Death After Death Ch. 86 and 87 (Patreon)

Ch. 86 - Stranger and Stranger

When Simon realized he was back in his cabin instead of his sick bed back at the inn, he sighed and rolled over to go back to sleep. This was to keep away the parts of his brain that flickered to life with a persecution complex almost instantly more than any fatigue, though.

She only killed me because I was starting to find happiness, his mind told him.

That wasn’t true, of course, probably. It was far more likely that life was short and capricious, especially in the medieval era. Even with magic to keep the perils of disease away, not all of his deaths would occur at the hands of people who were trying to kill him. Some of them would just be accidents.

But the idea that most of those accidents seemed to occur when he was happy enough to let his guard down stuck in his craw. Simon’s life in Slany hadn’t been perfect, of course, but it had been pretty great. A community full of people who knew him and thought well of him, a woman who was into him, and all the time in the world to experiment with magic. He’d been burning through his life at the rate of about a decade a year as he experimented, so he wasn’t exactly destined to lead a long and happy life by any measure, though there were solutions to that if he could stomach them.

Eventually, he dragged himself out of bed and stoked the fire in his stove so he could roast some sausages. “Alright, mirror, tell me what we’ve learned from this life.”

Simon expected it to show his character sheet or tell him it didn’t understand. Instead, when he looked over at it, his mouth fell open. There, printed on the glass, was ‘As you requested, you are to avoid the tar in Liepzen castle, and you should avoid fighting fire elementals on level ten in your next journey into the Pit.’

“Wait… How do you know that?” Simon asked. “I thought you couldn’t tell me things about the individual levels.”

‘Nor can I,’ it answered. ‘But you can tell me things, and I will remember them for you.’

“Wait, back up. Didn’t Helades say that you were supposed to help me?” he asked.

In response, the mirror played back to his last encounter with Helades. “Follow this wisp, and it will take you to the pit,” she told him pleasantly. “I’ll look forward to our next encounter, and I hope you enjoy the pit as much as you think you will.”

Simon realized then just how little he remembered of his first life here. He remembered the room that the conversation was in but very little else about it.

“How come you could tell me about that encounter but not others,” Simon asked.

‘Because I was there,’ the mirror answered instantly. ‘I am not always present for your other adventures, though I do sometimes catch glimpses.’

“You what?” Simon asked, almost annoyed by how late he was learning all this, as he was excited to finally make some headway with this freaking thing. “How can you catch glimpses of me on other levels.”

The mirror proceeded to play more clips. In one, he was fighting zombies in the bar, and in the next, he was being run through in the haunted castle. There were other ones, too. A glimpse of him from the wagon he’d rescued the children from, a quick shot of him with a volcano in the background, and one of him walking around the vine-covered ruins from a very low angle. All of these followed in quick succession, one after the other.

For a moment, Simon almost saw a pattern as he struggled to remember what each of those places would have looked like, but all the pieces didn’t quite fit together. “Wait, so you’re in all the mirrors?” he said finally, not 100% certain he was right.

‘Not all,’ it wrote in its glowing blue writing, “But many. Each offered a glimpse into your journey in other times and places. Sometimes, though, you stay in places without mirrors for an extended period of time, or you move between levels quickly. Since you never call out to me, it can make finding you difficult. Unlike the Goddess I serve, I am not omnipresent.”

Simon was stunned by this news. His first thought, though, was to curse the fact that he’d never gotten around to getting a nice mirror for the home he shared with Freya; if he had, well, he could watch a strange sort of home movies for as long as wanted.  It’s probably for the best that I didn’t, though, he said, realizing that he could spend whole lifetimes doing just that.

Before he could ask the thing to show him any other snapshots of her, though, another thought struck him.

“There aren’t any mirrors on the jungle level, and yet you saw me there. How?” he snapped.

‘Mirrors are not the deciding factor,’ the mirror explained, ‘All I need is a clear enough reflection to find you.’

“So puddles work, too. Got it. And what’s the point of all this? You just follow around behind me like some sort of notepad?” Or spy, Simon thought to himself. The idea was dumb, but honestly, it could have been useful, too. He had years and years worth of notes that he could have kept if he’d known all of this before now.

“Why did Helades give you to me?” he asked. “Are you a babysitter or a notepad?”

‘Having a spirit to watch over those who chose to brave the pit was decided long ago,’ it wrote. ‘Much like the potion that the Goddess gave you so that you might understand all the languages of the world, it was meant to be a tool for those who lose their way.’

“Lose their way?” Simon asked.

‘After spending lifetimes in the Pit, many adventurers become lost in their lives and lose track of the larger picture,’ it explained. ‘I’m here to help with that.’

“I see,” Simon said. He did, too. Even after a couple of years living another life, he found his return to the beginning more than a little disorienting. If he ever put down roots somewhere and spent decades there, well - he could see how that would be difficult. “So… you’re a Journal.”

‘I am something for you to reflect on.’ the mirror answered.

That was enough for Simon to crack a bitter smile. “Cute,” he said. “I’ll remember that. Probably.”

By the time the conversation was finished, his lunch was too, so he called up his character sheet and ate in silence while he reviewed his options.

‘Name: Simon Jackoby

Level: 20

Deaths: 37

Experience Points: -968,199

Skills: Agriculture [Below Average], Archery [Above Average], Armor (light) [Great], Armor (heavy) [Below Average], Armor (medium) [Average], Athletics [Average], Baking [Poor], Cook [Above Average], Craft [Average], Deception [Average], Escape [Poor], Healing [Above Average], Investigate [Above Average], Maces [Average], Ride [Average], Search [Average], Sneak [Above Average], Spears [Average], Spell Casting [Good], Steal [Poor], Swimming [Below Average], and Swords [Great].

Words of Power: Gervuul (greater) Meiren (fire) Aufvarum (minor) Hyakk (healing) Vrazig (lightning) Dnarth (distant) Oonbetit (force) Zyvon (transfer) Gelthic (ice) Karesh (protection) Uuvellum (boundary) Barom (light) Delzam (cure)’

He’d gained more than twenty thousand karma in the last life, which was more than he expected. He’d expected to gain perhaps half of that and wasn’t sure exactly how to account for the discrepancy. Was it because he had saved so many or because he’d killed so few? Maybe it was because he’d been really satisfied with the little life he was building or because he’d managed to remove some of the dark clouds that had been hanging over his head for a few lives now.

He couldn’t say. Ultimately, it was one more data point to be filed away, and he chewed on it as he got ready to descend again into the depths.

When Simon was all ready, he wasn’t completely surprised that the first level was still there. Part of him had thought that the food was there to prevent starvation, but part of him had decided it was the goblins he’d missed last time.

“I could be wrong on both counts,” he muttered to himself after he finished murdering the rats. “The goblin level could still be there, taunting me.”

Even if it was, though, he’d already decided he wasn’t going to try again. He’d done literally everything he could think of. It was time to get to level 30 and have a nice long talk about Freya so he could put that memory behind him one way or the other. He could figure out how to resolve other levels once he’d resolved that question.

The trap level held nothing new, save for the ending. The goblin level was, in fact, gone. In its place were the stairs that descended into the tomb of the skeleton knight.

“You know, it kind of makes more sense this way,” he said to himself as he descended the chilly stairs. An unassuming basement that led to a trap-ridden tomb with a mini-boss at the end felt like a proper dungeon, and he smiled at that as he pulled out his mace and started smashing skulls.

They no longer presented a real challenge, but they were a workout he sorely needed as soon as he lost all the muscles he’d earned over the last few years. “How did I ever let myself get this weak?!” he roared as he beheaded the boss and then stooped to pick up the creature’s gauntlet and sword.

Simon allowed himself a moment to rest, studying the coffins and other armor for any details that might give him more context about what this level was for, but anything that wasn’t magical had aged poorly and beyond an additional chance to study the runes of the sword, and especially its mystery power source, there was little here that interested him.

So, with that in mind, he unlocked the gate and prepared to enter the sewer. That wasn’t what he found, though. Instead, he found a bustling tavern waiting there for him. Simon was more than a little shocked, but as soon as people started to look at him, he quickly shut the door behind him, lest anyone see the crypt he’d come from.

This was a level that Simon had already beaten. He was sure of that. He’d memorized every detail of this cursed inn, and more than that, he’d put it behind him. So how was it back? No, how was it back and whole?

Simon left the small dining room he was in, in a daze as he walked into the common room. Where were the zombies? Where were the dead bodies? He wondered.

It was a jarring moment, and he almost stopped to ask someone about it, but before he could open he saw her smiling across the room from him, and his mind froze completely solid. Freya was alive, and stranger still; she was smiling.

Ch. 87 - Coming Back to Haunt Him

Simon would have stared all night if he hadn’t noticed someone else giving him a strange look. It was then, only reluctantly, that he walked across the crowded bar and ordered himself a beer so that he could have something to do for a while longer.

Freya wasn’t the heartbroken, timid barmaid he was so used to seeing in this room. She was practically the opposite. She was wearing light leather armor and had a quiver of arrows on her back. It was clear she was a warrior of some kind now, and so were her friends. Eight of them sat there, occupying the central trestle table that he usually used to block the window.

In fact, now that he was looking around he noticed that he recognized many of the people here. Brenna, Gotrik, and more than a few zombies he’d killed more than once were in the room, though this time, they were all alive and breathing. The adventurers he’d fought so recently at the front gate were even here, and they were part of Freya’s party.

Simon was still trying to come to grips with that strange arrangement when Breena brought his drink over. She practically shoved her tits in his face as she did so.

“Anything else?” she asked with a wicked smile, “or are you going to go join those friends of yours?”

“Oh, I don’t know them,” Simon said quickly.

“No?” she smiled. “Another mercenary group coming into town just as these are leaving. That’ll be good for business.”

Simon thought about asking her what she meant by that, but instead, he let her walk away. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his contempt off of his face when it came to dealing with her. Instead, he did what he always did. He bought a few drinks for the men at the bar, played some dice, and let them talk.

It turned out there hadn’t been any attacks on Schwarzenbruck in recent memory. Times had never been better. King Wilden the second, whom Simon had once met as a Prince, had been in power for years now, and though people didn’t think he was the man his father had been, the Duke had not tried to seize power on the man’s death. No one had heard anything about zombies or necromancers either. It was practically a golden age.

It dawned on Simon only slowly that this was his doing. He’d changed the past and, in doing so, had changed all future levels. Only that didn’t make sense either. If completing past level rest all future levels, then he should have gone to the slime next.

Did the slime level stay completed because nothing I did affected it or because it’s no longer necessary to complete this level? He wondered to himself as he let himself lose another silver.

There were so many unknowns here that he wouldn’t have known where to start untangling the knot even if he wasn’t distracted, and he was hopelessly distracted by the idea that Freya was just across the bar, and he didn’t know what to do about that. One thing he did know was where they were going. There was some sort of trade dispute to the north, and they’d been hired to escort a caravan and make sure the way was clear before any more valuable cargo was lost.

People said it was gnolls, but Simon wouldn’t know. He’d never fought a gnoll before. He would have found a way to get himself invited along just to spend some time with her if he hadn’t watched just how touchy-feely she was with one of the other men in her little outfit. That was enough to make him decide he needed to be moving on right there.

Simon reminded himself that this wasn’t his Freya and that she could do anything she wanted with whoever he wanted, but seeing her laugh at another man’s jokes was enough to turn that dull ache that had haunted him for so long into a sharp pain as his old wounds ruptured their scar tissue and came back to haunt him.

Simon chugged the last of his beer before he slammed his wooden tankard down and rose. When he did, his eyes met Freya’s just long enough to see a flicker of interest cross her face, but it was gone again as one of her companions spoke to her. So, reminding himself that she wasn’t his Freya, and even if she was going to be fine, he strode past her and opened the door. As expected, it didn’t lead out into the cool night air. Instead, it led into the fetid sewer, but he slammed it shut behind him before anyone could figure out where that awful smell was coming from.

Maybe he’d join up with her to learn about what it was she was up to and how she’d ended up as a sell sword rather than a barmaid on some other trip. For now, he had a date with Helades. Maybe after he finally got his questions answered, he could lay this issue to rest, but until then, everything else was a distraction.

Simon incinerated the Carrion crawler when it came at him this time. It dropped sizzling into the sewage before it ever got the chance to hurt him. He considered digging through the bodies but decided that was a distraction, too.

“If I’m not permanently solving these levels, then what’s the point?” he asked himself as he climbed the ladder and started toward the pyramid.

It was maddening! How many lives had he spent clearing zombies, goblins, and carnivorous plants, only to find out now that he was going to have to do it all over again?  It was almost enough to make him want to ask Helades about that instead, but he refused to give in to his curiosity. There was only one question that had an answer worth knowing today, and that answer was still almost twenty levels away.

Simon took his third break at the top of the pyramid when he confirmed that the Wyvern level was still gone, and he was looking at a volcanic eruption. This time, he skipped his chance to duel with a fire elemental, though, and went straight for the exit, where he found that the forest had returned.

“What in the fuck is going on?” he muttered to himself as he strung his bow, knocked his sword, and stepped through into the darkness.

Simon hadn’t seen this place since he’d saved those kids. Fortunately, this time, he knew where he was and walked toward the road with an arrow at the ready. He heard the owlbear screech in the darkness more than once, but it wasn’t quite as close as it was last time.

None of those noises were enough to stop him from moving cautiously forward, though. This time it didn’t find him. This time, he found it, and as it darted up on the road to feast on the carcass of a horse, he released his arrow, using a word of force to give it the energy to punch through the back of the creature's skull. Even that wasn’t enough to drop it, though, and it shrieked in an agonizingly high-pitched note and charged Simon.

It never reached him, though. It fell over dead halfway there near the overturned wagon he knew he’d find the children in. Still, just to make sure, he picked up the sword of one of the dead men and buried it in the massive carcass to make sure it wasn’t just playing dead.

“Alright, you can come out,” he said, looking around to make sure nothing else was looking to eat them. “The coast is clear.”

No one moved, and for a moment, Simon feared that the boy and girl might be dead already. Flipping over the flap of the overturned wagon, he found that was not the case, but even as he coaxed the two of them out, they were still extremely skittish. That wasn’t any different than before. What was, was the girl that was with the young lad.

Eddik was still the same young man he’d been before that was thrilled by Simon’s bravery once his hands stopped shaking, but the woman that was with him was a couple of years older than she’d been last time, and her hair was light instead of dark. Chagrined, Simon realized he couldn’t remember what her name was last time, but this time, it was Kaylee, and she definitely wasn’t the same servant girl.

That one had been sweet and clingy, but Kaylee was very suspicious and kept looking at him like he was about to do something horrible to her. He couldn’t blame her for that, though. If he was rescued in the middle of a massacre, he’d be pretty on edge himself.

He ignored it and focused on all the other small changes he was noticing. For starters, they were much deeper in the woods than they’d been in last time. Previously, Simon had rescued them just before they’d been about to exit the forest and reach the river, but now the road seemed to wind endlessly through the trees. It was just another little detail that didn’t quite add up.

Why should one person change and not the other? Why should the location of the attack change? And if the location of the attack changed, then does that mean the location of the portal changed?

It had to have, he told himself. That was the biggest difference of all. So far, he’d assumed that the portals had been fixed, but if they weren’t, then that said something about exactly where Helades chose to place them.

As dawn approached, they still weren’t out of the woods, and Simon wasn’t completely surprised when another owlbear attacked them. At that moment, he regretted not bringing the pike with him. That had been a superb weapon for dealing with an eight-foot-tall monster.

Since he didn’t have it, though, and since it was already drizzling, he called down a bolt of lighting to fry it in place as subtly as he could. Not that there was anything subtle about lightning, of course, but he could do his best to make sure that the pair of children he was escorting didn’t think he had anything to do with it.

“Well, we certainly lucked out there,” Simon said as he lowered the sword he had been pretending like he was about to fight the thing with. “We should get out of here before we’re struck down next.”

The boy responded by nodding mutely, but the girl continued to glare at him. That was when he realized that she could probably see the aura that the other two women had seen around him for the first time. It would fit with the facts, but he wasn’t sure exactly how he was supposed to bring that up without further incriminating himself, especially considering her stony silence.

Still, Simon kept up a cheery conversation with the boy, at least, as he told Simon all about his father and the festival he was supposed to attend.

When the sun rose, part of him wanted to sleep, but they were too close to the edge of the woods now, and in another hour or two, they’d be at the miller’s place, so he pushed on. Camping in the open would be dangerous but doing it with a girl who might be convinced that he was in league with the devil might be asking for another death, and he was in a hurry.