Iobel is sitting at her desk in her room, with Cricket on her feet, taking inscrutable notes on something. She's left the door to the room open, and looks up when Edarial approaches.

"I. Um. Did math." That is a terrible explanation. He is so terrible at this. "I have no idea what to do with this information."

"Why were you doing math about killing people in my defense in the first place?"

"Because it's - the kind of thing I feel like I need to know in advance. If I could be a murderer. And - both Cypress and Max had extremely specific reasons for killing. That being," he motions to her, "in defense of someone else."

"Bells," specifies Iobel.

"Yeah. Bells. And - I'm not assuming that because they did, I will, too, I - did math."

"The - point system thing."

"I'm not bothered by the idea of having a rank in a point system at all, I was just bothered by how the others were obviously all set to have a - fun contest about it."

He nods. "Phis is planning to fix things, which is great, but you are already working on fixing them by being queen. And have shown that you are capable of doing so. So you're definitely winning there. And - it's only about two points behind Phix. Ice is about six points ahead of her, if you'd like a comparison scale."

"... Yes? Why wouldn't you be? She's got the huge factors of being able to resurrect the dead, and their empire is - all stable and perfect and everything."

"I don't know, maybe I - misunderstood what it's supposed to measure."

"I had my understanding of the weightings wrong, then, I guess."

Edarial smiles a little. "I - sorry, I should have realized."

"How would you have known?"

"I have no idea, but I'm occasionally mad at myself for not knowing everything. So."

"What is the breakdown? If you don't mind saying."

"Seven point six for intellect, twelve for wanting to help the world and using monarchy to do it and actually manage it, three point five for being systematic and logical about it, two for sticking to morals, four point eight because you're good with magic and trying to figure out immortality with it. Then, token point for being alive. And the - remaining four point six is - um. Complicated."

"I'm - surprised it's that high, then."

"Maybe I'm just misunderstanding again, but you don't seem to want to go into it."

"It's complicated. I'm - I don't think I want to get into it right now, no. Sorry."

"It's okay. You didn't have to tell me anything at all in the first place."

He smiles a bit. "Thanks. I - hope it helped?"

"Some. Yes. Thank you. It turns out when I'm presented with several alternate universe versions of myself we become sort of competitive."

Edarial snorts a little. "Apparently when I'm presented with several alternate universe versions of myself, we do math about our heads a lot."

"Do you not do that anyway?"

"Not - quite this much, it's more of a background thing, not really for - figuring out how my own head works. Except when I can compare my math to my alt's math and discover what's different and what that means about my relationship with people."

"Did you find anything else interesting or was it all Bells and homicide?"

"Max seems to have the best relationship with his sister than either I or Cypress do with our respective twins."

"Huh. Any idea why?"

"I think it's because she helped save Phix, and because nothing she wants opposes Max's goals."

"Is Prime massively losing this one?"

"He hasn't handed over his math yet, but - we're pretty sure, yeah."

"Why's that, or shouldn't non-Adarins hear about it?"

"It's - mostly how he acted when asked to go get her. The evasion. That - isn't something I would do unless I were sure my brother was furious with me. Therefore..."

"Oh, so this isn't something he's told you at all - I was thinking he'd mentioned but didn't produce numbers about it."

"Yeah, it was - purely observation. So maybe we're wrong."

"I'm fine. Just thinking about - having alts."

"Anything you'd - feel comfortable talking about, or should I leave you be?"

"I don't know if you'd like me to talk about it, which isn't really the same thing as being uncomfortable but might as well yield the same results."

"What's the subject?"

"Alts," she repeats. "And how they come in pairs."

"Yes. Before we met Phix and Max it was just a coincidence, more or less. And now it looks less like one."

"That it does. It sort of makes me want to go throw my father into a slightly more terrible dungeon, but I'm resisting that urge."

"Doing that would require you to interact with him again," she points out wryly.

"Yes, yes it would. And I never want to have to put up with that - person. I'll go with person. I never want to have to put up with that person again."

"I don't blame you."

"Thanks. But - we're... A bit off topic. Aren't we."

"A bit." Her hand clenches in her lap. "They're - so happy."

"Yes. I don't suppose we can just pretend you found a time machine and start over?"

"I - wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Me, either."

She lets him, unclenching it as he collects it. She almost says something, but then changes her mind.

"If you'd walked into my shop and held my hand without saying hello first I daresay I would have been puzzled," she remarks.

Edarial snickers. "I - would not have gone with that, as a starter."

"In the scenario where you were acting on instructions from your future self or the one where you have suddenly contrived a need for a spellbook?"

"Both. The - contrived need for a spellbook I would have acted utterly ordinary. The instructions from my future self, less so."

"I think I would have recognized you if you'd walked in. Because you were a prince and it is generally wise to know what the future ruler of one's country looks like. It would have been very unexpected."

"I'll bet," he snorts. "What would you have done if the crown prince walked in asking for a spellbook?"

"Sold it to you. Maybe if I had politics on my mind I'd have asked how you were planning to do some particular thing, if there seemed to be a rapport, but I didn't like to overdo customer interaction, I never liked it when I was held up making small talk while buying jam and bread and sardines."

"Aha. So it might have been required for me to ask for help on, say, a project for a certain fountain."

"I would have been fascinated by the fountain. I'd probably have given you the spellbook for free just to look at what you had on it."

"If you'd offered to help with it I would have let you."

"And you've seen what I'd do with it - although if I'd gotten at the chart in an earlier stage of development I might have been more useful."

"You were still useful at the final stage," defends Edarial.

"I didn't say I wasn't, but I could have contributed more if there had been more left to do."

"Fair. I'm sorry, next time I remake a lost hex, I will enlist your help."

"I'd love to see them both."

Edarial nods, grinning and looking over the huge teleportation spellchart. "Maybe we'll find something that offers extra working memory. If that happens, don't be alarmed when I start cackling maniacally."

"I will be too busy cackling myself to have any attention to spare for alarm," she assures him.

Iobel looks to see what he's aiming at. "Oh? How?"

"Well, remember the part of the fountain chart that was worded similarly? I managed to condense a branch by specifying the later part first."

"Oh, I see -" Iobel starts drawing arrows and annotations on the chart.

"Which bit?"

"This one, right here," says Edarial, pointing. "It's inspired."

"I was very proud of it. I was sure the contingency about passengers would take up square feet of chart by itself, and I literally woke up one morning, sat bolt upright, and wrote that down."

"I wish my wake ups were like that, I'm worthless at spell charts in the morning."

"You do seem to take a while to start up each day."

"Yeah. It's terrible."

"This over here," she says, pointing, "is my other favorite part."

".... Oooo. I can see why."

"You're brilliant, has anyone mentioned?"

"It's always nice to hear."

"These marks here signify branches I can omit to shrink the spell, in the likely event that I can't make the whole thing fit," she says, pointing at an example. "I really hope we find an alt with good memory improving magic, it would be so useful for cheating at spellbinding. We could do anything, and then it wouldn't matter so much that we could only do it six times a day."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Immortality that works on several people at once. Mass resurrections. Something like Cypress's portals - that reminds me, I started working on that. Do you want to see, after I'm done being impressed with your wonderful spell chart?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we'd better not both cast hexes in the same day when there are would-be voters around," suggests Iobel.

"Yeah. Though - one of us could get concussed again and - well." He sighs.

"Maybe we should see if we can get our alts to escort us when we do things like that, then."

"I didn't get a chance to write notes on it until much later, so I don't have - a verbatim transcript, but I can tell you some things."

"Sure. Uh - I heard I was fun? How so?"

"You were a lot less guarded. You made jokes and didn't seem like you were walking on eggshells. I'm not sure how much of that was your apparent expectation that you were going to die or that I should have let you."

"... A jovial nihilist. Charming. I'm - sorry you had to put up with that."

"The nihilism per se wasn't so much a problem as the - I didn't like that you seemed to think I might agree with you if you suggested I let you die."

"You're welcome. I - I think sometimes you've seemed to think I'm fishing for compliments that I haven't earned or something, but a decent fraction of the things I'd like to have recognized about me include such glowing personality recommendations as not literally malicious enough to want an innocent person to die."

"I don't think you intellectually believe it, but."

"You're worried that I - subconsciously think you're - that malicious?"

"I -... Maybe? The second one, I - think."

"Yeah. While you were concussed Berathyme ran interference when I thought of something I wasn't sure I should say - she said it boiled down to you being paranoid."

"I don't know what to do about that. I don't know how to even make progress."

"You're making progress anyway," he points out, quietly.

"I'm not very patient," she says wryly.

"I've thought about it," she says softly. "I'm still here. But - I wish it didn't take so long."

"Sorry."

"Would you rather not bother? It wouldn't even have to be going to Chamomile, now, to be flaunted at and to acquire a daemon. I imagine Spring could find a use for me."

"I - I'd like to try."

"Then I'll wait."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Should I be doing anything besides waiting of which I am unaware? I have - no idea what it might be like to live behind a wall of paranoia sufficient to stay standing in the face of our alts and - everything."

"I - think you're mostly past the wall of paranoia." Pause. "I did realize that I'd kill someone to defend you. So."

"For us to - be couply?"

"To be happy like they are, I guess."

"I - don't know."

"Me either. I'd suggest asking them, but - I don't think Phix and Max would be much more help than Ice and Cypress were."

"Probably not. They're at least less - flaunty."

"I wonder why. More recent parental supervision, maybe."

Edarial snorts. "Maybe. We can always ask."

"Ask them why they aren't flaunty? They might not know."

"Good point. I wish there was a - comprehensive guide."

"To Bells and Adarins and how we work?"

"Yes, and a nice little - 'If this happens, do this' guide. How to unscrew up a relationship."

"We'll have to write one, I guess. For the future additions to the peal of Bells and the - lack of a convenient collective noun of Adarins."

"We should try to think of one. A nice convenient noun for - the male member of the duo that wants to change the world in a logical and reasonable fashion."

"Zevros comes in female. Several times over. We don't know if our own templates are unisex. We aren't all the same coloration or species, we know that."

"... True. That - would be weird. Seeing myself as a woman."

"And vice-versa for me, but we can't rule it out, can we?"

"I suppose not. I think I'll just be confused meeting a female version of me. And then we'll compare our math and see if things are accurate and move on, I suppose."

"I wonder if different-gender versions of templates sound the same to the Pantheon gods. Maybe Zevros should go talk to one and check."

"He should. If he ever stops pouting about his alts all being women."

"There would be other clues, I suppose, even without divine confirmation. But the divine confirmation is a nice clincher."

"Yeah. When we're not - perfect carbon copies of each other, anyway."

"It's funny, Prime and Cypress don't act unusually similar compared to you with either of them - Max I haven't seen enough of to know, I guess - but they have more ostensibly in common, history-wise."

"I think it's got something to do with the time difference between them. Or he's - mysteriously got Cypress's name and is not our alt, we haven't exactly checked yet."

"I thought Rae checked. I guess I was just assuming."

"We're pretty sure he's one of us, just - with five hundred years tacked on. But occasionally I worry I'll be that bitter and standoffish, so I try to distance myself from him a bit."

"The irony has not escaped me, I am aware."

Iobel giggles.

"I mean, the - constant sarcasm is hilarious, narcissistic as that sounds, but the lack of filter for it... Somewhat concerning."

"I suppose Spring's not nearly as old as Prime, but I find her - reassuring about how I'll develop over time."

"I look forward to my future days as a sarcastic, bitter old man," says Edarial, dryly.

"Maybe it doesn't count if you don't age normally."

"Maybe. Then I'll be a sarcastic and bitter young man."

"Is being sarcastic and bitter that much fun?"

"The sarcasm is, the bitterness I have less experience with but I will guess it's a 'no.'"

"Suppose there's any way to alleviate the oncoming bitterness, then?"

"Then I could be the anti-Prime. That might be fun."

When he's recovered enough to actually manage spoken language, he snickers, "That - if I ever become the anti-Prime, I might change my nickname to that. Confuse everyone's mail."

"I - have no idea. I wonder what they're all like."

"Like us. I guess. In the basics. With different - contexts. I wonder in the long run what fraction come in pairs."

"I do, too. I - suppose we'll find out?"

"I suppose so. So far we haven't found any of either of us who are romancing anyone other than their opposite number - Spring was more or less single her entire life, first time around, Prime doesn't seem to have anyone at home."

"If he does, he certainly doesn't act like it."

"Yeah, I don't think he does."

"Might explain the bitterness."

"Five hundred years of singleness? Maybe. Though if it were that much of a problem for him - I don't know, I'd expect him to have addressed it somehow. By acting more interested in Spring, maybe, even if nobody from his world suited him."

"I'd - have to have an extended conversation with him, to learn all of the details. But I don't think he likes the idea of flinging himself at anyone in particular."

"He's not quite as swayed by how happy they are, I take it."

"This is guesswork, but - I think it's the principle of the matter."

"How so?"

"... That... Okay, he wasn't in a coma for the five hundred years. He was doing stuff and accomplishing important things and changing the world, and honestly as of right now, his New Kystle is the best of all of the planes. Even Chamomile. So he's - not only is he so vastly different from the rest of us, but he's validated by all that he's done? I think?"

"And this means - what about the principle of looking for people to romance?"

"That he's obviously gotten along just fine without, so he doesn't need to look for people to romance. Which may or may not be true. This is - just guesswork, I don't actually know what's going on in his head, just - what I would be doing if I were in his situation."

"That doesn't explain how he got to be the various intervening ages between say Max's and his own without ever getting anywhere."

"I - don't know," sighs Edarial. "For all I know he might have a string of ex-girlfriends. I did give the caveat that it's guesswork."

"Right, sorry."

"It's all right. We can always find him and ask him."

"You don't think he'd find the question too personal?"

"Oh, he probably would find it incredibly personal. But you seem extremely curious about it."

"More or less only insofar as I want the space around the general territory mapped. I don't want to intrude on Prime, specifically, I want to - figure out Adarins, generally."

"Aha. Then - Cypress or Max are probably fine with answering all the questions you like. I am, too, but I thought that was obvious."

"... You can ask me questions, I'll try to answer them?" says Edarial, quietly.

"And sometimes you don't know the answers, or not ones I can use to do anything."

"I - can't actually help with that. Sorry."

"It's -" She doesn't finish the sentence, just sighs again and shakes her head.

"I'm trying."

"I know. And I'd be doing more to - help, meet you halfway, something - if I knew what. I'm so fucking jealous of Ice and Phix -" She shakes her head again.

Edarial laughs a little. "I'm incredibly jealous of Cypress and Max. Less so of Max, but Cypress is just - flaunting, all the time. With his fancy magic and his perfect relationship and no actual personality traits to complain about without sounding hypocritical."

"Yes. That. Look at me, I'm Ice, I can resurrect the dead and my husband looks at me like I'm a deity and I get to snuggle his soul when I'm not cornering the economy of my entire planet or commanding my robot army."

"... Do you want a hug?"

"Well, great," she mumbles into his shoulder, "that's simple then."

"I don't think I'm a perfectionist in the same way, I just like having time to do other things, now and then. Psychological health maintenance."

"I do - something similar. Though a deadline's not always required, sometimes it happens when I'm excited about something. I've asked Berathyme to mind me if I ever - ignore everything not necessary. She does it reasonably well."

"Cricket will remind me to eat - well, he'll remind me to feed him, and that reminds me to eat."

Edarial snorts. "Berathyme prefers to - hunt. It's actually kind of horrifying."

"Cricket chases mice, if he finds them. He doesn't like the taste, though."

"Taste isn't as much of an issue with Berathyme, I think she just likes being a thing that hunts."

"The way familiars are people and their kinds of animal at the same time is very strange."

"Very, very strange. I wonder if the soul animals are similar?"

"They seemed to make noises like animals sometimes, but somehow I can't picture Pathalan swooping down on a mouse."

"Neither can I. It seems - beneath them. Or something?"

"Outside their scope, anyway. Their job is the lofty social interference-running and emotional labor. Also I think Ice mentioned that they don't eat, anyway."

Edarial nods. "That - is strange, but the concept of soul animals in general is strange, so. Them not needing to eat is less strange because of that. I think."

"Yes, it's much less peculiar to find that soul animals don't eat than it would be to find that, on Chamomile, cows or something do not eat."

"The cows? Yes. And then I would want to import a lot of these magical non-eating cows. We could export beef. It'd be fantastic."

"Absolutely wonderful," he agrees, amused. "We should ask the mages to look for non-eating cows."

"A complete complement of magical non-eating livestock. We will lead the world in the production of cheese and goosedown and bacon."

"We'll take over the economy with them."

"Future Bells can be jealous of me and my fancy magic menagerie."

"But they won't be upset with us at all because we won't be flaunty, even if I wind up looking at you like you're a deity by that point."

"Does looking at me like I'm a deity not count as flaunting?"

"Not if I carefully manage the way I'm looking at you so I'm not doing it in front of whoever would be upset by it."

"How romantic," says Iobel dryly.

Snuggle. Almost like when they fell asleep on each other on the boat back home after the building collapse.

"Cozy," agrees Iobel.

"Very. Though the - standing is annoying, should we - sit down, or something?"

Iobel glances around her room. She doesn't have a sofa, but she has a bed, and it is sittable-on. There she goes. And sits on it.

Edarial does the same, and - shyly holds out his arms for more hugs.

Iobel tucks herself into his embrace and puts her head back on his shoulder.

And Edarial goes back to holding her and petting her hair.

"Well that is what they get for spying on us. Their own fault."

"That makes perfect sense."

"I try."

Cricket has woken up and is peering at them silently from under Iobel's desk.

So horrific. Eeeeeee.

Edarial smiles a bit. At the horror. Eeeeee!