Implementation
JME Experiment, Phase IV, Attempt 23
The machine clicks and whirrs, and catapults her into the void. Stay on course, 'Mecia thinks, keeping the image fixed in her mind. A sleek ship, its white sails fanned out like Leviathan's gills, floating on an inky sea under a scattering of stars.
Her arrival is smooth, seamless. She has made it. 'Mecia slips under the woman's skin, so fluidly that she does not notice at first. The woman, her vessel, is sitting alone in her cabin, combing out her long black hair, silken skeins running through her fingers.
'Mecia watches her in the mirror, through the vessel's own eyes. She is intriguing. There is so little information about her in the old records; she is barely a footnote on the entry for her husband, a weak-willed maggot of a man who makes 'Mecia's skin crawl. This one... almost nothing. As if someone had attempted to scrub her from history. The surviving records describe her only as a minor Sorceress, an orphanage matron. A mother. The long-winded entries for her children, however, verge on the hagiographic. All except for one. The eldest son, the 'lost' child. His entry is missing. 'Mecia thinks she knows why. She already has plans for him.
The vessel meets her gaze in the mirror. She is aware that she is no longer alone.
"Leave," she whispers.
No.
"I will never let you in. Accept that, and go."
No. 'Mecia will not accept that. 'Mecia does not take orders.
There is a hesitant knock on the cabin door. "Matron," calls a young woman's voice.
"Not now, Ellone."
"But Matron—"
The girl tries the handle. It is locked.
"Not now."
When the footsteps have faded away, the vessel turns to face the mirror. "I do not want you here," she says quietly. "I do not want you near me, or my children. Any of us."
You will have no choice. I am becoming stronger, while you weaken. It is inevitable.
"Do not underestimate me."
The vessel's magic flares at her fingers, and she presses them to her own eyes, as if pushing 'Mecia's presence away. 'Mecia clings on. No, she will not leave, she has worked too hard for this—
She thuds back against the headrest, and tears the electrodes from her temples. Curse it. Kurse it. The connection is severed.
She howls in frustration, and the cold stone floor flings her voice back to her, an angry echo that reverberates throughout the dark castle in the dead sky.
No. One more time. Her fingers scrabble for the electrodes, and she punches in the numbers, twists the dials on the control panel. She will not stop me. Never.
When she forces her way back, the sun is high in a cloudless sky. Hours, or perhaps days, even months, later. The temporal dial is spinning erratically; 'Mecia has lost all control in her anger. The woman stands on the ship's deck, and her long fingers resting on the handrail tense immediately when 'Mecia's mind collides with hers. "No," she whispers.
Why do you fight me? I will give you everything!
'Mecia is almost begging now, and she disgusts herself. Ultimecia, the empress of time, does not beg.
The woman covers her mouth with her hand. People are watching. "I want nothing you can give," she says, her voice muffled by her palm.
I will make a world where we shall both be safe. No-one will chase us, kill us, persecute us. We shall be safe, for all eternity.
"How can you promise that? The one who is chasing me is you."
The vessel is pushing back, with all her might, and 'Mecia does the same. This time, this time—
...She has done it. She flexes her fingers, and the woman's fingers twitch. 'Mecia laughs wildly, and tears the vessel's hand away from her mouth. She turns around, smiling, into the face of the dark-haired girl.
"Matron, are you..." The girl takes an unsure step backwards. "...Are you alright?"
I am perfect, says 'Mecia, but the vessel is still fighting, and her voice produces a strangled "No".
"What's wrong? Shall I get one of the SeeDs?"
'Mecia forces her answer. No.
"No," the woman echoes.
Don't. "Don't."
"No," she says again, but this time it is not 'Mecia's doing. The vessel gathers her strength, and she manages to direct her magic inwards once more. A white-hot flame, aimed with excruciating precision, sears the connection away.
'Mecia sits for a long while, holding the temporal dial with shaking fingers. She made the vessel move. She made her speak.
Failure after cursed failure had crushed her spirit, every dark day of these past several months. But today—today is different. She has it, at last. A glimmer of hope.
JME Experiment, Phase V, Implementation
She steps off the ship onto the dock. She wears her hair coiled tightly around her ears now, a style more befitting for a Sorceress-Empress. Not a matron. Not a mother.
"Matron, may we at least escort you—"
One of those cursed, kursed white-clad SeeDs is trotting like a puppy at her side.
"No need." She smiles, cold and distant. "I shall be fine alone."
He salutes, his hand wavering with uncertainty. She walks away. Each step makes 'Mecia's heart sing. She is on land now, a land that will soon be under her control, a vast army bending to her will. It has been three days since the vessel was overpowered completely. 'Mecia hears her sometimes, breathing steadily, waiting, watching. But she is buried deep, deep below, and 'Mecia is the surface now.
'Mecia is Edea now.
Accept it, 'Mecia tells her. Accept that today is the dawn of eternity. Hope, freedom, and peace. For you and I. We shall be timeless.
Edea breathes, and waits.
She has failed, but all is not lost. All is never lost. She believes that.
Yes, she believes...
...in me.
...In Ultimecia.
Yes. She can rest now. She is safe.