The sounds of shifting could be heard as the door to the room opened up. A mellow voice belonging to the personal maid and attendant assigned to Amalia Sylvia-Sigrid Lehtinen sounded out, “Lady Amalia, it is time to rise.”
Within the sheets, I shifted around a few more times before commanding my body to rise. Slowly, I got up and sleepily rubbed my eyes. “—Is that you, Henrietta?”
“As punctual with your awakening as always, milady,” she replied, nodding as she stood at attention near the side of the massive bed to help me off of it like she does all the time.
As my mind slowly kicked into gear, I remembered the conversation I just had with the mysterious being. Glancing over at the calendar, I saw that the current date was impeccably marked as January 7, 1576. So I’ve reincarnated as my ten-year-old self? Inspecting my body, I marvelled at seeing the hands of a child. I died at age nineteen and while my hands were still rather small then, they certainly weren’t this small. I should first take stock of the blessings that person gave me. “Henrietta, bring me my wand.”
“At once, milady.” Her maid immediately went to one of the many bedside nightstands on top of which lay a decorated wand-holder. Atop it was a wand made of acacia forty-two centimetres in length. Henrietta reverently retrieved the wand and presented it to me with her palms up.
I got out of bed and slid my feet into the well-made slippers that I wear around the Lehtinen mansion before grasping my wand. I raised an eyebrow at how suddenly I felt a deeper connection with my wand than ever before as if it had connected with me further than it had in my previous life. Henrietta stood up to follow from behind as I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Throwing it open, I felt the crisp morning air caress my cheek. Pointing my wand skyward, I chanted, “Tonitrus.” I chose a basic singlecant lightning spell unadjusted to any specific effect; normally, a small bolt of lightning would emerge from the tip of my wand and shoot out several metres, however—
A single shaft of lightning erupted from my wandtip and ripped through the sky. While it never made it into the clouds, it tore through several tens of metres of air. I blinked in confusion. Hey now, isn’t this too much of a boost? Managing this much power with just a singlecant at my age? “Milady… your hand—”
“—?” Confused, I looked at my left hand and found nothing of note. I then turned to my dominant hand in which I held my wand and froze. On my right hand was an emblem, a glowing blue crest shaped like an angel wielding a wand. This—!?
“Milady, you’ve been chosen…!”
This is the emblem of a Type Magia Truthseeker—! That damned god or whatever! Is this what they meant by ‘necessary adjustments!?’ I immediately stamped back inside and retrieved a white elbow glove from one of my many dressing cabinets and slipped it on my hand. “Henrietta. I trust that you keep this a secret?”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“But milady—” As she tried protesting, Henrietta found herself at the receiving end of a glare, the one employed by the me in another timeline. I was having none of it; I already stood out enough and it would be exceedingly difficult to perform my divine mission with the additional spotlight forced upon me when people discover that I am a Truthseeker. Pressured by my gaze, Henrietta folded. “I… understand. I won’t claim to know what you’re thinking but if that is your decision, I shall abide by it.”
“You have my thanks, Henrietta,” I allowed myself to let out a small sigh of relief as I glared ruefully at my covered right hand. “I have certainly deviated from the schedule. Henrietta, what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Ah, right.” She retrieved the handheld notebook from her breast pocket and flipped the pages. “Your honourable father Duke Lehtinen is absent so you are scheduled to speak to Count Antimion in his place.”
“That wily old snake?” I scoffed. “Have they yet to learn their place?”
“While they may share border duties, your honourable father is certainly far more skilled. For the Count to demand the rights of negotiation with the Polonia Free Federation…!”
“I hear he is backed by His Majesty the Emperor himself.” If I recall correctly… Count Antimion wrested the rights of negotiation from my father because I failed in forcing him to take me seriously despite my political acumen at that age still being incredibly sharp. Count Antimion’s dealings with the Free Federation would negatively affect the empire because of his decision to favour foreigners over his own citizens. As I mulled over how to deal with the count this time around, I noticed the gleam of a silver cover atop my covers that I didn’t see any time previously; leaving Henrietta to deal with the guests when they arrive, I moved to inspect the curious object. I raised my eyebrows upon seeing that it was the same exact shape as the diary I kept ever since I was formally announced as Crown Prince Andreas. I did not have this diary on me at my death… so why is it covered in blood?
Without hesitation, I opened the diary to the last entry I remember writing, dated to December 3, 1585. It was the day prior to the Truthseeker’s invasion of the imperial castle. The words in that diary were the same as the words from my memory. “So am I correct in assuming that this diary exists as my guiding light?” Of course, no one answered my question and I expected no such answer. I carefully perused the text and narrowed down possible events that I figured could be related to the disturbance to the worldline.
The attack on Alogulda Magic Academy, May 16, 1576.
The monster incursion near the Spiral Labyrinth Melassandre, February 9, 1577.
The Six-Duke Rebellion of October 10, 1578.
The assassination of Duke Ensio Lehtinen, father of Empress Consort Amalia, June 7, 1579.
The beginning of the Holy Kingdom Antioch’s invasion of the Empire, March 2, 1580.
The Gnostic organization Hermetic Light Order’s summoning ritual, July 27, 1581.
The dissolution of the Polania Free Federation, September 16, 1582.
The continent-wide famine of the winter of 1583.
The resurrection of ancient necrocivilizations beginning August 25, 1584.
The fall of the empire at Truthseeker Sir Floris van Hofwegen’s hand, December 4, 1585.
Each and every year there was a major event that directly threatened both her and her husband’s lives. If there were any events influenced by the divine, it was likely these. While she cannot at the moment know if she is correct, she can at the very least prepare for what she believes to be the event horizons that led the world askew. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with Count Antimion first…” I removed myself from my nightgown (I would later lament at my inability to show my dearly beloved husband my appearance as a child) before slipping into my everyday casual wear, a deep red dress paired with white evening gloves and a red cape with the crest of my house, the Lehtinen family, emblazoned onto its back. With supreme authority, she threw open the doors to her room and made her way to the guest room.