Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was customary when performing the memorial rights, which included the burning, and subsequent gemification of the ashes, to create a matching pair of gems. Ka Buan memorial gems were almost always created in even numbers, in pairs: twos, and fours, and sixes. Sometimes even eights. The reasoning behind this practice was relatively simple– a singular gem could not a bonding earring make; not, considering, each partner was meant to receive one of each style.

It was common practice, after all, to take the memorial gems of beloved and close kin, and utilize them in the creation of one's own bonding earring. 

"Why?" One of her companions asked, though she was remiss to at this point remember exactly who. Boniface, most likely, since they were the youngest amongst them and as such were the most likely to be unsure. Then again, this was about Ka Bue, and none of her allies had been there before. 

Chances were none of them were aware of the customs.

Regardless, Odile said, simply, "Because… It is a way to honor those who have come before us. In Ka Bue it is also a show of commitment and faith. A memorial gem one keeps is almost always from a person they cared for greatly, such as a parent, or family member, and by choosing to have their bonding earring inlaid by that same gem… it is meant to signify how close they are to this new person whom they are choosing to bond with. In theory, it means your bond is equally as deep, and the bond will be strengthened. That is what I've been told, at least."

Definitely Bonnie, this time. "Oh. I didn't know that!"

Odile nodded, unsurprised. "As far as I'm aware, it is a far cry from Vaugardian custom."

Isabeau nodded. "Here it's less about ties to the past. We're always changing, so each couple designs their own earrings their own way, and when one or both of the people in the couple Change, they'll change the designs of their earrings too!"

"Fascinating."

One of the gems attached to her eyeglass retainer had gone missing, early into the loops, between one reset and the next. Odile had found it odd, and frustrating, but she ultimately had bigger concerns to occupy herself with at the time. Regardless of how badly it irked her that she could not find it, searching for it would have to wait.

When they first defeat the King, and after making their slow ascent toward the end of that impossibly long and high hallway, Odile had been lightheaded, relieved, but definitely lightheaded, and she hadn't believed it when she first saw it.

Siffrin and the others kept walking but Odile stopped. Stared.

The Head Housemaiden was… wearing a bonding earring. And… set it into its center was the second of the pair of rhomboidal gems Odile had been keeping on her person for the last two years, as the only pieces of her father she had left. It sparkled as the Head Housemaiden tilted her head to speak to their companion, Mirabelle, and Odile knew for certain that this was it. It was hers.

Why in the world did the Head Housemaiden have Odile's gem?

She forgoes all of the other conversations she could have had with the others, stepping up immediately to talk to the Head Housemaiden as soon as Mirabelle had stepped away. Now that the King had been defeated, priorities had shifted, and Odile wanted answers.

The Head Housemaiden smiled at Odile sweetly, and with exuberance, but Odile was hardly swayed by her charms.

Euphrasie extended her hand out to the shorter woman, and when she clasped Odile's hands in both of hers her grip was firm but warm. A light pressure. Odile waited for her to release the gesture to pull her own hand back, and when the Head Housemaiden began by saying, "Ah, and you must be–"

Odile cut right over her and said, "Odile."

The Head Housemaiden smiled, and she giggled, too. "Well, I must thank you personally for helping our dear Mirabelle. I had no doubts she'd be capable enough but… knowing she had such equally capable help is incredibly reassuring. So, thank you, for not allowing her to be alone."

"Hm. You could thank me by telling me where you got that earring," Odile said, pointing to the Head Housemaiden's ear.

She brought a slender hand up, fingers brushing across the dark, sharply faceted stone and rhomboidal gem. "Oh, this old thing?" She asked, jovial, though after a moment or two her expression shifted, minutely. Confusion, faint and subtle but clear to someone looking closely, came over her, and she said in an almost mystified tone, "I'm not really sure, come to think of it."

Odile frowned in discomfort. She was about to say that it in fact belonged to her and she'd like it back, when she felt something odd. A rumble. A vibration. A crack.

That was when it all fell apart.

The Head Housemaiden, Euphrasie, stared at her wide eyed and horrified. She was crying. She was talking about starting over, rotting, it all falling apart and how she failed to catch it. How could she not have known? With panic in her eyes Odile gaped as Euphrasie grabbed onto her shoulders and begged her to be willing to one day forgive–

Odile closed her eyes.

She felt a tug at her stomach. Tight. Reeling her in. Tug, tug, tug.

When she resurfaced, she was back in the shop. Whole body teetering, hands alighting on the shelf to properly maintain her balance. Back at the beginning. The only evidence she'd even been there, with them? With her? ... a sparkle, an aftereffect, behind her eye when she closed her eyes. The gem. The bonding earring.

And… she reached her hands up to rub across her neck and then rubbed at her temples and, as they moved the left one brushed against a cool, angular surface, small and familiar and… Ah. 

It was back.

…Okay then.

It wasn't a total loss then, Odile supposed.

~~•°◇°•~~

[You received Memory of Bonding. You will always remember this.]

[Your focus in battle is reduced, arrested by the beautiful Head Housemaiden thief who stole your nonexistent bonding earring. –5》ATKSPD.]

Chapter Text

The leaves of the Favor Tree fell in whimsically slow ways, landing upon the ground and creating a thick layer upon the dirt. Perhaps this would have been a peaceful place, a nice, quiet spot she could have utilized to get away for a time, or collect her thoughts. Then again, that meant her most recent companion would have to divest themself of the space, and that hasn't happened once since the loops started. 

Odile doubted they had anywhere else to go.

Besides, they could be useful.

Sometimes.

Oh, and speaking of time… they were speaking of time right now.

"Mhm. Time is a funny thing, Orion! Think of a silly straw, but with extra loops and fun, funky scribbles. Oh, and sometimes the scribbles don't really exist, and sometimes the loops become really weird holes and, haha, who knows!-- at that point anything could happen! Doesn't that sound exciting?!"

"That sounds headache inducing, frankly." Odile replied.

Loop nodded oh so helpfully, "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm back here, with you."

"Ohhh!" Loop expelled an overly dramatic sigh, "Do you not enjoy my company, Orion?" They laughed.

"We beat the King, so I shouldn't be back here, again, but I am. Tell me why."

"Like I said before, time is a funny thing." Loop stalled, "Soooo…. I can't really tell you why."

"Okay… what can you tell me?"

~~•°◇°•~~

Odile and Loop have spent about two hours talking beneath the Favor Tree, and Odile must admit that Loop had been far less than helpful. Their answers were lacking in substance, and they seemed far too interested in anything besides telling Odile what she should actually be doing to break this time loop. Worse yet, was their preoccupation with teasing her about any topic that came up which could in any way be deemed amusing.

The celestial being sat flat on their stomach, hands propped under their chin and their legs bent upward, feet kicking lackadaisically behind them, "Oooooo, a bonding earring!" They tilt their head, nearly squealing before they say with feeling, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Odile, seated cross-legged on the opposite root, hardly reacted. "It wasn't important," She said, in a tone that communicated it should be dropped.

They had urgent things to discuss. That, was decidedly not.

Loop, however, was of a different opinion.

"Oh, sure, but, cmon." Loop shifted on their own tree root, rolling over so that it was now sticking into their back as opposed to their midsection, and they were now looking up at Odile upside-down. "How am I supposed to tease you properly when you don't inform me of all of these interesting little going-ons, hm?"

Yet more incentive not to inform them, Odile thought, but did not say. She had little desire to extend this conversation any longer than she must, after all.

Why would she even need to tell them? Weren't they all seeing? All knowing?

[No no no. Such an invasion of privacy-- That would just be plain rude, Orion! Sort of like you're being, right now.]

Loop cleared their throat and said, aloud, "Now, you want to know why she had an earring like that? Any theories?"

"Would I be asking you if I did?"

"Hah!" Loop continued to kick their feet back and forth, now above them. "Maybe… you gave it to her?"

Odile's brow furrowed. That hardly made any sense. "Why would I do that?"

"I dunno," Loop shrugged their shoulders, dragging across bark. "Maybe you like her," they teased, as if they were both children on the playground, as opposed to grown adults– grown adult, and cosmic being of undetermined age.

Odile scowled, and added, irritably, "When would I have done that?"

"Dunno," They said, then added in a cheeky tone, "Have you been sneaking off without my knowledge?"

Odile's scowl deepened.

"Ohho, you sly dog, Orion!"

Loop cleared their throat when Odile did not laugh or smile. "Really though, I am as shocked and surprised as you are. This is very irregular."

"How so?" Odile inquired.

"Oh, y'know, just very different from how time loops are meant to go, which is something I am an expert on. Of course. My name is Loop, and I am an utmost expert on time loops. Everywhere."

"Meant to– Hold on, different how?"

"Welllll, most of the time, a time loop goes in one specific direction. It's kind of like an air bubble, and it doesn't include any events outside of the confines of the bubble, kay." Loop spread their arms in a circle to indicate the bubble's hypothetical boundaries. 

"So as an example if you've got a loop and it always ends when you, say, accidentally kill your goldfish, events that happen after killing it– like it getting flushed down the toilet or the water in its tank getting all polluted since there's no reason to clean it– well, none of the effects of that stuff gets included, since everything is going to reset anyway soon as the fish dies. Following so far?" Loop asked.

Odile waved her hand, "Barely, but please proceed."

"Great. Now, since time is funny and weird and all wishy-washy, sometimes things that shouldn't happen do. Events that aren't happening within the bubble can impact what happens in the bubble, even if they haven't happened yet, in the case of future events, or already happened, in the case of past stuff."

"You took the time to establish a rule, to then immediately disprove it," Odile noted, sounding exhausted.

"Sure did. Neat, right?"

"Not really."

Loop winked one of their eyes, then continued, "Anyway, sometimes it's none of those things!"

"What?"

"Sometimes it's just weird!" Loop shrugged, "Not really sure what to tell you."

"I should assume you can't help me, then?"

"Oh, I can be of plenty assistance, just… not on this particular topic."

Odile could already feel the headache coming on. She squeezed at the bridge of her nose and tried not to inhale too sharply. 

"Yes, because you don't really understand what's happening either."

Loop went quiet. "No, not really. But I will still help you as best I can."

Odile supposed that was something, at least.

Odile hadn't thought about that bonding earring in several loops, seeing as she had far higher priorities. She needed to find a way to break the cycle, and that was her primary focus. She only even remembered it's existence after a third iteration of defeating the King, and a subsequent discussion with the Head Housemaiden. 

She said something that hadn't made any sense. Something different.

She said, "You used to be curious, Learned One," When Odile walked up to her and immediately asked what she knew, and how to reverse this, demanding that she do something for once.

Odile blinked, taken aback by Euphrasie's own departure from the script, not to mention the speaking out of turn. More importantly her expression was far less serene than it usually was right before everything crumbled to pieces. She looked hurt, oddly enough, as if the brisk manner in which Odile had spoken to her had offended her sensibilities. As if there was some expectation that Odile be… gentler. Patient.

As if they knew each other? As if they were… what? More than complete strangers?

Because Odile, personally, would not make the effort to be offended by the brashness of a stranger. And to Euphrasie, whom she was meeting for the first time (this loop), Odile was a complete and utter stranger.

"What? How could you possibly know what I used to be?"

Euphrasie looked around for a moment, then her eyes finally settled back on Odile properly, and she seemed to come back to herself. Then almost immediately her eyes widened, so very heartbroken, and her hand flew over her mouth, and Odile could tell this was it. The event had been triggered, somehow, and it was already beginning.

Odile could hardly bring herself to listen as Euphrasie repeated those same, tired lines. She closed her eyes before it was even over, agitated and yet, sad, again unable to watch her distressed, aching–

A tug. A large, hearty tug. It was starting again. She was going back. Back. Back.

Before Odile opened her eyes she saw… her own two hands, holding a small, familiar gem. Then a desk, a magnifying light, and tinkering with tiny tools as she went about setting the gem within its new, slightly larger stone home.

She saw, and barely registered that it was meant to be her, doing this, doing it, as the hands that were definitely hers passed over the completed bonding earring to someone else. 

It exchanged hands.

Then, a gasp. 

Laughter, surprised but exhilarated. 

She looked up, and saw the Head Housemaiden, smiling. Soft and quiet. Loving.

The same hands that received the earring from her passed something back in return, but Odile couldn't remember, besides… besides a cool feeling nestled in her palm.

Why couldn't she remember?

The ghosting of lithe fingers against her skin, ever so briefly touching her wrist, and then something cradled within her hand, and why couldn't she remember?

Remember.

Remember!

Odile opened her eyes with a wheezing start.

She was back in the shop.

She remembered something… warm… sweet, like honey at the back of her throat, syrupy… but whatever it was soon faded, slipping through her fingers.

Back to the drawing board.

~~~•°◇°•~~~

[Received Memory of Something Big. You probably won't remember this.]

[Hopefully it was nothing important.]

Chapter Text

In Ka Bue, there were two ceremonies of great cultural significance (not including, of course, the Exchanging of Bonding Earrings, a third, common all across the region and not just in Ka Bue).

Most commonly known outside of Ka Bue's own borders was the Memorial Ritual involving gems and ashes. This was one people talked about throughout the world, with many people from other countries having met a Ka Buan at some point who was absolutely, irrevocably and emotionally attached to a gemstone of all things.

At first the theory had been that Ka Buans, such odd peoples, were simply incredibly materialistic, loving stones as if they were people, and with some of them even being willing to come to blows over someone just trying to touch one. This misconception was later dispelled by a Vaugardian researcher who spent a year living in Ka Bue amongst the population, and could say with certainty by the end of it that materialism had little to do with anything when it came to Ka Bue.

Ka Buans owned very little. Individually, at least. Community was far more important, after all.

Most families shared possessions amongst themselves, and what few personal possessions a person did have to themselves were usually just… not that important. The only possession of any true, essential value, as far as any Ka Buan was concerned, was their gemstones.

They were the only thing one could never replace.

They tied into the way some Ka Buans practiced the Expressions that they believed in most, utilizing their gems to channel specific Expressions, or to perform certain Expressionistic ceremonies.

Most importantly, the gems were a tie to the past. A way to honor who came before. A direct connection to family, friends, and loved ones lost.

So, yes, a Ka Buan might want to scrap over a gem. Absolutely. But it wasn't because they were materialistic people.

It was because they were sentimental. Greatly so.

Odile might be half Vaugardian, but she was as equally susceptible as any other Ka Buan when it came to sentimentality.

When asked directly, Odile laughed goodnaturedly, and called it a disease. A sickness, more like.

Mirabelle, connoisseur of just about every romance novel on the planet worth its salt, laughed, too, and said, eyes bright, "Oh, like love, right?"

Odile tilted her head, entirely perplexed. "What?"

Mirabelle blushed, but tittered softly before explaining her point, "That's one of the things they say in the stories I've read, at least… Lovesickness!"

Isabeau said, "Oh yeah! Isn't that when two people like, care about each other so much they can't even handle it, so it's like an illness."

Mirabelle clapped once, happy that someone had caught on. She didn't notice the way Bonnie was snickering, either, nor the slight blush that had come across Isabeau's face. "Yes! And usually if it's true love they'll get even sicker anytime they have to be apart."

"Ew, does that mean they vomit all over the place?" Bonnie questioned in what was basically a shout, making a grossed out face and sticking their tongue out.

Mirabelle cringed. "Uh, no. Not usually… I don't think."

Odile hummed quietly, raising a brow. "A truly scientific explanation," She observed.

“I didn’t know romance books were your thing, Belle,” Siffrin observed, that customary grin on their face that said they were moments from making a pun. This one was one Odile, surprisingly enough, had not heard yet, seeing as this entire conversation was new territory.

Mirabelle shook her head quickly, “Oh, they’re not. They’re not, really, I just– when I run out of horror books I like to… sometimes I just like a happy ending!”

“Of course you do. I like good endings too.” –That shit eating grin of theirs only widened as they said– “They’re just am-ace-ing.”

Mirabelle’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but after a moment or two she laughed. Siffrin’s eyes sparkled, and Odile could tell they were silently congratulating themselves (mentally patting their own back and all that, getting a good grade in friendship.)

Isabeau laughed with them, after a second or two, but eventually said, “Huh. I don’t really get it.”

“I believe it's an inside joke, Isabeau," Odile told him.

"Awww, yeah," Isabeau chortled happily, "Look at them getting on."

"They're cute, aren't they?"

Isabeau laughed. "Yup. Plain adorable."

"Let's get going," Odile said as she began to walk further into the House's second floor, "We do have Sadnesses to fight."

The group went on their way, with Siffrin in the lead, as always. Bonnie stuck close to Odile, a bounce in their step as they skipped along to keep up with her.

"What about the other thing?" They asked, arms swinging at their sides.

Odile offered a smile. For them, regardless of how many loops she went through, she could always, always, offer at least a smile. "Oh? What other thing, Boniface?"

"Um. The other culture stuff. You explained why you have those gems, but what about the other thing?"

"Ah. Well, you might be pleased to hear that the other thing relates to food." Odile told them, and their eyes lit up immediately.

"Woah! Nice!!! Tell me more! Tell me!!"

Plain adorable, indeed.

Odile cleared her throat, and began to explain.

~~•°~~

Omiyage. It was, in essence, an exchanging of cuisine. A gift of food. Travelers returning home often brought sweets or other such delicacies from the places they have visited, giving them out to friends, family, or coworkers. It was a social courtesy, and was essentially important to the Ka Buan populace.

It could, also, be considered a sign of affection.

Or…

~~•°~~

"Omiyage. You said it could be considered a form of apology for the traveler's absence, right?"

Odile blinked, terribly confused. The Head Housemaiden, Euphrasie, was staring at her, smiling, and… what?

"When… when did I tell you that?"

"You don't remember?" She asked, and she sounded terribly sad.

Odile sputtered. "Should I?"

Euphrasie sighed. "No… I suppose not."

Silence. It sounded like signal static behind Odile's ears.

They sat before a small bounty, an eclectic collection of foods Odile was well aware that she'd come across in her travels– grapes from Jovente, carrots and grains, pastries, from Dormont… a number of dishes from all over Vaugarde, spread upon a checkered blanket. The House's walls towered high above them, but this room was familiar. 

The Head Housemaiden's office…

Odile has never been in here, not without the others. And certainly not with the Head Housemaiden… alone. Oddly enough, that makes her face heat up, and she scolds herself for getting flustered like some silly child with a crush. Answers first. She could worry about whatever this ridiculous feeling was later.

"What's going on?"

Euphrasie shrugged. "I doubt it matters… Let's not allow this generous bounty to go to waste, hm?"

Odile frowned, "I don't understand– Do you… do you know?"

Was she aware of the loops, too, in the same way Odile was? Did she know?

Euphrasie simply smiled at her, tilting her head, and though the bonding earring was gone, missing, Odile swore she saw a slight sparkle near her ear, glittering in the light. 

"Not now," The Head Housemaiden said softly, and she took Odile's hand in hers, so, so very gently. Clasping her palm tenderly, lifting it up slightly as if she was thinking of kissing the back of her hand, before she thought better of it, and lowered it back down to simply hang between them. 

"I'm afraid your time here is short, Traveler, so… let us just enjoy the moment."

And so, the pair broke bread together, so to speak. They have Omiyage.

~~•°◇°•~~

Odile wouldn't do this would just anyone. She wouldn't tell this to just anyone.

Sharing pieces of herself like this…

When the next loop inevitably started, she let her forehead hit the shelf, and just stood there for a moment, crouched over the shop's limited selection of merchandise in this particular corner. 

She tried to catch her breath. Her fingers turn extra pale at the tips as she gripped the shelf.

Gems. She needed answers.

~~~•°◇°•~~~

[You received Memory of Omiyage! You will always remember this.]

[Something isn't right here, and you can tell. Your suspicion increases. +10%》CritChance]

Chapter Text

There was one thing her father always used to tell Odile when she was small. He always stressed the importance of family, and Odile, like a barnacle holding on to a dock desperately, took the lesson to heart. 

Growing up, she was always surrounded by her father's family. Her grandmother lived with them, and various aunts, uncles and cousins dropped by often enough that it wasn't uncommon to have several such visits in one week. And, once a month, the entirety of the family who were in close contact got together at a central location, and had a meal.

Osechi. 

Odile always looked forward to that.

She was also a quiet child. Different from her cousins. Some of the differences were obvious, though the young ones took no note of them– her hair was thicker, too thick, and her eyebrows too thin, and, sometimes, she became contemplative, and wished to speak to no one. 

Sometimes, she simply listened.

Sometimes, other times, she went days without speaking.

Her grandmother said she got that from her father, that serious glint in her eyes when she was really thinking about something hard. He had it too, she said. Got surly and silent, too.

But Odile wondered. She wondered about all kinds of things.

She wondered what she got from her mother. As she got older, no longer a tiny child but a young lady, she wondered if that was why she was so different from the other people she met.

She wondered what her family would be like, the other half. Though she found solace with her father and with that piece of her heritage, she still felt… disconnected. 

Like something was missing. It was small at first, but as she grew, so, too, did it, that feeling of something missing.

Her father was a scholar, with a focus on cultures. Vaugardian culture, specifically. He never really talked about her mother, besides to say that she was… complicated. She was from Vaugarde. The rest, Odile knew– she left when she was young… never wanted her, abandoned her and their family.

It took hours of research and digging, but Odile learned everything she could. She found her mother's family name, and, through word of mouth and savvy listening skills, found out her father had met her on a trip to Vaugarde. He'd been particularly interested in the architecture of one of their provinces, and Odile's mother had been incredibly helpful in guiding him through the city.

At one point, years down the road, her father tells Odile just how much he loved her– her mother.

Odile, always one for wondering, wonders why.

That, he does not say.

He does say, that he loved her too, his perle, and Odile does, at least, think she's come to understand one thing.

(She thinks she knows why her father placed such an importance on family… She thinks that, maybe, he was afraid she'd turn out just a bit like her mother, and leave as she had. So he tried to establish roots for her, ties to her family and to her home. Ties to him, and ties to Ka Bue.

For the most part, Odile was thankful for this.)

Ka Bue was her home. Vaugarde was a far away land she had only ever heard about.

Her mother's family was hers, but only in name. Only in theory, not in practice.

She wanted to learn more… yet, there was no urgency in it, for her. She had spent a lifetime not knowing them. A few days, months, or even years here or there made little difference.

That changed when her father died. At that point a woman with forty odd years behind her, she held it together well. She attended the memorial, made the proper arrangements, and only after all of that was said and done, did she allow herself to grieve. Only then did she fall apart.

She went to their town's Jeweller with her father's ashes, picking options out of massive, centuries old catalogs with a hawk-like eye. Shape, luminosity, cut and size. Her eyes were misty but she didn't cry, and the Jeweller knew she was all business. Out of courtesy and respect, he didn't attempt to gouge her, something she would have noted in a heartbeat, and skipped the customary haggling step entirely– flat rate, fair and reasonable, and Odile agreed with a small amount of thankfulness.

She left the order with him.

Then she… she couldn't bring herself to pick it up. She couldn't bear the thought of going back.

She received them in a parcel, two weeks after they had been made. Her uncle had been 'in the city' and wanted to be sure she got them, so he went by the Jeweller and picked them up himself. Quite courteously sent them in the mail.

Two for Odile, two for her grandmother.

Small, rhomboidal, sharply faceted gems.

It was what they could afford. And, it was what her father would have wanted.

"Mhm. Sharp, just like my boy's wit," Her grandmother proclaimed as Odile removed them from the parcel with shaky hands, and, without a word, handed a pair to her. They were cool against her skin, and tears welled at the sight of them, but Odile wiped them away before they could fall. 

"Just like you," Her grandmother added, and Odile bit her lip and her tongue.

Because even then she knew something about that statement wasn't right… wasn't true.

Her father's name was Bijou, and she was as much his child as she was her mother's, too.

She had never fully acknowledged that before.

That week, she fitted the pair of gems from her father onto a custom-made retainer chain, which she attached to her glasses– so that he would always be with her. The next week, after much consideration, she left for Vaugarde.

She was, after all, her mother's child.

…Perhaps running was in her nature.

"You never talk about your family," Bonnie pointed out in a frankly shocking development. Odile had, quite genuinely, assumed they had not noticed.

Odile smiled, lopsided. "It wouldn't be a very interesting topic, I'm afraid. They're good people… kind people, but I doubt you want to hear about our many family dinners over the years," She said, a partial truth. A portion of the story, the pieces Boniface would find easily digestible and that Odile was ready to share at the moment. 

She spoke of her father's family, of course. The rest… well, the rest wasn't anything Bonnie needed to hear about.

"Yeah, but… you haven't said anything! I wanna know stuff!...like… do you have siblings?! Aren't your parents like a bazillion years old? And who do you share samosas with when you go home? Oh, and recipes! Do you have any?"

"No siblings, no. Fortunately or otherwise, I'm an only child. As for family recipes, I have plenty, but I also made a promise not to share them with just anyone."

"I'm not just anyone though," Bonnie countered, pouting with arms crossed.

Odile laughed. "How about a deal? If you swear to secrecy, I'll jot a few down for you. Just don't tell Isabeau."

Bonnie cheered, pumping one fist in the air. "Hehe! Yea!"

"Why the sudden interest in my family, hm?"

Bonnie looked away, quite suddenly refusing to make eye contact, and immediately some of the energy leaked from their body as if they'd been sapped. They didn't even need to speak, instead just frowning slightly, for Odile to understand what was wrong.

"Ah, I see," Odile murmured, and for a moment neither spoke.

Bonnie crossed their arms. They opened their mouth, surely to say it wasn't a big deal, or it didn't matter, or they didn't care. Or something equally defensive, but Odile beat them to the punch.

"Very well. At this point it is practically my obligation to regale you with my most mortifying family tales."

That got Boniface to perk up immediately. "Really?"

"Indeed. I'll tell you one about my father, first. Now, my father was one of a select few Ka Buans whom, after returning from Vaugarde, adopted the practice of utilizing multiple names. His first, was Bijou, from his own father. The second he picked, was Cleal. The third, was Paperasse, which he got from–" Odile sighed softly and shook her head, before clarifying, "where isn't particularly important–"

"So his full names were Bijou Cleal Paperasse?" Bonnie asked, already snickering very quietly. Out of respect, surely, because otherwise they'd probably be laughing very loudly already.

Odile's lip ticked upward in response to Bonnie's amusement. "His name was Bijou Cleal Paperasse." Then she added, so very seriously, "In Vaugardian the first two names translate directly to mean Jewel Crystal, but in Ka Buan, it really means 'crystal clear'."

Odile watched Boniface try to keep their laughter in.

"Crystal clear Paperasse?"

Odile nodded very seriously. "Yes."

Bonnie bursted out laughing, and Odile allowed herself to be swept up in the moment. This conversation, at least, Odile would have exactly the same, every time, without fail.

"You care about them, don't you?" Euphrasie asked, and she referred, of course, to Bonnie.

Odile refused to confirm the statement. Not yet, at any rate. Not without asking some questions of her own.

"Enough of this. How do you know so much about me?"

"Because I know you," Euphrasie said, again sounding hurt, and she emphasized each word as if it were an obvious conclusion.

"We've never met before," Odile countered.

"And yet, we've met one hundred times over. We are always meeting, and knowing, and then not knowing once more."

For once, Odile was uncertain what to say.

"Don't you remember this? Me, taking your hand? And you falling in step with me?" Euphrasie paused, staring up at the sky through the observatory's glass view pane. It was dark out, and yet the constellations sparkled. "Dancing beneath the stars…"

Odile swallowed, throat feeling oddly tight. Something about the way Euphrasie gazed at her, like she was someone important, someone who mattered to her, a beloved one, gave her a great deal of pause. 

She looked away, toward the starry, night sky, before she asked softly, "Do you?"

"Sometimes… other times, no." Another pause. "It's odd, isn't it?"

"What?" Odile asked, since as far as she was concerned everything that had occurred today, and every single loop of today, was odd to insanely ridiculous degrees.

"The way time plays tricks… Not to mention the way a single wish can change everything." Euphrasie leaned back on her elbows, laying on the tiled floor, staring up at the stars. "What did you wish for, Odie?"

"Odie?" Odile sharply turned her head to stare at the Head Housemaiden.

"Right, you're… my apologies. I shall call you Madame Odile."

Odile shook her head once or twice to rid herself of the bothersome, additional questions swirling after that, then said, "Mhm. Anyway, to… to answer your inquiry– I don't recall. It was… might as well have been ages ago… but I imagine it likely had to do with…"

Family, old or new. Born or found. Blood indeed running as thick as water.

She went silent.

Euphrasie absorbed that. "I see. Would you like to know what I wished for?"

Odile nodded. Someone who knew what they wanted was a plus, she supposed.

"It would probably sound silly to you, especially given my stature, my station, but… I wished for a white knight in shining armor, essentially."

"For Dormont?"

Euphrasie laughed quietly, as if that wasn't at all what she was thinking. Then she nodded in agreement, still amused, and said, "Indeed, for Dormont. For our dearest Mirabelle… and, perhaps, for myself."

If she spoke of a white knight, then, most likely, she spoke of Siffrin. Or perhaps Isabeau, who would also fit such a role exceptionally well.

Odile didn't even consider the possibility that it could be her whom she was referring to. Odile was no hero, and she most certainly was not a knight in shining armor.

~~•°~~

The room faded, a mirage image out in the heat, and it was near impossible to determine what had been real and what had been but a dream. And yet Odile remembered a hand in hers, and the faint brushing of lips over her cheek.

She remembered, finally, with stark clarity, the luminescent, opalescence of a twin pair drop of gems, concentric circles, spiraling, hanging from her own ear and shining with a rainbow of prismatically reflected gray hues. Her. It was her. Euphrasie. (It was also in stark contrast with the bonding earring Odile had seen previously –dark and sharp edged, decorated by her own gem– the new piece its antithesis in every way.)

She remembers so much, so much that has never happened. That will and won't occur.

She remembered starkly her wish. And, she remembered that running was not in her nature. Not like her mother.

No, it was in Odile's nature to search. To learn all that she could…

Now, those efforts would be focused, in part, on the Head Housemaiden. Her. Euphrasie.

~~~•°◇°•~~~

[You received Memory of Wishes. You will always remember this.]

[Wishes do come true? Maybe? Who knows? Anyway, you're on to something. +5》ATK and ◇ATKUP during battle]

Chapter Text

Madame Odile was a relatively thin woman, and she had a sharp, severe look about her. Unlike the rest of dearest Mirabelle's companions, she was no longer young, and she knew that fact well.

Almost chilly, and calculated, she carried herself with an air of wisdom.

She was very intriguing indeed, but it took about three repetitions of meeting, and knowing, and then failing to know, for the Head Housemaiden to realize something was amiss.

During their first meeting, the first loop where the group succeeded at beating the King, Odile walked up to Euphrasie and shook her hand. Odile's own hands were slender, exceedingly so, but her grip was tight. Stern. Strong. Her movements were crisp, her cadence measured, almost formal, but polite all the same. She spoke, truly, almost like someone unused to speaking unless when she had to, and yet Euphrasie finds her incredibly easy to listen to.

Her accent was unusual; Like the Head Housemaiden's herself, it was decidedly not Vaugardian– she was not from Jovente, or Bambouche, or even Dormont. She was from afar.

Euphrasie welcomed her, the dear Traveler, and then remarked on how lucky they were to have had her assistance, even in spite of how far she had to surely travel to do so.

The woman, Odile, who had not yet disclosed her own name, balled one hand into a fist and brought it up to cover her mouth before clearing her throat. Her face was a little flushed, and Euphrasie hoped she had not managed to embarrass her. She did, after all, seem exceptionally kind… helping their Mirabelle as she and the others had.

Eventually the woman, having gotten her scattered wits about her, demured, and said, "Ah, well, I was already in the country on my own business, but uh, yes, I suppose it could be considered… lucky, that I was here."

"Indeed. Mirabelle has just told me so much about you and the others… Miss–?"

"Madame. Madame Odile."

~~•°~~

The second time, Odile walked up to Euphrasie, stuck out her hand, firmly shook hers, then immediately asked, "What was to happen now?"

And Euphrasie could not, for the life of her, figure out what she meant.

~~•°~~

The third time, even now, Euphrasie can't remember.

~~•°~~

The fourth time, Euphrasie was wearing an earring. She wasn't sure where it came from, besides knowing it was from someone dear to her.

When Odile entered the hall, missing a gem, Euphrasie thought little of it. And yet, when Odile questioned where she got the earring and Euphrasie realized she genuinely couldn't answer, that changed things.

~~•°~~

She didn't know when she recognized the loops, outside of that singular moment at the very end. Nor, when it became apparent that there were influences outside of it. She also didn't know when she realized that Odile was the key. But she did. She knew.

She knew. Odile was the cornerstone, in more ways than one.

It was many, many loops down the road, when she saw Odile with an earring of her own. Concentric circles, stacked together, hanging from her ear, one larger and one smaller. Iridescent and beautiful, and it was nothing like Madame Odile, with her sharp edges, and yet Euphrasie was profoundly amazed by how much it suited her. It suited her, the earring.

She suited her.

When Odile stepped over to her, as she had many, many times before, Euphrasie had almost an itch, a compulsion, to touch her cheek. Odile tilted her head, and the earring moved with her, refracted the light in lumiscent, gray, fractal hues.

"Where did you–?" Euphrasie trailed off, almost too shocked to speak.

"I don't know," Odile replied, clipped. Shocked. She too was at a loss for words.

"Is that…" mine?

"I don't… I don't know," Odile sighed, hand reaching up to fiddle with it idly, "It appeared out of nowhere… much the same as a sickness, or a disease, or a blight. Parasitic even… I don't know how it got here or how to get rid of it."

"It's an earring, Learned One. If you do not want it you could always take it off," Euphrasie pointed out, despite the odd flip flop of her stomach at the thought.

Odile frowned at that. "No. I'll keep it. Since it's in my ear, that means it's mine now."

"Are you sure? I would hate to–"

"To what? It has nothing to do with you. Just the universe playing tricks on me." Odile scoffed, now, and if not for the circumstances Euphrasie would recognize it as a tad endearing. Odile shifted her weight, hand at her hip, though her right hand still fiddled idly with the earring. "My ears aren't even pierced."

Euphrasie tilted her head in genuine confusion. "Really… do they not practice Bonding in Ka Bue."

"Of course we do."

"Sorry, I just meant… not the same way as we do? With earrings?"

"It isn't we, anyway… This is about me. I've never once thought of myself as the person who would entertain such things. I never got my ears pierced for a reason."

"I see," Euphrasie said softly. "Do you not…" She paused, deciding that phrasing was too accusatory. Too sharp. Instead she asked, curiously, "Do you believe in true love, Madame?"

Odile snorted softly at that. "True love?"

"You think it silly? In Vaugarde it's believed that true love is the basis of the bonding process." Euphrasie neared, moving closer, closer, closer still, until she was within Odile's own orbit.

Odile tilted her head, shifted her footing, her fingers digging faintly into the side of her hip, and as Euphrasie neared, close enough to touch her, she noticed the way Odile's breath hitched. Euphrasie reached out a hand, using her thumb to gently tilt Odile's head up and to the side, giving a better view of the earring.

It shimmered in the light, something like planets moments from eclipsing one another, but that wasn't what caught Euphrasie's attention.

It was Madame Odile. 

She had beautiful eyes. Sharp and almost shrewd. A discerning darkness that shone when hit just right by the lights above them.

Furthermore, she looked starstruck. Euphrasie doesn't know how she knew, but she knew she'd never seen Odile look this way. It has her mesmerized.

Euphrasie focused back in on the earring. With her free hand she reached up to touch it, tracing a curved edge with her index finger, and Odile, still gazing up at her from the corner of her bespectacled eyes, shivered as if Euphrasie had touched her instead.

"You're lucky, Learned One. This earring implies you've already found yours."

"My one true love?" Odile asked, and she sounded dubious at best.

Euphrasie laughed. "Hmm, yes. Is that really so unimaginable?"

"We have a similar term in Ka Bue: Souru meito. Soulmate. A singular person whose spirit is, in essence, exactly the same as your own– Cut of the same gem. Two pieces of one whole." Odile's tone had turned wistful, but she shook her head, and even scoffed, lightly. "It always seemed far fetched to me, the concept of true love… having one person who was meant for you."

"Oh?"

"It's juvenile. A fever dream, really."

~~~•°◇°•~~~

Odile should know.

Her father spoke of it, on rare occasions. Souru meito. Soulmates. Her mother had been his, he swore. He believed. He fell for it, hook, line and sinker.

Intelligent man that he was, he'd been tricked. Duped. Deceived.

When Odile was but ten, she found it. The earring. Her earring. The earring she had given to him. The earring her father had convinced himself had meant he'd found it; true love.  

He'd been holding on to it all that time.

Crystal clear but murky centered, with several inclusions in its matrices that made it refract light in odd ways and somehow added to its mysterious unknowables.

Even now, she remembered the cool, sharp edges digging into the skin of her palm, as she pressed, squeezed, holding it against her heart and tightening her grip around it until it felt as though it would be crushed in her hand. 

She asked her father what it meant, and he'd said that it, unlike he'd first believed, meant nothing at all, truly. Nothing.

Odile took that to heart, too.

~~•°~~

It was a summer dalliance. Flight of fancy. Puppy love at its finest. They were young, and foolish, and madly in love, but Odile was no fool.

Souru meito. Soulmates. She laughed at the thought, and returned the sparkling, jeweled stud before she could even properly accept it.

Besides…. They were, ultimately, just one of many.

~~•°~~

Euphrasie smiled softly at Odile. "I understand," She said, and her hand was still beneath Odile's chin, thumb now brushing over her cheek beneath the dangling earring. 

Her tone was light, airy. Almost adoring when she said, "I must be the one to show you it is not a fool's errand, to love as we do, here." She leaned closer, closer, breath ghosting over Odile's face as she added, "It would be an honor, Dear One."

Odile's heart was in her throat. One of Euphrasie's hands found its way to Odile's hip, the other still cradling her face, and then she leaned down, tilted her head down and Odile's upward, before going in to kiss her. And in that moment, Odile was caught between panic and anticipation. Shock and a deep well of desire and a confusion like no other. Somehow, she's certain they've done this before despite having no memory of doing so. But, it felt right. So, so very right.

Just as their lips were about to meet, something cracked. Something, something, that same, hated, beleaguered something, and then it all slipped away. Sands of time through her fingers. She felt that horrid tug, and then she woke up, back in the store, heart racing.

With jaw clenched, she drew her heeled foot back and kicked the shelf as hard as she could. It teetered, and there was a clatter, and a crack, and then shouting from the shop owner Odile hardly even noticed.

~~~•°◇°•~~~

[You received Memory of Soulmates. You will always remember this.]

[Wow, Orion. No idea you had it in you! Congrats.]