Rewrite

Chapter 4

Author's Note: Despite nobody seeming to like this piece enough to review, I'm still going. :P

When the sun rose over the kingdom, Marle was awakened by the rays falling over her closed eyes, coupled with the somewhat-creepy sensation of a sleeping Ayla spooning with her. She shifted slightly and opened one eye to peek at Lucca, who seemed to have at least three-quarters of the huge bed to herself. The young scientist was still sleeping peacefully.

Marle freed herself from Ayla's grasp and sat up, trying not to disturb her sleeping companions. The sun pouring in through the window was just at the position it used to be in the late morning at home, spilling lazily across red velvet duvet. In this world, the comforter was blue and mostly kicked to the floor by the other two girls.

The princess rose and exited the bed by way of the footboard, stretching as she went. It was a beautifully clear day outside, cloudless and sunny, rather reminiscent of the weather Marle had observed on the way to the Millennial Fair what seemed like a lifetime ago. She sighed, leaning heavily on the windowsill.

"Are you all right?" Lucca's unfocused eyes were aimed in her direction. One hand groped for her glasses on the night table.

"Yeah." The word was an exhalation. Marle put her head down, feeling her bangs brush against the skin of her arms. "I guess I just don't know what to make of all this."

"That makes two of us." Lucca looked pale in a set of too-big purple pajamas. Her hair was mussed and her eyes slightly bleary behind the lenses of her glasses.

"I never got along well with my dad," Marle said thoughtfully, even though Lucca could not help but know that. "But now that he's gone, well...now I'm normal, and for once I want my old life back."

"Me too." Lucca frowned. "I don't know where my mom is either. I mean, I met someone yesterday who claimed to be her...but it wasn't her. It was someone else altogether."

"That's not really possible though, right? How could you exist if your dad married someone else?"

"In that case, how do you exist?"

"You're right." Marle sighed. "I guess this is just one big mess. We'll have to figure it out somehow."

"That's the plan. We'll fix this and return the timeline to normal - no problem. I promise." Lucca put her arms behind her head and stretched, her glasses slipping down on her nose. "I mean, it's not like we don't have Epoch. We just have to figure out what caused the disturbance and fix it, right?"

"Right." Gratefully Marle enfolded Lucca in a hug, trying to conceal the way her shoulders shook with fear. She didn't want Lucca or Ayla to see her frightened. If Lucca noticed, she pretended not to, and squeezed back.

A knock on the door roused Ayla and broke the hug apart. "Lady Lucca! Are you awake?"

"Uh...yes." Lucca glanced at Marle with a frown and spoke in whispers. "That's Cora, the maid. I guess it doesn't really matter if she sees you guys here, if I'm supposed to be Miss Almost-Royalty now."

"I guess so." Marle still looked doubtful. Ayla had flopped back down into the bed but was eyeing the door suspiciously.

"I just wanted to check on you...are you hungry? Did I wake you?"

Lucca strode to the entranceway and answered the voice. "I'm fine, Cora, thank you, and you didn't wake me. Might be hungry...are we hungry?"

"Ayla hungry."

"Yeah, a little."

Lucca unlocked the huge door and admitted the maid, who stopped suddenly when she realized that the room contained not just one pajama-clad charge, but two, plus a feral-looking woman lounging on the bed. Lucca's pajamas hadn't fit Ayla, so they had outfitted her in a camisole and wrap. "Um..."

Lucca interrupted further questioning by pointing at the princess. "This is my best friend, Marle, And this is another friend, Ayla. Guys, this is Cora."

"Hello." Lucca would have to remind Ayla to cut down on the toothy grins when she was being introduced to people.

"Nice to meet you."

"It's a pleasure." Cora looked from Ayla to Lucca bewilderedly. "Lady Lucca, when did your friends arrive?"

"Last night. They were worried about me, so I had them stay." Neither of the girls looked particularly apologetic. "Hey, did Dad come home?"

"Yes, your father arrived late last night, but he's already gone to Truce Village. He left this morning and is supposed to return by nightfall."

"That's fine, it'll give me a chance to get cleaned up." And to do some detective work about what Lucca Ashtear is supposed to be like in this world. "Hey, did you say something about breakfast?"

"Of course." Cora smiled warmly and tilted her head, her gaze moving from pink pajamas to purple. "What can I bring you girls?"

"Anything's fine," Lucca assured her, waving a hand for emphasis. She admitted to herself that she could really go for some of Taban's fried sausages and scrambled eggs, something she'd been lacking ever since the day she stepped into that Gate, but she could do without a while longer.

Marle, ever used to being waited on, didn't even hesitate. "French toast with syrup and powdered sugar, please."

"That'll be fine for all of us." Lucca cut Ayla off before she could demand something outrageous. The cavewoman looked like she cared little, shrugging and grinning toothily.

"French toast it is, then. I'll be back shortly!" The maid left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving the party of three alone.

"It's probably best if you two sneak out before anyone has a chance to ask too many questions," Lucca advised. "Especially if they're going to keep accusing Marle of kidnapping me."

"Where should we go?" Marle asked, hands stilling halfway through the creation of her ponytail. "What about you?"

"I can take care of myself," Lucca replied with a wink. "Besides, we all have to do some detective work, and I'd rather not have you guys thrown in the dungeon for kidnapping – or worse, up for execution, the way Crono was that time."

Marle winced.

Lucca busily laced up her boots while Marle continued to tame her long red hair. "So – is it a deal? I go find out about Crono, and you try to get some information?"

"And find froggie!" Ayla suggested.

"Frog said he'd meet me at Epoch, before sunrise, on the third night after we split up," Marle informed them. "We have until then to figure out what's wrong with this era."

"So we meet up tomorrow night, north of the forest?"

"Right." Marle's hands settled in her lap as she glanced out the window in the direction of the time machine.

"We go, then," said Ayla.

September 23, 649 A.D.

Dear Glenn, the letter read, I hope this message finds you well, if it is to find you at all, but as I might guess the circumstances under which you have received it, you must not be. I can only hope that I am able to answer some pressing questions for you.

This crucial message leaves little room for the formalities of court, and by this time, they have all but left me. I will begin by assuring you that what rumours you may have heard of my death in 610 are all untrue, and I hope that if you grieved for me (pray not!) I might now put your fears to rest.

Frog was somewhat grateful he had heard no such rumours. His webbed fingers tightened over the flowing script of familiar handwriting - it was unmistakably Leene's.

Still, I must be the bearer of bad news. It is true that in 610 a tragedy befell the Castle, one that I feel certain could not have come to pass without the interference of Crono and his friends. The castle was raided by villagers who had heard tell of the great Rainbow Shell and its mysterious properties, people of the small village of Choras. I learned long after the raid that these men had intended the shell's use to fortify weapons and armour to wage war on a nearby Mystic settlement. They stormed the castle and killed my husband in order to steal the Shell, and I too was taken. My daughter and I were spirited to a Chorean home and imprisoned forl months while the rebels attempted to discover the Shell's secret. They still had not been able to utilize it when I was released one day by a sympathetic maid, and fled on foot.

We found passage to the village of Porre, where we hid in the forest den that you once called home. I knew of it only by your description, but found it nevertheless, hoping you would one day return. I stayed there, concealing myself from the rebel group, lest they be watching for my return to the Palace. I knew that the Chancellor - a man named Ashtear, whom you never met, for you had never returned to use after departing with Marle and Lucca that day you left the Shell in my keeping - had come to power, when all had presumed me dead. I thought to return to the Castle after I had hidden for several months.

As time passed I came to realize that what had taken place that night of the raid could not have been fated. I have no experience with this phenomenon called time travel beyond your stories, yet it became clear that the Shell's presence in the castle had altered the flow. Without it, for what cause would there have been such an invasion? And if the Chancellor's descendants truly claimed the throne, how could Marle been born into the royal line?

I thought that perhaps this truly was Fate, and Fate decreed that I return to Guardia and retake the throne as was my right, raising my daughter to be the next Queen - but I weakened - for still I felt that this timeline was truly wrong. I refused to believe that you had died, perhaps fighting Lavos, and never come home. For ten long years since your departure I anguished. I refused to believe that without the Shell's presence in the castle, the Choreans would have invaded and effectively wiped out the monarchy. Had I returned to Guardia Castle, I could not be sure that things could again turn for the worse, and should I perish, things never be set to rights..

So I stayed in the Forest, eventually disguising myself and living in Porre once Aliena was old enough to need schooling. I thought that if I could forget who I was and raise her as a normal child, someday I or my descendants would meet you, the flow would be set to rights, and this timeline would fade from existence. Despite the embittered idea that my life would have eventually been for naught, I continued, so that you, Lucca and Marle would return four hundred years later (a mere blink for you) to a future that could somehow be repaired.

And yet, my prayers were not answered during my lifetime, and so I have written this letter for you (and if it has fallen to Lucca, Crono or one of the others, I pray you find Frog well also) and entrusted it to my daughter. She has recently married, a villager from Truce, and has little idea of her true identity as princess of this land. I do not know if Marle will ever be born, for if the timeline has truly diverged from what you knew, my efforts to expose her to the same population she might have courted as a noble may have been for naught. I can only hope that she is also well and pray things may be set to right, so that she never need suffer from knowing her lost heritage. For that, please apologize to her from the bottom of my heart.

Alas, once this letter reaches your hand, my death will have long since come to pass. Do not grieve - we shall see each other very soon, upon your return to Guardia. You must return and repair our mistakes - I beg of you - conceal the Shell in the Treasury, and ensure it is never spoken of again. If rumours of its existence are quenched before they start, we all may survive to see the futures we hope for. Strengthen the guard in the castle on the night of May 6, 910, and I pray you -

Please return safely to us, Glenn.

All my love,

Leene

Frog's lips formed a line as he organized this new information. The Queen kidnapped, the royal line eliminated - this could only be the reasoning for Marle's snubbing at the castle. But the contents of the letter disturbed him to the core. Had the Shell really caused such a change in the timeline? It must be true - 1000 A.D. had only changed after the Shell had been placed in the castle. But why had he never returned to his time?

Aliza interrupted the swordsman's thoughts, looking at him gravely over the yellowed parchment. "That letter has been passed down through my family for three hundred and fifty years. When I was sixteen, I was entrusted with it, and told that I would most likely be the one to find its recipient, in the year 1000. Was it truly written by my ancestor, just for you? How is that possible?"

Frog sighed heavily. "'Tis true the letter is mine. But how your ancestor came to know I would receive it in this year is a complicated story, Lady."

"Your speech is so strange," she told him with a blush. "But I would like to hear this story, if you don't mind telling it. You're welcome to stay at the Inn as well, tonight - no charge."

"I thank thee. Mayhaps thy hand in delivering the letter merits my favour as well, enough to know its story."

"I'd like that."

As Aliza sat down, a portrait on the wall caught Frog's eye, of a redheaded young lady who looked to be in her mid-teens. Her hair was loose and straight, falling to her shoulders, and she wore a wide smile and a white tunic.

Frog gulped. "The picture there...whom might that be?"

"Ah." Aliza smiled brightly, her eyes following Frog's to look upon the girl. "That's my daughter, Nadia."

Lucca left the castle with far less flourish than she had entered it, clad in full Adventure Girl regalia. The only item she had left behind was her helmet, as it often made her stand out at times when she was trying to blend in.

Ayla and Marle had departed through the bedroom window shortly after a filling breakfast of French toast with syrup and icing sugar. Lucca had to admit, that was one aspect of the noble life that she wouldn't mind getting used to. A flippant wave to the maids with the instructions "don't hold dinner," however, had earned her twin looks of horror, and Lucca had had to promise that she would, indeed, come back. Once that was settled, she proceeded without further harassment, waltzing confidently in one end of the forest and out the other to emerge in Truce Village.

It hadn't changed much since she'd last seen it, but that did little to set Lucca's mind at ease. The village houses were familiar and a little comforting to Lucca after the cold stone walls of the castle.

Down by the market were the two houses Lucca was looking for; Crono's on the outskirts of town, her own within sight on the nearby peninsula. But when she paused outside the little two-storey house that was once her home, she faltered. What will I see if I look in there? My real mother? A stranger? A friend? Is it worth checking, if this timeline is going to be wiped out of existence tomorrow night? In her timeline, the house's original owner had once been her Grandfather Organa, passed on to Lara before she married. Lucca wasn't really sure she wanted to know who now inhabited her house. Crono's fate was supposed to be what she was investigating. But despite herself, Lucca forced back her apprehension and peered hesitantly through the smudged glass of the kitchen window.

No one was inside.

Unsure whether to be disappointed or relieved, Lucca stealthily moved around the other side of the house to check the living room, hoping to see Lara standing there on two healthy legs. But the living room was empty as well, causing Lucca's stomach to churn unpleasantly.

It can't be that the accident still happened, somehow, can it? Could she be upstairs, sitting on the windowsill, bitter and alone? No…that can't be. There were no machines in the kitchen to cause it. But…

Fate works in strange ways…and it doesn't care about people like Mom…

Lucca ran to the front door, as unlocked as ever – the people of Truce had never had cause to fear break-ins and theft – and quietly let herself into the kitchen. Though the arrangements had changed, the furniture was all familiar and inviting, from her grandmother's old oak table to Lara's polished kitchen knives.

For once her sense of rationality was being overpowered by emotion and fear, a fact that frightened Lucca nearly as much as what she was doing did. Still, she crept up the stairs and uncertainly peeked into what had been her parents' room.

Between her sudden nobility, the erasure of a friend from existence, the incredible history of Guardia combined with all the things she had seen in the past weeks – an Earth ravaged by destruction, the death and resurrection of her best friend, the ghost of Cyrus and more – Lucca had thought nothing would be able to take her by surprise again, and yet what she saw in her mother's room still managed to prove her wrong. Lara was smiling radiantly, outfitted in a simple blue dress, her hair loose over her shoulders, and standing, facing a person that was unmistakably Taban. He wore a simple tunic and trousers, and a smile bigger than Lucca had seen on her father in years. Though she hadn't made a noise, Lucca froze with shock, and both pairs of eyes turned to stare at her. "Uh…hi there."

"Oh!" Taban smiled. "I was wondering when you'd be home. I wanted to see you."

"Welcome home, honey," Lara said excitedly. "You've been gone so long! Did you and Crono have fun? Where did you go? What a nice surprise to have you and your father back at once!"

"Oh…yeah, I just wasn't, uh, feeling well, so I came back…for a bit." Whatever Lucca had been expecting her parents to say, this certainly was not it. "What are you guys doing today…?" Inwardly, she winced. Idiot, can't you think of something better than that?

"Well, your father just got here, so we were talking about his trip to the Eastern Continent." Lara smiled at Taban.

"Right," said Lucca, a little too cheerfully. "How was it? You were gone…awhile." Another wince.

"It was fine, but a bit boring of course! I missed you girls, but I brought back presents. Check your room when you get a chance." Taban winked at Lucca, a move so familiar that a chill shot up Lucca's spine. This is surreal. How can these be my parents, if my parents are supposed to be the Steward and his wife? What kind of double life is the alter-Lucca living?

"Oh, and you'll never guess what's happened at the castle – Taban was just saying….well, tell her, Taban!"

Her father nodded, flopping down into the armchair. "When I got home last night, they told me that Lucca had been found – your half-sister, remember?"

"Half…sister?" Lucca stared dumbly at her parents.

Taban rolled his eyes. "Come on, you didn't forget about her, did you? My wife's – Sheska's daughter. I distinctly remember telling you when she ran off."

"Yeah, I, uh, forgot. What happened there, again?"

"Well…" Taban frowned. "I can't say I know exactly why she ran away, but she's her father's daughter, just like you…she liked mechanics and exploring and science. So I imagine she left because she wasn't interested in what the Palace had to offer."

Lucca stared at Taban incredulously. "You sound like you don't even care."

"That's untrue. I just…well, I know what it's like to want to escape from there. If I hadn't met your mother I probably would have made a break for it too…Sheska and I were always fighting and I never wanted the Stewardship. So I know how Lucca feels, especially since her mother arranged her marriage, too."

"She's engaged?"

"Yeah – didn't I tell you? To some silly little noble from Choras. Ah, palace life is so irritating! I knew she'd come back – I'm not stupid, I knew where she was. She'd surely gone down to Porre. What I wasn't expecting was for her to come back so soon, knowing that she'd have to go through with the marriage now that she's sixteen. I wonder if someone didn't bring her in by force." He smiled, but the emotion didn't reach his eyes. "You should be glad you have your freedom. I'd hate for you to be locked in there like Lucca was."

"Poor Lucca…I suppose Sheska is happy to have her home, though." Lara looked genuinely sympathetic, considering that (as far as Lucca could tell) she was talking about the legal wife of her sweetheart. Lucca was going to need a long few minutes to puzzle all of this out before relaying it to Marle.

"I guess so." Lucca didn't feel like explaining to Lara why that wasn't even close to the truth. Instead, she took a step backwards and turned back toward the stairs. "Well, I'm going to lie down a bit in my room…I'm not feeling my best."

"Of course. Hope it clears up, sweetheart." Taban waved jovially. "Enjoy your present!"

"I will," Lucca promised as she slipped down the stairs and entered her room, avoiding the white box on the bed as she flopped on top of the covers. "What…the…hell…"

The puzzle she had been mentally trying to assemble the previous night, which was already difficult enough, had just gained a couple hundred pieces and been tossed in a blender for extra fun. There was a second Lucca in this timeline? Not to mention an arranged marriage, and who knew what else…

Even more shocking was the fact that Taban was rather obviously in a relationship with Lara, and had to have been for at least sixteen years in order for Lucca to have been born. Did the Steward's wife - now that Lucca knew her name, she realized, she ought to call her Sheska – know about his affair with a villager? Impossible. Taban must have been concealing it from everyone.

For the single question meeting her parents had answered – "Did you and Crono have fun?" – dozens more were now clamoring to be put to rest. So Crono was indeed safe and well, though Lucca couldn't quite figure out where she herself was supposed to have been, that Lara had been so surprised to see her. Crono and I were gone somewhere for a long time – of course. Time continues to pass in the era you've left, so maybe our absence here is because we were time-traveling…if I really am the same person as in the natural timeline…

But that didn't explain everything either…if that was truly how things has worked in this strange world, then she wouldn't find Crono at his house – he'd be at the End of Time, just as she had left him. But if that was so, how had their adventure begun at all? Without Marle – and there was no denying it, she was very much missing from this era – Crono and she would not have gone to 600 A.D. in the first place. And without that…

Nothing we've done so far could have happened, including whatever event caused the timeline to diverge. So this era's existence is, as it is, paradoxical.

"GAH! I HATE this, why can't things just make sense!" Lucca buried her face in the pillow and screamed.

"I don't even know where to start," Marle confessed with a frown. She and Ayla were crossing the bridge between the northern Guardia area and the Southern Continent, conversation having dwindled after the young princess tried to explain the situation in terms Ayla would understand. They had opted to get as far away from the castle as possible before starting to investigate things. "I guess we could talk to the people in the shops and Inns, trying to get information on the cause of the 610 riot."

"Ask for what happen. People of present time read! Must be written," Ayla mimed engraving, using a miniature chisel and mallet, "for grandchildren to know. Ayla's people write important things for keeping."

"When we reach Porre, we should ask… I suppose it'd be in a history book or something, wouldn't it?"

Ayla's nodded reply was enthusiastic, even though Marle didn't think she knew what "history book" meant. She chuckled to herself, and they pressed on.

...to be continued...