Day 716

When she went to London's National Portrait Gallery she found herself in the Tudor and Elizabethan section.

Literally.

Her own face stared back at her - painted in 1492 according to the sign. It wasn't like the portrait looked similar to her, it was her. From the way her nose crinkled when she smiled too wide to the blonde highlights in her hair and even the faintest glimpse of the tattoo she had by the base of her neck, peeking out through layers of beads.

The longer she stared at the painting, the more people began to stare at her and mutter about how similar they looked. A few even took photos, commenting loudly at their shared likeness until she couldn't stand it any more and left the gallery altogether.

Later she tried to fine more information about her portrait, though she'd never heard of the artist before. It was a matter of minutes before a small biography for him popped up, stating how he'd had a brief but successful career until he "developed a madness" and was sent to Bethlem Asylum.

Bedlum, as she soon found.

He'd seemed a perfectly normal man until he began to mutter about impossible things that "were yet to occur" as well as stealing the strangest items. His wife claimed he'd told her he needed them to go back to his time. From that remark it took mere days for him to be locked up and only a month before he passed away from "his madness".

She wondered if he really had been mad and why there were no portraits of him despite his apparent success. The need to see what he looked like, if she currently knew him, consumed her. For months on end she scoured the internet and libraries across Europe in the hopes of finding just one single depiction of the man from today who'd painted her six hundred years ago.

Ten months later she had success, an amateur portrait done by a friend of his that had worked its way into a small museum in Romania.

Three weeks, three days and three hours later she was finally there to see his face as close to in person as she could get.

All this time for one single painting that showed a face she could never forget, one she'd known all her life and one who had allegedly died in Iraq several years earlier.

So this is why his body had never been recovered.