Chapter 103: The Cocagne Affair (3)

The next day after his arrival, Simon was invited to a private ‘summoning session’ with Norbelle and Queen Remedia in the aptly named Nest of the Phoenix; the very place where Cocagne’s eidolon protector dwelled.

“It’s a good sign, I suppose?” Simon asked his sister as they walked up the stairs leading to the castle’s roof.

“It is a fantastic sign,” Norbelle replied. “She only used to invite me. I’m almost jealous that I will have to share her attention now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“True, true, I jest… but I am jealous. I thought the light megalith and I had a special relationship only Mother and Mirror-Face shared… I feel less special all of a sudden.” She walked up a bit ahead of him and turned around, hands behind her back. “Since when did you learn to cast Tier V prayers?”

Simon smiled, delighting in her confusion. “Would you believe me if I said I read it in a book?”

“Of course not, Father made sure the castle library excluded any spellbooks. I had to learn everything from tutors.” Norbelle leaned forward a bit, meeting his gaze. “I don’t recall you ever showing much appetite for swordsmanship either, let alone aptitude.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Do try. I am an open-minded person.”

He had baited her quite nicely. Time to hook the fish. “Are you aware of my dreams? The ones where I saw Father die? Well, every time I woke up, I realized I carried with me a…” He sensed invisible fingers on his throat, threatening him not to reveal too much. “Phantom memory, you could say. Skills I had in my dreams, and that somehow stuck around when I awoke.”

“Truly?” Norbelle put a finger on her lips, pondering his answer. “I had those dreams too, but I didn’t learn any spells from them.”

“You had those dreams too?” Simon asked, feigning surprise.

“Of course I’ve had weird magical dreams.” She sounded almost insulted by the question. “I am a Visionary, and the child of the two most powerful humans in the world.”

“What did you see?” Simon asked, knowing she wouldn’t resist lording her knowledge over him.

“Father dying to you, or Louis, or Mother… or even me once. I fed him to one of my summoned slaves.” She pouted. “Except I didn’t get any skills or spells out of those nightmares. You’re cheating, Simon.”

“When did you start having those dreams?” Simon asked in an attempt to establish a timeline of when those visions kicked in.

“Same time you did, I think. My theory is that the Overlord and the Oracle both have a foresight ability, except one gets their visions from the Dark and the other from the Light. They’re constantly warring for control of the future.” Norbelle chuckled. “I think Dad’s visions focused on his potential deaths and they ripple through the Dark, so we saw those extinguished futures in our dreams.”

Simon’s head perked up as he caught on to a specific detail. “Those we saw?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Of course, it’s only something a real Visionary like me would notice.” Norbelle’s face turned smug and condescending. “Visionaries can only see visions of events where they were physically present. We’re borrowing knowledge from our future selves.”

Simon froze as the pieces fell into place.

He had dreamed of reigns where he personally witnessed Father’s death, and so did Norbelle.

That explained why their visions differed sometimes; they hadn’t necessarily been physically present to witness all the reigns and their conclusions. The two of them remembered the same Lighthouse dream only because they had both been present to witness Father’s murder.

Maybe they had even colluded during that reign to kill him together that time…

Which meant… which meant Norbelle wouldn’t dream of him so long as she wasn’t physically present to witness his demise. She didn’t see any of Simon’s reigns because they had been far away from each other, even in the one where they fought on opposing sides of the Goetia Research Facility’s siege.

He had to ensure she was never present to witness his demise in any future reign, or else she would eventually dream of it. Maybe it would take years or months, but she would see it.

“Did I just blow your mind?” Norbelle’s head tilted to the side like an owl. “Come to think of it… if we shared dreams, then you must have had that one too…”

“Which one?” Simon asked, more confused than anything.

“You know…” She moved a step down, put her arms around his neck, and then whispered in his ear. “The one where we had sex.”

For a very, very long moment, Simon couldn’t say anything. It was like his mind had hit a wall as the words slowly sank in, bringing a terrifying picture to life within his skull.

That… that wasn’t… he didn’t remember… it couldn’t be…

“We killed Father together and it made us horny, so we had sex while he was bleeding out,” Norbelle said with a devilish expression. “He died watching us making sweet love in his bed.”

Could he have… no, no! Simon vaguely remembered all his dreams about father’s deaths–from a poisoned cup to throwing him off a tower or passing on in his sleep after a feast–and he couldn’t recall a single one that happened in his bedroom!

“You’re… you’re lying!” Simon protested, his cheeks flushing so red it hurt. This bitch was messing with him! “I don’t remember any of that nonsense!”

“Maybe I’m lying, maybe I’m not,” she teased him with a knowing look upon letting go of his neck. “The point is that you imagined it. You pictured it in your head, Simon. I know you did, you know that I know, and I’ll never let you forget it. You’ll spend the rest of your life knowing you’re a disgusting pervert who imagined himself having sex with his sweet little sister.”

That… What a twisted, evil mastermind! “You’re our father’s daughter!”

“I know.” She sounded so awfully proud of it too. “I can’t wait to tell Lauriane about it. I’m sure it will give her ideas.”

Simon spent the rest of the ascent struggling with the urge to add another kinslaying to his list of crimes.

The agony lasted until they reached the Nest of the Phoenix. It resembled a fountain atop a tower, except it churned out a substance Simon could only describe as liquid fire; an ooze smoother than lava and brighter than sulfur. A central platform in the middle and linked to the stairs by a stone bridge housed a burnished urn within which burned a shining egg of smokeless fire the size of a small house. The sheer mana radiating off of it reminded Simon of the water megalith.

“Is this…” Simon squinted at the egg. “The Phoenix?”

“Its sleeping form,” Queen Remedia’s voice answered him from above, lightly startling Simon. He looked up to find her floating a dozen meters or so above them, sitting on empty space. “Its true form would cast this castle in its wingspan’s shadow.”

Remedia could fly?

Of course she can fly, she lives in a floating castle, Simon thought, bowing to her. Let’s not screw this up.

Shabram’s files had already helped him learn much about Remedia—Balzam obviously having kept close tabs on her—and Norbelle extensively completed that briefing since. He had learned quite a lot about her.

Queen Remedia was thirty-seven years old, having reigned for nearly twenty years after her mother, the previous Mage, was assassinated by the then-current Rogue during a border conflict with Navarre. She had married King Filip less than three months after her coronation, and many would come to describe her rulership of Cocagne’s as a golden age. She extensively reformed the country’s legal code, granting more rights and protections to the peasantry, while expanding non-noble interests in the Senate; promoted trade, foreign investments, and economic sectors, turning the country into a major exporter of high-quality magical and manufactured goods; and she also sponsored provincial schools and was a noted patron of the arts.

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Remedia had a ruthless side to her, of course, like all monarchs. Besides relying on the Magisterium to prosecute some overmighty vassals, she had expanded the powers of the Shadowguard, the royal family’s espionage, assassination, and sabotage service. Shabram was convinced she had ordered the death of a Navarran chieftain critical of Cocagne and that she had blackmailed at least one noble house into not supporting the Militarist faction by threatening to expose an internal scandal. She also mostly turned a blind eye to the increasing drug trafficking problem in her Queendom and the slave-gladiators common in Cocagne’s arenas, though she did ease their burden. All in all, she seemed like a fair and competent ruler overall, though her lack of an heir and support for the Autonomist faction had begun to lessen her power.

Otherwise, she was a voracious reader with one of the largest private libraries in the world, and an art collector with a particular interest in Fablan porcelain. Ambassador reports noted that she had a particular fascination with landscape gardens, and she often got into minor trouble with her finance minister over her lavish spending on jewelry and clothes, though she kept that particular expensive pleasure mostly under control.

Simon had a few ideas on how to befriend her, but he wanted to get a closer grasp on her personality first. The queen and the woman might be two very different aspects of the same person, after all.

“My apologies for startling you, Prince Simon, I enjoy watching the dawn rise from on high,” Queen Remedia said upon landing in front of them. She offered him her hand, which he gallantly kissed. “I pray your first night in Cocagne was pleasant.”

“It was.” Simon had never enjoyed a more comfortable bed in any prior reign. “It is we who should apologize for our delay, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, we were delayed due to arguing about the merits and demerits of noble consanguinity,” Norbelle said with a grin. “Keeping the magic in the family and all that stuff.”

This girl was born before shame!

Thankfully, Remedia had a sense of humor and rolled with it. “Norbelle, do not tell me my son bores you so much that you would rather import your brother from abroad as a replacement?”

“Not at all,” Norbelle replied, “Besides, Verdis is bound to have inherited at least some of Your Majesty’s talent.”