Lacking television this is what people do.
Aside from us, everyone was mostly respectful of the pontifex. The man continued his sermon, I didn’t find it interesting. It was mostly about how truth is illuminated by knowledge and light. Only in shade can dishonesty manifest.
Droll stuff. I almost fell asleep and would have if I hadn’t stared up at the mirror tube that rose the height of the tower.
Time slipped away and my queen’s gentle breathing calmed me. She would nod sometime when the priest spoke, as if she agreed. Cute, but then she probably wrote the script. So it was only an agreement with herself.
Those don’t really count.
I almost asked her how she got dressed so quickly.
But then her answer would be “magic.”
I hate wizards.
Not to be an old man who hates his wife, but wizards really are the worst.
I really would have preferred a week to relax after the joust but then I suppose that’s what we were about to do.
For maybe half a day, twenty four hours, thirty six?
Man this lifestyle was too much for me.
I needed to vegetate for forty eight hours.
Could I get the priest to do a forty eight hour sermon? This might be as close to a computer screen as anyone got for one thousand years.
I was brought back to a a thunderous
“THE LIGHT! BY THE SUN! BY THE FLAME! BY THE LION!”
That erupted from everyone, even my queen. The sermon ended.
It’s nice to be appreciated but loud noises… in a crowded space no less.
Toothbrush and earplugs.
Personal protective equipment.
I could really enjoy a nice respirator right now.
I have never been very offended by body odors but when you cram a few short of one hundred people into a little less than five thousand square feet and deny them deodorant I notice.
I stood and graciously accepted their fealty.
The priest dismissed them.
“Go forth and shine thy light!” His words.
My light was toothbrush, air filtration, earplugs, and maybe a better wife.
Much too much to ask I know.
It was time to exit the building. The royal couple left last.
The queen and I figured it wasn’t worth taking too long to get to our mountains. But apparently the logistical reality demanded a carriage.
Fabulous carriage, middle aged suspension, leaf springs only. I was thankful it was not more opulent. It avoided the gaudiness I had feared. But it absolutely was not the sort of machine I was eager to enjoy. Or so I was told by the queen as we waited in the quiet presence of people exiting our… church tower? The bishop’s abode, the abbey I suppose.
Was this too public for monks and nuns? I suppose not, the queen called that girl a nun.
"How do you magically appear all over?" I asked my queen.
She giggled, what was once an off-putting calculation was now a charming characteristic. This must be why men of my past life were so foolish around women.
"No O Lion, tis only possible for me and not for you!" We stood in between pews, and she took my hand to lead me outside.
"Why then have you not summoned horses for the carriage then?"
"Well..." her face wad cloudy with concern.
"Worry not for I already have O dove!" I told her, for I had. She smiled again, "Oh of course! Twould not be a survey without horses!" As devilish as my queen must be the world remained innocent.
I was trapped in a twisted mirror of some eighties teen greaser film. We stepped out of our grim stone home of war. We only needed the carriage and perhaps a driver now.
I had not yet seen her in sunlight but my heart lept when I did.
Is perfection in form possible? Is it falsehood or illusion? Was to exist in this instant to win? A gateway into realms where where my heart is full but my mind thin. Peaceful wind on an animated coast. How can photons render in my mind what I did not know I desired most?
Suppose it was fitting that I had achieved this state through no conquest of my own. Nor labor nor speculation, nor of my charm, nor even may I say luck or any blessing of mine what so ever. For this gift that stamped itself onto my mind was not for my benefit but on loan from the devil.
But why should I be made to love it? Her? What was not hers? An object and not a soul forbidden in every paradigm. A soul hidden in the face that I must know. And why should I be blessed to feel such pleasure when indeed to this will not mine own I did not scorn? I could only my ignorance morn.
Whatever it was I had no reason to admire, yet I did. And all of mankind's works were made in mockery of her form.
Did I ever tell you I hate myself? This simple goodness always turns to anger.
I know not if to hate or to love is by God proposed. But I feel both and cannot decide for which purpose my construction was first supposed.
Sorry about that… my bad, I’m easily distracted. We stood a picturesque couple under the shade of a pecan tree.
“Someone get my foolish king his sword, he needs it to protect his dear Dove!” She called to some servant of the crown.
My pretty wife and I were employing a happy old man. The old man was punctual and the wago… pardon, the ‘carriage’... didn’t keep us waiting much longer.
That is to say,
We were to be driven up the foot of the mountain, where we would disembark to venture up the remainder of the way, the path was apparently semi-sacred. Kept by followers of the queen. Devotees of her magics. Or divinely granted powers? I was unclear, but it relied upon light and sunlight.
White Queen on the board, chess.
I the king, my sword rendered to me. I had practiced swinging it a few days ago. But I had not practiced wearing it over the clothing of a relaxing day.
We smiled and boarded the carriage anyway, it was big enough about two more people could have joined us.
But we enjoyed the space ourselves.
It’s rather easy to take up more than you need.
And as we made noises at each other and enjoyed the views and I lamented the bumps in the roads I knew how to avoid.
I finally diagnosed my situation.
As in my past life, there was no winning solution. I was already in checkmate but the game wasn’t going to end.
1) Comply and be a loser.
This was my current path, it was the safest path, but potentially the least respectable. I would surrender my life to a women, forever trapped in the shadow of a creature I did not respect. What did that make me? Perhaps it would be comfortable, but death was coming, I would not die happy.
2) Refuse to comply and be an annoying loser
This was a more fun path, perhaps an equally safe path, but likely less respectable than the first option. I would be willingly becoming a goblin, not to say the goblin was not a noble creature, but it certainly wasn’t kingly. I would be forfeiting completely this ‘gift’ I had inherited.
3) Act out and lose,
A loser from first principles, defeats the purpose of acting out in the first place. But I don’t know the odds of this outcome.
4) Act out and win.
The only respectable option, Change the game, make the game mine. Seize power.
The only viable option for anyone.
Gross.
Naturally I couldn’t just kill the queen, then I would be less of a loser, but instead of a loser I would be some sociopath freak. “The crazy old lion killed his wife, killed his serving girls, what a monster!”
In a logical sense being a monster was better than being a loser. Everyone respected a monster.
But there has to be a better way, besides, this demon, as cruel as it is, seems unaware of it’s evil. ‘innocent’ if it were. A machine that can’t stop it’s efforts. If I killed it. Destroyed her, it would be so easy. I could do it right now, her neck was at my arm…
No that would be uncouth, would her body twitch and operate as an animated object until the game ended? Was this the first step to necromancy?
No queen? Would I be playing a queen down?