Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?

Karasuman said:

Okay, that filler update was beyond awesome. Here's to hoping for a Starcraft 2 release in 2012 at the earliest. ... DX

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XD haha i really do hope it comes out next year . Speaking of late ... working on the update now ! But it's taking a while ! Got to think about the future for this particular one XD

December 25, 1582

“Ecce Agnus Dei, ecce qui tollit peccatum mundi…”

Alvaro, kneeling reverently, worded the reply to those words with tensed breathing. Three times the exchange went as the Blessed Sacrament was now almost ready for distribution. Christmas time meant the remembrance of the coming of Christ and it could not have been more appropriate that Cardinal DeWitt was passing by to fill the role of their deceased pastor. He was finally able to see the Lord again present in front of him.

It had only been a few months since his First Communion and already the joy of being together with his God made him jittery every time he was able to receive the Sacrament. For most of the village, it was not a big surprise; the de Guzmans had a long standing tradition of spirituality in their home and it was only natural that Alvaro’s father had gone to seek out the true intentions behind the death of their parish priest.

Kneeling to receive the Blessed Sacrament, little else filled the mind of Alvaro. In this moment it was heaven on earth for the young boy. Even the consternation over his father melted away in the presence of Corpus Christi. Prickling against his tongue like a golden nugget, he received the Lord with almost exaggerated ecstasy. It would give him strength, he thought. The next few hours would be a wild affair especially for someone his age. But he had trust that his new friend would be able to fulfill his promise. The Cardinal would protect the village just as he, the young but brave Alvaro, would fulfill his mission.

Christmas Mass saw a revitalization of the core of the community. Cardinal DeWitt could see this plainly as he dismissed the populace. Although the chapel had been a small village affair—not much different from his old charge in Germany—it had been filled to the very back with the townsfolk. It had been days since their priest celebrated the Liturgy and they had been granted this oasis on the feast of their Savior’s birth. Such a thing was no small miracle.

Walking in procession down the center aisle, he could hear some of the people at the very back of the small house of worship whispering to themselves; something outside was disturbing them. Stepping into the dim light of the cloudy Christmas noon, the Cardinal was greeted by horsemen and men at arms arrayed in a crescent in front of the building. The memory of such an appearance seemed to suddenly tick into his mind like a sparked lamp.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me, Cardinal,” the man at their lead announced albeit a bit quietly.

Taking a moment to regard the force set against him, Cardinal DeWitt turned around and motioned for the parishioners to file out. Like some redirected river, the townsfolk streamed out of the church to the right and to the left of their celebrant and quitted the area. Between the top of the church stairs and the muddy plaza street in front was a no man’s land. When all of the villagers had gone, the Cardinal addressed the soldiers in front of him.

“On whose authority do you pretend to come and arrest me, constable?” the Cardinal asked as he descended the steps. His crosier stuck deeply in the wet mud. The darkened view of the cloudy shadow added to the December chill.

“By the authority of the mayor you are to be taken into custody on suspicion of high treason against the sta—”

“You can forego the pretenses, constable,” the Cardinal interrupted. “We both know why you are here and if you’re worried about the villagers I’ve already told them about your strange cult.”

The soldiers exchanged glances but the constable at their lead stepped forward angrily. “Our master has wished it that you are not to be harmed, but if you should resist then we will be obligated to use deadly force against you.”

The Cardinal seemed to ignore the statement as he glanced at the collection of men before saying, “Only twenty five of you? I had to fight twice as many when Zio came for me!”

The constable, at the end of his patience, signaled for his men to accost the Cardinal. The horsemen were the first to react. Cutting off the prelate’s escape to his rear, two of them drew their swords and galloped to the back end of His Eminence. The foot soldiers approached from the front.

“There is no escape; come with us quietly and no one gets hurt.”

Maybe it was a raindrop that came down and pattered against the Cardinal’s brow or one might say that his eyelid twitched. Either way, the first two men who attempted to grab onto the prelate’s arms now found their faces smashed together. Two of the next three were flown back into their advancing friends while the third was struck in the head so hard that he fell like a rock and joined his other fallen comrades with a face full of mud.

The constable, having only been briefly informed of the tenacity of his opponent seemed to lose his breath as he watched this clergyman lift one of the horses behind him and send it flying into the advancing men at arms. Although phased, he quickly shook his head and steadied his stance.

“Crossbows!” he called out. The men around Cardinal DeWitt stopped their approach as a dozen or so men appeared on the rooftops of the surrounding plaza buildings. A flurry of arrows was let loose.

Raising his arm to shield his face, the arrows stuck through the clothes of the Cardinal like needles on a cushion. Staggering slightly, twelve of the sharp objects now dotted the landscape of the joyous liturgical vestments. Watching in awe at the ability of the man to continue to stand, the soldiers barely expected His Eminence to begin laughing!

“Impossible!” screamed the constable. “You should be dead!”

“I should have been dead a long time ago,” the Cardinal responded back cutting his laughter short. Grabbing hold of the various objects sticking into him, he violently ripped them away tearing much of his clothing with it. “I may be old, gentlemen,” he added, “But that does not mean that I will not fight for life.”

As the vestments tore away with the arrows, the men noticed a crimson colour being revealed underneath. No, it was not blood!

“His red armour suit!” someone shouted from the rear as all the men stepped back at the sight of the legendary terror.

“Steady!” the constable rallied as he advanced to the front of his guard. “You are being fooled!” he told his men to steady them. “It’s impossible for him to have gotten his arm—”

That’s when the view of the plate held the sound in the constable’s breath. All the other soldiers saw it too. Although it was painted a bright red there was no mistaking it; the Cardinal was wearing Zio’s armour.


Madame de Guzman, having just left the congregation at the middle of town, held the cowl over her face with a shuddering caution. Even more so, she cradled the bundle tied to her waist like she would her own child. The horse underneath her was edged on towards the end of town with a kind of restraint. Just a bit more slowly lest someone should notice…

“Halt!” someone yelled out behind her. Stunned on her saddle, Madame de Guzman could feel a metallic feeling on her tongue.

“I said halt!” the voice yelled out again as loud footfalls were now heard rushing behind her.

She had no choice; tapping on the sides of her steed with her boots; she spurred the horse forward as fast as she could. She could make it so long as she was on her horse and the footmen were without the ability to chase—a hard ride to Madrid and she would be there by the evening, she thought.

An advantage of such a small village was that there were no elaborate gates that would bar an exit. The archway of the town now approached rapidly in her sights as she could hear the commands from behind her to stop. She would not heed them; she must get to the capital—.

“That’s far enough Madame de Guzman!” someone called out from in front of her. Two horsemen appeared so suddenly that Madame’s horse rose terribly into the air at the surprise and knocked his rider onto the muddied trail.

The horse’s fear was not unjustified for aside from the mayor on horseback barring the exit to town, there was also another figure next to him. A tall man, this other figure was cloaked in a tattered navy blue cloth while his shoulders were adorned with an off-gold metal. His chest piece was studded with this same un-gold like material that formed skeletal ridges against his body. Lastly, like some strange beetle’s head, the man’s helmet curved scimitar like pincers on either side—a demonic figure, Madame thought as she attempted to pick herself up.

“Bring to me what she is carrying!” the mayor commanded as the guards nearly tackled her. She screamed violently as the pouched object was ripped away from her and handed over to the mayor.

“Open it,” was the chilling voice from the strangely armoured man.

Obeying diligently, the Mayor unfurled the cloth. Barely being able to look at its pale uncouth surface for a second, the object was swiped away from the mayor’s hand and smashed against the ground.

“It is a fake!” growled the mayor’s companion before turning back to the woman. “Tell us where the real Timepiece is!”

“I don’t know!” Madame de Guzman cried out as she struggled against the guards. “He only told me to do this and that he would take care of the rest!”

A wheezing breath exited the incensed stranger as he stared with decaying eyes at the treachery. “You lie,” he curled with his tongue. “But no matter… Take her to the square. We shall ask the Cardinal himself where he put it…”


The sound of sword against metal permeated the plaza and the force of twenty five was now cut down to thirteen. An exhausted prelate continued to engage his relentless enemies hoping to buy just a little bit more time. When he heard the sound of horseshoe against mud approaching, he nearly groaned from the prospect of enemy reinforcements making his job just a little bit harder, but it was a greater coup that suffered him to stop his assault.

“Tell us where the Timepiece is or I will raze this village to the foundations!” a man demanded. With him was the mayor with Madame de Guzman and two soldiers in tow.

Taking a quick glance to his former hostess, he watched as all she could do was shake her head in dismay to the attempted escape. Turning back to the stranger, all fighting seemed to cease in his presence.

“Let me guess, you’re one of the Councilmen,” the Cardinal said while catching his breath.

“Astute,” the man replied simply.

“Astute? Not really,” quipped the Cardinal, “you’re the most ridiculous looking one here so I figured you’ve got to be another one of Zio’s peers. What do they call you?”

“Le Cheik,” the man replied in French obviously unphased by the Cardinal’s jokes. “Raypard Le Cheik.”

“La shiec? Lassic?” the Cardinal responded in Spanish intentionally butchering the foreign tongue. “The sheikh, huh? I would have thought with names like Zio’s I’d be calling you Auntie.”

“The Timepiece, Your Eminence!” Le Cheik reminded him. The seriousness of the conversation was punctuated by the man’s finger pointing towards the mother struggling against the soldiers.

The Cardinal relaxed himself slightly looked around him at the plaza. The moment had come and he gave a sweeping nod. “I’m afraid that petty threats won’t go unpunished here, Mr. Cheik.”

Doorways began to open and torches and pitchforks—the staple of a communal uprising—began to issue from the surrounding doorways. Dozens of citizens began filling the square. The soldiers quickly turned to see the incoming mob and drew their weapons.

“Steady on, men!” the constable called out to his squad before addressing the crowd. “Go back to your homes, citizens! The arrest of this fugitive does not concern you!”

“Is this all you were able to muster?” Le Cheik broke out in a low chuckle, “a petty brawler’s mob? They are no match for my trained soldiers, Cardinal.”

“No, they aren’t,” the Cardinal admitted, “but they will eventually take down every last man. That would be a high price to pay considering I’m not telling you where I’ve hidden the Timepiece.”

The Cardinal stared defiantly into the eyes of that helmeted opponent. For a moment he thought he saw the same crimson menace that Zio once had in the oculars of this older individual.

“As much as I am impressed by the valour of this town, I also know that you are not a man who shrugs off the killing of innocent people,” Le Cheik said curtly with a signal to his subordinates, “Prepare to kill everyone last one of them!”

“Wait!” Cardinal DeWitt called out. “You can’t possibly hope to get the Timepiece now even if you kill all of us here. I propose that we both get part of what we want.”

Le Cheik wrinkled his nose repugnantly but approached the Cardinal on horseback. “And what do you propose?”

“In exchange for leaving this town alone, I will surrender myself as your prisoner.”

There was a sudden uproar in the crowd and Madame de Guzman cried out, “you don’t have to do this, Your Eminence!”

She was met with a correcting gaze as the Cardinal said, “I promised I’d protect this village, Senora. You can barricade the town and send for help from Madrid after these men leave here if you are worried that they will return. I will fulfill my promise without bloodshed.”

“A noble goal,” Le Cheik commented with a hushed cackle. “Take him. We will settle for the Timepiece another day.”

A hushed silence came upon the villagers as the Cardinal walked reluctantly away with Le Cheik’s men as Madame de Guzman returned to her family and friends. The darkness of the day was a bittersweet acceptance of the joyous liberation of the town on that Christmas day. As Cardinal DeWitt was escorted southward towards the Toledo road, he could faintly hear a seasonal song of celebration sung in the distant square.

“Gaudete Gaudete Christus est natus! Ex Maria Virgine Gaudete!”

Gaudete, indeed, he thought, for although he would be returning to the land of the Missing, at least the Timepiece was now safely on its way to Madrid. Nothing could stop it now, he hoped. As the Cardinal gazed forward to the horse they were to tow him with, he resigned himself to being onto the saddle. Even if he were to die, he thought, there was something greater at work that could not be stopped—not even by all the evil in the world.


Alvaro rode hard albeit awkwardly on that large mount. It had already been an hour and a half since he started out through a secret way that only children such as he would know. Slipping past the authorities seemed like a penchant of the youth. It was not just the largeness of the animal that he now rode which gave him fear of falling to his death, but the hefty charge which he carried securely around him.

The tree up ahead signaled the appropriate milestone. The instructions his mother gave him were to head straight to Madrid while she created a diversion. He even carried with him the signet ring of the Cardinal to pull off this endeavor to return the precious artifact which now clung to his back, but it was not this imperative that drove him to slow down.

Easing the horse into a gentle stop, he approached the tree on the side of the road with care… Where was—.

“Alvaro!” someone called out from the side of the road’s embankment.

“Father!” the boy replied exuberantly nearly tumbling off the horse as he dismounted. “I knew you would come! I read your note and came as soon as possible!”

The boy was greeted with an embrace although it was slightly awkward with the round object wrapped around his chest.

“Do you have it?” the man asked.

“Yes, Father! It was just as you said; I found the man by the road and brought him into the town. I convinced him to let me sneak it out and here it is!” Alvaro proudly explained handing over the wrapped item.

The man took the object and greedily unwrapped it. His gaze met the void-like blackness of the sphere and his breath was nearly taken from him. “Excellent work, my son. And none suspect anything?”

“Not even mother,” Alvaro replied with a smile.


Rodrigo and Hayato were gone from the mansion again and Lara and Carlos were off doing errands. As much as he wished to avoid this craziness that had surrounded his life recently, it was worse just to be left back with nothing to do. Knowing about the implications of the Timepiece as well as its link to his crazed alternate history made Tom wish that he could do something—anything. Perhaps that was why he was reviewing the interview recording Rodrigo and Hayato had with the witness.

“I knew him from his publishing work,” Tom heard the voice say on the recorder, “Sometimes I would pitch ideas to him.”

“But he didn’t like any of them?” was Rodrigo’s voice on the recorder.

“No; I always…” here was a little embarrassed laughter, “brought up silly ideas: people with magical powers and all that. He said it wasn’t the kind of thing his historical and scholastic journal was looking for. Although he was always polite about it.”

“What was the last thing you proposed to him?” It was Hayato asking this time.

“Well,” she began softly. Tom could sense her apprehension, “I showed him a story idea I was working on about kids saving the world at Christmas time from—”

“Christmas time?” Tom asked himself as he listened.

“Monsters. Monsters that would come down for the twenty eight days of Advent before Christmas and the kids would have to defeat them all…” she continued on the recording giving out a nervous chuckle. “It was then that he told me politely that he was tired of my fantasies. I told him that this was going to be my final fantasy: Advent Children! But he still said it wouldn’t work out. I guess it just sort of became a joke for me to ask every time…”

Tom fast forwarded—it seemed to him that Rodrigo and Hayato asked a lot of impertinent questions.

“But it was when we were discussing this student’s work that he found the other week,” the recording began again with the young woman talking, “that he was really excited about it. He told me that it coincided so well with his research that he couldn’t believe what he was reading.”

“Research?” Tom asked himself again before listening intently.

“Something about the Guardianship of the keys that he had been digging up these past few years and how the author’s family tree had a break with the suicide of one of the heirs and how they needed to find a way to pass the Guardianship down without the Protestant branch of the family appropriating it.”

There was a sudden thud that inadvertently caused Tom’s finger which rested on top of the buttons to slip the tape into fast forward. It came from outside his room! Rising off his bed and approaching his door, he heard a second noise. The large bump seemed to stop him cold but he realized that even he had left his chamber door unlocked. Caught in between wishing to secure himself and a familiar terror, he stood between the bed and the door in stupid immobility.

The recorder which had been left to speed forward now stopped as it reached the end of the feed and began to play backwards allowing the continuation on side B to be heard.

“If what you’re telling me is true,” the voice began again. It was still the young lady. “Then this Tom needs to wake up to the reality of what he’s written. His universe that he’s constructed with all these different nations and a disunited world is very dangerous…”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Rodrigo was recorded to have said.

“No,” was the almost desperate voice as Tom heard a third thud coming closer to his doorway, “you don’t understand. He must realize that those that are coming for him are not mere men and women. What comes after him is greater than all that and nothing—not even this global empire—can stop it from reaching him.”

Chapter XLIV: Juggernaut (coming soon)

Incognitia: I'm very glad that surprised you ! Was quite surprised myself , actually , but I always did wonder where his dad went !

Judas Maccabeus: ahh yes , the burdens of an ensemble cast .. - stabs JM in the back - har har har ! XD

Karasuman: It was only natural to have Lashiec as the next councilman now that Zio's gone XD XD ANOTHERGATE !!! As for incredibly long katanas ... hmm ....

Karasuman said:

Lashiec carried some destructive attacks, like Another Gate and Thunder Halbert. Wonder if we'll see any of those in future entries involving him <_<

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Anothergate was one of my favourites , I'll have to see if i can fit it in somewhere !

Grubnessul said:

wow... I knew the cardinal was strong... but throwing horses?

great update as always

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LOL , he gets extra strength on holidays like Christmas XD

Lotus-6: LOL yes . maybe i should start having "WHO WILL SURVIVE ?!" at the end of every update too

Grubnessul: ROFL well , a horse weighs about 1200 pounds as I recall . but maybe he just lifted up a very small horse ? XD XD

anonymous4401 said:

I have to say that it is nothing less than a crime that this AAR only has twenty thousand views. I read through the whole thing and if it wasn't the best work this forum has ever produced, I'd be surprised.

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Thank you so much for coming on board and for the flattering comments ! I hope that it will continue to be a great experience for all of us !