#[there a drabble for his borfday]

[egittae]

21th of Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 1135

Well, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.

An old song and dance by now in his mind, revolving around the same topic, questions and answers each time only to reach a conclusion that too wasn’t new.

The impossibility that was his revival, that it could mean- why did it even happen. Days where he spent thinking if this was an act of defiance against the Goddess where he ripped the pen from her hands and continued to write page after page in the book that was his life long after the epilogue had been completed, or if perhaps this was part of her plan all along and she simply chose to give him a second chance as there was something out there he had yet to do, and he could only truly die after he sees it done.

In both cases, the result too led to a wall. If he defied the Goddess, how come she hasn’t dragged him back to death yet? If this was her intention, then how come people much more significant than him- literal saints and greater kings and queens from the past, weren’t offered the same grace?

Sitting down on his bed, holding the shabby paper calendar he had on his desk, his eyes remained fixated on the date, moon and year. The number almost alien to his brain as it didn’t match any of the couple of memories it was able to gather.

Almost half a decade had passed.

Half a decade in which he didn’t exist. He wasn’t asleep or lost, just ceased. Only to return now, his organism seemingly unbothered by the fact he should’ve rotted away and become one with nature at this point- instead, it kept going. It wasn’t perfect, Lambert could tell whatever it was that happened to him did take a toll on his general health, but he was still alive and surprisingly healthy for a man that had been dead for years now.

The conversation he had with Matthias earlier, one he had actually thought to himself a couple of times before, returned to his mind. Lambert should be completing fifty years of age now- but how can he, when at least four of these years were lost? Was he fifty, or forty-six? Such a simple and almost stupid question to be stressing over, but one that sent his mind into absolute disarray because it was the most real proof of how abhorrent his situation was. Lambert could just say whatever number he wanted if others asked, but in the end he knew, in his own mind, that he…didn’t know the real answer.

Wallowing would only get him so far, in the end. Putting the calendar aside with a sigh and leaning on his elbows against his thighs, he stared at nothing in particular. It was only then that he figured- perhaps, the best way to approach his dilemma.

He closed his eyes, falling back into the fairly disorganized archive of memories that was his mind- searching for nothing specific but a key moment all the same. What he found were not one, but multiple short instances- all spoken in the tone of a joke, never taking the situation too seriously. He didn’t have to.

Lambert! Get down from that tree, you dumb arse- you will fall and split your head open! Have some more faith in me, will you? I can just walk it off anyway! Not if you die! Then I’ll get to not only walk it off but also haunt you!

–

And what would you do then? If you were to fall in combat. I have taken more than enough precautions for that to not be the case- and in the odd chance it does, I do have contingency plans on paper. Is that so… Yes. But please, Krima. Have more faith in me, will you? I am not so careless. Besides, I am not in the mood to let the Goddess drag me away so soon! I will just have a talk with her and she will let me go. Lambert, do not joke about this! Oh, you dummy…

–

If you were to die and then come back, what would you do? Haunt my brother. Stop always saying you’ll haunt people, Your Highness! Every single time! Hehe, that is the fun part, is it not? Hmm… It would feel creepy, wouldn’t it? Imagine, being fully aware that you’re a ghost…or an undead-! I think…I would feel really powerful.  Eh? Yeah, it would feel powerful, would it not? To meet the end, and then go back from it. The one boundary no warrior has ever gotten back from! The coolest king ever! I think I would wear that with pride.  With pride…

–

Maybe, instead of letting it plague his thoughts so much, he should just wear his defiance of death with pride. As his younger self, many years ago, would've wished.