Under A Velvet Cloak

It was the time of a great king who ruled from a shining city. He had been trained in statesmanship by a powerful mage, and had united the warring clans to form a kingdom that would be long remembered. He had gathered a prominent group of knights under his banner of chivalry. They met at a table in the shape of a circle, so that there was no seeming order of rank among them. But this is not that story.

In a small village in this kingdom was a family with two daughters. The lack of a son might have been unfortunate, but the elder sister was beautiful, outgoing, talented in the arts, intelligent, and
good
natured. She would inevitably be courted by many eligible young men, fall in love with the handsomest and wealthiest, marry, and have many excellent children. Some of her distant descendants would become Incarnations of Immortality, and others would marry them. But this is not that story either.

The younger sister was fair of feature, but slow to develop, so that at age thirteen she still lacked breasts. This was awkward, as other girls her age were already fascinating young men. She was quiet, introspective, observant, and sometimes given to flashes of intuition. That would have been acceptable, had she not made the error of expressing them. She was simply too smart and nervy for a girl. Her prospects were bleak.

This is her story. As seen by a ghost.

Jolie quested until she found the correct girl. She could tell by the feel of her. She had to get it right, because once she entered, she would probably be confined to that body, until her long mission was done. She couldn’t just flit about, because she was out of her timeline and could readily get lost.

This second sister was the one. She fit the description, and she felt right. She had vastly more potential than she knew, and she was the pivotal figure in the divergence of realities. What others did didn’t matter; only this girl’s actions were responsible for the key changes.

Jolie entered the body and was subsumed. Her awareness became the girl’s awareness, but Jolie retained her own identity to the extent she wished. She could assert herself any time she needed to, but it was too much of an effort to bother with routinely.

Kerena did not know what to
do.
She was so much in her elder sister Katherine’s shadow that she was in effect invisible. She seemed destined to remain a drag on her parent’s household. There was barely enough to go around as it was; they could not afford to feed her indefinitely.

That’s what you think, girl. Your life is about to change significantly.
Jolie was not really talking to Kerena, who was not aware of her presence. But the pretense made her feel better. She could influence the girl’s thoughts, and thus her actions, but it was essential that she not do that unless it was absolutely necessary. Anonymity was golden.

Then a Seer visited the village, really just passing through on his way to somewhere more important, and Kerena suffered a flash. If she could somehow persuade him to take her off their hands, that would be almost as good as marriage. They would be free of the burden, and she would get to travel. Of course it would not be a completely pleasant existence, but she could gather herbs, scrub pots, and do whatever else a servant girl did. Men traveling alone were always in need of such services; they were incompetent housekeepers.

That’s it, girl. He is a good man. Do it.
If for some obscure reason the girl didn’t
do
it, then Jolie would have to encourage her, because this connection was vital.

In fact vital rather understated the case. There were a seemingly infinite number of timelines, alternate realities, each slightly different from its neighbor, the differences growing as they progressed. The tiniest deviance could generate massive change farther down the timeline. If a girl was walking at dusk to a love tryst, and made it, and conceived and birthed a baby, that baby could grow up and have descendants of lesser or greater significance. But if that girl happened to see a large spider and took a fright, and fled home instead of making her tryst, there would be no baby, and all of what that new person did in life would be lost. All because the maiden happened to see the spider instead of missing it. The change of the direction of one glance could alter the fate of that entire timeline.

This was not academic. In Jolie’s timeline the Incarnation of Good had made a study of adjacent and nearby alternate timelines, and discovered that only one achieved salvation: her own. All the others, as far as the Incarnations had fathomed, expired in hellfire, chaos, or some other dreadful doom. It was hardly possible to discovery why, as that would require in-depth studies of an infinite number of variants. God-the Incarnation of Good-could not check directly, because few folk could cross between timelines. Only those who had no similar selves in the others, and there were not many of those.

Instead they had sought the closest variant, and prepared Jolie to go there, to its earliest point of divergence, so she could in effect change the girl’s glance and salvage the situation. Jolie could not affect her own timeline, because of the paradox of changing her own existence, but she could touch this adjacent one. They called it Timeline Two, or T2, the original being T1. There might not be a Jolie here, but by the time she brought it into alignment there would be a Jolie. That would be a different person from herself, with an independent existence, but very similar in all the ways that counted. Including, unfortunately, her tragically early death. That was uncomfortable to consider. Suppose the Jolie of this timeline survived, and she had to change it to make her die? She hated the very notion, yet knew she would do it if she had to.

The hope was that in this straightforward manner a second timeline could be saved. Then the Jolie of that universe could do the same for the third timeline, and so on in a chain, saving many that were otherwise doomed. T1 to T2, T2 to T3, and so on, in theory. Perhaps there were many routes to salvation, but the only pattern they could be sure of was the first one. They had to make the second align with the first, at least until it was close enough to achieve salvation on its own.

Thus her mission was literally to save a universe. She had no certainty of success, but it was something that had to be tried. The folk of this timeline did not deserve the cruel fate that awaited them otherwise. Meanwhile she was learning things about the prior course of her own timeline, because of the alignment. These supposedly dull details were thus made fascinating. Here was an innocent girl proceeding to a tryst of a sort. Let her not see a spider!

Kerena walked to the verge of the commons where the Seer had made camp. He was a man of middling-early adulthood, halfway handsome despite his worn clothing. His great velvet cloak was hanging from a tree branch; it was decorated with stars. She came to stand before him, unspeaking, for respectable maidens did not address strangers.

“Hello, child,” the man said.

She looked up, meeting his gaze, though this was another unmaidenly thing to _do. _”I am not a child. I am thirteen.” There was something about his eyes she found compelling.

Trust him. He is your early love.
Jolie could see some distance along the girl’s life. This was necessary to be sure of alignment.

“My apology for misjudging you,” he said jovially. “I was not using my Sight.” He focused, and Kerena felt the special power of it. “Well!”

“You need a helper,” she said. It was hardly a guess, and she knew it was especially true for him.

“And you need training, to become what you can be.”

“You will take me, then.” She was not asking.

“Of course.” He considered. “But you must understand, it is not entirely for routine chores.”

“As an apprentice.”

“That also.”

There was too much to assimilate. “Please, tell me in simple words.”

“You have marvelous potential as a Seer; I recognize it in you as you recognize the reality of this power in me. But you are also a lovely young woman. This complicates it.”

Kerena shook her head. “I am not.”

You are.

“I see you as you are two years hence, grown. I will fall in love with you. That is not wise.”

She caught another flash. “And I with you. Is that bad?”

“Not bad in the sense of evil. But it will interfere with both our powers, especially with respect to each other. That could be dangerous.”

“What have I to lose? I have no future at home.”

“Your comfort. Your reputation. Your life-all are at risk.”

“You risk much also.”

He sighed. “I have tried to warn you, but your coming beauty overwhelms the foolish male in me. So we are decided. I had better talk to your parents.”

And we are on our way.

“This way.” Kerena was somehow not even surprised; her flash vision of the future was not a picture so much as a feeling of Tightness. This was her destined course.

“Perhaps now we should exchange our names,” he said as they walked. “I am Morely.”

“Kerena.”

“Already I like the name too well.”

She understood. Never before had she related so swiftly and completely to a strange man. But he had ceased being strange the moment their eyes met. She recognized in him the power she sought, though she had not known until now that she sought it. He would complete her.

They came to her house. Her father emerged, scowling. “What is going on here?”

“I am Morely the Seer. I wish to take this young woman as my apprentice. In accordance with standard practice, I proffer these three pieces of silver.”

The scowl faded. The silver would see them through the winter with far greater comfort, especially considering that they would no longer have to support her. It might be that the real nature of her service would be as a child mistress; it was nevertheless a very good deal for the family.

No, he is not a child molester.
But Kerena already recognized that, thanks to her Seeing. In any event, she did not consider herself to be a child, as she had said. Whatever this man wanted of her, she was ready to give. It was part of the bargain.

Her father accepted the silver. Thus was the contract made.

Kerena gathered her few belongings. Katherine came to hug her. “Send word,” she said tearfully. They had always gotten along reasonably well together, in significant part because Kerena had Seen the futility of showing her jealousy.

“I will.”

Kerena spent the night at Morely’s camp, sharing his meager food by the fire. “I had no idea you would pay so much.”

“The expectation is that you will be bonded to me until you work off that amount. That is academic; you owe me nothing.”

“I will nevertheless try not to disappoint you.”

“Take my bed. I will sleep on the other side of the fire.”

She did not argue, though she was nervous about sleeping alone outdoors. What monsters did the darkness conceal? Yet this was a price of her commitment; she would endure.

He had made a bed of pine needles with a blanket above and his voluminous velvet cloak below. The fire had driven off most of the bugs. It was sufficient.

The situation reminded Jolie strongly of her own introduction to the realm of the Incarnations of Immortality. She had been a terrified French girl, seven or eight centuries hence, associating with a Sorcerer’s apprentice. It had taken her so long to trust him, but when she did, she had loved him. This girl Kerena had the gift of Seeing, so understood such a process much more rapidly. Still, it would require much work before she had full use of her talent, instead of occasional flashes.

Next day they traveled. As they walked, Morely explained the business. “Part of the power is real, but most of it is showmanship. People have to be persuaded to part with their wealth. We need sustenance; it is a complication of mortality. So we dazzle them with incidentals to satisfy them. What is real will take time to develop, but the other is readily learned.”

Kerena was pleased that already he was saying “we.” It confirmed her legitimacy as his companion.

She learned. Divination with dice or entrails was largely a matter of fathoming what the subject wanted to hear, and providing it with enough vagueness so as not to be directly caught in an error. If true Seeing was negative, a way had to be found to make the news palatable. If a love potion was desired, caution was recommended: potions did not work perfectly in every case, as they could incline the recipient to the wrong person. So there was no guarantee, but the one who bought one could take a small sip to verify its effect. Since folk truly wanted such magic to work, they generally felt a rush of passion when they sipped, verifying it to their eager satisfaction.

“And some merely like a diversion,” Morely said. “When you fill out, you will dance in clothing that proffers tempting glimpses of your young flesh. This will attract a group of prospects.”

Who will slaver at the titillation of those glimpses. Men are typically crude. You’ll get used to it.

“I will do what is expedient,” Kerena agreed, not entirely pleased. She had never respected the way males of all ages acted toward her sister. Nor, for that matter, the way her sister responded, liking the attention.