Your limited powers allow you to catch glimpses into people's memories. Usually you see major events like weddings and graduations. You saw his coronation as king of a nation you've never heard of.
An incredible new world
The vivid images washed over my mind. The crown being placed atop his head, the thousands of admiring subjects. Yargrath cheered on their king. I looked at him in awe as the vision faded and I was left with the unassuming man staring out the window of the train.
"Who--" I swallowed as he turned to look at me. "Who are you?"
He blinked a few times and yawned.
"Sorry, were you talking to me? I was zoned out there," he apologized.
"Your name? Who are you?" I asked again. Of all the flashes of memories I had seen, none had been so dreamlike as what I had just witnessed. He was a grand spectacle in his memory.
"Oh, I'm Tim," he said, smiling. "Nice to meet you, what's your name?"
"I'm Rand," I answered him, looking him over. Nothing about him betrayed his status. "What do you do?"
"Oh, I'm an accountant," he said, shrugging. He rummaged through a pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to me. Tim Worchester.
"That's... cool," I said, perusing the card. "Where are you from?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the card and trying not to sound too eager.
He didn't respond. I raised my eyes. He was looking out the window again, aimlessly. The memories flitted past me again. The crown placed on his head. This time he was six feet tall and incredibly muscular, which I wouldn't have guessed based on the scrawny looking physique of the man sitting in front of me.
I cleared my throat.
"Huh? Sorry about that," Tim apologized, scratched the back of his head, yawning again. "What was your question?"
"Where are you from?" I pressed. He was stalling for time! Trying to think of something plausible.
"Oh, I'm from Michigan," he shrugged.
A small hint of a memory came with that admission. He did at one point live in Michigan when he was younger, but I couldn't tell where in the timeline it fit for his coronation at Yargrath.
"What about after Michigan?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," he said, the skin around his eyes tightening slightly as a small frown grew on his face, "do I know you?"
"No, not that I know of," I answered honestly.
"Ummm..." he tugged at his collar, "would you mind giving me that card back?"
I smirked. He was trying to hide any evidence. He was getting wise to the fact I was on to him.
"Why?" I asked, holding it close in front of me and looking over it again.
"Just, um..." he sighed nervously. "Just because?"
I looked up at him and suddenly was slapped in the face by a single powerful word in his most recent memory: STALKER
"Oh!" I yelped, throwing the card back at him. "Oh, no I wasn't... No, I'm not a--Sorry I was just really curious about something I thought I noticed about you, that's all, really!"
"Right," he scratched his arm and hid the business card back in his pocket, not making eye contact with me. He looked up to see how many stops it would be before he got off and frowned nervously.
"I'm not a stalker," I assured him.
"Heh," Tim smiled meekly and looked at the floor intently.
"I just... I was really curious about..." I leaned in close to him. He leaned all the way back into his seat, his pupils shaking.
"Yargrath," I whispered.
"What!?" he hopped in his seat, hitting his head on the ceiling. "How did you know about that?" he asked angrily.
"I uhh... I saw something about it and thought you would know?" I offered, not wanting to tell my secret.
"You freak," he gasped, standing up abruptly.
"What?" I asked, worried I had offended the king.
"I don't know how long you've been stalking me, but I never want to see your face again or I swear I'll call the cops. I'm gonna get you off this train right now! Yargrath," he spat.
"What is Yargrath? Where is it?" I asked, my curiosity overpowering my being mortified.
"It's a fictional place, all right? I daydream about being the king in my own made up kingdom, all right?" he snapped, marching to the other side of the train.
I blinked a few times, then felt a rush of heat enter my cheeks. He was daydreaming so vividly that it looked to me like a memory. My eyes went wide in horror.
I was a creepy stalker.
I looked over my shoulder to see where he had ended up and saw him speaking quickly to a conductor and pointing my way. I slid back down into the seat and began sweating profusely.
Maybe if I looked into the conductor's mind, I might be able to creep him out enough to let me stay on the train.