Death After Death

“I told the sailors not to untie you lest you…Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise as she turned around and saw him, but even that was muted as she quickly buried it beneath the expression she used for formal occasions and at court. “What’s all this then? If you could have healed yourself at any moment, why not do so after the battle?”

The way she reacted to his miraculous reappearance was not what he’d hoped for. Even anger would have been better than the weariness she greeted him with. He was disappointed that she wasn’t surprised by his reappearance, but he was a little pleased at the astonishment he saw flicker across her face as she took in his current appearance. That, at least, was something.

“It’s not as simple as all that,” he explained, resisting the urge to move to her. Her body language was very clearly telling him to stay the hell away. “I… a lot has happened since I last saw you. An awful lot.”

“It’s been less than eight hours since you shared my bed,” she remarked, smiling sadly as she approached him, and sat on the corner of the bed farthest from him. “How much could have happened in one night?”

“Well, you turned my whole world upside down last night,” Simon reminded her. “When you bundled me off on that ship, I was distraught.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I won’t defend or explain my actions, though. You know exactly why—”

“I do. I’m not asking you to. I’m just explaining things,” he interrupted. “We’ve always been honest with each other, haven't we?”

“We have,” she agreed, “relaxing slightly.”

“What has been 8 hours for you was nearly fifty years for me,” he said, forcing the words out of his mouth, even though part of him suspected that saying them was a terrible mistake. “I’ve lived whole lifetimes, and I’ve spent all that time missing you.”

Simon didn’t explain every last detail. He didn’t tell her how a vampire had killed him or that he’d bitten off his tongue in an insane pact with a crazy cult to unlock more secrets of the universe. Instead, he told her the broad strokes. He told her how he’d died and started over, spent some time studying in some strange places. When he reached his discussion of the Oracle, that piqued her interest.

“I’ve never been,” she confessed, “But I always wanted to. Please, tell me everything you saw.”

It was a tangent from what he wanted to talk about, but it was also the first time she looked at him with wonder instead of dread, so he decided it was a worthwhile one.

He told her about his whole trip, starting at the base of the mountain. He told her about his battles with the beastmen and the strange harpy skeleton he found. He even mentioned how he almost gave up because of the endless clouds before he finally found the tiny utopia. That he described in intimate detail, and between his description of his time with the oracle and her prophecies and the queen’s questions, the two of them were still sitting there when one of the queen’s handmaids arrived and asked where she wanted to have her midday meal.

The woman expressed surprise that Simon was there, as well. “I was told he wouldn’t be—” she started to say, but the queen waved her off.

“It's fine,” Elthena answered. “You may bring lunch here for both of us.”

The maid nodded and left, but even that small interruption disrupted the rapport that they’d been rebuilding.

“What you say is fantastical, of course, but I’m still inclined to believe you,” she said, suddenly cold again. “But you have to realize this changes nothing, don’t you?”

“It changes everything!” he insisted, but she only shook her head sadly at that.

“The prophecy—” she started to answer, but Simon cut her off before she could even get the word out.

“Damn the prophecy!” he raged, making her pull away a bit. “Your nation has a damn Oracle. Why not simply go to her and ask her what you should do. She’ll tell you there’s no such thing.”

“It’s not as simple as you make it out to be,” Elthena sighed.

“Look, I know it's a long way, but I told you about the Hidden Way,” Simon countered, “If I went with you, we could be there and back in less than a week. I’m sure of it.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she shook her head. “It would be selfish of me to use the Oracle like this.”

“Why?” Simon asked, exasperated. He wanted to tell her that she was being incredibly selfish already, but he bit his tongue on that and waited for what he hoped was a better answer.

“Because no person, not even the queen, can visit the Oracle more than once,” she said in a disappointed tone. “What if someday there is a great calamity, and I need to seek out her wisdom, but I’ve already used that boon up on my own romantic prospects. What a terrible ruler I would be then.”

“Calamity?” he asked. “You’ve already dealt with a war and a plague on your own. What terrible fate do you think could befall you, Ionia, that you couldn’t handle?”

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“Well, what if the basilisk—”

“I already killed that monster,” he said, only barely managing not to yell. “Well, it hasn’t happened yet, but it's going to.”

“Simon, you’re not making any sense,” she said, pulling away a little more.

He sighed and calmed himself, and then he tried again. “In a few years, some nameless hero will kill that beast. That will be me. I’ve already done it in a previous life, but it will take place in our future.”

His second attempt met with more confusion than fear, but before he could try to explain things any more clearly, he was interrupted by servants bringing them lunch. That ended their talk for the next half hour as they ate. Simon wasn’t hungry, but he picked at his food until the servants finally came and took it away.

“I will see her,” Elthena said finally when they were alone again. “But you are not coming with me, nor will you stay here in my absence.”

“Why?” Simon asked.

“Why?” she shot back. “Because you are not the same man you were, Simon. Didn’t you see the looks those maids gave you? They can see you’re transformed as well as I. There will be talk of witchcraft throughout the castle before the day is out. My visor will be beside himself!”

“I can fix that,” Simon volunteered. “I could—”

“Please don’t,” she sighed. “Just leave for a time. After I make my trip and return, I will talk about these things further, but for now, I need space to grieve for us.”

Grieving for him while he was standing right in front of her struck him as exceptionally cruel, but he said nothing. He simply hardened his expression, pulled the cloak over his head, and then bowed deeply before he departed.

“By your leave, my Queen,” he said sarcastically, making her frown at him before he turned to leave. “When you have made your decision, I will be tending my forge in Olven’s Narrows.”

Then, just like that, he was gone again, and the further he got from the palace, the angrier he got. He’d expected this to be difficult, but he hadn’t expected to be completely stonewalled like this, and it infuriated him. “Fuck the prophecy,” he grumbled to himself as he made his way back to his room at the inn to collect his things.

Once he’d calmed down, Simon considered following her up the mountain to make sure she stayed safe, but eventually, he decided against it. Not only was she likely to be livid if she found out, but she had an entire army with her.

So, he went back to his little smith, which pleased Niko to no end. “I’m not staying forever,” he assured the boy. “Just until the queen sends for me.”

His former apprentice didn’t believe him, of course, which was exactly why Simon had said it. He didn’t expect anyone to believe him. Here in Olven’s Narrows, he was an outsider but a very familiar one, and there was some comfort in that.

He spent the next few weeks working on various projects. He helped Niko with a few more complicated jobs but mostly just worked more on his rune blade ideas and his art.

Simon’s experiments with changing his appearance had been promising, and he decided he could probably change himself into a very convincing stranger or even replace someone who already existed with a little familiarity and careful observation. In fact, he realized I could probably replace one of the men of her court, even her trusted Vizier, and stay as long as I wanted.

That was something he’d never do, of course. It was creepy as hell, but the idea that such an impossible thing was even an option intrigued him. “I’ve been a scholar and an artisan already,” he mused to himself, “Why not a deep-cover spy.” The truth was that he wasn’t interested in making other plans. He’d put a lot of work into getting back to this moment with Elthena, and he wasn’t leaving until they’d worked things out.

It was just shy of a month before she returned. When she appeared in the village herself, near the head of a parade of soldiers, Simon was not expecting that. Trumpets and bells were the first sign that anything was amiss, and even before she got close, everyone, including Simon, who was filthy and stained with soot, was kneeling.

“You really do know the queen!” Niko hissed excitedly.

Simon smiled to himself but said nothing. He could tell, as soon as he looked at her, that this wasn’t the good news he’d been hoping for. It wasn’t just that she looked a little frailer and a little more pregnant after the trip, either. It was that whatever she’d been told had obviously increased the distance between them, not reduced it.

At first, the queen did not speak to him. Instead, she spoke with the Town Father and the Wisewoman. It was only when she’d complimented everyone for their hard work and prayed publicly to the gods on their behalf that she summoned Simon.

He’d cleaned up a little in that time, so he was somewhat presentable when he met her on the beach beneath an awning where she was holding court. When he arrived, she dismissed her guards and spoke with him alone, though she did so from her chair as an obvious reminder of who was in charge.

“The Oracle’s mountain was every bit as beautiful as you said it was,” she said. “Thank you for convincing me to go.”

“And what did she say?” Simon asked.

“That all prophecies were, in their way, self-fulfilling,” she sighed.

“I’m not sure what that means,” Simon answered.

“I’m not sure I do either,” she agreed. “But what matters is this. We are done. A romance is not like a hearthfire, to be relit whenever you feel cold. Flames are not interchangeable, and neither are Simons.”

He nodded. Unwilling to trust his voice at the answer he knew was coming.

“But,” she said just as he started to look down at his feet. “It would be wrong to deny you access to your own child. I learned that from the Oracle, too.”

“I see,” Simon answered cautiously. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you are not to return to the palace until the son I will bear you is eight years old,” she said. “Somewhere around that time, I will choose a tutor to help my child grow into the King that Ionia needs. If you wish to be a father to him, that will be your chance, even if he will never know it.”

Simon’s mind flashed to his experiences with Niko as she said that, and he nodded.

“You will need a new face and a new name to go with it,” she continued. “My visions seemed to imply that this wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“I’ve been going by Ennis here, actually. Long story,” Simon answered without hesitation, as he chose to put a slightly more Ionian spin on his previous nom de guerre.

“Very well, then,” she nodded, “I will expect you then. Do not disappoint me.”