The Bell Tolls for Me

"Your Majesty, forgive me for disturbing you, but—"

Edgar reached his hand out and placed it over the Archwizard's mouth in rage. Days uncountable of hearing that same greeting had gotten under his skin. This sort of frustrating scenario was the last one that he wanted to endure upon being freed of his illness. It reminded him of some of the most desperate moments of his last life. The one in particular that came to mind was the Spring Rebellions. He'd been outnumbered almost twenty to one, and overcoming that situation had taken an eternity of attempts.

But this situation wasn't like the ones that it came before. There wasn't any risk of losing at all. There wasn't anyone actively out to get him. There was just someone trying to get away, well-prepared and determined to succeed. Edgar had already been here a very long time. He made his fun where he could, but with things as they are, he was already growing incredibly impatient with these confining circumstances.

"No scouting efforts have borne fruit. Either they're moving faster than I thought possible, or they're shielding their presence with magic." Edgar lowered his hand.

The Archwizard considered that, his rheumy eyes growing thoughtful. "Your Majesty, I know some magics that might see past any—"

"Your methods didn't work the last time, nor the other chances I gave you." Edgar rose to his feet, more confident in this weakened body now. "The only idea that I have is recklessly catapulting boulders into the ocean where they might have gone. But that could take months, even years of trying—hitting nothing but the sea, time and time again."

Edgar closed his eyes, thinking hard. "I haven't been able to find that serving girl. Alice, her name was. Nor Bernadetta, that woman you assured me was reliable."

"Bernadetta's always been independent, but she's never refused an order," the Archwizard assured.

Edgar kept his eyes closed. "She was Isabella's friend, judging by the people I've interrogated. She was her friend for many years. Yet in all the decades of retries I spent in that palace, I can't remember meeting her before." He scratched his cheek. "I'm tired of this." Edgar opened his eyes. "There are a few natural choke points Isabella's ship will have to pass through in the future. We'll position ourselves to catch them going through those."

The Archwizard watched with an uncertain expression. "Are you sure of this, Your Majesty?"

"It took me months to come to that decision," he said. "I'm certain. Isabella has the wasting illness. Whether she's nearby or very far away, the people working with her will try to keep her alive. There's not a chance that they can reverse the magic without killing her, I'm certain." Edgar opened his hand in and out. "I've been resting for far too long. It's time for me to again take the throne."

"Shall I—"

"No," Edgar interrupted. "You need to focus on intercepting them at any cost. We'll only have a few chances to succeed—a few points in the map where it becomes impossible for any ship to avoid coming close enough to the coast to avoid capture." Edgar rolled his shoulder. "Until then… it's long overdue for the interregnum to end."

He wouldn't allow himself to be bogged down with defeat or resentment on this wondrous day his health began to revive. The return of the true king ought to be celebrated. He would begin a reign that would last for one thousand years, like the kings of old.

"I have an heir to my abilities," remarked Edgar, walking out of the room. "But an heir and a spare would be most ideal, yes?" He took a deep breath, exhaling. "Come. It's time for my glorious return. It's time to hear the bells ringing."

***

Isabella groggily opened her eyes when she heard the ringing of bells. It was different from the sound of bells that she remembered. It took her a moment, but she placed them—the bells of the ship they were on. She moved, testing her body. Her limbs were growing heavier by the day. She could still walk for now, but that seemed up in the air as time passed. She sat up, walking toward the door while leaning against the bed frame, and then the wall.

Isabella opened the door to see most of the sailors and guardsmen out on the deck. They were looking at something in the distance. Isabella walked over to the railings, and as the ship lurched, she very nearly fell over. She lifted her eyes to see what was coming. At once, her dark mood brightened when she saw someone staring back at her in the distance.

Valerio stood on the front of another ship opposite theirs, perched boldly as though he wasn't afraid to fall overboard. Isabella clung to the railing as she moved to the front of the ship. When the boats seemed liable to pass each other by, Valerio braced and jumped, and Isabella felt her heart beat faster in anticipation. He landed on the railing before her, hopped down, and then grabbed her in both his arms and lifted her up in an embrace. She clung to him, laughing.

Isabella had no idea how much she'd wanted Valerio to do that. With his arms around her, it was as though a heavy weight she'd been carrying alone had suddenly been taken off her shoulders.

"I missed you," he said, repeating it a few times. "Gods, but I missed you. I felt as though I was missing a lung. It was like I couldn't breathe without you around."

"…you're squeezing me tight enough I can't breathe now," Isabella said, lightly pushing against him. "Set me down, please."

Valerio obeyed, but when he set her down immediately she staggered forth back against him. "Easy now," he said, catching her. He watched her with concern. "Are you…?"

"Yes. It went exactly as we predicted," Isabella said, and Valerio looked grim. "Not that I didn't miss you as well... but why are you here? I thought the agreement was to meet up at a port in Ambrose."

"That was my doing, Your Majesty." Isabella turned her head to see Arthur alight weightlessly on the railing of the ship, then step off to the deck. He kneeled and placed his hand on his chest. "Your Majesty. I've… I've much to say, but…"

"Your Majesty, you said?" Isabella repeated. Arthur cast a glance up at her, and then nodded.

Isabella thought back to the vision she'd had.

"I've ensured my memories will return in that eventuality, using the wasting illness as the anchor," Arthur had said.

"Then it was true." Isabella stepped away from Valerio, but kept her hand on his arm. "You saved me. And… you even followed to be sure I would remain this way." She let silence follow as she processed that information. This outcome had been on her mind for a long while. It had been spoken of in that vision. She didn't think it'd come true, yet… here it was.

Arthur said nothing, blinking quickly to hold back tears as he spared glances at her. He swallowed, then managed, "I failed you. Here we are again, and I'm…"

Isabella reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder. "Stand. And don't call me Your Majesty—Isabella will suffice. I'm no longer the Queen any more than you are the Archwizard."

Arthur rose to his feet. "But we remain who we are, Isabella."

Valerio moved closer as Arthur spoke. He put one arm behind her waist. "You should rest, Isabella."

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"Rather the contrary," Arthur said firmly. "It makes little difference whether she's walking around or lying in bed. The wasting illness will progress as it always does." He met Valerio's gaze. "I'm skeptical that something so powerful will be mitigated by whatever power you possess. I tried countless things to solve Isabella's problem—the Archwizard tried countless more with Edgar." He looked to her. "But rest assured, Isabella. Whatever happens, I won't rest. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"You intend to come?" Isabella said, looking between him and Valerio. "Is that really…?"

"I think it's necessary." Valerio put his hand over hers. "He knows things of Edgar. And… I'll admit that he has become quite the force of nature in his own right. He saved my life. Given all he's done, I think there's no real risk in bringing him to the Ithilian." Valerio looked at him. There was a strange pity in his expression, but Isabella didn't know why.

"I see. Still, I must ask again. Why are we not meeting at the port in Ambrose?" Isabella looked to Valerio.

"Because Edgar would capture you there, without a doubt," Arthur explained. "Edgar would have you everywhere. There's only one safe route." He gestured toward Valerio. "It's a route that I'll admit that only the Duke of the Isles could take."

***

Isabella leaned against the railing as she stared out into the distance. She saw something that was almost unbelievable. A gargantuan mountain of snow—or perhaps it was ice—adrift on seas of the clearest blue she'd ever seen. There were small islands of this ice spreading out on the sea, floating like wooden platforms.

"If we're encountering ice…" Isabella began, looking to Arthur.

"Indeed. We're near the arctic," Arthur confirmed. "That's why Valerio needs to remain focused to the utmost. One wrong move, the ship could capsize. Still, this path isn't half so risky as going south. If we were to go south as we had been, I have little doubt that Edgar would engineer a trap for us. He understands what it is to trap enemies. He's been doing it for centuries."

"Centuries?" Isabella repeated.

"Mmm." Arthur nodded. "Repeating the same day, again and again. That's what he does. Week after week, month after month, year after year. But he is still human. I imagine the only reason that you escaped was because you made things difficult enough for him that he got frustrated. He's been in bed for a long while—I imagine he has less patience than he ordinarily does." Arthur smiled broadly. "He's underestimated you. I hope this time, it can be his downfall."

Isabella looked back out to the ocean. As she watched the distant platforms of ice adrift on the sea, she gasped in delight when she spotted something that Abigail had sketched a million times.

"A seal!" Isabella said, then cleared her throat to calm herself. They both watched it, Isabella with a particularly intense curiosity. Eventually, Isabella looked to him and continued seriously, trying not to show her embarrassment for her outburst. "And the link the Archwizard formed between me and him… there's no way to simply remove it?"

Arthur looked depressed. "If I were to give a metaphor, I would liken it to a barbed arrow. It's stuck in firmly. Pulling it out would rip out great chunks of your soul—killing you at worst, vegetablizing you at best." He looked at her. "It's an angle that I considered many times over."

"All those years, I had no idea that you were so devoted," Isabella said. "I…"

"Devoted? There's no forgiving what I've done." Arthur looked out to the sea. "I… with Bernadetta, I…"

"You allowed her to get in?"

Arthur didn't say anything, but he nodded. It stung her a little.

"Even if that's true, you knew it would give me another life. I'd say that evened it out," Isabella suggested, then smiled.

Arthur looked at her and returned her smile. "I don't deserve to ask anything of you, much less forgiveness. I… simply couldn't stand to allow Edgar to win," he said, gripping the railing tightly. "He intended to…" he closed his eyes. "No. Never mind."

"He intended to what?" Isabella pressed.

"We're going to end him," Arthur insisted. "It doesn't matter. You're better off not hearing about it."

"I should be the judge of that, no?" Isabella tilted her head.

Arthur clenched his teeth together strongly. "Edgar began to explore the notion of… close consanguinity being the key to perpetuating further inheritance of your shared time-related abilities."

Isabella leaned against the railing, nauseous immediately. Arthur had chosen his words carefully, but it couldn't disguise what that meant.

"Your father is a monster. He's been living a life where he can do whatever he wishes, and then reverse the consequences," Arthur continued. "He indulged himself in the lowest depravity imaginable, without ever facing true consequences for it." He shook his head, warding away memories. "The image we see is the polished, refined one. No overt scandals. Outwardly, stately and dignified. But lost between the cracks he creates in time slips horrors unimaginable. I've never seen his work. It's merely been described to me. That alone was enough to leave an indelible mark that I'll be glad to see die with me… and with him."

"Is that why you came back, then?" Isabella looked over, unsettled. "To see him laid low?"

"Half the reason, yes. The other half…" Arthur looked at her pointedly.

Isabella looked away, unable to hold his intense look. "Arthur…"

"Relax," Arthur said, then hopped up to sit back on the ship's railing. "When you died, I told you to be happy. I don't know if you even remember… but I meant it, Isabella. And I don't particularly care with whom you find that happiness. The Duke of the Isles, fearless pirate lord… he's hopelessly besotted with you," Arthur said with some amusement. "He trusts you enough to uproot his whole life. If you were to betray that trust, you wouldn't be the Isabella I like. Besides, it's for the best," he finished, almost off-hand.

"Why is that?" Isabella asked.

"Hmm? Oh… simply because I'm unsuited for the role," he said dismissively.

Isabella stared suspiciously. "Is that it?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Arthur asked.

Isabella thought of whether or not to press the issue. "Earlier on… I think Valerio looked at you with pity," she said, gauging Arthur's expression. He turned his head away. That had merely been intuition before, but his reaction confirmed it. "Arthur… my breadth of knowledge is a puddle compared to your ocean, but I do have some. If my ability of time manipulation is so rare and powerful, and used thus far only by me… for you, it can't be…"

Arthur smiled bitterly. "I suppose it was inevitable you would learn." He looked over. "Your instinct is right. My soul can't handle being pulled through time, as yours can. It wasn't made for it.

"Meaning?" Isabella pressed, feeling dread.

"You know what it means," Arthur said. "Death. It's embarrassing, frankly. I tried to sound noble, but… I'm not giving up anything. I never thought I'd live very long beyond Edgar's defeat. A happy life for us wasn't ever on the table."

Isabella's mind swirled. "No," she said without thought.

"No?" Arthur repeated, then chuckled wryly. "I'm quite certain it wasn't. I didn't make this choice lightly, Isabella. I knew what it entailed. I resolved myself to this sacrifice. Edgar needs to fall; you deserve to rise. That was my simple calculus. Much forethought went into it, I assure you."

"You can't die," she insisted, despair overwhelming her. Isabella's mind quickly dived for answers… and though she expected none, she found one hope that brought light to her being. "Allison," she said in revelation. "Abigail's sister, Allison!"

"The… heir to the Archduchy of the North?" Arthur said, confused.

Isabella was about to explain, but she caught herself. Abigail saw how people would die—Allison, meanwhile, her twin sister, saw where life could take root. She had visions of life, of survival. She saw the route by which the Balat family could survive. Abigail had sworn her to secrecy, but only one thing was important now.

"You can't die," Isabella said with certainty. "I can't explain why, but you must see Lady Allison. I won't allow you to refuse. It's inevitable that we go to the north to plan next steps, if—when we're successful with the Ithilian. You'll come with us, and you'll see Lady Allison."

Arthur tilted his head. "I don't see why not. I intended on joining you there anyway. However…" he hopped down from the railing, looking back out at sea. "I urge you not to waste your time grappling with the inevitable."

"My continued existence is a defiance of the inevitable," Isabella reminded him. Then, she looked ahead, where their ship cut across the icy seas of the arctic. In time, they would reach the land of the elves. "We're going to receive what Edgar searched for his whole life—a way to ward off the wasting illness. What makes you think your life can't be saved?"

Arthur leaned back, no smile on his face. "We'll see."