Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You feel the impact of the boulder before you can comprehend what is happening. The reverberating slam of stone hitting the frozen floor of the House is a terrific noise in itself, but you can't help but think you heard something else along with it. The snapping of bone, the splattering of meat.

The boulder landed where Siffrin was standing mere moments before. And so Siffrin is gone, unless you want to count the darkish liquid seeping out from under the stone as him. It's been maybe 20 minutes since you entered the House, and Siffrin has been obliterated.

You’re not sure what to call the sound that escapes your mouth.

(You received a CRUSHING MEMORY!)

(You’ll always remember this.)

[Memories are like items. Each Memory is specific to one of your party members, and can give them special abilities.]

[This Memory is associated with your Rogue, exclusively. When he has Crushing Memory equipped, nearby pillars make him anxious, giving -10 DEF and +10 ATKSPD while in close proximity.]

[You equip Memories mentally by keeping one in the forefront of your mind while thinking of the relevant party member.]

Your trembling body freezes as you hear the voice, startled out of your reaction by the sheer absurdity. Who…? And what are they talking about?

No one else in your party reacts to what sounds to you like a very clear voice, out in the open. And they’re busy, just like you were, but you noticed. Surely the other’s would’ve at least reacted? Even just physically? But no, they’re all just horrified. Like they should be.

So it's all in your head, then. Wonderful. Wonderful, wonderful wonderful. It only took one (admittedly major) traumatic event for you to start hallucinating. The sudden onset of hallucination isn’t a good sign in general, but in your current situation, it could potentially be deadly. Any misstep could be deadly, as had just been… very efficiently proven.

…But that voice at least doesn’t sound like your party members— you’re the only one with a Ka Buan accent, after all— so if it continues to sound distinctly not-like-them, you’ll know what it is. You’ll be able to distinguish it from reality.

If you indulge yourself for a moment and extend the possibilities of what the voice could be past the realm of hallucination… It could potentially be the King? Telepathy wouldn't be the weirdest ability for the King to have, considering he somehow figured out Time Craft. But even if you have no idea what his voice sounds like, you are fairly certain the King is not from Ka Bue. If he was, someone would’ve commented on it at some point during your journey. It’s probably for the best to continue to think of it as hallucinatory.

Right. Although it’s definitely an inconvenience, if this hallucination comes back in the same form, it will hopefully not confuse you into a deadly situation. You try not to think about how unlikely it seems that if you do continue to hallucinate, it will continue to just be a voice... rambling about remembering things? With this same voice you’ve never heard? You may be much less than an expert on the subject, but you have a feeling that’s not how it usually works.

Hold on, what did the voice say again?

It doesn’t matter, you probably shouldn’t dwell on it— you feel like that could make it worse— but what else is there to dwell on? Boniface sobbing hysterically into Isabeau’s vest? Isabeau’s own defeated silence? Mirabelle’s wails? Gems forbid, your own feelings? No, no, your stupid hallucination is the safest bet, isn’t it.

Memories are like items. What does that mean. You shouldn’t take it seriously, obviously, but even if you did. You cannot hold a memory in your hands. It has no physical component, no hidden craft properties. And the rest of it was just… battle theory nonsense! Why would keeping this memory in mind affect Siffrin… at all? Siffrin isn’t the one with the memory of seeing their own death. Siffrin doesn’t have any memories anymore. THEY. JUST. DIED.

Hm. It seems like distraction isn’t working very well. Did you really think you could avoid thinking about what happened?

At some point between the boulder falling and now, you've sat down. You don't remember doing that, but it's probably for the best. You don't trust yourself to do much at the moment. Gems. 

…

…

…

But you're going to have to do something eventually, aren't you? You're the oldest, you're the coldest, and this can't be the end. There are still three adults in this party. 

“Mirabelle,” you say. It's pathetically quiet, your voice is hoarse. You must've shrieked more than you remember. 

She's on her knees, not too far in front of you. Neither of you moved too far outside of your usual spots in the single file line, not like Isabeau and Boniface. She looks back as you call her name, and she doesn't look any better than her wailing implied. 

“I can lead the party from this point, if needed,” you offer.

Mirabelle blinks slowly as she considers this. It’s probably a bit early to move on but. Well. What else can you do.

“I’m fine,” she asserts, “I can lead.”

You nod. You worry about how she's handling it. Her voice is steady, but cold. Her hands are trembling. She's driven— angry, you think. You worry, but you don't have the privilege of acting on that worry. Something has to get you up to the King, and if that something is Mirabelle’s anger, so be it. 

After a good few moments, she stands. looking back at you and the other two. 

“Isabeau,” she calls, and slowly, without a word, he stands. Boniface remains in his arms, and you can hear them still hiccuping. You almost want to say it’s too early to leave, but you doubt Boniface will be feeling better in a time frame that would allow for actually defeating the King. So now is as fine as ever. Mirabelle, in silent agreement, starts walking down the corridor.

With Mirabelle leading and you in the back, you’re reminded of when you first joined the party, after Isabeau had very offhandedly mentioned that he and Mirabelle were the ones on a quest to save Vaugarde, just the two of them. You hadn’t been in the country for long, and you had been dreading having to leave so soon after you arrived. You thought you’d never be able to learn any of what you came here for before the country was frozen in time forever. 

You wonder if any of that will matter. At the time, it felt almost serendipitous. You could’ve continued traveling on your own, but traveling with the party means that if you become frozen or die, it won’t only be because of your own reckless sentimentality. You’ve been fighting back. 

For a long time, this has kept you confident in your decision to travel with the others, but right now, you just feel an irrational stab of homesickness in your gut. You’ll die here, most likely. You won’t ever see your home again. You wonder if Siffrin felt the same, moments before their death.

It’s probably some sort of sign when you enter the next room and immediately see what is very likely your next hallucination: a bell, hung from the ceiling. It’s fairly bright, not the lightless shade the rest of the frozen House has taken on. It’s a familiar size, a familiar shape. It’s round, bulbous, with a single slit at the bottom. You can’t see inside, but you know there’s no clapper. If it’s been made properly, there’ll be pellets inside that sound the bell when its rope is pulled. It’s around the size of an apple, the size of a bell one would find at the entrance of a shrine— one you’d ring when you didn’t have time to enter but still wanted to inform the shrine’s kami of your presence. Because that’s what it is, a Ka Buan shrine bell.

Mirabelle’s gaze is immediately on the locked door on the opposite side of the room, not the bell. You aren’t really expecting her to comment on anything, not right now, but a Ka Buan shrine bell in the middle of a Vaugardian House of Change? You would expect Mirabelle to react in some way, at least. So yes, it is probably a hallucination. At this point you aren’t too surprised.

Mirabelle leads you into a room on the left, there are enough tonics scattered around that she gets impatient trying to fit them into Boniface’s abandoned bag. She scours the room for a key instead, you try your best to help, but you find yourself adverse to touching anything, you barely feel present. It’s not long before she gives up entirely. There is another room to check, after all.

Exiting the room, the bell is still there. Mirabelle nearly runs straight through it. 

The room across from the one you just left is comparatively very empty, and there's a key just sitting on the floor. Mirabelle makes a small frustrated noise when she sees it, and then you're backtracking into the room with the bell again. 

It takes a few moments for Mirabelle to unlock the door, and you make a last minute decision; you ring the bell. No one sees you do it, no one aside from you hears it ring. You ignore how real the rope felt in your hand. 

The bell doesn’t have an inscription, no name to clarify who it rings for. You figure the closest deity is the Change God, maybe? The location of the Change God isn't really something specified by the Change belief, at least not in the way you're used to. It’s said that the Houses are places where one is closer to the Change God, but that’s different from shrines and kami. You send an acknowledgement to the Change God anyway. You're running on instinct, habit. 

[You can save your progress by ringing the bell.]

You ignore the voice this time. That meant almost next to nothing. 

The next room is progress, but it also reveals just how much more of the House you all have to work through before you reach the King. This is the proper first floor, this is the start, everything else was just prologue. Sadnesses patrol on either side. Siffrin is still dead.

Mirabelle says the door ahead leads to the second floor. It’s locked as well, but she was expecting that. She leads you towards the right wing of the floor.

One of the sadnesses catches up to your small party. The battle isn’t quite as swift as it otherwise would be, but it’s not outrageously difficult. You win just fine. Siffrin should be here. You are not far enough in the house for his death to make any amount of sense. Siffrin should be here.

You feel your side start to cramp as you match Mirabelle’s determined pace, leading you all down a long corridor. It’s not as bad as following Siffrin at full tilt, but that was something they only rarely required of you. Mirabelle has been consistent with her determined speed. You can hear Isabeau's breath slowly becoming more labored as he carries Boniface, and it's a relief when Mirabelle suddenly stops after turning the next corner.

“...What's that?”

You can see what she's spotted as you massage your side; large, floating droplets of transparent liquid, hovering in a spot down the hallway. It isn't anything you've experienced on your journey so far, but even so, you can't help but think that they make sense. On a thematic level at least, if nothing else. They have the same sort of unnatural viscosity as the tears wept by the Sadnesses; large, shining globs that look like they’d burst the moment you touched them.

“Weird, floating water?”

Isabeau's weak guess comes with a tired exhale, but it's a decent enough summary, and it's not like any of you are really expecting conversation right now.

Mirabelle continues down the hallway, pace slowed as she approaches the liquid. You and Isabeau follow, of course, and the three of you are only standing for a couple seconds before Boniface decides that they're put together enough to at least turn around and take a look.

“...They’re Tears,” Boniface mutters, and Isabeau sets them down as they struggle to get a better look. “Or I think they are. They, uh. We should be careful around them.”

“Where did you get this information?” You ask, hoping the question isn’t too demanding. Boniface clearly doesn’t want to talk right now.

“Dormont,” they reply. That seems to be as much as they want to explain. That's fine. 

You have no plans on touching them, but they are curious things. Unlike the flames of the torches on the walls, the Tears move. Gently wavering, suspended in space but not in time. You want to try something. You know there's no time, and Mirabelle doesn't seem especially thrilled that you want to stay here, but.

A simple experiment, that's all you'll do. You look through your bag, looking for anything you're willing to part with. It's not the easiest task, you've planned fairly meticulously for today, but you think you're okay with parting with Strange Vexillology: an Incomplete History of Mystery. It's your backup weapon, technically, but it's flimsy and meandering and there'll be plenty of other books in the House that could work if you're desperate.

Right, now you just need to toss it in without touching the Tear yourself. Shouldn't be especially hard, but you're fully aware of how bad your aim is.

“...What are you doing, Dile?”

Boniface sounds nervous, and maybe this isn't something you should be doing. Maybe your frustration is getting the better of you. But you remember, vaguely, a time around when you were Boniface's age. Nothing in your life seemed to be anything you could control, and so when a friend of yours showed off a little fire he'd made outside of your school, you took one of your schoolbooks and slowly fed it to the flame, watching it burn, page by page. You think this is similar. You need to watch something happen, a process. You need to know what the Tear does.

“Don’t worry, Boniface,” you murmur. You'll be careful.

You faintly acknowledge that Boniface has grabbed your jacket at this point, you think little of it. You line up your throw, and it seems like Boniface has figured out what you're doing.

“Stupid! Let's just go!”

Boniface tugs on your jacket as you heft the book forwards. As a result, your aim wavers to one side. You huff, stepping forcefully in the opposite direction. But Boniface, being a preteen, isn't particularly strong. Instead of just making the small correction you intended, you stumble forwards. Your eyes widen as you realize what you've just done.

“MADAME ODILE!!”

Mirabelle's anguished shout is the last thing you hear before you hit the surface of the tear. It shatters, more like glass than water, and everything stops.

Chapter Text

You’re breathing again, that's the first thing you notice. You’re moving, you're alive. Not frozen for the rest of existence.

The second thing you notice is that you are no longer in the House, which is… not what you were expecting. If someone managed to unfreeze you, if the curse was undone, you should still be there, no? 

It takes you a moment to orient yourself, but you know where you are— you were here just yesterday. You’re at the foot of the Favor Tree. 

You… what is happening. You're stood like you're about to ask for your favor at the tree, and you're shaking. You're shaking because you were frozen in time for such a stupid reason. That was the end, you think. There's no way Isabeau and Mirabelle would drag Boniface any further into the house, and Boniface—

There are tears, falling from your face. Like the ones that froze you. You feel nauseous. How can this be real? After that?

“...M’dame?”

Isabeau. He was approaching the Favor Tree around the time you had left yesterday, wasn't he…? Not that his approach now means much of anything. You shouldn't jump to any absurd conclusions. 

“Are you alright?”

You don’t answer for a moment, wiping tears off your face. Are you alright. What kind of question is that? 

As much as you'd like to scoff at him, as horrible as you're feeling, you have no idea what is going on. It would be rather unfair to assume that he's being purposefully insensitive— especially with how wildly out of character that would be for him— and so you make your best guess at a response appropriate for the situation.

“...We’re all stressed,” you eventually reply, voice small. It's not a lie, per se, but that delivery definitely made it sound like one. 

A hand gently rests on your shoulder. 

“That's true, we are,” you can see Isabeau’s worried smile in your peripheral, “but if there’s something… more specific that’s making you stressed? I wouldn’t mind if you ranted for a bit.”

You sigh, tilting your head up. Light streams through the leaves of the Favor Tree. It's warm, it's real. 

“...I'll let you know once I know what this is,” you settle on saying. That’s also not a lie, you don't think, but you don't like that you don't know exactly what you're promising. 

Isabeau nods, he looks so confident that you'll figure it out, whatever “it” is at this point. 

If he really has no idea what you just experienced, that would make sense. You usually figure things out, so he has no reason to doubt you. But standing there, still trembling, watching Isabeau leave… You’re starting to doubt your own skills.

[...]

[Oh, you…]

[Come down to the southern meadow. You’ll get some answers there.]

The voice. From earlier. The hallucinatory one. You find that you can't really work up as much worry as you managed while in the House. The House was real, and the voice was not. This? Right now? You aren’t quite sure what’s real. So you might as well go to the meadow.

You shuffle along to your destination. Dormont looks the same as it's been since you arrived; not frozen, but also not free of any of the dread that came with the threat of the curse. The villagers are usually quite friendly, but no one approaches you as you walk. No one seems to be particularly interested in finding out why you look as torn up as you must. 

A turn right, and you can see the meadow in the distance. It looks the same as it always has, not that the information tells you much. Just that if the owner of the voice is real, they aren't just standing there waiting for you. It’s a bit of a relief.

You went to the meadow yesterday— or, well, whenever that was. It’s looking more and more like you’ve somehow returned to that day, and as you approach, that theory is almost indisputably proven for you.

Because he's here, he's real, alive. Just napping. 

“Siffrin!”

They startle awake at the sound of their name, confused. That's fine. The last time you saw him, he was an abstract splattering of gore.

You rush up to him, fall onto your knees in front of them, and then pause. Your hands are trembling, you don't know how to… you don't know what you're…

“What happened?!” Siffrin asks, "Odile???"

You want to grab him, you want proof that he’s real. You want to feel his pulse you want to pick them up feel their mass in your arms you want to know that they are a solid object. But he doesn’t like touch and you aren’t especially keen on it either, so you’re just hovering over them. You don’t know what to do or how to feel or—

“I’m fine! It’s fine! Are you okay?”

He’s starting to look genuinely worried now, so you force yourself to sit. Calm yourself. They’re fine, you’re fine. Clearly, they are alive. You don’t need much more proof than you already have. 

You compose yourself enough to respond. “Yes, Siffrin, I’m okay. So are you, clearly. I… it’s fine.”

Siffrin, generally, isn’t like you. They will let you say this, let you go about your day without mentioning this ever again. Despite how concerning all of that was, he won’t do anything about it. He won’t confront you like Isabeau likely will, he’ll just… accept this.

You think they deserve some sort of explanation. A temporary one, at least. You still don’t know what’s happening, but you’re closer than before. You can come up with something to tell them.

“I... I had this... horrible premonition about tomorrow,” you start. “Nothing happened, nothing has happened yet, I don’t think, but you. Did not make it. So it is good to see you.” Calling it a premonition feels wrong, though. You know you shouldn’t trust memory more than what you’re seeing now, but you completely and fully feel like you lived that day. And then froze in time. 

“...It’s either a premonition, or I somehow unlocked the ability to time travel," you add. Just to be fully transparent.

Siffrin’s worry mostly dissolves back into general confusion. Good.

"A premonition? Like… some sort of prophetic dream?"

You're silent, and you know the look on your face is conveying something when he continues talking.

"I thought you said you weren't very religious," they glance to the side. "That must've been a pretty bad dream if you’re uh… jumping to that.”

You had said you weren't particularly spiritual. There's a difference, and frankly, at any other moment you’d be somewhat offended. But with everything in your mind right now, you can’t be bothered to correct him.

"It could've also been time travel," you remind him. You don’t really blame him for latching onto the premonition thing, it does sound more in line with established phenomena. If Mirabelle could be blessed by the Change God, presumably you could receive prophetic dreams. Even if the idea alone makes you want to roll your eyes.

"Right, yeah. It could've been a pretty bad time travel."

You exhale sharply, a sort of pseudo-laugh. "I'll let you know if I find out which it is," you find yourself saying. You're making a lot of promises today, aren't you?

Siffrin nods, and you wonder how much they actually care about the premonition versus time travel aspect of all of this. It's fair if they don't.

"Just... be extra careful in any 'death hallways' you might come across in the House, alright?"

He gives you a look, one of those confused-and-maybe-offended ones he has. You let yourself smile a bit. Even if he isn't listening to you about the dangers of the House now, you can always remind him later.

This was good for you, seeing Siffrin alive. Seeing them sporting their usual laidback attitude. It's how they should be, ideally.

You sigh, and stand back up. The likely-imaginary owner of the voice in your head hasn't shown themself yet, but there is one more place you can look. It's where you went the last time you were here, after all.

It's interesting, you think, how Vaugardians utilize the knowledge they have about foreign cultures. Very early in your time in Vaugarde, you began to note just how often you would be informed of any caves that happened to be near wherever you were staying. It didn't take you much longer to realize that this was an attempt at accommodating you. They'd note that you are Ka Buan, and then they'd use what they knew about your culture to direct you to something they know would work as a travelers’ shrine. 

They only ever mentioned caves, though. None of the many other natural shrine formations that do, in fact, exist in Vaugarde. Rockflows are your personal favorite, so dramatic. You feel like they should be appreciated by the Change belief as well, with rocks flowing down a slope sometimes only a few centimeters a year but still Changing. Or maybe just changing, you don't have the strongest grasp on how much change is required for something to be a capital c Change, so to speak… 

Regardless, you are frequently told about caves, but you are only told about caves. And when you arrived in Dormont, you were told, like clockwork, about the nearest cave. Unlike in some of the other towns you’ve stopped in, though, this cave is actually in a fairly convenient location. Right under the meadow Siffrin has designated as their napping space.

Right. You pick your way through the trees, slow as you descend down the slope on the far edge of the clearing. The path (if you can really call it that) is winding, definitely used more by animals than fellow humans, but you’ve been here before. You aren’t the most stringent about finding a proper travelers’ shrine when doing your rituals, but you do still value your own privacy. A lack of preteens asking about every little part of the process is also nice.

Then you’re standing at the mouth of the cave, wondering if you’ve overthought the (likely hallucinatory) instructions you heard— the voice did just say to go to the meadow. The inside of the cave is dark, as one might expect, and you aren't exactly keen about going very far without light. Or going very far at all. Exploring random caves is very dangerous, after all. But as your eyes adjust from your spot at the mouth of the cave, you're fairly certain you see a figure. They're sitting, waiting for you.

Looking at you.

You shake your head and walk forward. You aren't claustrophobic, just cautious.

...The being in front of you is not human. Their body is made of smoothed sediment, rough but polished like an outcropping of sandstone in the ocean, battered by water for thousands of years. In their chest is an opening, an open geode in the shape of a diamond. Their head is the one thing that doesn't seem to be some sort of rock— though you aren't quite sure what it is— it's quite abstract. A cloud of rectangular nodes, linked together to create a complex array. That would be your best attempt at describing it. And two eyes, of course, housed in their own nodes. better to stare at you with.

"Aren’t you going to say anything?" they ask. You scowl.

If there were any time in your life where you should be cautiously polite, it would be now, facing a being like this. But you’ve always been stubborn. You stay silent, considering your options… the ones that don’t involve being polite, at least. 

The figure sighs, exasperated. “I’m not an Expression, if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t need your respect.”

It takes you a moment to piece together what an Expression is supposed to be, but you suppose it works as a faithful Vaugardian translation of kami. Somewhat nontraditional, but you can’t say you enjoy calling them gods or spirits much. Part of you wonders why this conversation can’t just be in Ka Buan, but maybe you’re making too many assumptions about a being that’s clearly not even human. Maybe their accent is not indicative of their origin.

“What are you, then?” you ask. 

The figure exhales, and you’re not quite sure how, considering the lack of a mouth or nose. “I am pure data, knowledge, inevitability, consequence…” they trail off, “and I have no need for a name.”

“Alright, Miss Consequence,” you parrot. It's a perfect little retort, right up until you remember that “miss” isn't just diminutive— it's also gendered. And, generally, assuming a stranger’s gender isn't really the level of rudeness you like to stoop to. “Er, not to assume anything.”

Most of the time, you will argue that Vaugardian isn't any worse than any other language, not like some claim— every language you know has its own infuriating quirks, after all— but in moments like this? You absolutely despise Vaugardian. 

It takes the figure a moment to realize what you mean, but when they do, they laugh. Like you've said something cute. 

“Miss works just fine,” they pause to think, “much more preferable than Madame.”

Well, at least you were correct in your assumption. You try not to wonder too much about what their problem is with Madame as a title, assuming it isn’t the gendered aspect. That’s probably none of your business.

“You still need third person pronouns for me, don’t you…” they continue, annoyance seeping into their voice. Vaugardian inspires so much of that. “I could have some fun with it, I know you could handle it.”

They pause, and you motion for them to continue. So dramatic.

“You can use ‘it’ when I’m being referred to in a solitary context, and then ‘she’ when you refer to me in a social context,” she explains. “‘It is in a cave,’ ‘I talked to her…’ I trust your judgement with it.”

You have to admit, you do find that fairly appealing, at least conceptually. “Did you get bored of people simply alternating between the two?” 

She grins, or at least that’s what the pull at her eyes suggests, “something like that.”

“...And I can just call you Consequence, then?” You ask, “it’ll be useful to have something to call you, just in case you get lost and I need something to shout. ‘Strange cave being with no need for a name’ is a bit of a mouthful.”

She sighs. “If you really feel there’s a need, sure.”

You nod. “Right, now that your introduction has been constructed, I am—”

“Kanemaru Odile, she and her in Vaugardian, watashi in Ka Buan.”

Your face pinches in confusion. “Why are you stating my Ka Buan first person pronouns. No one does that.”

“Well, maybe they should!”

“There is literally no reason to.”

She stares at you, silently, a somewhat playful look in her eyes. 

“...Ah, you’re crabbing with me. I see,” you mutter.

Consequence huffs, leaning back on the rock formation it’s sitting on. “You’re so distracting, I was supposed to tell you you’re in a time loop.”

You blink. “...Right.” 

She’s been distracting you as well, the oddity of your current situation outshined by the sheer absurdity of whatever Consequence is. It does make some amount of sense the two would be connected in some way.

“Every time you freeze in time, or die, or any other, less obvious trigger, you will be sent back in time. Your loops start at the Favor Tree, as you've seen.”

…That seems too easy. “And how many do I get?”

She's amused by that question, “a truly… relevant concern,” it's laughing at some private joke of its, you're sure. “You'll have more than enough loops to defeat the King, if that's what you're asking.”

You frown, “it isn’t.” You hate when people so obviously flaunt that they’re hiding something. “Are there a set amount of loops, or do I have to meet some sort of condition to break them?”

Consequence thinks it over for longer than you’d like. “It’s the second one.”

…Right. 

“You know, If you don't know something, you can just say so,” you huff. “I could’ve guessed myself that you describing yourself as ‘pure knowledge’ was hyperbole.”

“Of course,” she mutters, already sick of you. Good. “Fine. I know that there is not a set, limited number of loops, alright?”

She is avoiding something, you’re pretty certain about that. She paused when you gave her two options for how the time loops worked, and now she’s just saying that she only knows there’s not a limited number of loops. Does she not know if there’s a condition that will break the loops? That doesn’t… bode well, but at the moment, the fact that you have an unlimited amount of attempts at defeating the King is fortuitous. You let the other implications go for the time being. 

“...I'm here to guide you, to give you advice,” she adds when you don't respond. “Unless you don't want help from the only other person who can remember things between loops.”

Hm. 

“Why should I trust you?”

She thinks on that question for a moment, “I guess you don't have to, especially not so soon. We'll have plenty of time together for you to form your opinion on me, after all.”

Ominous. Potentially threatening.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Consequence scowls, “it'll take you many more than one loop to defeat the King, I know that much . You'll get to know me, whether you want to or not.”

You sigh. She does have some sort of point, and you don't think it's very productive to keep needling her. She doesn't seem too immediately malicious, and so you decide that it's for the best that you take a slower approach to unraveling what, exactly, it has going on. 

…She says she’s here to give you advice, you might as well test that. 

“How can the Death Corridor go… better?” you ask.

She considers this. “There is a way to deactivate the trap in one of the pillars. The Rogue looked, of course, but they weren’t anticipating that the Housemaiden’s worry was anything more than her typical anxieties. I would think he’d listen to you if you emphasized the need to find a way to deactivate the trap. If he still can’t find it, you can always look for the switch yourself.”

Seems simple enough, and avoiding accidentally touching the Tears in the future should be fairly trivial as well. Those are the only obstacles you know of so far, though, and if failure is that easy, then, well…

“Is there anything I should be looking out for further into the house? Any… second death corridors? Weaknesses the King has?”

“I’m not here to give you spoilers,” Consequence responds, rolling her eyes. “Though, actually. Your Rogue is deathly allergic to pineapple, and the Kid is planning on bringing some along as a snack. You should probably nip that in the bud.”

You frown. “Our Rogue’s name is Siffrin.”

“I know,” she replies, voice terse. You don’t know what that’s about, but you let it go for now. Just another little quirk, it has plenty of those already.

…But is she avoiding telling you more because of “spoilers,” or because of a lack of knowledge? It clearly knows more than you do, both about the time loop and the journey ahead of you, but, as you've discovered, it doesn't know everything. She seems to be very determined to obscure this fact; she seems to want to obscure just about everything about herself. How she expects you to start trusting her, you don’t know. Perhaps she’s expecting that providing accurate information will be enough. And maybe she’s right, you don’t see yourself passing up on that information anytime soon.

Ah, wait. You do have a few more concrete things to ask.

“You said I could… equip ‘Memories?’ Before?”

Consequence nods. “Did you figure that out?”

You didn’t exactly have a chance to try. 

“Why… What are they? How do they even affect my colleagues if they’re my memories? How do they affect anything? It doesn’t make any amount of sense.”

A shrug from Consequence. “It’s like your equipment, but mental. You’re the one in the time loop, so you’re the one with the memories. Is it that strange to think that the way you remember others might affect things?”

“Well I wouldn’t think my memory of someone would affect them like that, no,” you retort. “Is the time loop what’s giving this power to memories, or is it something that anyone can do with the proper instructions?” Maybe you should actually try out ‘equipping memories’ before you question this, but you are kind of curious at what Consequence will come up with regardless.

Consequence is beginning to look bored at your questioning, but she follows along. “Considering the fact that memories interact with the loops in a more direct way I haven’t told you about, I would think that yes, it is the time loop giving power to memories. Something about repetition, if I were to guess.” She pauses, “you can assume most of what I tell you is time loop related. I’m here because of the loop, it's an inherent part of me.”

So, so very suspicious. “Did you make the time loop?” you ask.

Consequence laughs. You do not like when she does that. “If anything, the time loop made me.”

…Sure, fine. The time loop spontaneously created an entire being. You think you might be done here.

“Well. I am glad to learn you are not a hallucination, this is the nicest thing I can say to you at the moment.”

“You thought I was a hallucination?” Her eyes light up, she seems way too entertained by that information for your liking. “Oh, what am I saying, of course you did! No wonder you looked so haunted.”

“You could see me,” you state. It’s unnerving, especially with how casually she revealed it. As if it’s nothing.

“Of course. I can hear and see you just about anywhere you end up. I said I'm here to guide you, how can I do that if I don't know what you're doing?” 

So she saw you react to her voice and continued to say extremely confusing things directly into your mind anyway. Wonderful.

“In the future, could you attempt some tact when beaming messages into my mind telepathically?” 

Consequence shrugs, “I can certainly try.”

At least you’ll know what’s happening now, that probably matters more than how much Consequence is actually trying. 

“Right. Farewell, then.” There’s nothing more for you to ask. Well, there are plenty of things you’d ask if you had both the time and confidence that Consequence would actually answer you, but you don’t. So you’re done.

She calls out to you as you exit the cave, “I’ll see you soon…!”

You’re starting to wonder if she just thinks it’s funny to be vaguely threatening like that.

Chapter Text

You’re more than a little unsettled by the implications of your conversation with Consequence, but a bit of unsettlement is better than the state you were in before you went down to the cave. 

Cresting the hill and emerging from the forest into the meadow, you realize that Siffrin fell back to sleep at some point during the conversation. You briefly consider waking them up to tell them that you now know what’s happening to you, but you doubt they’d appreciate that.

No, you should tell Isabeau about this. He’s the one who most deserves an explanation for earlier. Maybe he won't believe you, he might not really be able to grasp it, but that's fine. You have at least made an attempt.

Back in town, you ask if Mirabelle has seen him since you last passed her. She frowns and says no. It seems he’s still by the Favor Tree. You wonder how long he's spent thinking up a favor. Is it that serious? You got the impression it isn't taken as seriously as prayer towards the Change God, but perhaps you misread it. Or maybe everything is serious before the end of the world. You certainly can’t judge either way, considering your little experiment. 

“M’dame!” 

Isabeau is surprised when he sees you, and that's fair. You weren't especially keen on walking all the way back to where you started, but that's how things will go from now on, won't it? Returning to where you started? 

“I'm here to accept your offer,” you state, and you know you're being annoyingly vague. He'll live. 

“My offer…?”

“For that ‘feelings talk,’” you sigh. You're not as annoyed as you made it sound, but the hyperbole feels more honest than not. You want to tell him. There is nothing stopping you. But initiating the discussion feels like pulling teeth. 

He gives you a gentle smile. “Ahh, right. Did you figure it out?”

You nod. “I'm in a time loop.”

It takes a moment for him to process. “What.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I watched Siffrin die, became frozen in time, and then suddenly found myself under the Favor Tree— which is what you saw. That is why I was so suddenly upset.”

He is still looking at you with concern, like you’re crazy. Which, of course, is entirely why you said it like that. You would never lie like that and he knows it. So either you've lost it, or you're telling the truth. It's a nice little binary. 

“M’dame, has anyone ever told you you're terrible at feelings talks?” He walks away, whirls right around and just barely resists grabbing your coat. “What! Do you mean! You are in! A time loop!!”

Right. Start from the beginning. “Well, in fiction, a time loop is when a character, for whatever reason, is forced to repeat a small period of time—”

“I know what time loops are,” he interrupts you, a flash of irritation on his face. “Sorry, sorry, I guess I just… It's a lot to take in so suddenly.”

You let yourself drop the act. “It… yeah. It is. I'm sorry I've been so flippant, I…”

“It's fine,” Isabeau quickly assures, “I'm well aware of your avoidance tactics, M’dame.”

You appreciate when others are upfront with you. Even when it doesn’t quite mesh with how you understand yourself. Avoidant? You aren’t avoidant. You aren’t avoiding this, after all. You’re just private. Not very emotional. 

“Plus,” he continues, “you didn't know what was going on earlier, did you? Am I wrong to assume this is new for you too?”

You nod. “This is my first loop back, so to speak. I honestly can’t even be entirely certain this is a loop yet.”

“Wait, you aren’t even sure?” Isabeau frowns, “I’m surprised, you really aren’t the type of person to jump to conclusions usually?”

“...There’s someone else with me in the time loop. Something else? She isn’t anyone I knew before this.” Maybe calling it a thing is a bit too rude, but you do not want to introduce anyone to Consequence yet, not when you have no idea what its motives are at all. So implying that it’s somewhat ethereal and untouchable could help with that. “She told me I’m in a time loop. She could be lying, of course, but it’d be quite a complicated lie for such little gain.”

“I mean, sometimes people just lie to be an ass,” he points out. “Not that I think that’s what’s going on with her! But you know. You did just meet her, right?”

“Are you implying I’m being too trusting, Isabeau?” It’s a hilarious notion to you at first, you’re the one who thought Siffrin was an assassin at first, after all, but… are you? As critical as you are, you know you have blind spots. “...You might have a point,” you concede, “I’ll be treating this like it’s just a do-over for now. Just in case this isn’t a loop.”

“Probably for the best…!” he laughs nervously. “Um… Change. You said, ah… Do you think we can avoid Sif, well, y'know.”

You nod. “Yes. Yes, we can get much, much further this time. Both because Siffrin's death can be avoided, and because, well. If no one dies, things will probably go much smoother beyond that point as well.”

“That’s… that’s good,” he still looks vaguely uncomfortable. “...I know you’re the one who started this ‘feelings talk’ and all, and I’m not here to judge how you talk about your feelings, but, um. Would you like to… talk about? How you feel? About this?”

Right. There’s an expectation here.

“Well… I don’t feel wonderful,” you admit. Isabeau is still looking at you expectantly. “Being frozen in time didn't hurt, and I doubt anything would continue to be in pain after I looped back here even if it had. But there was… a sizable amount of time after Siffrin died.”

He doesn't respond immediately, you think he’s making sure you’re done talking. Unlike last time you paused he isn't urging more out of you. It's good to know he knows what's realistic. 

“I can't imagine any of us took that well,” he murmurs. “The rest of us were there for the rest of it, right?”

You nod. Maybe if you hadn't been an idiot, you would've seen more of them die in ways you couldn't have possibly prevented. Maybe, in some roundabout way, accidentally throwing yourself into the Tear was for the best. 

“You were focusing your attention on Boniface, I think,” you recount. “I think it was what kept you going, honestly. It was smart.”

“That… sounds right.”

“And Boniface was inconsolable, of course,” you continue, like you’re just recounting the weather. You turn your head towards the Favor Tree, away from Isabeau. “Mirabelle was very determined, once we continued on. I think she managed to channel everything towards hating the King.”

“And you?” 

You knew this was coming. You let Isabeau lead you here. But still, how do you even begin. 

“I don't… remember everything. I was distracted.” 

But would things have been that much different if Consequence didn't convince you that you were hallucinating? You might've been less actively distracted, sure, but would you have been any more focused? 

“I allowed myself to be distracted.”

Isabeau frowns. “Didn't you just say that distracting myself by focusing on Bonnie was smart? Don't be so hard on yourself.”

You shake your head minutely. “I wasn't present. You were focused on something real, I was just off in my own head. I wasn't fully there in a critical moment and that had… consequences.” You grimace slightly. Suddenly it feels weird to use that word, already so associated with the being who claimed that it did not need a name.

“And I think that's fine, I wouldn't blame you.”

That doesn't mean much to you, especially when you're fairly sure that Isabeau would forgive just about anyone. This must show on your face, because he continues.

“Look, what I’m saying is that I think it’s expected that you wouldn’t act your best in that situation? Like, you can feel guilt over whatever happened. That’s allowed, probably healthy to some extent, but Siffrin… died? Fully? Mira’s anger probably wasn’t helping, I was probably in more of a… state than you noticed… someone was going to crab up eventually.”

That… is a pretty sound argument, actually. The guilt is still going to gnaw at you on its own time— you know this— and you do question how “probably healthy” that actually is… but he’s right, generally. That venture into the house was probably doomed from the start.

What a sobering thought.

You nod slowly. “I should… yes. You’re right. Thank you Isabeau,” you give him a small smile. “This was painful, if I’m being honest, but I needed to talk about it. If this really is a time loop, I’m going to want to make sure I’m keeping myself regular, so! Feelings talks may be regular in my future. As much as I loathe the concept.”

Isabeau looks at you with… fond concern? That sounds wrong, but you’re not the best at this, are you? You don’t think it’s pity, you would like to think Isabeau respects you more than that. 

“And hey, if you ever do end up losing it a bit? Don’t beat yourself up about it too hard.”

You chuckle a bit. You aren’t planning on ‘losing it’ anytime soon. 

“I'll try my best.”

It looks like Isabeau is preparing to respond to that, but before he can actually say anything, his attention is stolen by an approaching figure.

“Oh, Sif! Hey!”

Siffrin looks between the two of you. He doesn't look surprised that you're here, Mirabelle probably let them know where you went, but, well. This would be abnormal of you regardless. Not that you haven't already been acting extremely abnormal in front of him already. 

“M’dame and I were just talking through uh, plans for tomorrow. Battle strategy and all that.”

You roll your eyes, “no we weren't.” You fix Siffrin with a look. “It wasn't a premonition, Siffrin, it was time travel.”

“What?” They blink. “Oh. So that conversation was real?” 

You wince. “I'm truly sorry I woke you up like that… but yes. It was real. I was very relieved to see you alive, to be completely honest. This time I’m sure we can keep you relatively safe, that really shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll be alright. I’m sorry if I scared you earlier.”

You don’t notice at first, but by the end of your rambling, Siffrin’s face is completely screwed up in confusion, and now you’re wondering what you could’ve possibly forgotten to mention.

“She’s in a time loop, is what she’s trying to say,” Isabeau explains. “Or, well, we don’t know for sure if it’s a time loop, but she’s already gone through a bit of the House tomorrow.”

…Ah. That’s what it was. You nod. “Yes, that.”

Siffrin kind of just stands there for a while, which makes sense. It’s a lot to take in. He shuffles a bit under his cloak. 

“...Okay,” they respond. “Well. We’re having a sleepover at the clocktower, so…”

You nod. “Right. You came to tell me that last time.”

Siffrin nods slowly. “Well um, Mirabelle told me to come and tell you, so…”

Ah, that's new information. It does make sense that this was Mirabelle's idea. 

“Oh, yeah,” Isabeau cuts in. “M’dame, were you planning on telling Mirabelle about the time loop thing as well?”

You blink, surprised by the question. “Of course? You two already know, so keeping it from her would be a bit silly. This is something that affects all of us, affects how we approach the House tomorrow. Of course I'll tell her.”

Isabeau hums. “I'm just a bit surprised, I guess. That you're telling everyone? Usually that takes like, a good dozen or so loops in most time loop stories. And you're usually a pretty private person?”

“Isabeau… You found me crying under the Favor Tree? The least that you deserve is an explanation for that.”

He shrugs. “I mean, I would’ve been fine without one. Like you said, we’re all stressed right now. I would’ve been fine if you wanted to put it off until after we beat the King, at least.”

You frown. That’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t even know when you’re going to get to that point. Now is the time to collect yourself.

“...Are you gonna tell Bonnie too?” Siffrin asks.

The question makes you pause. Would Boniface even understand what’s happening? Surely— it’s not that complicated of a concept, and they’re smarter than the others often assume, but… maybe they wouldn’t?

“I’ll try,” is what you settle on. 

“Fair enough,” Siffrin responds with a shrug. He looks between you and Isabeau, and you see the gears turning in his head. “Uh. We're fighting the King tomorrow…”

You grimace. You do not think you can do smalltalk right now. 

“I'm going to the clocktower,” you state instead of following Siffrin’s lead. Isabeau gives you a concerned look. “I'm fine, I just need to have some time to myself.” 

“...That’s fair,” Isabeau concedes. “See you later!”

Siffrin just waves at you as you leave. You think they’ll appreciate having some more private conversation with Isabeau, even if they do look a bit guilty as you walk off. 

It's early, you know it's early. You could go to Dormont's little general store like you did last time, but there's barely anything of use there and you just… a lot has happened. You know the shopkeeper will attempt to talk to you. You can't do that right now. You need to lie down. Decompress. 

The clocktower is empty. You're used to returning to temporary residences at this point, you were used to it before you even reached Vaugarde, but considering the majority of the places you've stayed have been staffed or otherwise had other inhabitants, you've grown to find it strange to return to an empty residence. You're not sure when that happened. 

Regardless, you enter the clocktower. You ascend to the bedroom and sit on your bed. It’s quiet. You reach for your Craft journal. You highly doubt any notes you make in it will last, but you’ve heard somewhere that the act of writing something down itself makes one more likely to remember it. So you take some notes.

Time Loop:

• Starts at the foot of the Favor Tree.
• I remember what happens, Consequence remembers what happens. No one else. 
• Con. spoke to me before the time loop started. ←? Or had it already "started" because I was beyond the point I loop back to?
• Con. stated that "the time loop made [it]" whatever that means.
• I loop back after being frozen in time, death, or "some other, less obvious triggers." (according to Con.)
• Equipping memories? Test in House. 
• Con. may genuinely not know what roadblocks will reveal themselves in the House. She wants me to believe otherwise. Gems know why. 
• No clear end point, no clear "win condition." Con. does not know how to end the loops. Near certain about that.

You hum. That’s about it, isn’t it? So much has happened, but that’s all you know. 

As you think, your idle hands move on to filling the margins between your new collection of notes and the spine with small overlapping squares. The book is filled with little doodles like these, dense with both information and the idle marks from your pondering. You’ll untangle your feelings, you always do.

Mirabelle is the first to return to the clocktower after your early retirement. Instead of waiting outside for everyone like last time, you hear her open the front door from your bed upstairs. You sigh, standing up. It’s about time you told her, isn’t it?

“Mirabelle,” you call from the stairs as you start to descend, just so she knows you’re there.

“Oh!” she gasps, “Madame Odile! I hope I didn’t wake you, are you alright?”

You smile. “I wasn’t sleeping, you’re fine.”

“Right! I forgot you don’t really like naps…” she fidgets with her brooch as she trails off. “Still, Isabeau said something happened? Or something’s going on? He was pretty vague about it, but I don’t know, considering tomorrow…”

“...Are you about to suggest that I should stay behind?” you ask, because it’s just about what she asked last time.

Mirabelle nods emphatically. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to come! Especially if you aren’t feeling well, or if something happened, or…”

Oh Mirabelle… this time you think you have a better way to approach this. Better than telling her it’s too late for much else, even if it is. 

“I’ve been making the choice to stay with you this entire time, Mirabelle. I could’ve left at any point, I could’ve gone home. But I haven’t. I’m all the way here, in the center of Vaugarde, in the last little village left moving. I want to be here. Of course I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“O-oh!” She seems surprised at your verbose answer. “I… guess I’ve never thought about it like that… that’s actually really…” she sniffs. “That’s really nice?? I’d hug you, but I know you’re not really, y’know.”

“...Actually,” you start, hoping you won't regret what you're about to say, “considering the day I've had, I think a hug could be nice.”

Your mind drifts back to when you were hovering over Siffrin. Gems, you really don't know what to do with yourself sometimes. 

Mirabelle lights up at your words. “Oh! Yes! Absolutely, yes I will give you a hug!!”

You hold a finger up. “Just… keep it short, and keep it, erm, light…?” that felt like the wrong word. “Don't crush me.”

She giggles. “Alright Madame. One small hug, just for you.”

She's very gentle, and for that you're grateful. She's there for a couple seconds, and then she leaves. You felt her press up against you, you felt her hair tickle your face, her breath on your sternum. All things you've never liked about hugs, but all things that prove to you that she is real. That you're here.

”Was that alright…?” she asks, looking nervous. You're realizing you just kind of stood there the entire time, unresponsive. 

“Yes, of course,” you assure. “Thank you, Mirabelle.”

“You're welcome,” she murmurs in reply, seemingly unconvinced. You stifle a sigh, that definitely wouldn't help. 

“I should probably actually tell you what's been eating me up today, hm?”

“You don't have to!” she insists.

“I want everyone to know,” you explain. “It affects everyone, after all.”

Mirabelle nods.

“Right. I am currently in a time loop.”

Mirabelle… blinks. Waits. Chuckles nervously. “Haha… um. What’s the actual thing though?”

“I’m being serious, Mirabelle. I’m in a time loop,” you smile to yourself. “You’ve actually been the hardest one to convince so far.”

Mirabelle’s eyes widen. “If you’re messing with me, Madame…”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you reassure. “Especially not today.”

She nods minutely. “Yeah, yeah. You wouldn’t do that.” She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath.

“In that case…” Mirabelle’s eyes snap back open, concerned. “Are you okay?? I mean, I guess you probably aren't, considering Isabeau said you weren't but... How many loops has it been?? Do you need any help with it?”

You blink. “I— well, I'm doing better now. This is just the first time I've been sent back, I'm mostly just getting oriented, I suppose…”

“Your first loop? And you've already told us about it!” She looks so relieved. “That does make sense for you, honestly... but I think that's a good sign! I'm sure you'll figure things out in no time! Out of all of us, I think you'd be the best at avoiding some of the common pitfalls that come up in time loop stories, ha…”

“I’m sure your genre awareness would come in handy if it were you, Mirabelle,” you smirk. “I might have to pick your brain later on for things I should watch out for.”

She laughs awkwardly, “...I’m actually, ah. Kind of glad I’m not the one in the time loop. It’d make a lot of sense if it was me! But… oh Change, I’m sounding like a complete crab right now, I—”

“No, I know what you’re saying,” you interrupt. “You’ve had enough chosen one nonsense on your plate for long enough, I think it’s only fair that someone else should take that on for once.”

She sighs, relieved. “Honestly, I’m just glad to know we’ll have several chances at this, I… Change. It’s kind of surreal! A time loop! That’s super cool!!”

You chuckle and let her talk.

“...I mean, it probably won’t be so cool the whole time… but! But!! Oh this is just like in the Cursing of Château Castle issue #71 when it’s revealed that Pierre-Jacques-Erneste had gone on a really complicated journey through time to subtly help Lord Joséphandre throughout the entire series up to that point!! Um, I mean, it was probably just a way to explain away a bunch of plot holes… but! It helped cement Pierre-Jacques-Erneste as someone who had truly redeemed himself! The part where he had to see himself betray the party and relive his whole arc… ohh! You could really feel how guilty he felt…”

You… nod.

“...Maybe it isn’t that similar. But I guess…” her face falls. “I guess I won’t remember that hug I just gave you, will I?”

Ah. “There’s nothing that says this won’t be both the first and last loop,” you point out. That’s a lie, of course— Consequence told you that there would be more loops— but you aren’t trusting her yet. What does it know?

Mirabelle just shakes her head. “That’s not… This wouldn’t even be a time loop if that happened, Madame. And I know you didn’t lie to me earlier, you know this is a time loop. If you weren’t sure you wouldn’t have been so insistent!”

You glance away from her. 

“...In the Cursing of Château Castle issue #71, um. There’s a lot of… I don’t know. You’re learning that Pierre-Jacques-Erneste went on this time travel journey from Lord Joséphandre’s perspective. And Lord Joséphandre wasn’t there for any of it. Pierre-Jacques-Erneste went on this entire life changing arc, and for Lord Joséphandre he had been gone for maybe an hour! And I just want to say, um. We’re probably going to miss a lot of the stuff you do in these time loops. For some things that might! Be a good thing! But I can’t imagine that won’t be disorienting for you, that it won’t Change you! And as a Housmaiden of Change, and your friend, I just want to say I’ll always be okay with that!”

“Oh,” is all you can respond to that with. You don’t think you’ve ever fully considered that aspect of things, but it makes sense. “...Thank you,” you add on as an afterthought. It is very thoughtful of her.

She nods seriously. “And so you’re able to get me to believe you quicker in the future, I will give you a piece of information you can only get from me. So you can prove you’re in a time loop.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frown. She can keep her secrets if she wants to.

“I want to!” She insists. “It’ll help in the future, I might not be as understanding about whatever happens if I don’t know any of the context.” She sighs, “plus… I have kind of been wanting to get this off of my chest for a while.”

“Alright.”

“Right, okay, Change. I can tell you this. I can do it.” She takes a deep breath in, and then exhales. “I… the Head Housemaiden is the one who gave me her blessing, not the Change God.”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting. “She was able to give you immunity to the Curse?”

Mirabelle shrugs weakly. “She’s a very powerful Craft user, so if anyone could it’d be her…! I’m… still not sure why she gave her blessing to me and not herself…” 

“Perhaps she knew she wouldn’t have been able to do anything incredibly useful with it?” you suggest. “She would’ve been a fairly obvious target for the King, it was probably much easier for you to escape the House unharmed.”

“I… guess…” she responds slowly. You’re starting to think that wasn’t the best way to reassure her.

“...Aside from that though, you are here. You’ve found all the orbs. We’re about to fight the King. I think that’s proof enough that you’re ‘worthy’ of her blessing.”

“I didn’t find all of the orbs, though!” she protests. “You found one, Isabeau found one…”

“And you found us, so I’d say that’s about the same. You’ve been a very good leader for this little party of ours.”

She chuckles nervously. “I… Thank you, Madame? But um! Yeah. That’s my secret. If you tell me you’re in a time loop and I’ve told you that, I will probably believe you a lot faster!”

You nod. You don’t think you’ve completely soothed her anxieties around the Head Housemaiden’s blessing, but you weren’t necessarily expecting to be able to do that. This is a fine enough place to let things rest if Mirabelle is content with it, and so you leave it be.

It isn’t long after your conversation with Mirabelle when the rest of your party returns to the clocktower for the night. Isabeau says hello to you and Mirabelle when he enters, and then he goes back out to wait for Siffrin to return. You’re leafing through a Vaugardian-Poterian dictionary the clocktower happened to have when you notice Boniface has joined Isabeau outside, and it’s only just getting dark by the time Siffrin returns. Just like last time.

Right. There’s only one more person who doesn’t know about the time loop. You wait until they’re settling into preparing ingredients for dinner to tell them.

“Boniface, I’ve told everyone else at this point, and since you’re part of the team, I thought I should tell you as well.”

They glance back at you, clearly very curious. You have somewhat implied that they’re about to learn some sort of juicy adult secret.

“I’m in a time loop.”

They frown. “Dile, I don’t know what that means.”

You smile. In a party full of overcomplicated adults, you’re glad for Boniface’s straightforwardness sometimes.

“Well, the concept is found in fiction mostly, I don’t think anyone thought it was possible in real life before.”

Boniface looks like they’re on the same page so far, intrigued by your mysterious fiction concept.

“When someone’s in a time loop, it means they’ll repeat a set period of time over and over again until some sort of condition is met to release them.”

“Dile,” they’re frowning now, “I think this is the fastest you’ve run out of small words to explain something to me. That didn’t make any sense.”

Gems, how to explain… you’re fairly certain you couldn’t get much simpler than how you already put it. An example, maybe?

“Imagine… alright,” just a simple time loop plot should work. Setup, repetition, win condition. “Imagine you had a nice day planned to… do something enjoyable with your sister. But as the day goes on, every single part of your plan goes wrong. You go to sleep feeling terrible, but when you wake up the next morning… your sister doesn't remember the horrible day, she reminds you of the plans you had— the plans that you thought failed yesterday. The newspaper is the same as yesterday's, same date, same headlines. Do you understand what happened?”

Boniface purses their lips. “Um… time travel?”

You nod. “Exactly.”

“So you time traveled??” they squint up at you.

“Well, yes? But there’s more to it than that,” you’re having a hard time gauging if Boniface is excited or disbelieving. “If we go back to my example… redoing the day would give you a second chance with your plans, yes? But with how horrible things ended up the first time, a second chance wouldn't do much to mitigate all of the disaster, so you go to sleep unsatisfied again… and then wake up on that same day again. You have another chance.”

“Would I get as many as I want?” their eyes shine. “Do I get to make it the perfect day?”

You hum. “You wouldn't just know if you have all the chances you want,” you say, because that's how you felt. “But yes, essentially. In the simplest versions of things, you would repeat that day until you learned how to fully achieve your perfect day. You'd memorize every little problem that happens— it'd all happen exactly the same every time unless you did something to influence it— and then you'd learn how to fix everything. Once you got it all perfect you would be out of the time loop.”

“That’d be pretty nice,” they mutter. You chuckle. With the stakes you're up against, you can't help but agree. 

“That's the most straightforward solution, though. If the story were a bit more clever, the solution might be to give up on your initial plans entirely, maybe you and your sister have a nice day doing something different, or maybe you two have a heart to heart in the middle of the disaster. Whatever solves the time loop tends to be different between stories, it's based more on what would be the most satisfying narratively than anything else. So really, I'm not sure how mine will end.”

“Well obviously it'll be when we save the day, right?” Boniface scoffs. “I think that's the best place to end a story, at the end.”

You chuckle. “I wish I had your confidence.” 

They just roll their eyes at that. “Whatever, I’m probably right. You'll win and save the day and say something like ‘oh that? It wasn't even hard,’ and then I'll go home and see my sister.”

“Of course,” you concede, a soft smile on your face. “Thank you for being patient with my explanation.”

“It was important adult-y stuff!” they argue, “Of course I paid attention.”

It does make sense that Boniface would still think of it as “adult,” it's confusing, impacts your journey in ways that are hard to grasp, has unpleasant implications. It's something that could've very easily been kept from them. You know they feel frustrated about their lack of contributions to the battles you'll have in the House. You wonder if this gives them any sort of relief from that. 

“I'm glad you found it as important as I do,” you say. “I'll leave you to actually start on dinner.”

Boniface pouts. “You don't have to leave! I can cook with you here.”

You raise an eyebrow. This has, in the past, been an offer they've regretted. You are not the best companion for cooking. You're not much help, the suggestions you do make are often unwanted, and you have a habit of managing to be standing in front of whatever Boniface is trying to get at more than half of the time.  

“...Okay maybe I don't want to cook with you in here but!! I like when you're around most of the time. So don't disappear reading some book forever!”

You chuckle. “I won't miss out on dinner, Boniface. I can promise that.”

They smile, and you leave the kitchen. 

As Boniface prepares dinner, Siffrin approaches you again. You suppose they didn’t get a chance to ask you everything they did last time.

“Do you still want me in the front tomorrow?” he asks, “I figured I’d ask, since, um…”

The question takes you by surprise, even though they asked the same thing last time. You haven’t really considered changing that, have you? You have ample reason to take the lead, but… you still don’t know the House. Siffrin may have missed one trap, but he’s still the best at finding them in general. You should be prepared to encounter more.

“Yes, of course. There are likely plenty of traps in the House I haven’t encountered yet. I’ll assist you where I can with my foreknowledge, but I don’t have much of that yet.”

They nod, frowning slightly. You… can’t really tell what to make of it. 

“What will you do after?”

Again, you should’ve expected this, but with how avoidant Siffrin’s answer was when you asked him the same thing, you were under the impression that it was only a passing curiosity.

You hum. “I probably have some extra time to think about it, don’t I? I’ll probably just start to make my way home, though. I don’t really…” you trail off. You really haven’t thought this far, have you? Even after Siffrin asked last time. 

Siffrin hums. “Does that mean you’re done with your research, then?”

Urgh. Your ‘research.’ You sigh. “Yes, yes. I’m just about done,” you better be. You better be.

“Just about?” Siffrin repeats, a smirk growing on his face. “Is it king-killing-ology?”

You snort, that’s worse than usual. “It would be regicide-ology if it were real, and no. That is not my field of research.”

"But it is the field of research you spent your life trying to create..."

They said this last time, didn’t they? A bit of a shame.

“In your dreams, maybe,” you reply.

Siffrin laughs, making their way back downstairs.

Dinner is… something. It’s the same food Boniface made last time, of course, which is something you don’t mind at all, but the others keep stealing glances at you. They don’t know how to address the elephant in the room. 

You clear your throat. “For the record, you all know about the time loop at this point. You’re allowed to talk about it if you want.”

Isabeau lets out a visible exhale. “I just can’t stop thinking about it,” he admits. “Especially since it’s so early on and you don’t…” he glances at Boniface, “know how it works yet?” 

“I won’t do anything risky tomorrow,” you reassure. 

Isabeau sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…” he trails off and glances at Mirabelle. “Are you holding up alright?”

Mirabelle jumps at the address. “Oh, me? I’m pretty much fine? I mean, everything’s still super stressful, but it’s kind of a relief to know that if we mess up it won’t be the end of the world?”

Isabeau glances at you with a frown. It’s not your fault that Mirabelle agrees with your assessment that Consequence is telling the truth about it actually being a time loop. Not that you told her about the Consequence part.

Boniface huffs. “Yeah I don’t know what you’re so worried about, Za. Dile’s gonna fix anything that goes wrong and then we’ll kick the King’s crabbing butt.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right Bonbon,” Isabeau admits with a chuckle. It… doesn’t sound very sincere. “I’m sure everything will be fine!”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the table, and Isabeau shifts his gaze towards Siffrin. Curious, you look over at them as well, and something in their panicked expression makes you think that Mirabelle and Boniface may have also followed Isabeau’s gaze.

“...I think it's fine?” Siffrin squeaks. “I dunno? As long as Odile’s doing okay I guess?”

You chuckle. “It’s alright Siffrin. You don’t need a complex opinion on the time loop.”

He just looks embarrassed after your comment. What an anomaly.

Dinner wraps up soon enough, the same compliments are given to the chef. Mirabelle steps up to speak, just like she did last time.

“Um, everyone… Can I… say something?”

Presumably she won’t ask you again, but it does make sense that she would still be worried about the others.

Isabeau speaks up again. “What's up, Mira?”

“Um… I already talked to Madame Odile about this, but…” she clears her throat. 

“We... We've all been traveling together for a while now. It hasn't always been easy, but meeting you all… Traveling through Vaugarde to get the Orbs needed to open the House's Gate again… There's no way I could've done this alone. I… I want to say thank you... For coming with me this far!”

This is just about the same, which makes sense. Of course she still wants to thank everyone. 

Her face falls as she continues.

“But tomorrow, we'll go and fight the King… a-and the whole time loop thing is a factor, which is a new source of stress and! I-I’ll try my very best to protect you, to prevent you from becoming frozen in time, and I’m sure Madame Odile will try her best as well…! But… there’s no guarantee that tomorrow will be the one, so to speak. There’s… a good chance of failure. So I want to give everyone the opportunity to stay back if they want.”

You glance at Isabeau.

“Mirabelle,” he begins, “we’re with you. I promise. I don’t care about the time loop stuff, not really. We’ve got your back. Can’t leave you behind.”

“Yeah!” Boniface agrees. “We'll follow you, Belle!!! We'll help!!! Don't worry!!! And we’ll kick the time loop’s butt!!”

You chuckle. “It’d be a bit of a drag on my experimentation this time around if it was suddenly just me and you, Mirabelle. They’re coming.”

Siffrin gives her a small smile. “We'll stay with you, Mira.”

“Oh… Oh, thank you...!”

The trio of huggers in your party hug once again, Mirabelle just as relieved as she was last time. You glance at Siffrin and the two of you exchange your own smiles.

“...Let's go to bed!” Mirabelle decides once the hug concludes. 

“We have a big day tomorrow!” Isabeau agrees.

You nod in vague agreement. “Goodnight, everyone.”

Boniface is the last one to say their enthusiastic “G'night!!!” 

You have no reason to think this would go any different, but it’s… odd. The conversation during dinner was different, Mirabelle’s speech had different notes, but with something as simple as those goodnights you have the odd feeling that those were the same exact things everyone else said the first time around. You can’t be sure, of course, you aren’t memorizing what they’re saying, but… it felt familiar. Deja vu, as they say. You don’t think you’re all too fond of it. 

…Those are musings for tomorrow, though. You are tired. Sleep will do you good.

You wake to your party members whisper-yelling. Again.

“SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!”

“YEAH ISABEAU! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH AND SLEEP!”

“YOU CLOSE YOUR MOUTH, HOUSEMAIDEN! YOU'RE GONNA WAKE UP M'DAME ODILE!”

You were able to find this somewhat endearing, last time. Barely, but it was there. But right now you’re just realizing that you will have to endure this every. Single. Time.

You fold your pillow over your head and groan. You don’t really care what it’ll do to your hair tomorrow. You need sleep, desperately.

“Oh no, did this also happen last time..?” Mirabelle frets. “I’m sorry, Madame! We’ll let you sleep!”

You… sigh. They’re trying, aren’t they? It’s not their fault that this moment has been locked in time. 

They quiet down just as quickly as they did last time, even without you threatening them, and you fall back to sleep not too long after.

Your preparations the next day go about the same as they did the first time. You’re a bit faster, maybe, but you’re still just as bleary as you were the first time, and you think you’ve already wrangled your hair up into its bun enough times that you’re confident the lengthy process won’t get any faster.

…Interestingly, you can’t seem to find Strange Vexillology: an Incomplete History of Mystery, the book you attempted to throw at the Tear. It’s not a massive issue; it wasn’t even a very good book to use as a backup weapon, but you’d prefer not to have to ‘borrow’ a book from the clocktower. Still, you like having a backup, and so you pick up a hardcover storybook. It’s thin, but the binding seems sturdy enough. Might be a bit faster to swing around as well. It’ll work just as well as your last backup.

That’s the only thing of interest, though. You pick up your Orb, and leave with the rest of your party. 

Absently, you wonder why the Gate is so big.

“The House's Gate, huh?” Isabeau comments as you approach. “It's bigger than I thought! So scary!”

It’s the same as last time, of course. Five slots, five orbs, five party members. You don’t have reason to comment on it.

“This whole adventure… This whole journey…” Mirabelle murmurs. It really is uncanny how familiar the dialogue gets when you don’t do anything to influence it. You have no reason to interrupt at the moment, but you don’t like what this implies for later. “After all this time… I can finally open it!”

“I have my Orb right here!” 

That’s Boniface…

“Let's go for it, then!”

…And Isabeau. Siffrin is the first to offer their orb to the Gate, and the rest of you follow suit.

[Oh, right. Hello, you. I’m talking in your head. Is this enough warning?]

You subtly nod, rolling your eyes. You’re not sure if Consequence saw, you’re not sure what it sees, actually. You doubt it matters much.

[You don’t have to cling onto every little word they say, you know. Especially if it’s just the same thing over and over again.]

[It hasn’t really come up yet, has it? You’ve been doing so well keeping things nice and fresh.]

[In moments like this, you’re completely safe to let yourself be distracted. Pretend to be taking notes, or something. Or take actual notes! Whatever works. You may not notice if some things are a tad different— you are acting differently by not paying attention, after all— but if anything big happens, you’ll snap back to attention. I promise.]

She promises. There is probably some truth in that, you don't think your party would let you remain that distracted during something important, but still… you can't help but doubt her. You don't see yourself needing to distract yourself much in the near future, though, so you tuck the information (and your suspicion) away for later. 

It's time to enter the House, after all. It's time for try two.

Chapter Text

“Oh! Up ahead, that's...!”

Right. Mirabelle was anxious about this last time as well, right? And then you directed a tutorial that lasted for what felt like an hour, and then Siffrin died.

“A Sadness,” you state. “We’ll be fine, we’re professionals.”

Mirabelle nods, frowning in determination. “O-okay everyone, let's, um, uh—”

“Don't get overwhelmed now!” Isabeau says, one eyebrow quirked. Gems, she’s still anxious, isn’t she?

“We did this last time, we can do it again,” you say, sending a small smile Mirabelle’s way. She doesn’t respond.

After you, Boniface tries their own hand at encouraging her. “Don't worry, Belle! We can take care of them no problem!!!”

“O-okay, but…”

It seems like you’ll need to think of something more convincing to reassure her. You’re trying to formulate something before…

“Oh my, should we go over strategy again~?"

Oh no. No no no no no. Siffrin’s playful suggestion sends a chill of deja vu down your spine. You do not want to do this again.

Regardless of your feelings, though, the battle starts. You swallow back your complaints. They taste bitter.

“Phew... Okay, okay…”

It’s… probably good for Mirabelle. If this really is what she needs.

“Don’t forget we’re here, Mirabelle,” you remind her. “If you should focus on anything, it’s healing.”

She nods your way, grateful. You continue.

“Right. I can start this little tutorial off by Examining the Sadness, if you let me.”

The others nod, and the turn passes to you.

“Examine,” you mutter. You already know this Sadness is about as uninteresting as they come, but the Craft skill also gives you the time to continue talking.

“This is a Sadness, we all know what Sadnesses are. Every Sadness has a different resistance and weakness to the three offensive Craft types. We can usually glean this information by looking at their hands. This one is Scissors type, weak to Rock.”

You rattle through the information, and before anyone can say anything else, you end Examine and mutter “Rock III.”

“I can trust you all to finish taking care of this one.”

Siffrin almost misses his turn, clumsily passing it on to Isabeau, who finishes off the Sadness.

“...Madame, did you do all this last time?”

You turn to Mirabelle after she speaks. Her mouth is pressed together in worry, but it’s not the same anxiety as before. She’s worried about you.

Gems. “It’s fine, you needed some reassurance and I was happy to give it.”

“You didn’t… seem very happy to do it?” she counters.

You sigh. “I don’t mind, it was faster than last time. Let’s just continue.”

The next bit of hallway also has Sadnesses, the two that made up the rest of the little tutorial.

“Oh! More Sadnesses…” Mirabelle yelps.

You’re about to tell Siffrin that he can try to avoid them, but then you remember what comes directly after this hallway. It’s the Death Corridor.

“We’ll make quick work of these ones as well,” you say instead. Having this room clear will allow for some amount of rest between dangers.

“A-and I’m fine!” Mirabelle asserts, not sounding fine at all. “Don't worry about me! We don’t need to talk any more strategy.”

You’re not sure how much you believe that. Is reducing monotony for yourself really worth leaving Mirabelle anxious? Gems.

The next battle starts, you clear your throat.

“This one is Rock type,” you say, “weak to Paper.”

Mirabelle glances over at you, confused. Concerned maybe? There’s no winning.

“Just make sure to adhere to the cooldowns for your Craft abilities,” you soldier on, “we don’t want anyone to exhaust themselves.”

“And most of the time an ability being on cooldown is fine,” Mirabelle cuts in, similar to how she did last time, “but it might be dangerous with healing skills! I'll try to make sure to use my healing skills carefully, so I don't run out at a dangerous moment…”

“But even if that happens,” Isabeau adds, “there's items to recharge our cooled down skills, and there might even be skills and equipment out there to help out!”

You nod. “Right. We should be able to take care of this Sadness, then.”

And take care of the Sadness you do. The only one remaining is the strangely bulky one, the one where, last time, Isabeau stupidly took a hit for you for the sake of the tutorial.

“For this next one, let's just aim to get a Jackpot,” you say right before Siffrin initiates another battle. “And Isabeau, there is absolutely no need for you to shield me from its attacks, it’s Paper type. I’ll be fine.”

Isabeau glances at you, uncertain. “...If you’re sure.”

You wave him off. You had been confused when he had shielded you from the attack the first time. He’s the one weak to Paper craft, not you. You’ll be fine.

For the first three turns, you’re correct. Things are absolutely fine. The scissors jackpot has been building beautifully. The irregular strength of this Sadness is still slowly being whittled down by you and your party.

And then the Sadness attacks. Isabeau definitely takes notice, but doesn’t react. You prepare to tank the hit.

A slap of Craft slams into your chest, forcing air from your lungs. You blink, the attack was much stronger than you were anticipating. You stumble back, knees buckling. You push past the pain in order to guarantee that you land on the floor somewhat safely. You’ve been downed.

“Ah! Madame!!!”

You hear Mirabelle’s panic past your tired delirium. Absently, you’re reminded that Isabeau had been able to speak when he had been hit by this same attack. He hadn’t been completely knocked out. While you may still be conscious, you don’t think you can push enough to do that.

“Hey, it’s okay, we were planning on doing a Jackpot, right? We don’t even have to use any Crafted Water or anything.”

Isabeau. He was right. What an idiot you were. Isabeau might be weaker to paper attacks, but he is also bulkier. Hardier. His decision to shield you the first time had been more calculated than you had thought.

“Right! And a Jackpot can revive for free.”

“Yup. Both you and Siffrin are up next, so that’ll be the next two Scissors attacks we need. We’ll be fine.”

The conversation floats above you, and before you know it, Craft flows through you and you’re able to stand back up to complete the Jackpot Skill. Nothing damaged more than your pride, really. The battle is over.

“So, uh, mind telling me what that was M’dame?” Isabeau asks.

“Just did some math wrong,” you mutter, “thought we could avoid a knockout.”

Isabeau does not look fully convinced, but drops the subject.

You turn to Mirabelle. “Are you feeling more confident?”

She jumps. “I… I guess? But I was already feeling more confident before! You didn’t need to keep repeating all that information.”

“I slimmed it down quite a bit.”

“Still…!” She chuckles weakly. “You can cut it off early next time, I don’t think I’ll mind too much! Especially if I know about the time loop.”

You hum. “I did want this room clear anyway, but I suppose we can clear it without the pretense of a tutorial. I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Siffrin glances back at you, pausing at the doorway. “You wanted this room clear… Is there something in here?”

You grimace. “There’s nothing in here specifically, but this next hallway is where things started going… poorly. Last time.”

Peeking inside, Mirabelle gasps. “I recognize this corridor! Oh no!! This is the Death Corridor, isn’t it?”

You think you hear Boniface snickering a bit behind you, but you nod. “Yes, it’s an… accurate name.”

Boniface stops snickering.

“Siffrin, I want you to spend extra time and attention examining the pillars in there. There should be some sort of way to deactivate the trap in one of them, and you need to find it before it activates. You didn’t find it last time, but that could very easily be because none of us were… really taking it all that seriously,” you glance away, guilty. “...I’ll come with you, actually. To make sure we find it.” Not that you’re particularly good at finding these sorts of things, but. You’d rather be there.

Siffrin nods seriously. “...Alright,” he agrees, not really looking at you as you move to their side.

The two of you check the pillars. You don’t really know what you’re looking for, but Siffrin is taking it more seriously than they did the first time, which is something of a relief. Said relief wanes with each pillar checked, though, and you’re almost ready to call for a second examination of each pillar when you hear a sharp inhale and a whispered curse as Siffrin finishes his examination of the last pillar.

A soft click is the only warning you get before the boulder crashes down once again. You're standing ramrod straight. Siffrin is okay, though. The rest of the party stayed behind in the previous room. It's fine. Everyone is fine.

Siffrin is staring at the pillar with the switch like it had offended them personally. Even on closer inspection, even with Siffrin’s stare to guide your search, you can't make out the switch yourself… At least you know he's able to find it himself when prompted seriously enough. And you know which pillar it is. Second one on the right. Easy to remember.

“Right. Right. We're all fine,” you assure, voice less confident than you’d like.

With Siffrin leading and you not making any brash decisions, the first floor is easy. After a bit of search and experimentation, you find and defeat a strange Sadness that holds some sort of Crest that somehow has the ability to clear away Tears. You ignore your nagging questions about that serendipity. You find one key, two keys. You fight Sadnesses. Nothing else of note happens. You all get through just fine. You try not to think about how easy it all was.

You’re rewarded with another shrine bell once you’ve finished all that. You need to ask Consequence about that, don’t you? You really do not know what she meant when she said you could save your progress. You’re really not sure what was “saved” during that first loop. That doesn’t stop you from ringing the bells every time you pass them, though. Just in case.

At the very end of the first floor is a larger Sadness, one likely made up of the cumulative despair of multiple of the House’s frozen residents. Despite the fact that it’s stronger, despite its trick of changing its Craft type, despite the need for tonics, this battle goes smoothly as well. There has not yet been an insurmountable challenge. Nothing except the shattering Death Corridor.

“This room feels different than the others, doesn't it?” Isabeau notes as you all march on into the room past the stronger Sadness. “It's missing the threatening pressure the rest of the House has.”

You exhale. “Thank Gems, I…” you pause. “Does anyone else need a break?”

Mirabelle nods seriously. “Yes! Yes, absolutely. You should rest!”

Boniface perks up. “Is it time? MY TIME TO BE LEADER?”

Mirabelle’s stomach growls, almost in response to the question.

“THERE IT IS! IT'S SNACKS TIME, BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!”

You gently smile, glad that Boniface is getting a moment to shine.

“Snacks are important to keep hunger away and keep morale up!” They lecture, setting up a little snack preparation station in the corner. “I learned that because I'm a growing kid!”

“That sure is true!” Isabeau agrees, sitting down. The rest of the party follows along.

“You guys stay here!” Boniface tells you all, heading off to the corner of the room. “I'll get started!!!”

“...Are you alright, Madame?” Mirabelle asks once Boniface is distracted. It’s not a discussion inappropriate for Boniface per se, but you’re somewhat glad Mirabelle is asking while they’re distracted. They have enough going on.

You sigh, “just need a break, really. Some time to gather my thoughts.”

She nods slowly, but you see her biting at her lip. “I’m really sorry about being so anxious at the beginning there, Madame. I really do think I’ll be okay even if we don’t do that!”

“I know, I know. I’m keeping it in mind,” you sigh. “I really don’t want you worrying about my patience of all things, though. I can repeat myself as many times as I need to.”

Mirabelle looks… doubtful? You’re impressed, honestly. “It’s a time loop, you’ll get sick of things. That’s how these go! It’s only your second loop and you already seemed so frustrated with it. I don’t… I don’t know.”

You hum. “Well, if this is a full time loop and I do go back, I’ll make sure to cut off Siffrin before he can put me up to the task of tutorializing.”

Siffrin’s face screws up in offense, and you chuckle lightly. Before they can even hope to respond, Boniface interrupts.

“Okay, who wants snacks? I have SNACKS!!!!”

They’ve prepared plantain chips, “boring but delicious” cookies, and (eventually pronounced correctly) onigiri. By the time Boniface turns to you, they know what you want… and what you want has apparently been filled with apple slices?

“Boniface,” you call.

“Yeah?” they ask, and then their eyes widen a bit. “Ohhh wait, do you like it with the apples?”

You grimace, “Boniface.”

“Since you put a plum in yours I put in a different fruit!” they continue, starting to sound defensive. “...Is it good?”

“.........................”

You, morally, cannot answer that question.

They chuckle a bit. “It's okay, Dile. I know you're old and don't like change, so I have one with a plum if you want.”

You’re kind of put off of onigiri in general at this point, but if they made sure to make one with the pickled plum especially for you…?

“Thank... You,” you say as you’re handed the plum onigiri.

You bite into it. The plum is not pickled. It’s almost entirely the same issue as the apple onigiri. Right, not the end of the world. You pick at the rice slowly, and the plum at least tastes fine on its own.

After everyone has settled into eating their snacks, Boniface looks at you all.

“S-So? Do you all like it? Did I do a good job as Snack Leader?”

Everyone else compliments Boniface plenty, so you assume you’re off the hook. But they keep staring at you.

And then Siffrin kicks off a second round of complements, this time even more enthusiastic than the first. You continue to sit out.

Until Isabeau starts glaring at you. Fine. You’ll lie to save Boniface’s feelings.

“Mmm, good food, yummy yum yum,” you say, voice flat.

“YES!” Boniface cheers. They sure did win that interaction.

Gems. Usually Boniface’s cooking is quite good, but their experimentation leaves a lot to be desired sometimes, and you’ve already had your somewhat particular tastes challenged plenty on this journey. Sometimes it is just not worth trying to stomach something, no matter how hungry you are.

Siffrin walks over to you after they’ve finished eating their plantain chips, and you, in relief, hand them your half eaten apple onigiri. It doesn’t seem like Siffrin would enjoy it, per se, but he’ll eat anything, so it at least won’t go to waste.

You hum guiltily. “I hope I didn't make Bonnie upset earlier.”

You and Siffrin both turn to Boniface, who has finally sat down and started eating their own snacks. They look happy enough.

“...Nevermind.”

(You received a SICKLY SWEET MEMORY!))

(You'll always remember this.)

[This memory is associated with the Kid of your party. When equipped, Sickly Sweet Memory makes them much less likely to buff everyone during battle, instead focusing on attacking and healing.]

You aren’t sure how you feel about that.

The snack break ends soon enough, and after you’re all done eating, another shrine bell appears. You ring it, as always, even if you aren’t sure how much you want to “save” any of that… whatever Consequence even meant by that.

Floor two opens up with a familiar looking entrance, very similar to the “hub” of floor one. Siffrin turns to the right, all that is accessible is a classroom (empty of anything useful) and a small room with a similar Sadness to the one you fought on the first floor, the one with the Crest that dispelled Tears, not that there had been many obvious points to use it so far. The only other door in that direction is locked.

You all double back to explore the left side of the floor. In the very first hallway, Siffrin slows.

“There's someone over there.”

Mirabelle gasps. “Someone?!? Please, let's go!!!”

Said person is deeply frozen in time, encased in the reflective lightlessness of Time Craft.

“Ah!!!” Mirabelle exclaims.

“Is that... Someone from the House?” Isabeau asks. This is the house, you would assume so.

“They've been frozen by the King's Curse…” you mutter. You’ve seen it plenty of times before at this point, but it doesn’t stop being unnerving.

“That's— That's another Housemaiden!”

Mirabelle goes on to describe her relationship with the Housemaiden and her concerningly recent acquisition of the ability to chop vegetables without hurting herself. You’re distracted, though.

“The King is powering the Curse... So if we manage to beat him, everyone should go back to normal,” you start, reminding everyone of their goal here. “But every new floor, the Sadnesses are getting stronger. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if they have the ability to freeze us in time.” You turn to Mirabelle, “If that happens… how close do you think you are to being able to reverse the curse on someone else?”

You’ll need to know whether or not she’ll be able to reliably figure it out within the time span of the loops.

“...!” Mirabelle jumps. “I'm close!!! I'm close to getting it!!! I swear!!! I think if anyone gets frozen now, I could probably unfreeze them once the battle is over? But I feel like I’m close to figuring out a proper Craft skill for it too!”

You nod, and so does Siffrin. It does seem like she’s very close, maybe only a handful of battles before she figures it out? Siffrin seems to understand that as well, and so you don’t comment on it.

You continue on, finding a room filled with gardening supplies, and then…

“WAIT!!!”

Siffrin stops, looking back at Mirabelle.

“It's just, over there, that's the Head Housemaiden's office!”

You hum. “The Head Housemaiden, huh…” it does sound like a promising lead.

“Someone like her definitely has some good stuff, right?” Boniface points out. “Like keys! Like snacks!!!”

“...Like information,” you add.

“Let's go, then!”

Isabeau rallies your entrance into the office… which ends up being a massive disappointment. Siffrin rifles through the desk’s drawer for several minutes, finding nothing of use as you discuss the Head Housemaiden with Mirabelle. What a shame.

You follow everyone out of the office, not thinking much about it, but right as Boniface clears the immediate space in front of the doorway, you hear a familiar crash right behind you.

You yelp instinctively, and turn around. Boniface… is fine. Maybe a touch shaken, but fine. The massive boulder behind them didn’t even touch a hair on their head. What is even the point of that?

The boulder is blocking the doorway. Is that what the trap is for? Preventing people from returning into the office…? Again, you have to ask. What is the point of that?

Isabeau is the first to break the silence.

“There was nothing important in there, right? So this is fine?”

You frown. “What a waste of time. What’s the point of having a non-lethal trap like this if they aren’t even all like that?”

Isabeau laughs nervously, clearly remembering what you’ve told him about your previous loop. Or maybe he’s nervous about the time loop in general? You’re unsure.

Siffrin glances back at the two of you before continuing on through the hallway… right up to a locked door. You get a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Isabeau hums. “That door sure is locked,” he says, a humorless smile on his face.

“Yep,” Boniface agrees.

Siffrin jiggles the handle of the door a couple extra times. “Sucks,” is all he says.

Okay. No time to come to any definite conclusions about the convenient location of the trap and the locked door. Really, the key could be anywhere. The House’s layout was shuffled, after all.

“Mirabelle, any idea where the key for this would be?” you prompt, sending your hopes to the Expression of Chance. Or maybe the Expression of Lost Things would be more useful? Hm…

She’s chewing on her lip, “I'm not sure, I…” and then she trails off, you see her hands clasp together anxiously. “Oh… Oh no.”

…You hate being right sometimes.

You can see the dread on Boniface’s face as they put it together. “Uh oh.”

“I remember… The key… The key is in the Head Housemaiden's office, in her desk drawer...!!!”

You sigh.

Mirabelle keeps talking, flustered. “I'm sorry!!! I'm sorry!!! I should've remembered, why didn't I remember—”

“Hey, don't worry about it, Mira,” Isabeau reassures.

“Yes, you're not to blame here.” She wasn’t even looking for the key, after all. “If anything, it's Siffrin's job to look out for things, so…”

The Siffrin in question shrinks into his cloak. Was that one a bit too much? You aren’t wrong, but…

Isabeau mercifully turns everyone’s attention back to the door. “Can we break it down?”

That wouldn’t be your first suggestion, but it’s not the worst thing to try.

Bonnie steps up to the door, placing a small hand on it and grimacing. “It looks really solid…”

“And the fact that it's frozen in time doesn't help,” you add.

Isabeau laughs nervously. “So... Are we stuck?”

“W-Well we could keep exploring this floor,” Mirabelle suggests, “but I'm… I'm pretty sure the key for this door was in the office… This might just be the end of this loop! Aha…”

Isabeau grimaces at that suggestion. Hard.

As the others fall silent, you hear a strange chiming noise. You whip your head around, but no one else reacts. Was that Consequence again?

[Yes, that was me. I’ll be using that sound whenever you happen to get yourself stuck like this.]

[And yes, you are stuck. You won’t be able to progress further in the House in this loop. I would get the waiting over sooner rather than later if I were you, but what do I know?]

[You’re very lucky, I hope you realize that. All those tears everywhere. Quick, easy, painless… you really have no excuse.]

You frown. She’s being really insistent about this being a dead end.

“Are you alright, M’dame?” Isabeau asks, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Ah,” you clear your throat awkwardly. “I've just been informed that this is, allegedly, a dead end. That we are unable to make progress past this point.”

Everyone stares at you. Which is entirely fair.

“Look— there's a mysterious entity that can speak in my mind who claims to be helping me with the time loops. I don't fully trust her at this point so I didn't bring her up. This is why we can't entirely trust that this is a time loop in the first place, she's the one who told me it was a loop. Alright?”

Isabeau exhales. “I mean, you hinted at that to me, but that doesn't change the fact that you just… stating these things is really jarring.”

You don't think you’re going to get any better at that anytime soon.

Mirabelle is biting at her lip. “Why… can’t you trust her?”

“A variety of reasons, she’s definitely keeping things from me. And regardless of whether or not the time loop is real, I don’t think we should just take her at face value with this whole dead end business.”

[Suit yourself.]

You ignore her.

“That sounds fair,” Mirabelle admits. “It’d be weird to get a mysterious guide if you weren’t in a time loop, I think, but this seems a bit preemptive? We could find another way through, she doesn’t know!”

“Or maybe she’s just telling you this is a dead end so you look stupid,” Boniface adds. “Some kids at school did that to me once,” they huff.

[I assure you, you’ll look a lot stupider trying to find a way around this one, Scholar.]

You wince, a hand instinctively reaching up to muffle one of your ears.

“Could you keep your thoughts to yourself? You are not here for this conversation. Stop distracting me.”

“Was that her?” Mirabelle asks. You nod in confirmation, and she hums. “What did she say?”

“She said we’ll look stupider trying to solve this. We do not have to pay attention to her.”

“As much as I want to ask you more about this mystery helper,” Isabeau starts, “...I agree. We should really focus on getting ourselves out of this.”

You nod. “Siffrin— you know how to pick locks, right?”

Siffrin exhales. “Yeah, yeah. I do. Hold on.”

He pulls out a small set of tools, crouches down, and sticks one of them in. After only a small amount of fiddling, you notice they've started to frown.

“The pins aren't moving at all,” they report. “It's not even that there's a more complex locking mechanism, they aren't even jiggling a bit when I poke them.”

You frown. “Are you sure you're hitting the pins?”

He nods. “I don't know what else these would be, and if they weren't pins there isn't anything else in there.”

“...Would we have been able to open this door even if we had a key? Have all of the locked doors been like this?”

Siffrin shrugs at your rhetorical question.

“You should try to pick the lock of the other locked door on this floor, and then perhaps if that one’s frozen as well we could backtrack to that first locked door on floor one? Just to see if they’re all like that.”

“Ah, Madame…” Mirabelle interjects, “I don't think we'll be able to return to the first floor, the bigger doors we've been going through have been shutting… pretty tightly behind us. Frozen, I think.”

So you can't test the pins in the lock of a door you've actually unlocked, then? You’ll… just have to be alright with the lack of closure on that front.

“Right, okay. We’ll just check if the other door has frozen pins, then. Make sure we’re really stuck.”

Everyone nods, and Siffrin begins to lead the way. Back to the right side of the floor, to the locked door located past the second crest-bearing Sadness.

“...Pins are frozen on this one too,” Siffrin says after a few moments of picking. Isabeau swears quietly.

“What are the chances that the first two locks we’ve encountered were the only ones not frozen…?” you muse. “And how realistic is it for a key to be able to manipulate the pins in just the right way to allow them to move when Siffrin’s lock picking tools were unable to?”

Mirabelle hums. “It wouldn’t seem that far off from how the Curse usually works…? It’s kind of weird like that, from what I’ve noticed?”

You incline your head towards her, curious. “What have you noticed?”

“Um! It’s a bunch of little things, honestly. Things that are moved around often are easiest to move when frozen. For example… well. Back in Champernier when Isabeau and I were looking for one of the orbs, I remember Isabeau had to shove the door to a shed open pretty forcefully, he thought it was blocked by something but… no? It could wiggle around a bit just fine, it wasn't locked and there was nothing behind it. Just frozen. When we went inside… well. It looked like we were the first people to be in there for years. So I'm pretty sure it was hard to open just because it was used to staying fairly still already? So the Curse sank in faster.”

“Are you saying the pins only move with their keys because… they're not ‘used’ to being picked?”

Mirabelle shrugs. “That’s what makes the most sense to me? Um, relatively.”

You sigh. “So I suppose that would also likely rule out anything to do with the hinges.”

“We could still try?” Mirabelle suggests with a frown. “I could be wrong about all that, after all.”

“Of course,” you agree. “We should be trying everything.”

But as you examine the door, you realize you don’t really know anything about doors. The hinge isn’t visible from the outside of the door, or maybe it’s just not visible from this side, but as you look, your vague idea of dismantling the door crumbles.

“...Well, okay. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. Which do you think would be easiest to break, the hinges, the lock, or the door itself?”

You direct your question to the party as a whole, but Isabeau is the one who actually seems to be fully considering it.

“I think it depends? If the door is just like, a solid slab of wood, I think that’d probably be the hardest, but sometimes they aren't and that’d be on the easier side. Hinges could potentially be hit in a way that targets some of the thinner pieces of metal, which could work easier than breaking a solid slab of wood? And then the lock… well, if picking it isn’t an option I don’t think breaking it would be much better.”

You purse your lips. None of that seems the most promising, everything is still frozen. “Maybe we should look elsewhere for keys instead. Make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

That earns you a few nods of agreement, a relieved exhale from Isabeau. Before long the party is going through each room available, searching every single corner. You all check the central door on the floor, the pins are frozen. You backtrack to the previous floor’s final door. Entire door is frozen solid, just like Mirabelle said. Siffrin does end up finding a key, but it clearly isn’t for any of the locked doors on this floor. Strange. You’ll keep that in mind.

By the time you’ve exhausted all of the rooms, it feels like it’s been several hours. You have no idea how long it actually took.

“...The key in the Head Housemaiden’s office really was the only one we could’ve gotten, huh?” Isabeau sighs. “...M’dame, I think we might actually be stuck?”

You shake your head firmly. He was right last night, after all. You cannot be certain that you are in a time loop. You should be absolutely certain that you cannot proceed in any way.

“Mirabelle, do you think perhaps you could extend your blessing into the locking mechanism in the door?”

She looks very uncertain. “Well, I mean, I did figure out the Craft skill? but I’m not sure about using it for objects. B-but even then, everything here has been frozen for months…” she frowns. “I can… try?”

You all travel back to the door next to the Head Housemaiden’s office. Mirabelle tries her best to channel Craft into the lock. It does not work, the pins are still frozen.

For a moment, you remember seeing a window in one of the rooms you explored. You dismiss any ideas relating to that.

“Perhaps now is when we start trying to break the door?” you suggest.

Isabeau nods, and you all spend some time sending specific Craft attacks at points in the door he thinks might be weak. This also does not work.

Your mind drifts to the boulder. It would be harder to destroy than the door, but perhaps it would be easier to move…?

You suggest this to Isabeau. He takes you up on that, first attempting to roll the boulder with his own strength, and then again sending Craft at it.

After a good few minutes of trying to roll the boulder, Isabeau looks back at you.

“M’dame, I really don’t think this is working.”

You can see that. “Right, well. We can figure out another approach.”

He shakes his head. “No, I mean I don’t think this is working.”

“I think this could be when you should probably loop back?” Mira suggests, and then her face falls. “Wait, um. How did your loop end last time, actually?”

“I touched one of those Tears,” you murmur, pointing back to one of the spare clusters in the hallway. “I froze in time.”

Mirabelle squirms. “Ah! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking… Most time loops end early because a person dies, I…”

“It was painless,” you say. “It didn’t feel like much of anything. That is probably the best way to reset things.”

Mirabelle breathes a sigh of relief. “Right, right. Okay! Maybe it’s almost a good thing that they’re everywhere, then!”

You frown. “I want to make sure we’ve tried everything.” Because Isabeau was right. You shouldn’t just assume that there is a loop, not so soon. You can't just give up on that now, give up his trust. You've seen the uncertainty eating at him.

“...We have tried everything, M’dame,” Isabeau sighs. “And we can either just… very slowly wait for the Curse to catch up to us, or, y’know… we try the time loop.”

You wince. “If this doesn’t loop back, I don’t want you all to have to deal with the aftermath of me freezing myself,” you murmur, hand in front of your mouth. It doesn’t do anything to prevent Isabeau from hearing you.

“We’ll understand,” Isabeau says, voice soft. “It’s just another idea to try, yeah?”

“Our other ideas haven’t been suicidal.”

He chuckles humorlessly. “I mean sure, but I think I would get Craft exhaustion before I made it through that door.”

“Which is why you stopped. We’re moving on. I can't just stop getting frozen by a Tear once I know the time loop isn't real.”

Isabeau looks at Mirabelle, who does not look confident with what his look is searching for. Right, you can't trust that she'll be able to figure out how to save you from the Tears.

“We're just stuck,” you continue. “No one is dying. We're not even in that much distress. I'm not going with our last ditch option over just… getting stuck!”

“What would be bad enough to go with the last ditch option?” Siffrin asks, surprising you. It's a good question, and you take a moment to organize your thoughts.

“...I would be willing to try for the time loop if someone was injured to a point where Healing Craft couldn't easily fix it, or if someone was frozen, or if any of us were starting to develop any serious psychological issues,” you state. “Otherwise, even if we do run out of ideas of things to try… I would prefer if we simply waited for the Curse to catch up to us.”

Isabeau sighs. “M'dame, we already ran out of other ideas, this is our next best one. Waiting around for it to happen on its own isn't better.”

“I'll never know for sure we've run out of options completely until it's truly too late,” you argue. “Even if we stop actively looking for a solution there's always a chance that sitting on the issue will illuminate an answer.”

“I understand that, but— wait, Siffrin?”

You turn to see where they've drifted off to, and you're only able to catch a glimpse of their active panic as they realize you’ve noticed their fingertips crashing into a Tear. The one everyone's been assuming you'd end up touching.

You weren't. Able to react to that. At all.

“...AH! Okay!” Isabeau yells. Voice controlled, but clearly upset. “Guess that’s… Change, that’s. That's one way! To end an argument.”

“Frin!!” Boniface cries, rushing over towards his frozen body. “They're okay, right?” they turn to look at you. “You can just go back, right?”

You swallow, mouth dry. You glance at Isabeau. “It was the argument, right? Nothing else?”

“...What do you mean?” Isabeau asks, startled out of his upset.

“He wouldn't have done that if it wasn't to end our argument and push me to loop, yes? This isn't…” you wince. “You're better at reading them.”

As you speak, Mirabelle begins attempting to reverse the Curse’s hold on Siffrin. It doesn't seem to be working.

“...Ah.” Isabeau looks grave. “He did ask what it would take for you to be convinced to loop,” he points out. “I would say they're probably at less risk normally? But um… well. I'm flattered, but I don't think I can confidently say I know for sure what's in their head. Everyone's got a front.”

Your lips purse. He has a point, but… you don’t think you enjoy thinking of others that way. Well, strangers maybe, but Siffrin isn’t a stranger, is he?

“Right,” is all you say. This is getting nowhere. You might as well respect Siffrin’s wishes.

You plunge your hand into the same Tears they touched.

(You had a good sleep.)