack, his yell cut off by brutal fist to his windpipe as Lara slithered behind him. In an instant, her blade was on his right eye as he lied down, gasping for air.

"So who's first?" She threatened, staring at the other two still numb with confusion. "Who wants some fun?"

To the first boy's horror, his friends ran away without saying a word, their feet resonating in the long corridor. She was alone with him. As alone as she needed to be. Her fist broke his nose right here and there, and she ran away toward the exit.

She got out. The rain was still gently falling amidst the cars and the centuries old buildings. The smell of asphalt and exhaust gas was overwhelming, forcing its way in her lungs. She took a few steps forward. Grabbed the nearest bollard. And tried to control her shaking.

"Move forward. Move forward. Move forward."

She repeated those words until the tears dried and the chest pain subsided. The rush died away. It only took a few seconds, but she needed to move. To leave that place behind. And she did.

The Louvre Palace was just on the other side of the street.

The new exhibition had attracted a lot of attention, from schools, to tourists, to groups, and it showed outside. The streets were busy with all kinds of people, and considering the time most of them were probably looking for a dry place to eat. The entries must have been crowded since the opening. Thankfully, Lara didn't have to worry about that.

Crossing the street, zigzagging between the cars, she headed straight for the side entrance. From the exterior, it looked like a gigantic wall of columns and windows, but it didn't stood out in this city. Everywhere you looked the buildings were old, from another era, times clashing harmoniously, among the cars and the buses. She always loved when archaeology was alive, and not ruin in some long forgotten place. There was so much to learn just by opening your eyes. So many memories just under your fingers.

The security at Porte Richelieu controlled her invitation while she emptied her backpack for inspection. She only had brought some essentials, clothes, food, first aid kit, papers. She wasn't even sure she'd stay the whole day, but she preferred to be ready. She had to leave her knife and her scissors behind, but that was nothing unexpected. Once everything checked out, and once she crammed in everything back in the backpack, she just asked for the nearest public toilets. They gave her a map.

The museum was very calm at this hour. There were a few families still walking around, lone amateurs visibly lost, the occasional security guard. And nobody in the restroom. A small miracle. Of course her first stop in such a gigantic museum with an exhibit she had been invited too was to be the lavatories, but she did needed some time alone. And so, she sat on the toilet bowl.

And sobbed uncontrollably.

She hadn't expected it, but the Louvre was mesmerizing.

After regaining her composure, the young archaeologist had tentatively walked toward the exhibition, but turned away at the last moment. After all she had all the time in the world, or so she rationalized. And so she wandered in the gigantic museum, absent-mindedly watching the art on the wall. She felt like a ghost walking among masters long gone, their lives, their ambition vibrating through their work. More than a single exhibit, she let herself be permeated by the ambiance.

Walking through time and space, through eras and arts, Lara felt… free. The history of humanity, its souls evolving, changing, adapting, translating from language long dead into a universal, timeless meanings. She loved museums. She had almost forgotten how much. It wasn't too long before she started to get curious about specific works, as their enticing characteristics awoke the storyteller in her. Archaeology, her first professor had revealed to her, is science, discipline, rigor, all in the name stories. Archaeology is about resurrecting the ghosts, giving voice to the silent witnesses, and extend a hand to the people we once were, and could be again.

She never forgot. Even after everything, after all the horrors. She was still the same.

Her feet had led her to a gigantic painting that made her stop dead in her track. The Raft of the Medusa. Before her, a mountain of corpses, stacked upon one another in the middle of the raging sea. A raft, barely more than debris floating, sinking. Already, the survivors had began to die. Their corpses drifting slowly toward the ocean as the living were crying, screaming for help, their hands raised toward the sky. Toward the horizon. But there was nothing. Nothing but the sea, hard as stone. Nothing but death at their door.

"It just draws you in doesn't it?"

The voice was besides her, feminine and sweet. But Lara didn't dare to look away.

"It's the end for them."

"Not for all of them. There were fifteen survivors."

"It's based on a real event?"

"Inspired. Géricault met with survivors, and couldn't let their fate fade away."

"He wanted to tell their story..."

Lara's tone became distant. Silently, she was overwhelmed by her own despair. As if the suffering of those souls lost at sea called to her. She couldn't avert her eyes away from the gaze of one of the men. His back turned from the living, he was holding the body a young man. Was he his son? His brother? His lover? It didn't matter, the man had no more will to live. Frozen in stupor, the man looked away, his eyes wide open, his gaze empty. There was nothing left in him.

"But all is not lost." Said the voice, breaking the spell. "Look at the horizon."

Lara discreetly shuddered and approach the massive painting. Away, far away, a ship could be seen. Miniscule, almost invisible among the waves. Almost an illusion. The survivors were waving at it.

"It can't see them." She said. "There is no way, not at this distance."

"Perhaps, but they have hope."

"A false one?"

"You could choose to believe that. I'd rather see it as a promise of help. Some light before the end."

Lara smiled a bit. She had regained her senses. It was just a painting, open to interpretation. She felt a bit silly, getting all worked up for something as vague and unreliable as art.

"I guess it can be true." She said, turning around. "We see what we want to s-"

Her voice died as she saw her interlocutor. She was tall, one head taller than Lara, draped in a dress of white and gold almost… casually thrown over her shoulders, running along her form in an ethereal cascade. Sleeveless, its simplicity somehow made her impressive muscles irradiate a soft and gentle feeling of power. From one shoulder to the other, a simple band of cloth highlighted the grace of her proportions while elegantly directing the eye to her face. Golden jewellery adorned her, bringing out her fair skin, and eyes of almost shining brown. Her long, dark hair were tied in an intricate dance, freeing her whole visage for all to see.

Lara felt thoroughly inadequate.

With a sweet smile, the giant approached and offered her hand.

"I am Diana Prince, one of the curators of this museum."

"Lara. Croft."

The curator's hand was so warm and firm. A feeling of bliss collided with a wave of embarrassment. She was all too aware of her own rugged appearance, and confused out of her mind that such a person would approach her. Hiding the maelstrom of emotions behind a smile, she bought herself some time to regain her composure.

"Lady Croft? What a coincidence, I was looking for you."

"F-For me?" She smelled of honey and sesame. Lara's composure would have to wait.

"I invited you after all, I wanted to welcome you in person."

"Well that's nice."

A slow, uncomfortable silence fell on both of them. Just enough for Lara's mind to start working again. Diana Prince. She had heard that name before.

"Aren't you… the antique dealer that presided over the restitution of those African artefacts?"

"My, you are well informed. I try not to attract attention. Were you interested in those objects?"

"Well..." She blushed a little. "Not really. You just have a bit of a reputation among art collectors."

In truth, Diana Prince had spread dread among collectors for the past ten years. The first time Lara had heard of her was when she rented a piece of her own collection to the Nigerian National Museum. It had been mentioned that several looted pieces of art had been taken out of collector's hand, alleviating the weight of such rent in their budget. Lara had just switched from adventurer to collector, and was curious of this mysterious figure. Following her trail had been the closest thing she had to an actual work of research, a pass time for sleepless nights. Until recently she had hid perfectly under the radar, but it seemed she had always been there. And the more Lara and others dug up on her, the less they knew.

To have such a monument appear so suddenly… Lara was baffled.

"I hope not to make the situation awkward Lady Croft. It would pain me to spoil your visit."

"No!" she blurted. "Not at all, I'm actually quite fond of your work. You bring people their culture back, it's admirable." She paused a bit too long, under the smiling gaze of the curator. "Most of my findings went to local museums, or heirs of some sort. My collection are made either of gifts or pieces nobody… wants."

During her adventures, she had gathered artefacts that contradicted many archaeological theories, or dipped right in the supernatural. Partially due to her father's reputation, who too was deeply controversial, she had great trouble being taken seriously. Still she refused to use pseudonyms and hide herself, a bold move that had done nothing but bring her open ridicule. Her credibility was a battle she had gave up on. Now she just rented the most mundane of her items, leaving the experts snicker behind her back.

It suddenly occurred to her that Diana may know of her already. She didn't want to leave a bad impression, but before she could open her mouth once more, Diana changed the subject.

"Well then. I will return to my other guests. Your Ladyship is most welcome at my humble exhibit. I would love to enjoy your company a little more."

And she left, leaving Lara with the warm fragrance of her perfume and a view of a back that looked like it had been chiselled in stone. It took several seconds for her to regain her senses. That encounter had been a shock to say the least, one that shook her off her grim attitude. For a moment, she had forgotten all about… well everything.

Behind her, the slow torment of the Draft of the Medusa appealed to her no more.

Perhaps leaving Croft manor had been a good idea after all.

The exhibit started to attract people again. As the day progressed through the afternoon, a new host of visitors started to pour in. Some of them were guests that Diana or the museum had invited. Most however were groups of schoolchildren whom their teachers were struggling with to keep together. It was no small task, the exhibit itself was large, filled with representations of Artemis, from sculptures and antique pottery to most recent adaptations like the ever polarizing Katnis Everdeen, from the Hunger Games.

"She has so many tities!"

An uproar of laughter filled the room as the teachers desperately tried to regain control. Diana smiled. They were looking at Erichthonius Discovered by the Daughters of Cecrops, by Rubens, a painting in which a statue of Artemis was shown to have no less than five breasts. The children could barely contain themselves. Thankfully, a little game of observation, and one of them seeing a statue of a deer focused their attention elsewhere. Managing children was a particular work, and not always an easy one.

"I am so sorry miss Prince," said one of the teachers once the group had migrated. "I hope we're not an inconvenience."

"Of course not. Feel free to promise them some of the cakes if you want to. We distribute them at the exit."

The teacher had an embarrassed smile, and went back to his class, leaving Diana alone amidst the crowd. Her exhibit had started strong, there was an intense professional satisfaction to be had, it was the culmination of months of work. The place was scoured by a bouquet of visitors, from children, to connoisseur, to sponsors. More than that, group reservations had spiked, as the theme of Artemis really attracted attention of all generations. As a curator, it was a resounding success. But her mind was focused elsewhere, as were her eyes.

"You beeped me ma'am?"

A young man made his way beside her. Wearing a suit too tight, borrowed no doubt, and a perpetual dull expression on his face. Ludovic, her assistant. Brilliant, hard worker, inspired, but barely any social awareness. She was convinced he had adopted the buzz cut just because it was simpler to wash.

"Yes, I wanted to ask y- what on earth is that tie?" She remarked, scandalized. And distracted by the greenish rope around her assistant's neck.

"I hu… borrowed it from my brother."

"I'm sure you love your family, but I am beginning to doubt their reciprocity."

"Well it was that or the blue tie."

"The blue suits you!"

"It's bad luck!"

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued.

"Nevermind. I need you to take over."

"Ho?" Ludovic, happy that he was to change subject, couldn't hide his surprise. "I mean, no problem boss but I thought this was your big moment."

"I have nothing to prove, but it can be a great opportunity for you. And besides..." She nodded in the direction of a young lady, perusing the walls, wearing a hoodie and a backpack.

"Is that… Lara Croft?" For once his face showed some form of undecipherable emotion. "I can't believe you invited her after all. I thought I made clear she was a ticking bomb."

"Is that admiration in your voice?"

"Well, she knocked three teeth off Doctor Griffin. Who wouldn't like her."

She made a point never to smile at the misery of others, but she could hardly blame Ludovic's feelings. Griffin was obnoxious, romantic, but convinced to be rational. On of those entitled who superposed their vision over the facts rather than be true to the people he studied. This was also why she was so proud of her apprentice. The world needed more honesty. She left him behind after a simple nod, she had complete confidence he would manage fine without her. And she had a more important mission.

Lady Croft was focused on the description of a tetradrachm, a silver coin of ancient Indo-Greek kingdoms. Her captivation looked so enthusiastic, not like that morbid fascination Diana had saw in her eyes when they first met. It was a good sight, such a young one not even in her thirties and already so passionate. So sure of her way. The Demigoddess wondered what part the human would play in Olympus's plan.

"Hello again Lady Croft." She said with a genuine smile.

"Miss Prince!". Lara was briefly startled, as a thief surprised in the middle of a robbery. "I… was just admiring the collection."

"Anything in particular?"

"Ho, yes." Once again, Lady Croft left a lingering silence before averting her eyes and regaining her composure. "This hu… this tetradrachm. I actually participated in its discovery."

"Really?" Diana smiled "Such a coincidence."

"I was just a student at the time. Sam and I were volunteers for the digging in Pakistan, on the flanks of the Sulaiman mountains. Most students were complaining that we weren't at Punjab or Rawalpindi, but I loved every minute of it. It was such a strange, tensed time. Living in tents, digging day and night, meticulously removing layers upon layers. And the sky was so clear. It was such an adventure… Fred actually found that piece, I just. I didn't think I'd see it again."

Her gaze was absorbed by the coin. As if she wanted to plunge in it, to feel it on her palm and relive old memories. Diana felt that sadness again. For someone so young, Lady Croft sure seemed to have aged prematurely. Ludovic's research had revealed a complex character, moved by great determination. But after some incident nearly five years ago, an expedition that had killed most of their team, she never were the same. Reports were vague, she disappeared for months, not telling anyone of her whereabouts, appearing all over the world. Whatever had happened during that incident, it had changed her forever.

"Ho sorry", Lady croft whispered, flustered. "I didn't mean to be overbearing."

"Not at all. It was beautiful."

The young woman smiled shyly. Diana found her interesting, a bit of a rogue in the community, unconventional, but with passion. Still, what made her special in the eyes of Hermes?

"How about we skim over the rest of the collection your Ladyship?" Diana continued. "There are some pieces I would like you to see."

"...all that because her brother Apollo was Patron of Troy. How could Homer use the Goddess Artemis, the patron of wildlife, goddess of the hunt, the untameable one, and made her side in a conflict between cities? And how come her greatest contribution is getting beat up by Hera like an unruly child?"

"Perhaps the Gods were meant to represent human action? Some scholar believes that Artemis's intervention was an image to repres-"

"To represent the conflict between the eastern and the western parts of a common civilization, I know, but come on! Not only Homer have her humiliated, but he makes her literally cry to Zeus. That's… That's such a betrayal!"

Lady Croft gulped her glass of water, preparing for another onslaught of indignation.

Hours had gone by in the museum, and the vast exhibit was more than enough to sustain a conversation between the two women. It turned out that the young archaeologist was of a rather introvert nature, as Diana had led most of the discussion at first. As they went from artefacts to artefacts, they painted together an image of Artemis, of what she represented, of what she meant. The young lady was reserved at first, but an eagerness was boiling just beneath the surface.

It only took some excerpt from the Homer's Iliad to untie her tongue, and since then she had been insatiable. Soon, she began to rant about how Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks was actually a villain who tried to sacrifice her daughter to appease Artemis, only to provoke her even more. And how Artemis saved the daughter, as she was protector of women and girls above all. Like many, Lady Croft seemed to see Artemis as this sort of role model, but unlike most she didn't talk about her as if it was a statue. She spoke of gods, of legends, of civilizations as if they were still alive, not mere remnants from which to take inspiration. As her speech went on, Diana felt as if she was talking to an amazon of her childhood. For all their goodwill, most people talked about the past as if it was dead. Not her. As Lady Croft continued, she reminded Diana of a time more pure.

This line of thought created a shadow over the Demigoddesse's mind. Despite the true pleasure she had talking to Lady Croft, she could not shake the feeling she was lying by omission. Their interaction was not fortuitous, and it started as a way to trick the woman into revealing her link to the Olympus. This had been professional.

Yet, as their conversation prolonged into the evening, Diana had found her more and more endearing. And the greater that feeling grew, the greater the shame was for having used false pretexts. Her ways had always been direct and honest, even her secret identity had been less a matter of lies, and more a matter of discretion.

"I'm sorry… I… I haven't talk like this in a while."

Without realizing it, Diana had been distracted by her own thoughts.

"Ho no, it's me who apologize Lady croft," Diana replied, putting her hand on the Lady's shoulder. "I am glad to have made your acquaintance. I wish my work brought me closer to people as invested as you."

"You flatter me" Lara answered, blushing away.

She was adorable. The Demigoddess wished she would have learned sooner of her, perhaps take her under her wing. Her boldness and erudition made her a free spirit, eager to learn and to explore. Even her outfit, practical and simple, reminded her of the early archaeologists, in a time where it was less a science and more a daring adventure between bandits and tomb raiders. As her hand lingered on the young one's shoulder, she noticed a light coming out of her hoodie.

"Lady Croft, I think your phone is ringing."

"What? Ho no!"

Snapping away from the curator, she took her phone out and unlocked it. Over her shoulder, Diana noticed missed several alarms from 17h to the present hour. According to the clock, their conversation had led them far past 20h, indeed the exhibit would soon close. Time had just flew by. Whatever news Lady Croft had learned, it had stricken down her good mood.

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave miss Prince."

"An emergency?"

"No. Well, I didn't plan on staying in Paris for the night so I didn't book any hotel. I'll have to take the train back to London."

For reasons Diana could not guess, Lady Croft seemed unable to consider returning the next day as she did this morning. Or perhaps she too suffered to interrupt their conversation. A selfish thought perhaps.

"You need not go."

"I'm afraid it's a bit late to book a hotel," she sadly answered "and it's not like I brought a car with me."

"I meant to invite you to dinner in my home, and welcome you for the night."

Lady Croft was stunned, a shadow of suspicion in her eyes.

"That's… very generous, really but I wouldn't want to… I mean..."

"I realize I am very forthright, and I do not wish to-"

"No it's alright." Interrupted the young lady. "I would love to, actually."

Perhaps it was because she truly enjoyed her company, perhaps it was the small bitterness of guilt she felt over her initial agenda. But as Diana looked upon the radiant yet shy face of Lady Croft, the reasons didn't matter. She wouldn't let the night die so soon.