As Simon took his ti killing the two encroaching zombies and moving the table to reinforce the broken window before more could join them, he tried to rember what had happened next the last ti he was here. Even though he’d have sworn that every detail of those wonderful few days had burned their way into his brain, he was surprised to find that they’d been scoured away just like everything else during his ti in the desert.
He rembered Freya, of course, but even his mory of the beautiful dark-haired woman hadn’t done her justice. Everything was the sa as it had been, though. The sadness, the outfit, and even bloody hands remained unchanged. So, once the breach was secured, he found it so hard not to stare that he was forced to mumble, “I’m going to make sure that there’s no more of those things in here with us. You keep that knife handy.”
She didn’t respond, but then she didn’t before, either, did she? Simon tried not to let those thoughts and his second-guessing of himself distract him too much. Even though there hadn’t been another zombie in the building before now, it would be just like Helades to add another one just to zombify him when he’d finally found his way to Freya again.
So, taking at least twice as long as he did the first ti, he searched in every closet and under every bed from the owner’s room on the third floor down to the basent. Then he reinforced the back door, so it wouldn’t cut their ti together short like it had last ti. It was only when all that was done that he joined the intermittently sobbing girl again.
Simon thought about trying to hold and comfort her, but as he approached, he saw her grip the knife a little harder, and he decided against that. Instead, he very obviously set aside his weapons and then pulled each of them a pint before he sat down on the opposite side of the table from her.
“Look,” he said finally, trying to break the silence. “It wasn’t your fault, okay? Whatever happened? Whatever you did, I’m sure it needed to be done.”
“How would you know?” she asked, not bothering to look up.
“You aren’t the only one who’s lost soone in all this,” he sighed, trying to push back flashes of that smoke-filled basent. “I’ve… well, the zombies took soone special to too.”
Sohow the silences seed more tense than last ti, and Simon was trying to figure out what he’d done wrong when Freya finally spoke. “It was Brenna… she just… and then I-I—” she whimpered as she started crying.
As she spoke, Simon rembered what she was going to say next and rose to get her a wet rag. She’d been a basket case last ti, too, until she’d wiped all the blood from her hands. Even though he still had no idea what Brenna had done, the little he knew of the woman made him sure that it hadn’t been anything good.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, wiping off first one hand and then the other. Once she was finally done, she looked up at Simon with a hint of panic in her eyes. “I had to, you understand? I didn’t want to hurt Brenna, but then she…” The woman trailed off into silence after that, making the whole situation that much more awkward for Simon.
“It’s okay. It’s over, Freya,” he said, trying to sound sympathetic, even if it was really strange to talk to the sa woman again after missing her for so long.
There was a long mont of silence, but when she finally opened her mouth again, her tone was full of suspicion. “How… how do you know my na.”
Simon swallowed hard as he realized he fucked up. He almost fucked up a second ti by telling her he saw it on her na tag. That would have worked on a waitress in the real world, of course, but here it would make him sound even crazier. Instead of answering, he took a long sip from his beer to give himself a mont to think and then decided to go with the mostly honest approach and said, “That is your na, isn’t it? I thought I rembered it from my last trip through here, but if I’m mistaken, I’m sorry.”
“No, it is, it’s just…” her suspicion lted instantly. “With everything that happened, and you just appearing and your accent, it seed like… but it’s fine.”
“This isn’t my first ti through Schwarzenbruck,” Simon nodded, “but I admit I haven’t been around in a while. My travels have taken far from ho.”
“What’s your na?” she asked, finally looking at him as a person instead of a possible threat.
“I’m Simon,” he smiled, “and it’s nice to et you… again.”
“Si-mon?” she asked, mispronouncing the letters of the unfamiliar word, but that didn’t bother him. “That is a very strange na.”
After that, they talked at length about what they knew. Freya told him what the tavern owner, Mr. Olggen, had told her about the adventurers and the necromancer, refreshing his mory. Simon nodded appropriately while he worked his way through his beer. He hadn’t actually gained any additional insight from his ti as a zombie to give him any clues there. There had been no orders from a wizard bouncing around in his head or anything like that. All he’d felt during that ti was hunger, and all he knew was that in a few weeks, soone would open the south gate to purge the zombies and release them on an unsuspecting world in the process.
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Simon wasn’t really sure what he could do with that information, though. He could hunker down here with Freya until it was safe to leave, but he didn’t really need to. He could just open a door for them at any ti, and they could go say hello to the wyvern by way of the sewers and the jungle.
But wouldn’t that freak her out?
The thought ca completely unbidden to his mind, but he was forced to agree with it. Even trying to open the front door would make her attack him, but seeing a portal open like that? Would she turn on him the sa way the villagers had in his last life, or would she try to give him the benefit of the doubt the way that Gregor had? He didn’t know, so for now, he decided it was best to just stay quiet.
Simon enjoyed their conversation more than anything in a long ti. The feasts at the Baron’s, as well as the dueling yards before it had gotten too warm, were nice, of course. They just weren’t as nice as this because Freya had the advantage of being a beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties.
“Do you suppose there’s enough food in this place that we could make ourselves sothing to eat?” Simon asked, making her smile slightly for the first ti.
“There’s more food than two people can eat before it starts to spoil,” she said, finally setting aside her knife as she seemingly decided Simon wasn’t going to murder her.
After that, they busied themselves in the kitchen. She mostly focused on reheating so stew left over from the night before, and he spent his ti trying to clean up the place. By the ti he’d removed all the bodies from the common room and the kitchen and wiped away as much blood as he could, she’d almost stopped flinching when he walked by.
The food was great, especially for leftovers, and they were both hungry enough that they ate in relative silence while they focused on the al. It was only when Freya’s bowl was finally empty that she asked, “What are we going to do now?”
“Well, you said so yourself; we have plenty of food and even more beer, so we’ve got plenty of ti to figure that out,” Simon tried to reassure her, though she didn’t seem reassured, exactly. “We’re safe for now. That’s all that matters.”
The rest of the day passed in idle discussions, and Simon told her about the ti he helped Gregor kill a mine full of goblins to try to convince her that he knew what he was doing, but she kept her distance both physically and emotionally. Simon couldn’t rember if she’d been this standoffish last ti, so eventually, he decided to go take care of sothing he was sure he’d done the last ti he was stuck here with her: remove the corpses scattered throughout the inn.
Putting on his thick leather gloves, he dragged them upstairs one at a ti and tossed them out of the second-story window. It was backbreaking work, and it made him curse his newfound weakness again as he realized how much work he needed to do to get back to where he was so recently. The Simon he was yesterday would have been able to get rid of all the bodies without taking a single break, but the Simon of today had to stop and rest after each one, and it was aggravating.
By the ti that was done, the night was starting to fall, so after one last periter check to make sure there weren’t any boards that were going to break free in the night and cut his ti with Freya short, he went upstairs and started getting the innkeeper’s room ready for bed. He wasn’t completely surprised when he heard a knock on the door while he was laying out the sheets.
“Do you mind if I sleep in here with you tonight?” Freya asked ekly. “It’s just that—”
“It’s fine,” Simon said, pulling back the covers and offering her a spot. “There’s plenty of room.”
Freya shook her head and took a spot on the floor instead, though. Curling up fully clothed with a blanket and a weapon. “This is fine,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “Don’t even think of trying anything. I’m sleeping with this knife. Just so you know.”
That made Simon smile as he brought the last remaining lantern to the bedside table. This was a mont he rembered too. She’d been so nervous the first ti he was here, and even though he was pretty sure that she was going to crawl in bed with him again later that night, he couldn’t help but find the mont of Déjà vu completely adorable.
“The last thing I’d ever do would be to take advantage of a woman,” Simon assured her, amused by the repetition. It, more than anything else that had happened today, assured him that he was on the right track with her.
Simon had already taken his armor off during dinner, but he stacked it up neatly after he barred the door and hung his weapons in an easy-to-reach place in case sothing went bump in the night. After that, he crawled into bed and stripped down to his small clothes. This mattress was filled with sothing besides straw, so while it was much more comfortable than the one he’d grown used to in the cabin, it still wasn’t quite as comfortable as the one he’d had while he lived in Slany.
Soti in the middle of the night, Simon was awoken by the familiar sensation of Freya sliding into bed with him. “I had a nightmare,” she whispered. “Do you think that I could… maybe…”
“Of course,” he yawned, pulling the covers back. “Make yourself at ho.”
She fell asleep clinging to the edge of the bed, but by the ti morning ca, she was clinging to him like a drowning victim, just as he rembered. That made Simon smile, too, as he looked at dawn’s rising light through the shutters. “Maybe everything was going to be okay after all,” he whispered to himself as he lay there. He didn’t dare move right now, because the last thing he wanted to do was wake her and spoil this perfect mont.
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