An Epistle Conveyed by Airship

An Epistle Conveyed by Airship

7th day of January 1872

My Esteemed Mr. Ambrose,

May this missive find you in robust health and high spirits.

Acknowledging your eminence as a prodigious savant of the mechanistic arts, adorned with intellect, a cogent psyche, and a countenance befitting a gentleman, it is apropos for me to forewarn you of my decision to set our contraption into motion.

Pray, do not construe this communiqué as a provocation to intercede in my endeavor. I beseech you with heartfelt sincerity to refrain from your curious, inquisitive inclinations, Bazel, and instead, luxuriate in the warm embrace of your family in London.

With Utmost Fondness and Esteem, I Remain,

Sir Gideon Prescott

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

10th Day of January 1872

Dearest Sir Prescott,

So moved to receive your epistolary, I hastened to escape my engagements and orchestrated a dirigible to Amsterdam to deter your audacious contrivance. Alas, my arrival at your estates was tardy, and the temporal engine's chronometer indicated coordinates aligning with the era of Rome, 48 B.C.

Sir, vexation swells, and I must admit I harbor a turbulent tempest. With unwavering conviction, I must caution you against trifling with the tides of history for such interference is indeed a treacherous endeavor.

When we embarked together on creating this monstrosity, we promised to be of one mind about its use; it disappoints to see your flagrant disregard of the Royal Academy’s Temporal Principles. Whatever motives take you to Caesar's domain remain veiled to me, but, sir, respectfully, I cannot permit your contradicting history.

Thus, herein I declare my intention to stop you. In the off-chance you should return, I shall leave this journal so we may negotiate with the decorum befitting our stations, and ultimately bring these matters to their rightful terminus without prejudice.

Sir, upon your possible return to these chambers: you must restrain from rekindling this infernal machine! I urge you to wait for me.

Wishing You Adieu with Sincerest Regards,

Bazel Ambrose

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

21st Day of April 1872

Dear, Respected Mr. Ambrose,

My hands tremble; a cough succumbs me. I’ve fallen severely ill, and I’ve returned to our present moment to seek more modern elixirs to aid me.

Surprised to encounter your journal perched on a podium near the controls of our machine, Bazel, I’m forced to admire your pluck, but, regardless, you were too late.

With a prideful heart, I must divulge my triumph amidst the labyrinthine avenues of Rome. At my hands, the plot to sever the thread of Caesar's fate in the Senate has been artfully obstructed. Departing, I left behind a tapestry of transformation, woven to redirect history away from the clutches of time’s relentless current, undoubtedly thwarting the Empire's collapse in 476 A.D.

Coincidentally, sir, have you noted the passage of time remains constant in our absence? An extraordinary outcome. Please know that my report to The Temporal Academy shall respectfully append your name to highlight your role in such a monumental discovery.

Undaunted, after requiring a week of recovery in my private chambers, I stand upon the precipice of another temporal jaunt and shall soon depart for the Battle of Tours in 732 A.D. There, I shall bestow upon the Umayyad Caliphate the gift of foresight, arming them with pivotal knowledge to undo Charles Martel and his valiant Franks. Christianity, its tyranny, and the proverbial ‘dark ages,’ shall forever be undone.

You cannot stop me, and I beg you, sir, not to try.

In Anticipation of Your Gentlemanly Forfeit,

Sir Gideon Prescott

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

6th Day of July 1872

To My Esteemed, Brilliant Colleague, Sir Prescott:

I implore you, sir - you must cease these entanglements!

I returned to witness your enigmatic presence once more gracing these chambers. Yet, in your wake, the very tapestry of our society has been unwound! The very stitches of normalcy severed!

Rome's survival unfurled an alternate reality for should you look beyond your window, naught remains but the Roman Emperor's imposing visage, and all vestiges of Her Majesty's court have been obliterated in the aether.

Strangely, I have denoted our dangerous escapades have created a static temporal field surrounding your estates, maintaining the machine and the agency of our chase. Is it providence, sir, or simply good fortune, that we remain unaffected by these changes?

Either way, bound by the weight of ethical cogitation, I am compelled to disentangle your schemes. To Rome I voyage afresh, to undo your deeds, and, if exigency demands, allow my hand to snip the thread of Caesar's life to restore equilibrium to the cosmos.

Do not interpret my intercedence as a mere flutter, for should destiny weave our paths anew, be warned: I am armed.

With Resilient Adherence to Temporal Principles,

Bazel Ambrose

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

18th Day of July 1872

Curse you, Mr. Ambrose!

Picture my vehement astonishment upon my return only to witness my machinations unraveled - England reinstated, Queen Victoria ensconced upon her imperial throne, the Temporal Academy still practicing their unjust influence.

Through the auspices of your own admission, I can only presume your voyage to Rome met with success, and my efforts foiled.

Sir, while once I might have regarded you as a compatriot, an intellect deserving of my collaborative discourse, I now perceive you as naught but an intrusion, a trespasser, a vexatious disturbance. Henceforth, let it be known that you and I are hereby sworn adversaries, locked in the embrace of enmity.

Verily, the tendrils of Rome's influence remain beset by constraint and failure. My endeavor to sway Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi's convictions fell upon unreceptive ears, and, imprisoned for weeks, I made a harrowing retreat from France with naught but my vitality intact. Still, these setbacks do not perturb me. Instead, I embark upon the next stage of my ambitions, which will unfold without your awareness of my strategems, calculations, or achievements.

With a Fusion of Respect and Animosity,

Sir Gideon Prescott

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

3rd Day of August 1872

Errant Criminal Prescott:

Well, I am sorry to inform you, sir, your crossbow bolt missed, and I’ve destroyed the contraption. 

Ah, the lamentable ineptitude you always exhibited upon the intricate tableau of chess, sir, mirrors your broader shortcomings.

My intellectual pursuit culminated within Rome. There, did I spy on you from its streets; unable to restrain your own curiosity, you traveled to Alexandria, and unbeknownst to your person, I poisoned you in the library, explaining your sour humors in April. Suffer well.

In the meantime, I’ve navigated the convoluted passages of time, returning to the very inner sanctum of your arcane laboratory, where your path had led you.

This time, I did naught but deftly reposition my bishop piece on the grand chessboard of our temporal gambit. With a maneuver orchestrated earlier than your ill-fated Turkish excursion, I deflected Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi's confidence in your guidance, intercepting your fruit before they ripened.

Behold, Prescott, the celestial game in which we preoccupy ourselves, chess masters in an elaborate phantasmagoria of madness!

As you peer through your observatory portal, witness the unfolding apocalypse, a reality unspooling outside your very home.

Anglo-Saxon heritage, once solid as riveted iron, lies obliterated from the annals of time. Instead, a tapestry of Germanic dominion drapes the globe's canvas - the British Empire has given way to roaming, nomadic tribes!

Yet, as exasperation intertwines with enlightenment, I seize upon your myopic judgments, employing them as fuel to stoke the blazing furnace of my resolve. As we are both dependent upon this infernal machinery to counter the other, its mechanisms are poised in a frenetic race to thwart your contrivances.

Gleaming blades set to cleave, let us, in a spiteful symphony of antagonism, rendezvous upon the shores of Hastings. There, the clash of our ambitions shall reverberate, and to the vanquisher, the triumphant spoils shall be awarded.

With Spiteful Scorn and Bristling Determination,

Bazel Ambrose

* * *

A Note Hand-Delivered to Hastings Castle, Sussex, England

14th Day of October 1066

My Esteemed Temporal Adversary,

Oh, how the gears of fate continue to whirl in my favor, Prescott!

If my courier has performed their function, I dare say it’s the 14th, the Battle of Hastings, and perchance amidst the secure embrace of your castellated refuge, indulge in a momentary respite to cast your gaze upon Senlac Hill. There, dear William and his Norman army deflect the Saxon reinforcements you advised King Harold II to redistribute.

Ah, the substance of my intervention, the orchestration of foresight and stratagem once again eludes your feeble grasp, and history, sir, is preserved!

Come to your senses, man! Allow us to cease this temporal war! Take not to the machine again. Stay within your chambers. Allow us to politely discuss these matters over a good brandy.

Otherwise, sir, eagerly do I anticipate our inevitable convergence, when the crosshairs of my Webley Revolver align with your trembling presence, a confrontation that beckons not just the steel of firearms but the steel of our convictions.

With Spiteful Anticipation,

Bazel Ambrose

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

4th Day of August 1872

Ambrose! Your interference has cut me to the quick!

Incapable of tolerating any more of your meddling, I shall ensnare you within a trap of my own devising, a trap to shackle your departure and at long last, to unmask the final act of this temporal battle between our two selves.

I will cry havoc and allow Mankind to unravel for, in this chaotic whirlwind, I’ll consign you to oblivion with the fervor of a tempest, even if it consumes my last breath.

Fly to Egypt, the Great Pyramid - find me, if you dare!

Fueled by Hate and Unyielding Zeal,

Sir Gideon Prescott

* * *

Our Chronicle of Peculiar Notations

5th Day of August 1872

My Accursed Companion,

In the shrouded realms, be apprised that your nefarious plan within of the Great Pyramid was but an ephemeral triumph. Bereft of my awareness, I emerged, unscathed from your devious snare.

Your malicious orchestration shattered the radioactive heart of my pocket watch. With resolve aflame and enduring sacrifice, the grains of Egyptian sand for 27 long-passing years. Therein, I toiled, crafting an intricate facsimile of our arcane creation, a contraption to pierce the veils of time anew.

I must observe that - my new contraption, decoupled from our machine - offers an untethered relationship to time. I travel unhinged from the time experienced here. Perhaps it is due to my own pocketwatch originating from the past?

Oh, the fevered visions that plague my thoughts, the dystopian tapestry woven by your malevolent hand! Reluctantly, I shift the gaze, expecting naught but a world contorted in the image of your ambition.

With a heart resolute and fervent fervor, I stride forth on this pilgrimage to rectify the wrongs you've woven, tracing the very genesis of our acquaintance back to school, Temporal Mechanics. There this sordid saga shall find its climax, and your transgressions shall meet their denouement.

Perhaps, if not kill you outright, I might convince you otherwise.

In Finally Parting with Resolute Resolve,

Bazel Ambrose

* * *

An Epistle Conveyed by Airship

7th day of January 1872

My Esteemed Mr. Ambrose,

May this missive find you in robust health and high spirits.

Acknowledging your eminence as a prodigious savant of the mechanistic arts, adorned with intellect, a cogent psyche, and a countenance befitting a gentleman, I invite you to set our contraption into motion.

Together, we will unlock the time’s greatest mysteries, respecting the laws laid before us by the Temporal Academy.

I know that my invitation will tear you away from your London home and precious time with your family, but I beseech you: come at all haste to Amsterdam, so we might unlock these secrets together.

With Utmost Fondness and Esteem, I Remain,

Sir Gideon Prescott