Time.
At its simplest, it’s the measurement of the passing reality.
That which had once happened is called the ‘past’.
That which had yet to arrive is called the ‘future’.
Sentient life obsessed much over these concepts. Except, the most important moments lay in between.
It’s called the ‘present’.
Lucidia of House Berendin understood this more than others. She collects the past to speculate the future, yet the data meant nothing without the processing effort of the ‘here and now’.
It’s been exactly twenty-one hours since Papyrus arrived at the institute. The clock’s ticking and she can’t afford to dally.
There’s a Gram she needed to build, and a person to heal from the inside. She’s putting the finishing touches on her draft. Like most Seers, she preferred to do mind-intensive work in the dark.
The annoyed yells of a child disturbed her concentration.
It’s Chara, the once-human flower. They said: “Asrieeellll what’s taking you so long?!”
“The teapot’s HOT you idiot!” Followed by Asriel, the once-prince of the monsters. For anyone who’s not Chara, he preferred to be addressed as ‘Flowey’.
“You could grab a whole bunch of grown adults and yet you tell me you can barely lift a teapot?!”
Flowey snapped, “Well I wanna see YOU try using your vines on this tiny handle!”
“Hah!” Chara scoffed, “I can totally do that!”
“FINE! TAKE THIS!”
“Wait wait wait wait stop Asriel don’t throw it!--”
Too late. What followed after was a yelp and the shatterings of ceramic.
Lucidia sighed and got up from the chair. It’s time to investigate the mayhem.
Sure enough, a smashed teapot lay in a puddle of hot tea.
“You,” said Chara, “Are an idiot.”
“You,” Flowey replied, “Are an idiot too.”
Lucidia crossed her arms, glaring at the two flowers. “Do you want me to contact Mezil about this?”
Both flowers pointed at each other with their leaves and said: “It’s their fault!”
She won’t take this nonsense. Not at such a critical hour. Lucidia floated off the ground in an increasing magic aura of intimidation, lifting her voluminous curls in the process.
The bright yellow petals drooped backwards. Both changed their stance in almost an instant: “We’re sorry, Lady Lucidia.”
“Do you know why we’re having this conversation?”
Flowey pouted, “I lost my temper and tossed the teapot.”
Chara tried to pull a smug smirk, but that lost its appeal once the woman cleared her throat at them. In the end they admitted: “I provoked Asriel into a dumb challenge.”
“Good,” said Lucidia, “Now, what should you do to take responsibility?”
“Clean up the mess,” said Flowey.
“And apologize,” Chara added.
Though they admitted their wrongs, they sounded unsatisfied.
Lucidia knew what they’re trying to do. She reached down to the children and patted them on their petalled heads. “Dears, I know you’re trying alleviate some of my burdens with a nice spot of tea. I truly appreciate that. But, throwing a temper won’t help anyone.”
Looking at the shards, she understood why Flowey had so much trouble. “Besides, that pot does have a faulty handle design.”
“Really?” Flowey squinted in disbelief. “Then why keep it?”
“Mezil received it as a Teacher’s Day gift from a student. She knew he loves tea, but had no idea how to buy a proper teapot. It’s not nice to discard such a heartfelt gift despite its faults.”
Chara mused at the thought. “I guess you have no problems thanks to your ‘true blue’ magic.”
How she felt sorry for them. By theory, the flower children’s lack of SOULS should make them selfish, yet they took the conscious effort to be good to her.
“May I offer a proposal?” Lucidia smiled. “I’ll clean up the mess. In exchange, you two transport Papyrus to the room behind me.”
The flowers perked up in gladness. Papyrus had a positive impression on the children, and it shows.
“That’s a chore I can get by,” said Chara.
“Anything for Papyrus!” Flowey agreed.
Off the children went, discussing between each other how to best transport their unexpected hero. Their teamwork warms the heart despite the occasional spat.
As reward for their recent good behaviour, Lucidia gave them some ‘movement aids’ for the soilless areas. They’re saucers with her flight Gram etched underneath. As long their pot stays secure in its lock, they could go anywhere they want… provided they don’t run out of battery power first.
Lucidia floated towards the mess. Her hands ‘coaxed’ the broken mess off the ground, forming it into an amorphous mix of spilled tea and porcelain shards. All that spot required now was a damp cloth to wipe off the edges.
I better hurry.
En-route to the kitchen, Lucidia entered the memorial hall.
Here the legacy of the Supreme Judges decorated the walls. Each one had left their ‘mark’ in more ways than one.
The stained glass windows for example. Supreme Judge ‘Saar Glasblazer’ grew up learning the trade of her father and her father’s father. Though her peaceful fate got flipped upside down, she kept her skills as a hobby.
Then there’s this ancient bow. It’s the famed weapon of choice for ‘Teraun Wanderstar’, the Vanquisher’s founder. His original name of ‘Nokluirvanoic’ had caused too many tongues to trip, so they translated it to the closest local approximate. Thanks to his efforts, the appeasement rituals for false gods became nothing more than history.
At the end of the trip hung a brass plaque. It’s for James Pashowar, the one who played the role of her second father. Before his career as Supreme Judge began, he was an architect.
The Seers told him that they will present a special child for the Grandmaster. Said that one day, she could fly as though she was born from the sky itself. So he rolled up his sleeves and put his renovating skills to good use.
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With their assistance, he took note of the numerous local holes in spacetime and readjusted their structure to accommodate the new member of the family.
It’s an entire building just for her… and for any future Chronographers who chooses to live amongst the humans.
On the ceiling, there were twelve shortcuts arranged in a circle. Shortcut number five took her straight to the kitchen. It’s much faster than walking all the way to the north end of the manor. Living in a huge house had its downsides.
The cupboards flew open the moment she arrived at her destination. Tools floated overhead in search for the proper utensil of her purpose.
In the end, she found a sieve. Lucidia placed the rest of the items back in their place in proper order.
With the sieve, she drained the broken shards. Gave it an extra rinse too.
Mezil walked right up to her side.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise, “Dear, you’re as silent as a cat.”
He answered back, “Not a butterfly?”
“How about a butterfly-cat?”
“No.”
Lucidia giggled.
Looking at the shards, the husband sighed. “This is the fifth time that same pot had met its unfortunate end. How did it break?”
“The children got into an argument.”
Mezil groaned. He reached under the sink for a rough rag. For floor-only use. He placed it under the tap for a rinse before he wrung out the excess water. “Where is it?”
“In front of the Arcanagram Atelier,” she answered.
“I hope you had disciplined them as we agreed.”
The woman chirped, “Yes, I did. Though in a slightly different manner. I ordered them to transport Papyrus.”
“That’s… a reward,” said Mezil.
“Dear, dear, they know they’re wrong and they intend to follow through. That’s all that matters, right?”
If Mezil didn’t have a rag in his hands, he would have planted his face into his palm. “I’m worried that they’ll take advantage of you one day.”
“Oh Mezzy,” Lucidia smiled, “You’re talking to someone who made it her career analyzing the deluded. I know how to set boundaries.”
“Hm,” he replied. “Just leave the shards in the sieve. That thing is low priority.”
Lucidia furrowed her bony brow. “I need a warmup, you know.”
“Right. Sorry. I’ll be going to clean up the mess now.”
Right before Mezil took his first step, the wife planted a smooch on his cheek. The husband returned the favour.
“Love you, Mezzy.”
“Love you too.”
The world saw him as a cold stoic who’s best left alone, never knowing of his loving side. It’s a privilege reserved for his wife alone. It made her feel special. They’re married for over two decades and her heart still burns with the warmness of a new bride.
She wrote a pentagram on the counter, poured the shards in the center and lit her Eyes with colour.
When the Gram activated, the broken remnants began to piece themselves back together.
Blue, to gather.
Green, to restore.
Purple, to understand.
With these three colours, Lucidia sewed the cracks together at an atomic level. She understood the science behind ceramics and was therefore able to make the necessary adjustments.
In a minute, the teapot returned to its pre-broken state. The notorious handle could only fit in a finger or two at most, far too little support for the volume it’s meant to contain.
Like she told the flower children: this defective product could only bring more harm than good.
Yet, it had sentimental value.
It's not ‘trash.’
The thought reminded her of Sans. Why would he equate himself to damaged refuse? By all technical standpoints, he’s one of the world’s rarest treasures.
I wonder if he ever read my letter?
Somehow, I have a feeling there’s a 70 to 90 percent rate of failure.
She left the fixed pot in the sink - it still needed a wash after all - then returned to her workshop.
The flower children announced the results of their hard work in glee. Chara narrated, Flowey presented.
So, the ex-human began: “Papyrus lies peacefully on a sheet of warm mattress. It looks suspiciously like a futon without a blanket. Also, he’s dressed in simple PJs. ”
The other flower boy patted the mattress with his leaf. “Totally fluffy.”
“His neck is also supported by a skeleton-approved pillow.”
Flowey noticed the mentioned pillow was a little mispositioned. He nudged it in place with a sneaky vine.
“There’s a fresh, clean, folded up blanket for use after the job is done. It’s a little bit thin, but I guess it makes for easy transport.”
“Ta-da!” the ex-goat pointed both leaves towards the soft square of fabric.
“In other words,” Chara said, “The flower children got everything done without a hitch! Isn’t that right, Azzie?”
“Yeah!”
Lucidia clapped her hands. How they lifted her heart. “You two did an excellent job! Thank you so very, very much.”
The children cheered, high-fiving each other.
“Okay, so what’s next?” asked Flowey.
She explained, “I will need to establish a means of contact within his visions. I created that weapon, and therefore it’s my responsibility to heal him from the damages.”
“But that’s an accident,” Chara said. “You told us that Papyrus just needed to show my origins to Frisk, and that’s the key to changing this timeline. As far as I remember, there’s nothing in there that should cause some weird spacetime feedback.”
“That’s right. Your life story shouldn’t inflict any recoil. That’s because… I wasn’t born yet.”
Lucidia’s feet touched the floor. She knelt down by the young skeleton’s side and caressed his skull. Poor, poor fellow to witness that point of time. What other dangers did he walk into in the hours prior?
“I know when and where he ended up in,” she said. “Just looking at his current condition feeds me with the required information.”
“So, he screwed up?”
“…On the contrary, he succeeded beyond expectations. It’s clear that I’m wrong: your history is not enough to change the actions of Frisk and Sans Serif.”
Chara frowned in disappointment. “Great to know I meant nothing.”
“Oh no. Please don’t think that way. I’m sure it left significant impact. It’s just that there’s a more suitable piece of information.”
The rosy-cheeked flower responded with a slight, wry smirk. “I guess it’s better than being too important. That didn’t work out at all with me and Azzie. Not to mention that Trashb-- Sans broke under pressure too.”
Flowey waved himself left and right, showing his impatience without shame. “C’moooon! Enough with the sad stuff. I wanna see the awesome happening!”
“Jeez, Azzie. You were a ton more patient back in the Underground.”
“Well that’s because there’s nothing better to do down there. Up here, it’s too much stuff with too little time!”
“You know that we’re not actually gonna see any of mister pasta-lover’s visions, right?”
“Wha?!” he exclaimed.
Chara sighed at his reaction. “Azzie, this is ultra-serious business. Lady Lucidia said she’s gonna go heal him. Not give us a movie to watch.”
Their eyes glanced to the side, trying to hide their own discomfort. “Besides we don’t want to hurt Papyrus by infringing on his privacy. He’s suffered enough. I-I don’t care about him. But, I know you do.”
Flowey gazed on the unconscious Papyrus. His eyes drooped a bit from the thoughts of troubled sadness. “Okay. I get it. I’ll just have to wait for him to confess to us the old-fashioned way.”
How interesting to observe consideration in an entity that lacks ‘Love’ and ‘Compassion’. Was it on an intellectual basis, or did the soulless children learn from example?
Curious, curious.
“You could watch over me, young man,” said the lady. “There’s the possibility that I might get trapped despite my best preventive measures. If that happens, you need to alert Mezil or Grandpa immediately. Whoever you can find first. Do you understand?”
“Roger!” Flowey replied with a winking salute.
“Since Azzie’s staying, I’ll hang around too,” said Chara. “I got nothing better to do anyway.”
“Thank you, sweethearts. I shall now activate the sequence.”
“Huh?” Flowey blinked. “But you didn’t draw any of those fancy stars.”
“They’re already primed in the systems. A full digitalization requires specialized equipment, hence why I can only do this in the Atelier.”
Lucidia bounced to her keyboard in a single fairy-like hop. Everything she does had an aura of lightness. It’s as though she’s a mermaid in the sky.
The atelier lit up section-per-section. Wherever the amber circuitry lights coursed, the embedded machines woke from their slumber.
For a woman who swims through the air, there’s no angle too difficult to reach. Therefore she fit her tools in every space the four walls could provide.
When the power reached the ceiling, the complex machinery shifted around. They built themselves into a downward spire of intricate machinations.
The flower children dropped their jaws. Chara said: “I thought that shifty-shifty tech exists only in the Underground.”
Lucidia chuckled. “It looks the same, but the basis is different. The Core and my Atelier are akin to oranges and apples.”
She rose to the ceiling spire for some final adjustments. Had to make sure the tools were securely locked in place. Once satisfied, she gripped a handle and lowered the complex structure down to ground level.
The tip squared right over Papyrus’ chest, where his SOUL ought to be.
Flowey commented, “I really expected it to point over his right socket. Now that’s some disturbing horror movie material.”
Giggles chirped from the lady. “The Psychia is more convenient solution in this case.”
“I, on the other hand…”
She summoned a visor docked in the wall.
“Will be the one using my Eyes. Once I put this on, I will disconnect from this world in its entirety. Nothing will reach me until I end the session. Anything else you wish to say before I begin?”
“Good luck, Lady Lucidia,” said Flowey. “Make sure you come back!”
“Yep,” Chara added. “Don’t get lost and turn into Papyrus number 2.”
The once-goat transformed his face into the creepy toothed version, teasing her, “Because if you do, we’ll take matters in our own hands.”
“Yeah. You may never know what diabolical plans Azzie and I will come up with to deal with this timeline. Hehehe.”
The lady smiled at their sweet thoughts. “That’s certainly a great motivational speech. Thank you for your kindness, children.”
Visors, on. When it activated, a boot screen written in The Code greeted her sight.
[WELCOME, SEER LUCIDIA]
[ESTABLISHING CONNECTION]
[BLUE: READY]
[GREEN: READY]
[PURPLE: READY]
[VITAL SIGNS: ALL CLEAR]
[PROCESSING CLAUSES…]
[CALIBRATING TO SUBJECT: PAPYRUS. MIX, RIGHT (ORANGE, BLUE, GREEN)]
[SYSTEMS READY FOR INITIALIZATION]
“See you soon, dears.”