Overlady: Attack of the Minions (Thread II)

[EarthScorpion]

Yay, fanart.

And threadmarked with the lovely new way we can put images in the "Media" tab (thank you, @Xon).

 

[Partizan]

Halkeginian inheritance laws in Overlady are rather different on paper than they are in practice.

When it comes down to it, with a very long history of evil bastards murdering good lords, good bastards murdering evil lords, the lord being a cross-dressing woman, low-born peasants turning out to have secret histories as the son of the king and being granted a title, people making their bastards into dukes [1], the low-born heroic adventuring party being granted titles after saving the kingdom from demons, areas of the land being devastated by the Forces of Evil and so new nobles being needed, sections of the aristocracy being wiped out by the Forces of Good and so new nobles being needed...

... well, you should treat the claims of "unbroken legitimate succession all the way back to Brimir" with enough salt to cleanse the Underworld.

In practice, there's a fairly constant inflow of lowborn mages into the nobility, both for political reasons and also for demographic reasons (look, nobles and heroing produce a fairly high attrition rate). Of course, that comes via all kinds of excuses, but it's one of the reasons that no, you're not going to see a sizable and growing population of lowborn mages transforming all of humanity into mages - there's a constant suction into the low nobility.

(also, there's no such thing as genes in this setting, where Blitzhart can have children with basically anything intelligent that has tried to fight him)

And any bastard who wants to press their claim against the von Zerbst estate is going up against Kirche and her siblings, of which there are a lot and they are rather used to their father's illegitimate children trying to murder them. So, you know. Good luck with that.

[1] See - how the de la Vallieres got started.

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Heh...see above statement, about over-education and arrogance.


Although I'm pretty sure that if a bastard just took Kirche to court, her peers would frown on her breaking out the heavy-duty fire spells and incinerating his ass. I'm not actually sure about that, mind you--there are some pretty crazy legal customs out there--but I'm pretty sure that a court case is typically viewed somewhat differently from an attempt on your life.

Actually, given the circumstances you've described, I can't see a scenario where a son would make any difference, inheritance-wise. If the turnover is bad enough to throw off the timeline I presented for the spread of magic-using genes, than you would have to be talking about a better than 25% casualty rate among young nobles and magic users. In such a circumstance, any kind of male dominance of the inheritance laws would logically be willing to acknowledge bastards very easily and readily, if only to ensure that the estate is going to have an heir. You've said yourself that there's a pretty high casualty rate among the nobles and the mages, which would mean that the need for mages would be dire, and ongoing--and what better way to ensure that those mages are available than by incorporating magically capable bastards into the noble families? That tradition is pretty old, you know--it goes back thousands of years, even here on Earth, where there is no evolutionary pressure to produce skilled mages who can hold their own against monsters and other nobles. I can't imagine that they'd be massively more restricted on Halkegina, where you've stated that the casualties have always been pretty heavy.

Basically, the only scenario I could envision where Kirche wouldn't automatically be displaced by any bastard who could prove their parentage would be a scenario where she's the actual, legitimate heir...in which case a legitimate son wouldn't have any impact on the succession.


Also, if you will recall the timeline I gave for commoner mages becoming...well...common, you'd notice that I said it wouldn't start to happen for another 100-200 years. That's the amount of time I estimate will be required, given a 25% casualty rate among the nobility and among mages, for the percentage of the population with magic to rise from around 5% to around 6%. At a guess, when the Louis de la Vallaire was alive, the percentage would be somewhere between 4% and 4.5%. So we're talking very, very, very minor increases in numbers...so far, anyway. At a guess, once the number of mages becomes too much for the nobles to absorb easily, the Church will start getting involved, and soaking up much of the excess population of mages. That would hold off the tide for another 100-200 years, until virtually everybody associated with the church is a mage, before even the Church can no longer hold the increasing number of mages within its ranks. Then, and only then, would mages who are also commoners start to really increase in numbers, at which point the number would start to seem something like a very slow explosion.

Since this would not happen until anywhere from 200 to 400 years in the future, I would suggest that Louise, Henrietta, and almost every other character in the story has a very high likelihood of being dead (of old age, if nothing else) long before that comes to pass.

Mind you, if the casualty rate is less than 25%, than I would expect the process to be much, much faster, but since the calculations I gave earlier assumed that one mage in four would be killed/eaten/incapacitated before they could reproduce, the numbers I gave should be pretty accurate. And yes, I know that, as per standard fantasy conventions, genetics play a minimal part in all this, but I'm ignoring that in favor of an explicable mechanism that would give us a baseline to predict what is actually happening.

Also, because I'm arrogant, and potentially over-educated.

 

[Void spirit]

What if Blitzhart actually got legitimate son.... sure it would break inheritance plans of Kirche and her sisters brothers along with other problems...

But... what is just for sake of irony that one son... can't stand any pain, prefers love to fight, artist, song maker, run instead of fight...

Daughters with traditionally male qualities, son with some traditionally female qualities...

Blitzhart von Zerbst: What did I do wrong?

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p.s.: For that matter he me must be aware of his "sons" being actually daughters. Wasn't Kirche once on adventure with him to steal from some Evil wizard a lamp with genie so she can become male? Except that there was only one wish left, that was used to make sure genie is never free?

 

[Kintty]

I propose that instead of "genetics" we use the term "bloodlines", which basically means the same but doesn't carry that weight of hard science.

I assume that everything capable of reproducing (with Blitzhart, if nothing else) has blood of some sort...

 

[EarthScorpion]

Although I'm pretty sure that if a bastard just took Kirche to court, her peers would frown on her breaking out the heavy-duty fire spells and incinerating his ass. I'm not actually sure about that, mind you--there are some pretty crazy legal customs out there--but I'm pretty sure that a court case is typically viewed somewhat differently from an attempt on your life.

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Okay, uh, I literally have no idea where the hell your casual dismissal of legitimacy is coming from. No, bastards cannot simply butt into the line of inheritance. Even if they resort to forged documents to assert a marriage between their mother and Blitzhart, that a) doesn't work if they're younger than Kirche, b) is an old enough trick that "mysterious children from secret marriages" are treated with extreme scepticism, and c) runs into the issue that the person you're trying to usurp is a mage and therefore will go on a quest to either treacherously betray you or heroically overthrow you.

I am also not sure why you're ignoring male-favouring primogeniture. We know that Tristain does not operate under Salic or semi-Salic law in canon, because it is not a big fucking deal that the Duke de la Valliere lacks a male heir and the heavily female cast does not mention any problems or worries about inheritance - and the royal family passes through the Queen, not Henrietta's father and Henrietta is the crown princess. So women can inherit.

Your assumption that Kirche is not currently the legitimate heir is also completely unfounded. She is. It's just that a younger legitimate brother would take the position. Blitzhart is intellectually aware that his children are in fact daughters, but as far as he's concerned it's an unfortunate birth defect that they can get over by trying hard enough. And he is proud of Kirche, for everything that she's done to overcome happening to be born female. Now, of course, he doesn't know what she gets up to - and believes she womanises rather than manises.

Indeed, you constantly produce words-words-words while ignoring the nature of the universe in question and the fact this is a pastiche of fantasy (also, similarly, there is no such thing as a "magic gene"). You are wrong to ignore the fact that IRL genetics doesn't apply, so producing vast word-counts based around a factually incorrect axiom indicates that this is the wrong thread for this. Because your axioms are wrong and so your "analysis" is worthless.

 

[The17thImmortal]

Blitzhart von Zerbst: What did I do wrong?

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You existed.

 

[.seth]

court? in the show they settled things by duels to the death.

 

[Partizan]

Good heavens, I'm suddenly arguing with the author. WTF?!


Okay, first of all, before I start responding to this, let me make one thing absolutely clear: Earthscorpion is the author. If he says that mages become able to wield magic by spending six hours every day standing on their head, that means that mages get their ability to wield magic by spending six hours every day standing on their head. That's all there is to it.

That said, I do wish he'd at least think about things, before trying to feed the trolls. In hopes of keeping to my diet, and not becoming too fat to move, I'm going to address things point by point here. One of three things will happen when I do: a) I shall expend many, many words to expound upon something that is completely pointless, and has no effect; b) Earthscorpion will calm down, accept that he's become popular enough that his fans no longer always listen to him the first time he says something, and stop trying to feed the trolls, or c) I'll get so much hate that I will actually be in a position to cause somebody to have an aneurysm and die. Since I've never actually managed to accomplish that last, I would like to formally request that I be notified if it happens, so that I can put it on my resume the next time I apply for a job. Hell, maybe I can get a job as a lawyer or something, with a resume feature like that.

Okay, uh, I literally have no idea where the hell your casual dismissal of legitimacy is coming from. No, bastards cannot simply butt into the line of inheritance.

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They have been able to legally inherit in most societies on Earth since the fall of the Roman Empire, especially those in what is now known as the West. In point of fact, if the bastard can prove that he (or she, I suppose, but that's much less common) is older than the oldest legitimate child, he can legally inherit in preference to the oldest legitimate child in England, Scotland, Wales, much of Germany, and much of Scandinavia. It is only under Salic law of inheritance that bastards could be disqualified from inheriting, and even then, there were a set of pretty specific requirements that had to be met before the bastard could be disqualified completely

Now, if you say that they cannot, well, you're the author, and what you say, goes, but I'm not just pulling this from the voices in my head, nor am I ignoring any established practices of legitimacy that I am aware of. If I am incorrect, please tell me where the exceptions to what I am saying comes from, so I can file that away for future use. Since I tend to prefer to take customs in fantasy universes from real life whenever possible, I promise that not only will I not argue, but I will say thank you, I will mean it, and I will ask questions so that I can acquire more information.

That said, for a bastard to prove that he is the legitimate child of somebody, no matter who they were, is no easy matter. This is one of the things that we miss out on, today, due to the existence of quick and easy paternity tests. Back in the time before paternity tests, a bastard trying to prove himself the offspring of another man faced a serious uphill battle, requiring, among other things, documentary evidence of the affair, and/or legal and public acknowledgement of the child as his. There was a LOT of paperwork involved, even back in the days before the invention of the printing press, meaning that, while bastards frequently tried, they were rarely successful, and they generally put forward their claims more in hopes of being paid to go away than for any other reason. On the other hand, I can easily see Blitzhart being dumb enough to create grounds for a very credible claim to be put forward by one of his bastard sons (or daughters), and all it would take would be one or two corrupt clergy before that claim becomes a very credible threat to Kirche's inheritance.

Even if they resort to forged documents to assert a marriage between their mother and Blitzhart,

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If they presented this document, they would not, by definition, be a bastard. In point of fact, Kirche might not be a legitimate heir, and Blitzhart would probably be in serious trouble, since he would have been practicing bigamy, which I believe to have been illegal in most of Europe and the rest of the Western world.

that a) doesn't work if they're younger than Kirche,

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I'm not sure this would have a bearing, unless we're talking about another girl...like, say, Iza-whatsit, the demoness. Who, come to think of it, might be older than Kirche.

b) is an old enough trick that "mysterious children from secret marriages" are treated with extreme scepticism,

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I would think that such a secret marriage would have to be treated as morganatic, which would mean that its offspring would be unable to inherit any title or significant property. I believe that most noble families required careful records-keeping of marriages and even betrothals to defend against just this sort of attack. As you say, it is a VERY old trick, and the legal customs of Europe would appear to have taken note of the practice, and taken steps to avert the danger.

and c) runs into the issue that the person you're trying to usurp is a mage and therefore will go on a quest to either treacherously betray you or heroically overthrow you.

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I'm sorry, what part of the behavior of any of Blitzhart's illegitimate sons that we have seen or heard about to date would seem to indicate that they were burdened with excessive intelligence? Hell, as far as I can tell, von Zerbst intelligence is only really displayed in the females of the family to begin with.

I am also not sure why you're ignoring male-favouring primogeniture.

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Probably because that practice is English law, and the name of Kirche's home nation--Germania--implies that the country would use German inheritance laws. Again, however, you are the author--if you want Germania to use English inheritance law, than Germania uses English inheritance law. I would have assumed that Gallia operated under Salic inheritance laws for much the same reason, had you not said something to the contrary. For which I thank you for the clarification, and will not make an even bigger fool of myself by trying to say that it does.

We know that Tristain

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I have never, in my life, heard of a country, like Germania, that uses another nation's legal practice exclusively in place of its own. So I would not expect Germnanian law to have any effect on Tristainian legal customs, or vice versa. Again, however, this is up to you.

does not operate under Salic or semi-Salic law in canon, because it is not a big fucking deal that the Duke de la Valliere lacks a male heir and the heavily female cast does not mention any problems or worries about inheritance - and the royal family passes through the Queen, not Henrietta's father and Henrietta is the crown princess. So women can inherit.

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Again, this is quite possible under English, German, Scandinavian, old-fashioned Spanish, Byzantine, and many other inheritance laws. Under any of these law systems, Eleanor's inheritance would be quite secure in any case, because the Duke did not father scores of extra children when he was younger. Plus, every indication we had gotten was that he had either a) been an only child, or b) been forced to kill of or otherwise "neutralize" most of his siblings. Under Salic or semi-Salic law, this would mean that Eleanor's husband might or might not inherit--I am unsure which to tell you the truth, and she might not inherit anyway, under Salic law. I honestly don't know what Salic law does to the inheritance in that circumstance, but since Tristania isn't under Salic law, it makes no difference in any case.

Under English law, Eleanor would inherit if there were no male offspring, which there aren't. Under Germanic inheritance laws, it was a little bit more complex, but, again, it was still perfectly legal for Eleanor to inherit everything when her parents died. The original Krupp family fortune, for example, from before they became synonymous with German weapons was made by Madame Krupp, who owned a huge chunk of her native city in her own name, and had inherited quite a significant amount of property from her father, who had no other heirs. If you want, I can look up some other countries' inheritance laws, and elaborate more on the subject, but I'm honestly too lazy to do so unless requested.

Your assumption that Kirche is not currently the legitimate heir is also completely unfounded. She is. It's just that a younger legitimate brother would take the position.

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Again, my apologies. I made the assumption that Germania operated under German inheritance laws, and operated from that assumption. Since you are saying that it doesn't, it doesn't.

Blitzhart is intellectually aware that his children are in fact daughters, but as far as he's concerned it's an unfortunate birth defect that they can get over by trying hard enough. And he is proud of Kirche, for everything that she's done to overcome happening to be born female. Now, of course, he doesn't know what she gets up to - and believes she womanises rather than manises.

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Good God, I was right--he DOES have sons, they just happen to be his daughters.

Indeed, you constantly produce words-words-words

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I will get to this at the end of the post.

while ignoring the nature of the universe in question and the fact this is a pastiche of fantasy (also, similarly, there is no such thing as a "magic gene"). You are wrong to ignore the fact that IRL genetics doesn't apply, so producing vast word-counts based around a factually incorrect axiom indicates that this is the wrong thread for this. Because your axioms are wrong and so your "analysis" is worthless.

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How is magic passed on from parent to child? In the end, it doesn't really matter if it's passed on using genetics, midichlorians, or some other form of conveyance. Heck, you can pass it on using disease if that's what you want. All that matters is that there is some method for passing magic from mother to daughter, or father to son...in which case, there is most likely an existing model for how it would work in the real world. You can ignore that model, if you wish. I wouldn't, but I have a wide variety of reasons for not doing so, starting with how my brain works to create a fantasy-based universe. The models I cited do match the pattern given according to the post from the original Familiar of Zero forum discussing the existence of the Markey tribe, so I reverse engineered the axioms based on how those models were derived. There are certainly a wide variety of other axioms, covering an enormous variety of factors, any one of which could be the basis for transmission of magic from parents to children. Since the axioms used to create the models I was using are incorrect in this universe, than obviously the model is incorrect, as well, and I would very much enjoy seeing what axioms you are using, what model forms the basis for the society you are telling this story about, and how you have used them to build such an internally consistent world. I almost certainly would pick at them, if you posted them, but I would not be trying to argue that you should be using something else, just trying to understand your logic.

I believe that you are using a specific set of axioms, and have something specific in mind, because otherwise you wouldn't have been able to create such an internally consistent story. Plus, if you don't, what I presented matches what you've said in the story as well as anything else I can think of, so there's no reason to get mad. I don't think there is any reason to get mad, anyway, although I could be wrong. I have to admit that, in some ways, I'm a lot more like the Misaka clones than I would prefer, and this is one of them.


Now, because, as Earthscorpion has told me, there are apparently a minimum number of words required before he, or anybody else, will take my posts seriously, I will now continue for another two hundred iterations of words-words-words. I'm not really sure why he feels this to be necessary, but I aim to please. If you skip this part, please tell me, so that I can feel better about my apparently excessive verbiage.


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[Partizan]

I propose that instead of "genetics" we use the term "bloodlines", which basically means the same but doesn't carry that weight of hard science.

I assume that everything capable of reproducing (with Blitzhart, if nothing else) has blood of some sort...

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Fair enough. I shall try to remember to do this in the future. If I don't, please yell at me to change it, and I shall.

 

[Entropy Judge]

Now, because, as Earthscorpion has told me, there are apparently a minimum number of words required before he, or anybody else, will take my posts seriously,

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... What? I mean, I don't want to put words in his mouth, and I don't know if you're referring to some other post, but when I look at post 4030, he seems to be saying that you're writing too many words. This is a fantasy pastiche he's writing, not a legal dissertation (or whatever the proper term is), and you writing two thousand word posts is not particularly helpful. Or fun to read. Or even really relevant to the thread.

 

[Partizan]

I was making fun of Earthscorpion, because his comment irritated me. I am excessively verbose by nature, and finding a way to shorten the posts takes too long. For what it's worth, I typically try to put the important stuff in the first paragraph--if you think I'm taking too long, and don't want to read the rest, just read the first paragraph, and skip the rest. I honestly won't be offended. I promise.

P.S You also might want to skip any post I take point by point. If you're just following the flow of the conversation, and don't want a dissertation, well, those are probably not your thing either.

 

[GhostStalker]

Dude, just stop. This pointless argument (or rather, you trying and failing to convince the author that he is wrong about his own story) is going nowhere, it's getting tiring seeing someone bash their head against ES, and arguing with the author in his own thread (where they do have some position of authority) is just pointless, you aren't going to convince him to change his take on things, especially when that thing is one of the historical underpinnings of his story, albeit a minor one, and just makes you look bad to the rest of the thread as you intellectually circle jerk into the void. Also, I'm pretty sure spaghetti posting is against the rules.

ES clearly has thought hard about the historical ramifications and consequences of what is basically early Renaissance Europe with magic, albeit in a narrative universe where Good and Evil are concrete forces. His worldbuilding is top notch, especially so with stuff he has worked into the flabby background of canon FoZ. See AGSItV, if you want to see another masterful example.

Now I may only be a guy whose only major experience with historical medieval inheritance law is via reading LPs of CK2, but even there, bastards could only inherit via pressing weak claims via war, and never naturally over legitimate children, even if they were legitimized. Sure, game, but even then, common sense dictates that natural children would inherit over bastards, what with their stronger claim to their parent's titles.

And the reputation of Blitzhart 's bastards is well known, or did you forget that the one that was stopped by Kirche, Danny, Guiche, and Monmon was up for a Cabal Award for Best Newcomer alongside Louise as the Overlady, as well as Kirche and Danny making it seem like his bastards try to do this every so often? So yes, if one of his bastards came to try and make a claim on Kirche to usurp her title and inheritance, they'd be rightly seen as someone evil by reputation by the Germanian imperial court and Kirche would be within her right as a triangle ranked fire mage that was attacked to burn their face off.

 

[Void spirit]

And the reputation of Blitzhart 's bastards is well known, or did you forget that the one that was stopped by Kirche, Danny, Guiche, and Monmon was up for a Cabal Award for Best Newcomer alongside Louise as the Overlady, as well as Kirche and Danny making it seem like his bastards try to do this every so often? So yes, if one of his bastards came to try and make a claim, they'd be seen as someone evil by the Germanian imperial court and Kirche would be within her right as a triangle ranked fire mage that was attacked to burn their face off.

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When that Award was being given, since I usually have trouble follwoing names (fast reading) I was at first confused is that really Blitzahart himself as candidate, even while officially Hero. Have seen just similar behaviour.

While he killed is still killing many Evil creatures and humans, he seems to be also strong force for Evil with creating that great army of Evil bastards. I mean, just how often are Kirche and her his sisters brothers attacked?

 

[Arcus]

He popped a cockroach in his mouth, and chewed noisily. "My investigations have confirmed that her sister is indeed resident in Amstreldamme," he said. "I do believe that their reunion may well be… interesting."

"Are that the kind of long pause 'in-ter-est-ing' what you do when you smile all evil like and do that thingie with your handies?" Fettid asked, as she splatted a rat with her feather duster.

"Yes, it is," Gnarl said, rubbing his hands together with evil glee.

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Not so gleeful now, hmm?

 

[Candesce]

he seems to be also strong force for Evil with creating that great army of Evil bastards.

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Not sure we can assume the bastards are, on average, Evil.

I mean, the ones who show up and try to kill all his daughters to seize his title, maybe, but if there's even more who settle down to farm or go heroing themselves...

 

[Rgal]

Not sure we can assume the bastards are, on average, Evil.

I mean, the ones who show up and try to kill all his daughters to seize his title, maybe, but if there's even more who settle down to farm or go heroing themselves...

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Well, have you ever heard about a Good bastard who wasn't a bastard of somebody Evil?
…or a sword.

 

[Alane1]

Well, have you ever heard about a Good bastard who wasn't a bastard of somebody Evil?
…or a sword.

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I don't know they always seem to show up when the ruler gets murdered or betrayed seemly without a heir, its almost like royal families plan it to wreak the day of their enemies just when they thought they won.

 

[SpeckofStardust]

Well, have you ever heard about a Good bastard who wasn't a bastard of somebody Evil?

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This person, Martin Septim

 

[EarthScorpion]

"My dear, you wouldn't believe what happened today! A spectre made itself known to me, a vision of strangeness! Sadly she got away, but she was awfully young and pretty! If only I could have drained her blood. Such a shame. No, no, she wasn't one of my victims. I'd definitely remember whose form preserved their youth that well. "

- Madeline de la Vallière (née Ambracia)

...​

The world rang like a finger on a wine glass. Louise's vision blurred, as if she was spinning very fast while also remaining stationary. Her inner ear protested the feeling of moving without moving, and she sagged and retched.

Lifting her eyes and wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she looked around. The room had been torn in half. She was standing on the stone floor, but ahead of her, where Eleanore had been, there was just a sea of purple light. Across the sea she could see little islands, frozen tableaus of time.

The air felt too thick, and a little bit stale. When she waved her hand through the air, it was like there were unseen cobwebs there.

Eleanore had actually done it. She had shattered time. And for some reason - perhaps because Louise had been close to the ritual - she was in a tiny fragment of the world.

Poor Eleanore. Poor, poor Elenaore. Louise recognised that self-hate. That feeling that maybe the family would be better off if you just… weren't around anymore. For her, it had been because she had been a magic-less failure, a zero, a nothing.

… though if Eleanore was right, that meant she was a mage of the sacred void of Brimir, which was corrupted by evil and what a nightmare that was! She wasn't going to think about that. Not yet.

But her big sister hated herself because she had been sixteen and stupid and tried to kill a vampire - and wound up releasing him. She hadn't meant to, but she had. And everything had gone downhill because of that. That only made Louise more certain that she had to find a way to save her. The evil force within them had probably pushed Louise into trying to prove herself, but Eleanore was being coaxed to be self-destructive.

She had to find her. And quickly. Before Eleanore killed her past self.

Now, what had Mother always told her to do if stuck outside of time due to evil magic?

"Now, remember, Louise, if you find yourself stuck outside of time due to evil magic, always ask yourself why on earth you were such a fool as to let them complete their ritual rather than just killing them. It's always easier to defeat the villain before they finish their dark spell, so don't prevaricate!" the mental image of her mother said.

"Argh! Not useful, Mother!" Louise moaned. "You're right, yes, but that's not helpful now."

She racked her brain for anything else her mother had told her about time. Only kill Germanian tyrants if the history books record them as dying about now, or if they're about to win in the present and this is a last ditch effort to save the world. Never engage in inappropriate behaviour with relatives no matter how attractive they are. Never use your real name. Always make sure that you actually have travelled in time and it's not a prank by the other Manticore Knights who think it'd be funny to pay some peasants to dress up in clothing that's three hundred years out of date and tell you you've been sent into the past by an evil wizard.

Something about that drew her attention. What had it been?. Aha! It had been just after her mother had thumped her father because he'd started sniggering about that prank thing. She… she had said that one of the most reliable ways of navigating these kinds of un-spaces and un-times was following chains of correlation and meaning, hadn't she? Something about there always being a certain logic to this sort of thing, and you just had to work out how things interlinked and hop between the broken moments until you found the right time where you had to be.

What was her plan? One, do not accidentally destroy history. Two, do not deliberately destroy history. Three, stop Eleanore from destroying history. Four, do not die.

Louise reviewed her plan. It seemed solid. She just had to avoid standing on any butterflies while she stopped her sister. And not die, of course.

There were certainly butterflies churning in her stomach as she stepped up to the sea of violet light. She peered at the horizon. One of the islands looked like the de la Vallière estate. That was the right place. She wasn't sure when it was, but that step could come later.

And now that she stepped closer, she could see that there were stepping stones shaped like clocks in the light. Louise swallowed. This promised to be unpleasant. But she couldn't think of a better way.

"Well," she said, breathing into her cupped hands. "Here goes nothing. This better work. Or else..."

And then something heavy and wooden hit her in the back of the leg. Louise toppled forwards and vanished into the ocean of time with a scream.

Something moved in the shadows of the vacated fragmented moment.

Eyes glowing yellow, Ozymandias muttered monkey-ish vulgarities to himself and tossed the broken plank in after Louise.

...​

This was the first war; the dawn war; the greatest war that ever would be.

On one side of the scorched battlefield was a final alliance of the forces of good. A solid core of short, armoured, bearded figures held the centre ground. They were an immovable anvil against which all foes were dashed. Poleaxes rose and fell in unison as they smashed and diced their way through anything which dared attack them. Rune-covered war machines spewed out arrows and razor-sharp blades. Dragons roared overhead, ridden by powerful mages and brave knights, while light footed elves flitted around the flanks, dashing in with deadly magics. Oh, and there were some short people with hairy feet. They were probably doing something helpful, or at least they were going to claim that they had been instrumental to the whole victory when the history books got written.

On the other, the endless hordes of evil. Demons, the undead, the corrupt, orcs - and above all, minions everywhere. Overhead hung Albion, the utterly corrupt birthplace of the dark lord. Through his power he had torn the island into the sky, and it bristled with malign weaponry.

There was a lot more evil than good on this battlefield.

Of course, Louise de la Vallière was not paying much attention to this. She was too busy falling from the sky. Scrabbling through her pockets, hair whipping around her face, she managed to find her wand. The ground was getting awfully close awfully quickly, and the wind was stealing away her breath.

Louise managed to force out a levitation spell. She felt the force drag on her as the magic bled off speed, but the ground was coming up faster than she was slowing down. Fortunately, when she touched down she found that what she had taken for green grass was in fact swamp weed.

She sunk up to the waist. Admittedly, that was less than it would have been for other people, but it was still unpleasant.

And then a plank of wood nearly hit her in the head.

Hissing bowdlerised curse words, Louise dragged herself out of the filthy water. Looking up, she could see a scar of purple light in the sky. Maybe if she…

Louise threw herself down with a squelch as a dragon roared overhead, breathing lightning. The sound of the thunder was an assault on her ears. Okay. Right. She was not going up and out that way, even if she had enough strength to reach that height. Which she didn't.

The battle lines were in constant flux, and minion fireballs were much scarier when they were flying over your head. It wasn't even really a thought to run away from the orcs and minions and towards… elves, she realised with a sinking feeling. She just had to hope that they wouldn't try to kill a human on sight, because she knew minions and not only would they kill her, they would also steal her clothes.

She found herself face to face with a long-eared elf warrior who was falling back. She wasn't entirely sure if they were a boy-elf or a girl-elf, but under the wide-brimmed hat they had gorgeous long red hair and earrings. The elf raised their weapon, but recognition flared in their eyes and they grabbed her hand, yanking her back towards the elf lines.

They pulled her back behind a glowing shield sustained by elf wizards, just before Albion unleashed a barrage of flaming rocks that made the earth shake and filled the air with dust. The elves seemed to suffer from the noise even worse than she did. It must have been the long ears.

Another elf, who she was fairly sure was female judging by the chest region, jabbed her finger at Louise and asked something. The maybe-a-male elf who'd saved her retorted with something which included the words "Markay maga" while pointing at her wand. That seemed to placate the she-elf, and she turned back to the short bearded armoured warrior who was shouting at her.

From the short person's arm gestures and their jabbed fingers up at Albion, things didn't seem to be going well. Louise thought that they wanted to pull back - or possibly they were accusing the elf of wanting to pull back. The elf's tone wasn't helping, and Louise could hear the arrogance dripping from her tone.

Pulling herself to her feet, Louise investigated the elven shield that was holding off the bombardment from Albion. It seemed miraculous, able to reflect even direct hits from the island overhead which blotted out the sun. They were safe in here. But with a sinking feeling, she wasn't sure how long she'd be safe for. The elves sustaining the magic looked exhausted, and they were flinching each time a new rock landed nearby.

Peering through the shimmer, she tried to see if there was anywhere where there was a time rift. She had to get out of here. She didn't want to die here, and she didn't know how much time she had to stop Eleanore. If the concept of time even applied here, which it might not.

There! Though the dust, she could see purple light! Maybe the flaming rocks had damaged time enough that she could get out, or maybe it was just that the waves of enemies ahead of them had been thinned out. The minions had died in vast numbers under the Albionese bombardment, but that wasn't going to stop them; not with blues already hard at work. These idiot elves and shorter-than-hers were wasting the chance to strike back and deny them their resurrections.

Louise chewed her knuckle. She had to get through. Somehow.

Wait. She had a plan. It was probably a stupid plan, but it was that or stay here and risk getting hit by a stray fireball from a red.

...​

Years later, stories would be told of the brave Markay warrior who charged the enemy lines, screaming a berserker battle cry. Though a mere slip of a girl, her bravery was enough to shame those who had been about to flee. No dwarf or elf could be shamed by some pink-haired girl, and they rallied and did not rout, fighting with distinction and honour. She was honoured in song by all who had seen her, although admittedly not for very long in the case of the dwarves. Sadly, though, her body was never found.

The fact that she was screaming "Argh, mustn't destroy the timeline, mustn't destroy the timeline!" as she charged was not recorded, due to the fact that the listening dwarves and elves didn't speak Tristainian.

...​

Unfortunately, the next fragment of time along was no better. The vegetation had concealed that this was another battlefield, but as soon as she stepped into this shard the screams of the dying and the clash of metal filled the air.

Poking her head around the trees, Louise saw that this time it was humans versus the short armoured figures from the last war. The humans had routed and were being cut down where they stood. Clusters of mages tried to stand and fight, but the armoured troops were too well protected even against powerful magics. Their eyes under their helmets were wild, and some were stopping even in the middle of battle to loot the dead. In the rear of their lines, Louise could see big clanking metal war machines, covered in glowing runes - and, apparently, coated in gold and gems.

Swallowing hard, Louise pressed her back against the tree and fought back her urge to help the poor humans out there. She was a hero and wanted to save them - but she couldn't! She mustn't! She'd destroy the timeline if she won. And she'd die if she didn't. She'd probably die. Mages who had to be at least triangle rank were being cut down like firewood by the inexorable advance of the short armoured figures.

But people were dying! Dang it! Dang it! Dang it! Biting her lip so hard it bled, Louise clutched her wand to her chest and wished she could close her ears. The tramp of their metal-clad feet were getting closer and they'd see her for sure if she ran, but she couldn't kill them! Not without changing history!

All the hairs rose on the back of her neck. Black clouds swirled overhead. Louise could taste the dark magic in the air, thick and nauseating.

And then every single short armoured figure on the battlefield dropped dead, wreathed in black lightning. The clatter as they fell was deafening.

No one moved for a long moment.

A ragged cheer rose up from the human survivors. Louise wanted to cheer, but couldn't. She could see the burned skeletons in their armour. The air was so thick with wicked power that she wanted to be sick. Her eyes stung from tears, and she wasn't sure who she was crying for.

...​

Hopping off the final clock-stepping stone, Louise sunk to her knees and gasped for breath. She had nearly died! Those armoured figures had nearly found her. And before that, she'd nearly died on that hellish battlefield! And before that… she gritted her teeth. She couldn't dwell on that. If she started counting all the ways she'd nearly died since she woke up this morning, she'd be here all day.

Louise was feeling more than a little stressed, and needed a brief moment to recollect herself while nothing was trying to kill her.

She patted her chest, feeling her lungs burning. Back on the giant battlefield, those minions hadn't been at all like the ones she knew! Even when her ones were being threatening and dangerous, they still were dumb and goofy. Those minions had been lean, sleek, killing machines. In fact, they had looked like those blort-ing minions that she had made before she'd given up on trying to get the minion hive working. Lord, was that what minions had been made to be like?

Once she had her breath back, Louise slowly eased herself to her feet, hugging onto the cold stone wall. There wasn't very much light in here, and looking behind her she couldn't see any useful other time fragments to get to. They all looked like terrible battles. So she had to find another sea of time and try to find a path back to her own time.

There were voices up ahead. Louise tried to listen in. It sounded Romalian, but it wasn't a dialect she understood. It hovered just at the edge of understanding. There were two voices, a man and a woman, and they were arguing.

There was a taste to the air. A familiar taste she knew too well from her tower. The taste of evil.

Pressing her back against the wall, Louise sneaked closer to the voices. Her clothes were still soaked from the dang swamp, and she was consciously holding off feeling sorry for herself until she wasn't lost in time. Deep red light streamed through a gap ahead of her, and the voices were louder in that direction. Kneeling, she peered through the gap.

There were two people in there. The first of them was a blonde woman, in a sensible brown leather coat, a brightly coloured scarf and a sheathed sword at her hip - except, no! That wasn't a woman, with ears like that! She was an elf!

And the blond man in there wore metal gauntlets. His eyes glowed with a dull yellow light as he looked up at the tower heart next to them. It shone with a faint blue light. This had to be a tower.

Louise swallowed. The metal gloves he wore looked like they were made out of the same metal as the Gauntlet. And on the back of his left hand, four rubies gleamed. Four rubies, where she just had one.

Oh no. No, no, this was some past overlord, some powerful figure of darkness who had acquired both gauntlets and had all four rubies.

She shouldn't watch. She couldn't look away.

The elf shouted at the man, her voice high pitched and shrill. Louise could grasp enough of the almost-Romalian that echoed around the dimly lit tower interior to know that she was angry at him. She was shouting something about stopping him, about how she shouldn't have gone along with this the first time. The word 'Cathay' appeared twice, too. His responses were quiet and even-toned. He sounded like he was justifying himself.

When the elf turned her back on the overlord, Louise could see that she was crying. Fat tears trickled down her cheeks.

He opened the bag beside him, pulling out an ornate helmet made of dark metal. It looked just like the metal that the Gauntlet was made of. Just like the two metal gloves he was wearing. Raising his hands, he lifted the helmet up and placed it upon his head.

And in that moment the elf moved, blade in hand. Her sword glowed with unearthly light. In the blink of an eye she had drawn, cut, and stood, bloodied sword in hand.

The world seemed to pause for a moment.

The man sagged. His right hand hit the ground. His left hand hit the ground. His head hit the ground.

And then his decapitated, armless corpse collapsed. Something rushed out of the body, something cold and dark and barely there at all.

Louise didn't understand what the elf said, but she didn't need to; not to hear the anger and the sorrow in her voice. She turned away from him and walked away, weeping openly. And then the sword started speaking to the elf, the runes on the blade glowing a morbid red through its coating of blood. By the time she reached the exit on the far end of the hall, she was hugging the bloodied blade.

Swallowing, Louise took one last glance at the fallen helmet and gauntlets - plural. So much power there. Gnarl had mentioned those things, and encouraged her to find them.

But no. No. Her will was strong. It was wrong. They were evil. And she was not going to destroy the timeline. The left gauntlet had to eventually find its way to her, so someone else had to find it. And that meant she had to move, because she didn't think she could take an elf-lady as dangerous as that one.

Time to go.

...​

By the twentieth fragment of time, Louise had stopped counting. The entire experience had rather lost its novelty.

A grand city stood before her, armoured knights in shining plate and bright tabards riding out through the main gates. All was sunny and glorious.

The next time fragment was the same city, but now soot streaked the walls and strange infernal machinery pumped out smoke. A clattering of armoured horseless carriages proceeded out, demonic seals on their raised banners. By the next fragment, here was a new lake covering half the ruined city and a vast expanse of land downstream from it. A few leather-clad savages picked their way through the rubble, trying to salvage what they could find. They ran from barbarian horsemen who rode by, wielding savage flails and curved swords. Oh, and look, by the next one they'd built a new town on the shores of the lake where once the old city had been. And pointed hats were in for women this year.

Actually, Louise thought, that looked like it was probably Lake Ragdorian, on the border of Tristain and Gallia. It was about the right shape. Ah ha! She now knew where she was. Which was on completely the wrong side of the country, and she had no idea when she was.

Dang. Time to move on and try to get closer to the capital, maybe. She rubbed her aching thighs. All this jumping around on clock-shaped stepping stones was doing a number on her legs.

Next fragment. The world was dark. Overhead, a blackness blocked out the sun, ringed by a flaming disc. From the architecture in the gloom, Louise thought she was probably in Romalia, in Roma itself. Well, she'd found a capital. Just not the one she was looking for.

"For thousands of years, mankind has dreamed of destroying the sun! But today, I shall go beyond that! I shall exceed the greatest dream of humanity, and I shall devour the sun!" ranted the black-clad pope standing at the entrance to the church, surrounded by scantily clad allegedly-nuns. In their defence, what little they were wearing was black, although rather shinier than was customary for a woman of the cloth.

Hmm, Louise thought wearily. Yes, she knew about when she was as well as where she was.

"It will replace my feeble and decrepit human heart, its power fuelling me and me alone, and through this I shall rule over a blackened world forever!"

At least this had still happened. That was a good thing, probably? It meant time was mostly surviving if things that she knew had happened were still happening.

"I am invincible! I am unstoppable! I am… you know, my left arm is really hurting. I wonder why? Oh well. Today is the day of my ultim…"

And she was gone.

Far too many crossings of the sea of time later, and she was fairly sure the area she found herself in resembled the de la Vallière estate. She wasn't quite sure, but the terrain seemed right and the smell was familiar. The sun was bright, birds were cheeping, and on the other side of the clearing a young deer grazed on soft green grass.

"Hello," Louise said to it happily. "I think I'm nearly there, Mademoiselle Deer."

With a shrill ululation, a man pounced on the deer and beat it to death with a mixture of the club he carried and his bare hands. Birds scattered and the peace of the woods was broken. By the end of it, the savage man's hands were smeared with gore.

Louise stared at the hulking man wearing poorly tanned furs and waving a club over his head. She noticed, with a dawning sense of horror, that he was red-headed and well-tanned and looked more than a little von Zerbst-ish. Oh dear. Oh dear. What if he c-captured her and took her off to be his cave-dwelling bride? She… well, okay, she'd probably just shoot him with a tiny lightning bolt and hope it wouldn't ruin history forever, but it'd still be scary!

"I'm awfully sorry, I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere," she quavered. "I think I've gone the wrong way. Can you tell me which way…"

The hulking man reached into his furs, and pulled out a monocle, putting it on. "Oh, Tristanian!" he said, in a pronounced Germanian accent. "I apologise if I frightened you!"

"Um," Louise said, feeling like she had just had a rug she was standing on yanked out from under her.

"I like to hunt the old fashioned way, jah! It is very healthy! Much more healthy than sitting on a horse! Much weight I lose this way! The thrill of the wild! Of chasing down animals and beating them to death!" He peered at her. "Are you a de la Vallière?"

"No," lied Louise de la Vallière. Inwardly, she celebrated. Yes! Finally! She was recent enough that her family existed. "I've heard that they're very bad people," she said, for lack of anything more precise. It was a useful ice-breaker, and almost always accurate.

"Yes! That they are! You must be careful! If you had wandered a little bit to the west, you would be in their lands! That is not safe! The living dead walk the border regions, and they do terrible things to people they do not think would be missed. Once they turned me into a werewolf!

"A w-werewolf?" Louise asked, sudden fear churning in her gut.

"Ah, fear not, fraulein! I got better. Still, that was when I learned the value of a good workout! Like this!"

Louise narrowed her eyes. "West, you say. Which way is that? So I can avoid it." He pointed it out. "Well, thank you very much. Good luck with your…" she tried not to gag, "... hunting."

"Ah ha! Yes!" Hefting the dead deer onto his shoulders, he walked off, whistling.

Louise let him get out of sight, and headed straight in the direction she had been explicitly told not to go.

...​

The chamber was gloomy. The air smelt of old rust. Dark stains lined every single floor tile. The blindfolded servants were playing a suitably dramatic dirge, to honour their mistress who stood before the large golden bath.

Frowning, Madeleine de la Vallière considered her conundrum. The peasantry were jolly improper, all things considered. They had no idea of proper chastity before marriage. And this was darned bullsugar, because there were aggravatingly few beautiful young virgins left in the de la Vallière lands. The ones who she hadn't already made use of had quickly shed their purity without blessed matrimony. Even the dowdy women and ugly men seemed to have caught on.

Yes, the villages were going through a population boom and that meant her husband had plenty of soldiers, but that didn't help her problem.

She glanced down at the sack of puppies beside her. They were very handsome dogs, it was true, and they were virgins. The rituals didn't specify humans were required. But there were certain side effects to non-human blood if used to excess, and more than that there was a shocking lack of blood in a pup. The contents of the sack would barely be enough to wash her hair in.

Oh well. Wants must what wants must. She began to unfasten the neck of her dress.

And that was when a young pink-haired woman walked out of the solid wall in front of her.

"Oh, I say!" Madeline exclaimed, dropping her knife with a clatter.

The young woman looked around. "Oh! Is… is this the Yellow Reading Room?" she asked, sniffing. Her nose wrinkled up and she looked down in disgust. "Uh… well, no, but the architecture looks right."

"Who do you jolly well think you are, barging in here like this?" Madeline demanded. She was practically vibrating, which was producing no small amount of jiggling in her generous figure. "I am trying to do something here with an adorable sack of puppies and you can't just come in here! Who are you? Did I murder you? Because I don't remember if I did and I'm awfully sorry to say I'm not at all sorry, so if you plan to haunt me can you come back later?"

The young woman recognised her, eyes widening, before she frowned. "I… am a ghost who walked these halls for much of my life," she said. "Yes. I should go. By the way, what year is this?"

Madeline cocked her head. "Oh, yes, of course, time moves differently for the…" she paused, as an idea struck her. This girl did look very alive for a ghost, which meant she was rich in stolen life energy. De la Vallière ghosts tended to do that. And possibly that could serve her very well. "Come to think of it, there really is no need for you to go. Come, you adorable cute little girl-ghost and tell me what portentous message you bear."

"I… no, I really must go. My words are for another." The young woman looked around.

"No, no, I jolly well insist." Madeline took a step forwards, lips parted. Oh, she could almost smell the blood. The girl was so very alive for a ghost who walked through walls. "By any chance, are you a virgin?"

"What?"

"You didn't happen to kill yourself because of an unwanted pregnancy? Did you remain proof against the silly sins of the flesh?"

The ghost-girl blushed bright red. "Well… um… what kind of… um… a question is… I really have to go!"

Was she mortified because she was an innocent, or mortified to confess her sins? Well, she was a de la Vallière, Madeline considered, so it was more likely she was embarrassed about a lack of experience in carnality. Her smile grew wider.

The ghost actually seemed to be cringing, desperately trying to avoid Madeline's gaze. Her wandering eyes noticed something. The girl leapt forwards, grabbing up something that had been lurking in the shadows. "Got you, you little monster! I knew you'd be lurking around, waiting for me to show up! Ha! I'm wise to you!"

Something chittered back. Madeline blinked. What was a little gold-furred monkey with glowing yellow eyes doing in her ritual room?

Her chain of thought was interrupted when the monkey bit the girl on the arm. She screamed and flailed it against the wall, vanishing through it again.

Madeline pursed her lips, and sighed. What a shame. Picking up her sacrificial knife, she licked the blade. "Oh well. Back to the puppies." She opened her sack, and pulled out the first one, which looked at her with big eyes. "Oh, you adorable little thing! I'm going to be a little sad when I cut your throat!"

...​

Arms flailing, teeth clenched, Louise leapt off the clock stepping stone, golden lion tamarin clamped onto her arm. Founder, she'd nearly fallen in so many times, which was just what Ozymandias wanted. It was late evening in the grounds of the de la Vallière estate. The buildings were heavily damaged and patched up, but Louise wasn't paying much attention to that compared to the rather more pressing point of a dang monkey biting her arm.

"Get off, you little bastard!" she yelled, slapping at the thing. Blood stained her dress. She slammed her arm into the ground until he let go and staggered backwards. She felt light-headed and she could feel her pulse in the bite.

Ozymandias screeched monkeyish profanities at her, pulling out a belt knife that was more like a sword for him.

"You made one mistake messing with me," Louise growled, backing up for a good run-up. "I've been around minions for far too long now. And do you know what that means?"

Ozymandias' rude hand gesture indicated that there were certain things that he could not give vis a vis what it meant. His expression changed, however, when Louise lunged forwards and her foot connected with him in a solid punt. He went flying and vanished into the purple rift.

"It means I'm really good at kicking minion-sized things," Louise said, teeth clenched. "And good riddance."

Ooof. Her head spun. The air felt too thin. That was a bad sign. Combined with the way that her whole sleeve was red, she was losing unhealthy amounts of blood. Which, hah, her grandmother would have been very angry at her about. Very angry about. Ha. Ha ha. She needed to apologise to her father some time. It was a wonder he was as functional as he was if that was what his mother was like.

For some reason, that seemed hilariously funny to her. Or possibly she was just crying. She wasn't entirely sure. Founder, her family was so mucked up.

Louise staggered over to the low wall, already considering what clothing she was wearing would make the best bandage, and sat down. She glanced over the other side and saw...

… nothing. There was no ground there. Only clouds, and below that, a burning hellscape.

"Um. Where has the ground gone?" Louise panted. She whirled, feeling light-headed. No, that was the de la Vallière estate behind her. It was usually on the nice and solid ground. Not in the sky. That was not a thing that it did, except occasionally when past family members turned it into a flying castle. But that hadn't happened for at least fifty years. Forty, tops. She'd only seen it a few times in trying to find the right era.

"Great," she moaned, slumping down to look down over the hellscape below. The burning magma pits and screams of the damned echoed up. "I thought I was getting closer to twelve years ago. How far back is this?"

"Uh… that's a complicated question," a very familiar voice said from behind her. "Because if now is when I think it is, the concept of time doesn't apply."

Louise didn't turn. "The spell can go to the future?" she said, feeling faint. Her knuckles whitened as she tensed up, clutching her arm to her chest.

"Don't you remember what Eleanore said?" the older woman said. "The spell shatters time. There is no past and future. There's just now." She paused. "Aren't you going to turn around?"

"I don't know if I want to look."

"Surely you've seen worse in a mirror."

Louise turned around, and came face to face with herself. She swallowed. Looking at older-her wasn't like looking in a mirror. Not at all. The future-Louise looked to be in her thirties, and was dressed like an sky-captain. A livid red scar barely missed her left eye. Her shirt was open at the neck, revealing both that Louise would manage to fill out more and also part of what looked like a sizable old burn. She was slightly taller than Louise, and her hair was cut short.

"Let's get the necessary things out of the way," older-Louise said, sounding incredibly like their mother. "I'm thirty six. Yes, having children affects your bosom. Yes, that burn hurt. Don't worry, the demon came out worse than I did. No, I'm not the overlady. Does that cover it?"

Louise counted off the questions that had been bubbling up in her mind on her fingers. "What the hell happened here?"

"Hell happened here."

"Helpful."

"Hello? What did you think happened? We're a flying island above the Abyss."

"That's… literally the Abyss down there?" Louise asked, stomach churning.

"Mmm," said her elder self. "Get away from the edge, and sit down. We need to talk. You're bleeding and I can close that up and get that bandaged. And you look like you could do with a meal. Perhaps over some wine, stolen from the Queen of Hell."

...​

The food was largely hellish in origin. Louise suspected her future self was a sky-pirate - and a rather successful one, at that. Still, she ate all she could. She needed her strength and the last food had been… uh, probably canapes at the Abyssal banquet for the Cabal Awards. She continued eating with one arm, even as the other her rubbed an astringent potion into the injury, then professionally sewed and bandaged it up. The sewing hurt, but the older her kept her mind off the pain with the explanation as to what had happened to the world.

"... and that about summarises it," future-Louise said, downing the rest of her glass of wine. Louise watched with a fair amount of amazement. Her older self had a quite impressive tolerance for hell-wine. Louise had tried it in the Abyss and had felt tipsy after a single glass. "The world tore itself apart. Fragments of Halkeginia now float in the sky above the Abyss. I literally have no clue why it happened - and neither do the demons, either. It might have been some plan of that Hell-Queen bitch, but if it is, her underlings don't know."

"They talk to you?"

Future-Louise laughed humourlessly. "Eventually. But I also have some contacts with the Underworld - and with the elves. The pointy-eared bastards know something about this they're not telling me. But they always act like that, so I haven't been able to get anything out of them."

"Hmm." Louise winced, moving the fingers in her left hand. They hurt, but she could still move them. Henrietta would need to look at her arm if… no, when she made it back home. "So I can't stop it from happening except accidentally. You just don't know enough."

"It really is jolly useless," future-Louise said, nodding. "But at least you know it's coming." She paused and reconsidered. "Maybe. It might not happen at all. I think I'm probably not even a possibility from your point of view. I didn't wind up in the future when Eleanore broke time and I don't remember meeting me when I was you, which means that I'm not actually from the real timeline. Which is a bunch of bullsugar, but what can you do? Where and-or-when did you come from before you got here-and-now?"

"Um," said Louise. "Well, uh, that wretched thing attacked me when I wandered into. Um. Our grandmother being a horrible person. Did you know that Cattleya inherited her personality? And I don't mean the 'obsession with blood' bits. I mean the bounciness and tendency to use words like 'jolly', 'awfully', and describing things as 'adorable'. And the figure. Although she was blonde like Eleanore and father." She scowled. "I'm pretty sure she wanted to kill me and bathe in my blood."

"My goodness," said future-Louise. "That never happened to me. Did you stumble into Mother's changing room when she was fifteen?"

"... no?"

"Be very glad you didn't. I still have the scars." The older version of Louise absent-mindedly rubbed her left arm, exactly where Louise had been bitten – and Founder, didn't that open up possibilities she didn't want to think about? "Anyway, as the princess of the Vallière Sky-Principality, I have my duties and my honour. I'm not sure what will happen to me when time reassembles, but I'm willing to not-exist if that'll stop this future from happening."

"Wait, what? Principality?"

Older-Louise massaged her neck. "Uh… it's complicated. The power was vested in me by the Sky-Pope, though. And when Bruxelles fell… oh, right, uh. How to put this? Henrietta went a teeny tiny bit off the deep end fighting the Abyss."

"How teeny-tiny?"

"She killed everyone in Bruxelles, reanimated their corpses as soldiers, bound their ghosts, and then crashed Bruxelles into Los Diablos to unleash her undead horde. She died, but that didn't stop her from conquering about a quarter of the Underworld once she got there."

"Um." Louise considered. "I'm not sure what to say."

"That's… that's about it. We still stay in touch, but even in the best light she's a psychotic death-obsessed monster who rules the lands of the dead as a necrotic tyrant. Just… one who I'd prefer still thought of me as a friend, not least because it means she won't try to murder me and bind me into friendship."

"Well. Um. I should also probably try to avoid that happening," Louise said slowly.

"That would be for the best." Her older self looked her over. "Have you eaten enough? Are you feeling better?"

"Don't mother me. I'm you." Louise paused. "Less hungry and thirsty. More nervous about the future."

"Good. Rely on your nerves. They'll keep you alive. I wish I could help you more, but I can't even see the time rifts. They don't exist to me. You need to get going."

"Yes. I do." Louise rose, taking a deep breath and heading over to the nearest fracture in this time. She worked her hand a few times, getting used to the pain that certain movements caused her. She was at the estate, so now it was just a question of heading back in time to the date she needed. Preferably not so early that she met her grandmother again.

"Oh, and one word of advice?" future-Louise said, from her seat at the table.

"Mmm?"

"Don't throw Eleanore down a time rift. You and me were able to climb back up to the present, but she cast the spell and Half-Eaten Chronos hates the caster. He took her. The books say she died instantly, from the perspective of everyone else. Not from her perspective." There was an ancient look of pain in her older self's eyes. "I killed both my sisters that day, and only one of them was easy to bring back."

Louise swallowed, breaking into a run. That had been her plan. "I'll… I'll bear that in mind," she snapped, nearing the purple-glow of the rift.

"See that you do. Now, run! You've been here too long! You might be too la—"

 

[Sucal]

And then it reveals that Jessica had transformed for a prank!

 

[xeivous]

Time travel. Not even once.

Curious as to who totally not a sky pirate future Louise had a kid with.

 

[The Sandman]

The question of how one can ever be too late for anything when time is shattered and causality but a memory is an interesting one.

It also means that a wizard probably invented the spell Eleanore used because he was tired of arriving at the faculty parties at his college after the good hors d'oeuvres had been eaten, the good wine drunk, and the attractive junior faculty members partnered off.

 

[Reinholdt]

You might be too la—"

Click to shrink...

That's not a good sound.

Randomized Time Travel on a Time Limit. No it doesn't sound like it works, but when your trying to change the past and aren't traveling through the multiverse (so your actual past) things stop making sense if you stop to think about anything.

 

[Alane1]

The question of how one can ever be too late for anything when time is shattered and causality but a memory is an interesting one.

It also means that a wizard probably invented the spell Eleanore used because he was tired of arriving at the faculty parties at his college after the good hors d'oeuvres had been eaten, the good wine drunk, and the attractive junior faculty members partnered off.

Click to shrink...

Or trying to avoid a certain figure that speaks in all caps or trying to avoid the librarian's wraith because they were late returning a book.

 

[khfan21]

Did Louise just see Sasha kill Brimr?