Fantasy Four Suits: Of Gods & Devils - IC Thread (Vol. 4)

[Kloudy]

GMs: Kloudy TPBx
Moderators: @vielpotato Mechking SentinelSevn Coyote Hart

"And so the great game began..."​

Ornare.

The vast continent of historical treasure and mystery. Home to a myriad of rare creatures, dangerous climates and magical inhabitants. The Four Suits Kingdoms have spent the last five years recovering from the shock impact of the devastating invasion at the hand of their age-old enemies. The Argossian Empire. In just three years, all that James Stryker had toiled to build had nearly been dismantled in the grandest war the continent had seen in centuries. Great machines of metal and fire rolled over mountains, birds that dropped bright death from above flew in droves and the unending legions of the empire came harsh and ceaseless. But Argossia is no longer what the people of Ornare are here to discuss...

~~~​

Following the Argossian Reclamation Crusade's end at the Battle of Valencia, a five year non-aggression treaty was signed by the Four Suits Kingdoms. During that time, of which was to be spent largely on rebuilding all that was lost, no kingdom was to lay arms at another. In those five years, each kingdom indeed became preoccupied in matters other than war.

The Diamond Kingdom, worst hit by the crusade of all the kingdoms, had been forced to spend a large sum of its resources on the reconstruction of its many lost towns and cities. With its infrastructure barely recovering after five years, it is plainly apparent how dire the economy in the Diamond Kingdom has become. With construction materials' quantity low and costly, important items and goods have seen an influx of demand and thus an increase in price. This has had a knock-on effect in other areas of the Diamonds industry, limiting their ability to expand into new avenues of production or resource manufacturing. Through trade with the Spades Kingdom, some of the financial stress has been alleviated but there is still much left to be desired.

Following the end of the war, the Diamond Kingdom also saw the largest decrease in population and military power. With its poor industry, nobles struggling to produce enough equipment has proved less an issue for the fact that there are now less soldiers to recruit in the kingdom. The presence of bandits and raiders have begun to swell as a result, taking advantage of the lack of resistance the nobles have been able to put up. In addition to these internal conflicts, cultists are on the rise with multiple sightings of cult activity being recorded across the kingdom. In response, the Mercenary's Guild has seen a particular increase in adventurers migrating from other kingdoms to the Diamond Kingdom to accept the overabundance of bandit and cult quests being supplied by the desperate nobility. While this has helped stop widespread chaos, the roads are still not safe for travel without armed guards in these trying times. To make matters worse, pirates and waterborne brigands are patrolling the Diamond's shallows and coasts, searching for weak prey to steal from. As the kingdom's navy has been severely weakened by the empire, the royalty are not yet capable of protecting their shoreline properly.

The legend of King Dornwell's valour at the Battle of Valencia has reached back to the homeland. Hailed as a hero, many of the commonfolk praise him as an exceptional wartime leader capable of defending their lives. The nobility's opinion is split on this matter with support for Arimand and selfish desire being the two main contenders. Word of the Hofund's Blade artefact has also trailed through rumours back to the kingdom too. Dubbing it the Kingsblade by the public, many cheer for its acquisition by their venerable king, while many more fear its magnanimous power. Upon his return, the king has taken interest in the technology left behind by the invaders and great steps have been taken to understand their strange mechanisms.

Diamonds' politics have reached a stalemate. Due to the decision to outlaw slavery in the kingdom, many nobles and barons are frustrated with the royalty and wish to repeal the unfavourable laws. The slave trade continues, taking place under the cover of night and away from the clutches of the law. Support for King Dornwell has increased after his actions at Valencia, many lords congratulating his prowess on the battlefield. There are still many that question his ability in light of the successful occupation of Diamond territory by the empire. Despite this, wealthier barons and nobles are calling for the leadership to provide more ample solutions to the poor economic climate of the kingdom. With very little military to speak of, the nobility have noticeably not pressured the King to rush into another war but are shocked at his avid interest in the empire's technology. There are rumours spreading suggesting that the King is actually an Argossian infiltrater who has usurped the throne.

The beloved Ace of Diamonds, William Rundell-Haus Code, has been disgraced in battle. While the royalty have deigned to pardon him due to magical trickery, many in the kingdom still believe him to be either traitorous or too weak to properly protect them. His actions at the Battle of Valencia along with his loss of the Chaos Skulls artefact has earned him little love from the people. The Ace of Diamonds has now chosen to seclude himself in the icy wasteland of the Crystal Marking. None have seen him in the five years after the war.

~~~​

The Hearts Kingdom saw the final moments of the war on their home territory. Valencia, partially destroyed both by Argossian bombardment and the Ace of Diamonds, has since recovered alongside the many other cities ravaged by the crusade. While the war has certainly taken its toll, the Hearts have suffered damages to their land considerably lighter than their Eastern neighbours. Infrastructure has been rebuilt and, like the Diamond Kingdom, progress towards reverse-engineering Argossian technology has begun. While the Joker presence has apparently dwindled in the Hearts Kingdom, the royalty have deigned to redouble their efforts in anti-terrorism acts. Resources have been streamlined to the training and upkeep of city and town patrols to ensure insidious criminals are stopped before they can cause any harm.

The political climate of the Hearts nobility has started to heat up in the last few years. Spearheaded by the Bellarmont family, many lords and nobles are calling for battle to reclaim their glory and seize lands that rightfully belong to them. After the decision to introduce an anti-slavery policy some few years ago by the Queen of Hearts, many nobles and barons have amassed with discontent for the actions of the royalty. While slavery has become illegal, the slave trade market still continues in underground dealings away from lawful eyes. Thanks to the efforts of the royalty's focus on crime patrols, illegal slave trade has been cut down considerably regardless.

With the decline in military forces post-crusade, the Hearts lands have also seen an incline in bandits and cultist activity. While not as debilitating as the Eastern hemisphere of Ornare, many nobles are struggling to deal with the issue when many of these criminals are moving back and forth the Diamond's border and out of their jurisdiction. Due to the severe decrease in population across Ornare following the war, the Eastern territories of the Hearts Kingdom has seen a surge of new beast sightings. Originating largely from the Badlands mountain range, there have been frequent reports of monster attacks and villages being destroyed. With the Mercenary Guild focusing its interests on the money to be made in the Diamond Kingdom, the Hearts Kingdom is left to deal with this dissent alone.

~~~​

The Kingdom of Clubs, which had seen much of the frontline fighting of the empire, has successfully recovered from the war. Cities and towns have been restored with much funding now being focused into magical education and manatech advancements. As a result, the quality of mages and enchanted items in the kingdom has risen considerably in the last few years, replenishing their lost military forces with impressive speed. This swell in military has allowed the Clubs Kingdom to fend off the bandits and cultists sweeping the continent from the North and East. Despite this, creatures have begun to emerge from the great marsh on their Northern borders. Perhaps in conjunction with the Badlands, it has resulted in more sightings of monster attacks along trade routes and by villages.

The Clubs economy has also suitably recovered. Through the targeted construction of entertainment and commercial centres, a swell of revenue has been generated in major cities and has contributed greatly to the reconstruction of the kingdom. With this, the Clubs maritime influence has begun a restoration period with its investment into naval infrastructure and resources. Many coastal towns and cities are flourishing and naval trade has once again become not only a possibility, but a boon to the Clubs Kingdom. With the royalty's choice to keep slavery legal, the Clubs have become a major economic powerhouse for slave export into the three other kingdoms of Ornare. Catching the Merchants Guild's interest, many merchants are flocking to their cities to engage in profitable trade.

As the kingdom's military and economic power has grown to become one of the strongest in Ornare, many of the Clubs' nobles are calling for an aggressive show of dominance in the form of war. With plenty of soldiers, equipment and wealth to sustain a full on engagement again, a large faction of nobles have expressed their desire for King Valentine to set his sights on the expansion of Clubs territory. Given Valentine's valour on the battlefield of Valencia, earning him much fame and hails for heroship, many believe him capable of leading the Clubs to victory in claiming the whole of Ornare in his name. Most nobles are rather content with how the kingdom is being run and many praise the royalty for their leadership.

~~~​

The Spades Kingdom managed to end the war relatively unscathed. With their towns and cities untouched by empire steel, the nobility have been able to continue their rule in relative comfort and wealth compared to the other kingdoms. The kingdom's economy has thus swelled without the pressure of recovering from the war, allowing merchants to trade large volumes of resources to other kingdoms at a sizeable profit. Focusing trade efforts on the Diamond Kingdom, wealth acquisition and technological research have both increased particularly quickly. Putting its wealth to good use, the royalty have sought to improve society throughout the kingdom and have raised the quality of living for its people. With general content amongst the people, bandits, raiders and pirates have seen a decline in activity and general poverty has shrunk.

This stability has made them somewhat more amicable to the royalty, tempering their otherwise fiery attitudes to change. With the change in slavery policy happening years ago, there are many that are still discontent with the decision made by Queen Mortemiah. Illegal slave trade still continues behind closed doors, but lobbying for a repeal has died down as time has passed. Many nobles disapprove of the choice to invest in Argossian technology, viewing it as favouring the tools of the enemy and slighting Stryker's traditions. With a strong economy and military left over from the war, a large portion of the nobles and lords are calling for war with the other kingdoms of Ornare. Wishing to claim lands they feel belong to the Spade Kingdom, pressure is being put on the king to draw up plans for the invasion of their neighbours.

In the Southern city of Linheimr, the dwarves are expressing discontent with remaining under the rule of the Spade Kingdom. Rallying under the Dwarf King, they desire independance from Suits control and wish to establish their own kingdom. This has sparked heavy rivalry between the dwarves and the human nobles local to the city, discrimination and prejudice to subhumans and dwarves rising violently. The dwarves, while small in population, have apparently finished construction of a new line of large-scale manatech that they intend to defend themselves with should the nobility become openly hostile, which appears to be happening soon. If the royalty do not defuse this bomb, it is speculated that a new war will indeed find its way to the Spade Kingdom without the involvement of the king's plans.

The loss of the Deep Piercer still pains the Spades people to this day and many are calling for retribution to be had on the Jokers. Having no artefacts to speak of, many adventurers have sought to take matters into their own hands and search for one to reclaim glory for the kingdom. As such there has been a surge of visitors in locations such as Yisstra's Grove and other potential locations of interest. Taking interest in this, the Mercenary Guild has begun offering rewards for information or sightings of the rumoured artefacts. The Merchants Guild has begun offering similar rewards, their influence over the Spade Kingdom growing ever stronger with the blooming economy.

~~~​

The date is the 1st of August, 1000 ASF. The Devils Due festival will be occurring across Ornare in the next couple of weeks and preparations are being made for the big event. Intended to terrify the demon race into thinking twice about attempting to invade Ornare again, this tradition sees people of all ranks and class dressing up in demonic costumes and masks to duel for the entertainment of passerbys. Of course, the sparring is merely for show and greivously maiming others is illegal. On this day, streets will be flooded with stalls and people enjoying the festival and the culture of their history. However, the royalty have other matters to attend to...

In Valencia, the royalty of the Four Suits Kingdoms have gathered to discuss the future of Ornare. Following a five-year non-aggression treaty, of which the treaty has now run its course, diplomacy anew is to be waged in discourse with the kingdom's leaderships. With the looming threat of the Argossian Empire now a thing of the past, many wonder what the fate of Ornare holds for those that still inhabit it. The nobility and the people of each kingdom have their wants and desires, leaving it up to the royals to determine what the future holds for everyone. And on the horizon lurks scheming forces beyond the understanding of mortal minds. All of this and more in...

Four Suits: Of Gods & Devils

​

 

[Coyote Hart]

​

The following collab takes place five years ago, right after the end of the Battle at Valencia.

​

The aftermath of the battle of Valencia was gruesome. The healer’s tent was full of the injured, who moaned and groaned in pain as the overworked mages tended to their wounds. The battlefield was even worse. The ground was peppered with bullets, the trees, grass, and any of the structures were charred, destroyed, and disfigured beyond recognition. Crystals littered the landscape from the excessive amount of mana used, and the air was thick with the taste of magic and gunpowder.

Near one of the craggy rocks in the rubbles of Valencia, which was one of the advantageous positions for any coalition soldier lucky enough to snag the spot, was the collapsed figure of the King of Diamonds, Arimand Argus Dornwell and the Ace of Diamonds, William Rundell Haus Code. Quillon stood above the two, watching his collapsed opponent. Lloyd and his two shortswords were nowhere to be seen. Near Arimand was Bob.

However, in Arimand’s eyes, he wasn’t collapsed. Instead, he was standing in a world slow and monochrome. William was also not collapsed on the ground, instead, he watched Arimand, his expression unreadable.

After a moment of silence, Arimand spoke, his voice angry and confused: “Why?”

William didn’t respond, instead, he glanced off to the side at Quillon, who stood over William’s unconscious form. Arimand felt even more confused, seeing the two Williams.

“Why?” Arimand repeated, “Why would you do this? Why would you betray us all?”

The second William shook his head, “I have been manipulated by a greater power. Every time, the events of today alter the course of history drastically.”

The second William paused, then looked back at Arimand, “You have greater issues at the present, however..."

"A greater power? You couldn't possibly mean...And how many times has this happened?" Ari looks around himself, seemingly to search for something, "The battle is won, the war is over. What even greater issue could I have?"

Then, at that moment, Arimand noticed his body, which was collapsed on the ground. Shock permeated his soul, and Arimand uttered with surprise, “Wha--?”

"You have died, Arimand,” William said, turning around to face the setting sun, “We are now in the Realm of the Dead."

"Impossible!” Arimand protested, “I was uninjured and still had some mana left. There was no one to attack me! How am I dead?"

William waited a moment for Arimand to calm down, then he spoke simply, “Mana Sickness.”

For miles to see, a curtain of gray mist hung in the distance. Even Valencia was obscured from afar in the dull light. The sun was muted and covered by clouds that did not move. Within the mist, Ari could almost make out the shadows of... something moving around.

"I...I can't believe it. There...I wasn't casting spells...except for...And what is that?" Arimand babbled in shock as he pointed at the gray mist.

William followed Arimand’s gesture, and he explained emotionlessly, “Spirits of the dead. Many from this battle. They will be leaving for Deim's Plains soon.”

"...Huh...Deim is his name then...But why are you here? You didn't seem nearly as dead as me."

William looked back at his unconscious form and frowned, “That William is just unconscious.”

He turned back to Ari and crossed his arms, "I opened a portal into this realm."

"You...you aren't...But then...Who...Why???" Ari stuttered while he pointed between the two Williams. His mind had finally become overwhelmed.

The second William raised a hand to stem the wave of confusion flowing from the young king, "Enough questions. I have come to offer you a chance at salvation, Arimand. Spirits that do not find their way to Lord Deim's Palace are hunted by his Spectral Reapers. You do not have much time."

“... I don’t have a choice,” Arimand said, hanging his head in defeat. He realized this was likely his second deal today. “What is it?”

"In this reality, the current Queen of Hearts successfully completed the crafting of a reviving spell. She will have a few years yet before Dorian and his Disciples notice. I can bring her and a healer of the body here to restore you to life.”

Arimand grimaced, “...I would rather not, but too much depends on me. I agree to it.”

William looked back over at the unconscious William, then up at Quillion, "I need you to convince the Ace of Spades not to look into my memories. When you reawaken, convince him to erase the events of today and nothing more."

"That I can do,” Arimand responded, “I doubt he would question me..."

William nodded and looked back at Arimand, this time through him and at his body back in the Mortal Realm, "Then let us hope this is a time where these two succeed..."

A portal opened in front of William, which transported him to Guin’s location, where she was in the middle of writing up reports.

Upon seeing him, Guin immediately pulled out one of her guns and pointed it at the Ace of Diamonds and demanded, “You! How the hell is a traitor like you alive right now, Code?!”

The portal closed behind Guin, and although William had a gun pointed at him, he remained placid, “Guineverre. I have a favor to ask of you.”

"Why would I help you after everything you've done!?" Guin spat, practically seething with anger at the sight of the Ace of Diamonds. It wouldn’t be difficult to guess why. The Ace of Diamond’s actions of destroying Valencia and killing hundreds of Guin’s people was like a direct stab to her heart, and that wound was bubbling with untethered, ferocious rage. Her hands shook as she pointed her weapon at William.

William's brow creased as if he wanted to frown, but refrained and instead bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Forgive him. He has been manipulated by forces greater than himself."

Confusion crossed the Queen's face. "Him? What are you talking about?" She wondered if the man officially lost his mind.

"I am not the same William you know," It was all the explanation he seemed to be willing to offer the queen. He crossed his arms and continued, "I must ask you to save the life of the King of Diamonds. Please."

"King Dornwell?" She was growing more and more confused by the second. "Why? The war has been won, the empire is retreating..." She paused, realization dawning onto her face. "He's dead, isn't he?"

William nodded resolutely, "Yes. And you are the only one with the knowledge to revive him."

Suspicious, the queen narrowed her eyes at him. "And how did you know that?"

"As I said, I am not the William you know. I have seen many futures where you have or have not achieved your goal," The way he ended the sentence emphasised he was aware of what she desired too. Of what was taken from her.

Guin paused, her eyes widening as she absorbed each and every one of his words. "My goal...," her lips were quivering, her anger flushing out of her, "It's possible after all." She looked at him once again. With this grand display of power, freezing time itself, what he was claiming wouldn't be a shot in the dark.

"...Then you must know how I can achieve my goal?" Guin asked.

He nodded, "There are many ways to reunite with your kin. I have seen you walk every path possible to do so."

“Then tell me how!" She cried. "Help me!"

William did frown this time. The look on his face remained neutral, but somewhat strained now.

"I cannot," His mouth curled down at the corners with distaste, "There are also forces greater than I preventing me from doing so."

She stared at him for a moment in disbelief before letting out a bitter laugh. "This is bullshit." She said, not giving a damn if she was breaking her facade. "You came to me and told me all these things, only to deprive me of the answer I’ve been looking for all my life." She clenched her fists. "And you expect me to help you?"

"Yes," William responded flatly, clearly not enjoying their conversation either, "I have come to offer what I can in recompense. Time follows a very specific line. If I alter it too much, I will attract the attention of more nefarious entities."

Doubt still lingered in her face. "And what can you offer?"

William paused for a moment and looked away, apparently debating something in his mind. He looked back, "Two minutes with your family. I will bring them here for that time and then return them."

Guin felt her world froze as she gaped at William. For so long, she has dreamed and waited for the time she'll be reunited with her family. "...You promise?" She weakly muttered.

William nodded and offered a hand to shake, "A promise made with mortals is not one I can break."

The Queen locked gazes with him for a few moments before reaching out for his hand. She was reluctant and doubtful; she knew this man could easily be telling lies and he could reveal her true nature to the entire world. But Guin has said it over and over again: she will do anything for her family, "Very well."

The two locked hands and a powerful aura of mana washed out from their grasp. William then withdrew his hand and nodded.

"What was that glow?" Guin asked with confusion as she immediately retracted her hand.

"A promise sealed in magic. A spell made by a god that abhors deceit." William regarded Guin with his eyes in silence for a moment, reading into her countenance. "I will summon them now."

William raised a hand and a point of mana began to gather at his palm, radiating intense waves of magic. His eyes were cool and collected.

"I will take your family from a timeline moments before they were destroyed, one where you failed to reunite with them," He said, his eyes remained unfaltering, "This is the last they will ever see of you."

Guin marveled at the display of magic, silently wishing she could do the same thing as him. However, his words once again caught her off guard and made her stand still frozen. There were hundreds of things she wanted to tell them; she spent hours upon hours thinking of what she would say to them if she was given the chance to travel back in time. But now, here it was, the moment she has been long waiting for...

"Please," she whispered, "I'm ready. Show them to me. I just want to see them again." There were tears threatening to slip from the corners of her eyes.

William did not respond but instead looked away to hide his expression. A portal descended over him and he disappeared. Then another portal appeared before the Queen of Hearts, bringing her to her loved ones.

~​

After some time, when the two minutes had run its course, a portal appeared above Guin, swallowing her whole. Moments later, Guin was delivered next to Arimand's body alongside Twig, who had apparently also received transportation. Time unfroze itself.

"Now, Amy, make sure that you swap out the bandage every fiv--" Twig instructed, before suddenly stopping as he realized he was no longer in the healer’s tent. He looked around in confusion, wondering where in the world he was.

"Twig, I need you to listen to me." Guin said as she approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "King Dornwell is dead. We're bringing him back to life."

Twig jumped in surprise when he felt Guin's hands land on his shoulders, and he turned around to face Guin.

"What do you mean?" Twig asked, still clearly disoriented, "Arimand is dead? And what do you mean 'bring back to life'? Isn't it better that he stays dead? How would you even bring him back?"

"Please," she looked at him, desperation present in the queen's eyes, "Just help me, Twig, we don’t have much time." Her head hung low and her shoulders shook.

"I..." Twig hesitated as he looked at Guin's frankly uncharacteristic visage. She didn't look like her usual composed self, as if something had disturbed her. Twig nodded to Guin, "Alright, I trust your judgment. How are we doing this?"

Once Twig has been properly informed of his part, Guin placed two fingers on Arimand's pulse. She could feel nothing except the coldness of his skin; the king was really dead. She paused to look at his lifeless form, memories of him barking orders and whatnot resurfacing in her mind. He sounded so high and mighty then. Yet now, here he was lying in front of her. Silent and inert. Helpless. A dead reminder that each and every one of them bleeds at the end of the day.

There was no denying it. She preferred him this way. Alas, she made a deal. One which she would honor regardless of her preferences.

She then closed her eyes and braced herself. The process won’t be pretty for either of them, but what must be done should be done. She faced the unmoving sky, her arms extending as if she was beckoning unknown forces to come to her. Slowly, her eyes and hands glowed an ethereal blue, foreign words escaping her lips as she began casting her spell.

“Lacentem antequam me; A mortuo rege
Pellis frigus oculis frigidus ultra spiritum
Sed contra sto mortem; magus mortis, ego sum...”

As Guin began her enigmatic ritual to resurrect Arimand, Twig realized that he hadn't looked around the environment much. Twig didn't recognize where they were, mostly because of all the rubble and destruction by the hands of the Ace of Diamonds.

Speaking of which, as Twig looked around and charged up a healing spell, he noticed that the Ace of Diamonds himself was laying on the ground, unconscious. Next to him were two skulls which Twig recognized as the artefacts that the Ace carried around.

His eyes narrowed. The Ace of Diamonds had obviously used the artefact in his rampage against the city. Twig felt a sudden rare bout of anger towards the Ace of Diamonds. How dare he sacrifice so many lives, as if they weren’t even living beings? Twig reached down and slipped the two skulls into his doctor bag. The Ace of Diamonds didn't need to cause any more damage using them.

“...Anima mea, mercedem meam
Da huic vitae rex mortuus est,
Salvum illum; haec inutilia fragmen stercore!”

Guin drew out a long gasp at the end of her chant. Pain spread throughout her body as she unleashed a great amount of mana, her magic seeking the king's soul before she fell onto the ground, unconscious.

"Guin!" Twig ran over to the Queen's unconscious body as soon as she collapsed. He placed a hand on Guin's shoulder and was relieved when he felt the signs of mana still in her. But he couldn't assist Guin right now; she had told Twig that Arimand needed healing to keep him alive.

Twig raised Pemulihan, a gentle golden light illuminating the orb of the gnarled staff as healing magic washed over Arimand's collapsed body. As he carefully watched the King's body, Twig reached into his bag to procure a manastone, filled with healing mana. He absolutely disliked the muddy taste of foreign mana, but he was ready to absorb the mana if Arimand needed more healing.

For Arimand, after he made the deal with William, everything went very fast. William disappeared in front of him and he found himself trapped in a cold and dark place. It felt like ages, being trapped in a suffocating prison with no escape. Pain riddled him as his soul wanted to tear itself free once more. But then, a soothing wave washed over him.

Arimand suddenly opened his eyes and his torso bolted upwards, nearly crashing heads with Twig as Ari took deep, panicked breaths. Still in shock, he looked around. Taking in the chaos around him in, Ari began to stutter: "Wha-...Where..Is she?...Who?..."

"Take it easy," Twig said soothingly as he put a steadying hand on Arimand's shoulder, "You went to Deim's Door, but you're safe now. You're back in the world of the living."

"I..I am back?" Ari touched his body, still not quite believing that he was dead a few seconds ago. Everything was still there, and everything was still in pain. He winced a bit before steeling himself. As Ari slowly got up, his eyes darted between Quill and William’s and Guin’s unconscious bodies. "...Will she be fine? And thanks, I owe you two my life now..."

Twig noticed Arimand's wince of pain as he got up, and Twig immediately raised his staff once again, a weak golden light illuminating from the orb as he used most of what he had left to grant Arimand some relief. He offered a shoulder for Arimand to lean on as he stumbled around. Bob, who would’ve rushed forward to help out Arimand, stayed back upon seeing that Twig was there to lend Arimand a hand.

"She'll be fine," Twig leaned on his staff, exhausted, "I think she just needs some rest."

"Please, next time be more careful with yourself," Twig entreated, "Don't use more than two mana refills. Your kingdom needs you alive to lead."

Nearly falling over, Arimand swung his arm around Twig to steady himself. The healing spell felt like he was never healed before in his life, but his body was still weak, "...I...I...Thanks...I...Please...I...Only used two...Get me to..."

As the two stumbled forward, Arimand took another deep breath and calmed himself down as far as he could. Sweat began to pour down Arimand’s forehead, "...Please get me to William."

"Perhaps you should stick with using one at most next time then," Twig said worriedly. With Arimand leaning on his shoulder and Twig leaning on his staff, he helped Arimand walk over to the unconscious and collapsed William.

Quillon knelt over the unmoving body of his opponent.. ally.. friend. He looked towards the sky and allowed the sun to bask his face in its warmth, which left only a tickle across his skin where frost had razed his cheeks a tinge of blue. His lips parted to release a soft sigh of relief, finally feeling redemption after Parma.

"Parma.." He thought to himself and was reminded of everything that had transpired since then. From waking up in an infirmary in the Diamond capital to being told he was to be executed for his war crimes, and instead to the exile that William had fought for him. While he would never say he had enjoyed the exile, he knew he had been indebted to the boy who lay before him, indebted with his life. The boy who, despite contesting every little thing Quillon ever said, he was the one person Quillon knew could prove him wrong.

Quillon raised his hand over William's head, ready to peer into his unconscious mind. He wanted to know. He had to know. There's nothing that could have convinced Quillon that after all this time, they had all been wrong. But it had convinced him.

A sound of heavy thudding against the rubble of battle drew Quillon from casting his spell, and he turned his head away from the body that lay in front of him to spot them. He immediately began to channel the dregs of what remained of his mana, if not to scare off any intruders, but to protect the spoils of his victory.

An unfamiliar figure made their way ever closer, accompanied by the face of Twig, one of the royals he remembered had accompanied him at Parma. Despite them appearing to be allies, Quillon remained unrelenting on his wariness and said nothing.

"I don't think he's dead, but I don't have the mana to heal him," Twig said as he looked down at William's body. As much as he wanted to criticize Arimand for letting William go berserk, he knew this wasn't the time.

Arimand let himself fall on his hands and knees, sweat dripping down on his entire body. His nose started to bleed and his body was still shaking. Arimand remembers what it's like, being dead and seeing his own body beside him. He remembers his conversation with the other Will, and what he must do next. Lifting his head, he addressed both Twig and Quill: "...William is still alive...Don't...don't...ha-...kill him...Please..."

After a small breathing pause, he continued, "He...Was influenced. He couldn't...couldn't do anything against it...Please Quill...Don't look into his memories...But erase today...That...That will...Bring him ba-"

Quillon's eyes danced in judgement of the stranger as he was requested not to seek out his own answers, but to simply do away with them. A request that would leave him forever unknowing of what had caused his ally to create such chaos and rampancy, and to undergo such a task that completely contradicted that beratement that Quillon had received from him years ago.

With that Ari nearly fell unconscious again, but instead collapsed to his side and simply shut his eyes. He was safe now, and alive. Everything would be fine…

"King Dornwell!" Twig said in admonishment, "Take it easy! Your body is in a very fragile state right now!"

Twig reached into his bag and whipped out a spare handkerchief, which he used to wipe away the blood pooling out of Arimand's nose to prevent him from choking on his own blood while unconscious.

Folding up the handkerchief nicely, Twig turned to face Quillon, who he had just noticed, "Well met, Quillon Downs. Do you believe what King Dornwell is saying?"

Quillon's eyes narrowed, now able to put a name to the face who had the audacity to request such a thing from him.

"Tch. You're requesting a lot, king. Luckily for you, I was already planning to fix this brat's mind." Quillon's voice hitched in his throat, exhaustion from his battle so painful, it felt as if the frost from the battle had wormed their way into his lungs and found their home there, like William himself was telling him to continue down this road.

While his hand remained over William's head, Quillon began to grit his teeth. Hopefully not going to regret his decision, he continued, "So tell me why.." With his eyes locked on Arimand, Quillon cast a spell over the king with the little mana he had managed to charge. A spell that would infiltrate his memories and mind, until Quillon could discover what drove this weakened man all the way here.

Arimand was too exhausted to notice anything around him until powerful psychic mana crashed into his mind.

"This might as well be happening..." were his last thoughts before succumbing to unconsciousness.

As Quill entered Arimands mind, he found himself surrounded by darkness.

"Welcome to my mind."

A voice rang out from everywhere at once and Arimand appeared before him.

"You are here to know who I am and why I requested what I did, correct?”

“I didn’t come here to ask questions.” Quillon voiced, intent on ripping away at the information he wanted. He found no use in restricting himself to simply the answers that the king was going to provide him.

Quillon stepped forward, his hand raised and reaching towards the center of Arimand’s forehead. The tips of his fingers crashed against the king’s forehead, and a deft silence fell between the two as Quillon expected himself to be able to force himself through more memories.

Yet there was nothing. Quillon’s eyes widened, and he cursed beneath his breath with his fingertips still pressed firmly against the king’s head. He had underestimated the king’s resistance to him and hadn’t broken through with enough mana. At this rate, he would only be able to see what Arimand allowed.

"Ah, now, now, don't be so stubborn. I can't really resist you anyways."

Arimand pulled away Quill’s hand and dark, swiveling colors appeared around them.

"There is a lot to talk about after all. So let us start at the beginning, Quillon."

With a snap of Arimands fingers, the two found themselves at a ceremony. It is a small one, but Quill can make out that they must be high ranking nobles. In the front is Arimand standing, proud but with his usual cold expression. The Arimand next to Quill disappears and the one in the front turns to Quill and begins to talk.

"I am Arimand Argus Dornwell, King of the Diamond Kingdom. This was when I got officially declared King. But more importantly to you..."

With a bow, the scenery changes once more. Arimand is now sitting in a comfortable armchair, opposite to William. Both of them are chatting and sipping tea. Arimand turns away to Quill once more.

"I work closely with William. We both get along greatly as you can see."

With a deep sigh, Arimand continued.

"But that is not why you are here, right? Please understand that you must see the bigger picture for it all to make sense...As far as I know, you were still here at the beginning of the war, so I won't need to fill you in with that. However..."

The two find themselves in a war room in Valencia, in front of them a map with all of the borders and the progress of the Argossians.

"As you can see, my Kingdom is demolished. But still, the four nations united and after some debate, I have been declared the acting commander of our united forces."

The memories of how this day started flooded past them, glimpses of his morning, the meeting and the start of the battle can be seen before they find themselves looking over the battlefield. Arimand is flying with his shield and the Wyrm as well as the War Engine can be seen.

"Today was the day of our last stand and I was leading it. As you can see, things went a lot worse than anyone could have expected. But that isn't the worst of it all."

Pain and sorrow swept over them, as Ari fell from his shield, nearly to his death. It continued as he nearly broke down commanding the forces. Only glimpses could be seen each time, but the next thing was more clear:

A meeting, debating William’s role in the battle. him leaving, and Arimand not being able to contact him. A massive boom as Williams aura and ice attacks hit the battlefield. And now, Ari screaming into William’s mind.

"William Rundell Haus Code! What in the name of James Stryker are you doing? You are supposed to protect and aid these people, not decimate them! Justify yourself! NOW!"

And Williams responded: "You would not comprehend why. This is what's best for our people."

"For survival,” William finished, as he turned his back on the King of Diamonds.

Then, an attack directed at Arimand and his troops directly could be seen.

The scene faded away into the background, but the coldness remained.

"You see now why I needed to show you all of this? Why did I felt just as betrayed and confused as you? Why it must have happened today?"

While he was immediately confused as to why the king was showing him so far into his past, Quillon continued to watch each scene intently for some kind of trend. His point. Something. One thing he dreaded intercepting one’s thoughts were never coming with enough mana, and being left to their devices.

But soon, they came closer and closer to the current time, until finally, they were in the middle of the battle. They arrived at the point in the war where Quillon could see from where Arimand stood, where Quillon and Lloyd first engaged the rogue Ace.

As William’s apocalyptic strike rained down from above, Quillon could only watch as a large barrage of ice spikes came directly towards them.

Quillon rose his arm over his head in defense, only for nothing to strike him. He looked back to see himself surrounded in darkness once again, and the figure of Arimand once again revealing himself.

“William. I don’t care for you or your history. I’m here to learn why, not your feelings or betrayal and loss.”

"I am giving you a reason to trust me and my words, but I see that everything that I have learned about you is true. Very well then, you won't like what you learn next..."

Quillion found himself looking through Arimand's eyes. The world around him looked dark, grey, and fogged. A chill wrapped around him, but no wind could be felt. In the distance, spectral shadows drifted in the mist. The spirits of the fallen. Quillon became instantly curious as to how such a place came to exist within the kingdoms. He was interrupted as Arimand's eyes focused on someone beside him. It was... William. Somehow unharmed, although his demeanor seemed different. Less cold.

A minute or so of conversation passed and it seemed as though Arimand and the second William has reached the crux of their meeting. The second William wanted Arimand to convince Quillion exactly of what Arimand had claimed. Before they could into detail, however, something odd happened.

Both of them stopped talking and William seemed to gaze deeply into Arimand's eyes... No, into Quillions. He said nothing but rose a finger to his lips cryptically. He told him that for once Quillon would have to deal with simply not knowing, and listen, something Quillon was never fairly capable of doing. And then Quillion was ejected from the dreamscape.

The next moment, he was again kneeling in front of William's motionless body, the figures of Arimand and Twig standing before him. Arimand had long since succumbed to his frailty. Twig, having recovered enough stamina while Quillon had delved into Arimand's mind, was standing in a cautious stance, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed ornate smallsword. He didn't completely trust Quillon since he didn't have any obligation to work with the Suits. He had been found guilty of horrid crimes and rightfully been sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment.

But, seeing as Quillon didn't intend any harm on the King of Diamonds, Twig's grip on his sword relaxed.

"So," Twig asked the former Ace of Spades, "What did you learn? What do you plan to do?"

Quillon locked eyes with the healing royal, leaving his question unanswered. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Quillon suddenly acted like he was making a lunge and grab for the two royals in front of him. It was over as quick as it began, Quillon never having left William's side and still kneeling at his side. A feint of an attack, and a joke, even if it was in bad taste.

"Calm yourself, Twig. You act like I'm in any state to hurt you. Besides, what's that tiny dagger of yours supposed to do." Quillon said with a low chuckle.

Twig jolted in surprise when the attack came, and he drew his ornate shortsword, a burst of dysidia catching on the blade as Twig lunged and hit the air where he thought Quillon would be, except he hadn't even moved. Sheepishly, Twig sheathed his sword.

"To be honest, I think you could still beat me up in your state," Twig said shakily, "Please don't tell anybody what you just saw."

Quillon once again placed his hands over William's head and took in a deep breath. He knew that once he erased the memories from William, they would be gone forever. Quillon would never get an opportunity to learn why again unless there was another witness as to what drove William so.

With William unable to fight him off, Quillon didn't have to charge very much mana to cast any spells. There was a momentary shift in his own mana, he looked towards William for a split second and then back towards Twig.

"It's done. He won't remember a thing from today, so make sure the king fills him in. I'm expecting the king to return the favor one of these days, so make sure he's well aware."

Quillon took one last look at the fallen ace and shook his head, still doubtful that he had made the right decision in simply erasing those memories. But there were no retrieving them from his point on. "And make sure he gets healed. He missed his last visit in that little realm of his, I'm owed a tea."

Quillon pushed himself up and off of his knees, bringing himself to a pained stand. His fingers revealed a frostbitten shade of blue, he hid them behind his body to avoid the sideways glances from the healer.

Quillon had a family to visit.

"I hope you made the right choice there," Twig said to Quillon. This had been quite a rollercoaster of a ride. He had suddenly been yanked away from his duties at the healer's tent and promptly plopped down, was informed by Guin that she suddenly had the power to bring back the dead, watched Arimand badly explain some traumatic experience he had in the land of the dead, and watched the former Ace of Spades, who Twig had never expected to see again, erase the memory of the Ace of Diamonds. Whatever Will's reason for blowing up the city, it was lost now.

Twig grasped his manastone and sapped the power from it. It tasted muddy and disgusting. The stone glowed the same golden color as when he used Pemulihan, and a bright dash of golden light fell upon William's body.

"Where will you go now?" Twig asked Quillon as he healed William.

"I'm exiled, remember? Anywhere out of their sight before they come to." Quillon said with a small wink.

He watched as the healer began to work his magic, healing the fallen ace with an almost calming aura that differed from all the malicious mana that surrounded them from the war. He would have stayed to bask in it longer if he knew that it'd be against his best interest.

"I'm hoping I made the right choice too. Not looking forward to dealing with William running rampant like that again." Quillon turned away from the royals, unconscious or not, and began to make his way to the edges of the battlefield. "You can answer my questions later. But for now, I won't tell a soul." Soon, it was apparent that he did depart, leaving Twig the only one conscious with the two other mages.

"So long, Quillon," Twig waved, even though Quillon had already been long gone. Twig stared at the three incapacitated bodies lying in their three separate heaps. He doubted that someone as skin and bones as he could manage to carry them all. Twig knew that he could probably carry Guin, but Arimand was far too tall for Twig and Will was probably much heavier than he looked. He also simply didn't have the mana to heal any of them anymore. If he continued, he'd likely get mana sickness.

Twig unsteadily boosted himself off of the ground slightly to give himself a better vantage point. When he realized where he was, he landed back on the ground and called for a telepath, informing them of his location and that he needed help transporting three royals to the healer’s tent.

As he sat on a rock, monitoring the three royals and waiting for help to arrive, he wondered what enigmatic force drew the strings behind this strange meetup. What outside force was strong enough to control the Ace of Diamonds? What sorts of things did Quillon see in Arimand's head? And why was Guin so duty-bound to do something so out of character as to save the enemy? What sorts of magic had she been practicing for the past three years while Twig had been learning how to manipulate dysidia and use Yi Fenca?

A group of healers was approaching from the edge of Twig's sight, and he stood up to wave them over. The questions in Twig's mind would have to be answered another day

Credits:
William - Kloudy
Arimand - Mechking
Guin - . D O V E
Twig - Coyote Hart
Quillon - SentinelSevn

 

[. D O V E]

Spoiler: My darling girl

A Stolen Time
BG Music​

Sparks often go unnoticed. It’s easy for something so small and simple to be overlooked; after all, what are sparks but tiny fragments thrown off from a much larger, fiercer fire? When stones and steels collide, you don’t let these fiery chips deter you. Though they may land on your skin, they’re more bark than bite. The worse they can do is leave a small blister even the most inexperienced of healers can fix. In the end, you’ll continue striking stones in pursuit of fire, knowing full-well that sparks hardly ever matter.


“I hate tomatoes…” A small girl murmured from one side of the table; blonde locks cascading down her dropped shoulders as her sanguine eyes dulled with disinterest. In front of her was a plate filled with a hefty meal- a plump, roasted chicken leg on one side, a creamy serving of mashed potato on the other, and a few slices of different vegetables at the center. But what made the dish even more colorful though was the glaringly red slices of tomatoes on top.

“Now, now, Guin, what did mommy tell you?” A woman who appeared to be in her early forties with an equally bright hair spoke from beside, her fine brow cocking at her said daughter. “It is improper for a lady to grumble in front of her food.”

“But they taste really weird. It’s like they’re sour but not really…” Guin continued, her fork stabbing a slice only to bring it closer to her scrutinizing eyes. “Besides, I’m not yet a lady. I’m twelve.”

“Oh, but soon you’ll be.” Her mother said with a tender smile before picking a tomato from her own plate. “And when you do, you’ll be the most beautiful and most refined lady in the entireeeee four kingdoms.” She added while her fork playfully made its way towards the child, making drastic swirls and zigzags. “Here comes an airship!”

Guin laughed at this and opened her mouth, all her complaints instantly withering at the sight of her mother’s silly antics. She joyfully munched on the food at first until she realized she had been bamboozled, at which part her face quickly wrinkled with disgust.

As if on cue, a hearty laugh erupted from across, causing Guin to shoot daggers at her own brother with her eyes. “Oh yes of course! My little sister will definitely be the most sought after bachelorette in the entire Yune. I mean, just look at her wrinkly face! Hah!” For someone who was in his twenties, this man sure knew how to instantly upset a twelve-year old. “Oooh! I bet you’re gonna get married to that little boyfriend of yours. The Ace’s son, Leolin, wasn’t it?”

The girl visibly flushed red. “Lion is just my friend!”

“Oooh, pet names! Guinny has a crush! Guinny has a crush!” He said in a sing-song voice, obviously keen on teasing the light out of her.

“I do not! Mom, you tell Lance to stop being a meanie!” She flung her attention to the woman.

However, she only tilted her head as if in serious thought. “I wouldn’t be against that actually. The Blancas and the Hravarts have been friends for countless years. If anything, your union would only strengthen the houses’ relationship.”

“Mom, how could you?!” Betrayed and desperate, Guin turned to the last occupant of the room- a burly man with a deeper shade of golden locks and a long scar across the left side of his face. “Dad, tell them to stop!”

Her dad almost choked on his food. He let out a nervous chuckle before clearing his throat, his face donning the toughest expression he could muster. “Alessandra, Lance, stop that. Guin is my darling little girl. I won’t let anyone touch her ‘till she reaches the age of… hmmm… fifty, perhaps?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Guin threw her hands up in the air, although this only earned her more fits of laughter. “You’re all ridiculous…” She sighed.

“See? Told you it was a crush.” Lance smugly grinned.

“No, it’s not. It’s just that…,” Guin trailed off and glared at her plate, “...I don’t have other friends. Lion is the only one who wants to play with me… The other children at school just call me weird. They don’t understand me.”

The little girl’s statement caught the chatty family off-guard. A heavy silence lingered in the room until Alessandra stood up and wrapped her hands around her youngest. She pressed her closer into a tight hug.

“Sweetie, please cheer up…,” she whispered gently, “It’s not the end of the world. There’s still a morrow. Remember our house’s saying?”

“The dawn follows the night…”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of friends when you grow up. People will see and understand just how much of an amazing, beautiful, and clever girl you truly are. And when they do, they’ll stand by your side no matter what. They’ll make you smile when you’re sad, guide you when you’re lost, pick you up when you fall, and you’ll do lots and lots of incredible things together. And sure, not everyone might like you. There’ll be some who’ll pick on you, make you cry and want to give up, but just always remember that you’re never alone.” She rocked the child a little bit. “You have us, your family.”

Guin warmly smiled at this as she peeked from her mother’s embrace and saw the smiling faces of her brother and father. She closed her eyes and basked at the warmth. She had never felt so loved.

“Okay…” She softly murmured. “You, Lion, and my future friends will never leave me?”

Alessandra let out a short laugh. “Of course! Especially if you finish your tomatoes.”

“Mom’s right, sis. Legends say if you keep on eating tomatoes, you’ll get your true heart's desire.” Lance snickered before shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

“And, if you promise to keep on eating your tomatoes, I promise to take the family to Valencia. I’ll even show you the airships we’re working on.” Her father winked with a smile.

Guin crunched her forehead thoughtfully at this. “Okay, I promise.” She detached herself from her mother and grabbed her fork, eyeing the red fruits on her plate. She brought a piece to her mouth, eyes closing. Somehow, the tomatoes tasted very different now. It was still sour and slimy, but she could now detect a tinge of sweetness. “I guess tomatoes aren’t so bad after all.” She muttered to herself.

“Lord Gerardo Blanca,” A servant bowed and called from the dining’s doorway. “You have a guest, sir.”

“Oh?” Her father wiped his hands and mouth clean before standing up. “I’m not expecting anyone tonight. Who is it?”

“The Ace of Hearts.”



Sparks. Sparks often go unnoticed. And sometimes, when they do get noticed, it’s usually already too late. So when the Blanca mansion burned from roof to ground on that dreadful night, along with most of the family and their servants, the then Ace of Hearts never noticed the small spark that got away.

Neither did he notice the brief moment when time stood still.


BG Music 2


War and victory, death and revival, gods and betrayals; the hills of Valencia have seen plenty of things. Stories that most of which would go down the history of Ornare- to be sung in ballads, written into books, and passed onto children. Legendary moments that happened in the city of Valencia except for one- a few stolen minutes between a daughter and her long dead family.

Guin’s breath hitched when the portal opened before her. Every inch of her body trembled as she anxiously stared upon its bluish swirls; sanguine eyes desperately looking for the slightest signs of movement. The Ace of Diamonds was no longer in her vicinity, and she felt so helpless and alone amidst the stillness of everything. A small part of her still doubted if any of these were actually real- perhaps she had died during the battle or had finally gone insane? She couldn’t explain any of these happenings exactly, but the bigger part of her wanted to believe. She wanted to believe that this… this was real. She would finally be with her family once again. She would finally feel their warmth and embrace, tell them everything she has been wishing she had told them all those years ago.

Even just for a moment....

“Please…,” she breathed in, eagerly hoping that none of these was a sick trick and they’d just hurry up and come out of the portal because damn it, this was everything she has been waiting for all her life. Everything she has done, all the sacrifices she had made, all of those were for one reason alone: her family.

Finally, three figures emerged from the portal and Guin felt every air in her lungs escape.

“W-What happened!? Where’s the bastard!?” The first one was a young man with sharp, red eyes and short, yellow mane; his hands tightly gripping onto the hilt of his sheathed sword.

The second one was an older and much larger man, his facial features an exact split of the first one if it weren’t for the giant scar running from the top side of his left forehead until the corner of his lips. “What the hell are you doing here!? Didn’t I tell you to get your sister to safety?”

The last one was a woman, beautiful as a golden rose. Unlike the two men seething with rage, her face displayed nothing but fear. “W-Where’s Guin!?”

“I-I teleported her outside then I returned...” The young man stammered.

In fury, the older one grabbed him by the collar. “By gods, Lance! I told you to protect your sister-”

“Gerardo, where is our daughter!?” The third one miserably cried.

And at long last, Guin’s shaking legs brought her towards them. “M-mom… dad…. Lance…,” she whispered with quivering lips before pulling them into an embrace. This was it. This was real. The warmth she has long been missing, the feeling of them in her arms- for the first time in fifteen years, Guin felt complete. “Mom, dad, Lance!” She repeatedly loudly, cracking under the pressure of her emotions as they surged. Tears streamed down her flushed face as she cried out loud; the sound obnoxious and miserable- as though they weren’t coming from the regal Queen of Hearts herself but a helpless child.

“W-Who…?” Lance choked out while their parents kept still.

Guin pulled away, looking each of them in the eyes. They were understandably confused. She was twelve the last time they saw her. “It’s me…,” she sobbed, “I’m Guin...”

“...Guin? I- I don’t understand. Why are you all grown up… and where…,” Lord Gerardo looked around with shocked eyes, “Isn’t this… Valencia!? Why are we… What’s happening!?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Guin answered, “We don’t have much time. Please, just listen to me...”

The two men looked at her doubtfully, but fortunately, Alessandra immediately picked up on the situation. She cupped her daughter’s face, emerald eyes boring into glossy, sanguine ones.

“My sweet daughter,” She softly murmured, thumbs caressing the other woman’s tear-stricken cheeks, “How lovely you’ve become.”

“Mom... I did my best to be as you wanted.” Guin laid her own hands against her mother’s. “I don’t know about being the most beautiful in the entire Ornare, but I do get plenty of praises. I always tell them I got my beauty from you, though. Except my eyes. I have dad to thank for these.” She let out a sound that was a cross between a sob and a laugh. “I don’t think I’m the most refined either, but I do my best to observe grace and elegance. And, and…,” she turned to her brother with a sniffle, “You’d be surprised at how many suitors I have, Lance. It’s almost ridiculous.” If she kept on going, it’d start feeling like a nice conversation over dinner instead of a race against time.

Lance chuckled, although she could hear how hard he was trying to suppress himself from crying. “Huh, looks like I underestimated that wrinkly face of yours.” He gently flicked her forehead. “So have you married your Lion yet?”

It was Guin’s turn to laugh. “Never.” She lightly punched his chest. “We’re still friends.” And the two of us avenged your deaths; she wanted to tell them but she knew it would only lead to more questions they had no time for. “And I have other friends aside from him now…”

“That’s my girl.” Her father cooed while brushing stray strands of hair from her forehead.

“One of them is a healer named Twig. He’s one of the silliest men I have ever met; he’d occasionally crack puns at the most inappropriate of times. Still, he has a good heart- absurdly so.” She paused to swallow a sob but it quickly returned to her that she didn’t have all the time in the world. “And there’s also someone named Declan. He’s an annoying glutton and a childish prankster, but even so I owe him my life. He promised he’d support me regardless of anything. Then there’s his best friend, Cass; he’s a sweet man. He swore he’d always protect me. And last but not the least, Samael; Cass and him would often squabble like children, sometimes it’s really frustrating but I remind myself that they care about me.” She let out a laugh, a tinge bitter. She began thinking of the people she had lost along the way. “You would love to meet them…”

“I’m sure we would, sweetie.” Alessandra muttered.

“But… that’s not all.” Guin lowered her head, showing her golden crown to her family. “I’m the Queen of Hearts now…”

“Oh dear gods, Guin…”

“I worked so hard for this.” She continued along with the heavy tears relentlessly pouring down her face. “I’m doing my best to serve our country. I want to show everyone there’s always a dawn after the night. That’s why my friends and I are all working together to do something incredible. We want to change the world for the better.”

Once she was done speaking, her mother tilted her head up so she could see their tender smiles. “Guin, we are so proud of you.”

“You three…,” she whimpered, “Don’t know how much I longed to hear that.” And as she once more wailed, her family pulled her closer into another embrace.

At that moment, even when everything around them was already frozen in place, Guin wished time would stop moving. She wished they could just stay together forever. She wished William didn’t have to give them a time-limit. She wished he didn’t have any nefarious entity to fear. She wished… her family and her never had to part in the first place.

But alas, like all things, their moment has reached its end.

She could sense the portal descending upon them. If she didn’t let go, she’d probably be swallowed alongside them. And if she got swallowed alongside them, she could probably save them from the fire. She probably wouldn’t be strong enough to eliminate Leolin’s father, but she could at least try and save her family’s lives. However, William’s warning echoed from the back of her mind; if she greatly altered another timeline, she might cause more trouble not just for her family but for the entire world.

But… this was her family. She has no idea if she’d ever see them again. William told her that this version of Gerardo, Alessandra, and Lance would never see her again. This will be their last time… their last moment… their last touch...

Guin didn’t know what to do.

“Let go.” Alessandra suddenly whispered.

Shocked, Guin stared at her mother with wide eyes. “I-I… what?”

“We love you.” With the heartfelt statement, each of them planted a kiss on her forehead; her father first, then her brother, and lastly her mother.

“I-I love you all too. So damn much! Everything I do is for you.”

The two women stared at each other, both eyes tormented with pain. Finally, Alessandra replied: “Then let go for us, my sweet.”

In the spur of the moment, the three of them pushed Guin, sending the queen flying a few feet away. With wide eyes, she watched as the portal gradually engulfed them, each of their faces stricken with tears.

“No!” She hastily bolted upright and ran towards them, but she was too slow despite her desperation. In the end, they vanished from plain sight and she was left all alone. Again.

Guin collapsed on the ground and wailed, her fists pounding against the dirt. “Come back, come back, please!” She begged in between sobs and ragged breaths. Her chest felt so tight and her eyes were burning from too much crying. She felt like she was suffocating and there was nothing that could fix her. “We’ll be together again, I promise… I promise… I promise…”

And as the Queen of Hearts laid there, brokenly chanting desperate promises, the flames within her only grew stronger.

A fierce reminder that even a spark like her could set the whole world ablaze.

 

[Coyote Hart]

Part I: Prison Break at the Spades​

Fate deemed it that Cilantro would die fighting alongside the Jokers. He would jump in front of Jake, saving him from a deadly halberd attack. It would be a sacrifice of his life for a life more worthy of living. The blade of the halberd would pierce quickly into Cilantro’s flesh, stifling out the life of the false phoenix.
But then you fuckers had to kill off Jake. So now deal with this: The consequence of playing with fate. The following story takes place two days after the Battle of Valencia, approximately five years ago. Myles Rein's character sheet for this time period can be found here. Cilantro's character sheet, which has been formatted specially for these flashbacks, can be found here.

The dank, dark cell was bringing back some pretty bad memories. Memories of being confined to the cultist’s “church,” of being disregarded and unloved. Was he going to die here, in the cell of a castle that he had grown to despise growing up? Well, at least he did it fighting for a cause that he believed in. The Deep Piercer was now in the hands of the Jokers. His and Skull’s sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

Cilantro shuffled uncomfortably in his cell. The eyes of the guard in the room darted towards him, making sure that he wasn’t trying to escape. Cilantro didn’t blame their caution.

But it was really uncomfortable, especially with the maddening itch on his chest from where the giant ax slash was healing. Cilantro wished they had a better healer on hand at the castle, but understandably, most of them were off fighting in Valencia. And even if they were present, they probably wouldn’t want to use their magic on scum like him.

Not that he wanted any healing. He wanted to die as soon as he could. The interrogations were horrible. Isolation was horrible. Yes, they treated him well. The room, if you ignored the fact that it didn’t have any windows, was pretty comfortable. But he ended up being misled into talking about the situation, and he was certain he might have leaked some pretty important information. He knew he couldn’t face the One True Queen or the White Plague after doing that.

The Queen of Spades would probably arrive soon, and with that, a whole load of interrogations. That would mean much more information would be leaked, and Cilantro knew that he had to end his own life before that happened. He could probably force the female guard that was stationed in his room to stab him. Probably.

As he was thinking about it, a large rumble resounded throughout the castle walls. The female guard looked around in confusion, as did Cilantro.

“What was that?” Cilantro asked, rising to his feet.

“I don’t know,” the guard said. She moved to walk out the door to check up on things, but then she stopped, returning to her post. She probably had been debating about whether to or not she should abandon her post and see what was going on.

A moment later, part of the wall that led to the other parts of the castle exploded. The female guard raised her lance to fend off the unwelcome visitor, but in the dust of the explosion, a rain of bullet fire tore through her.

Then two figures stepped through the dust. The one standing in front had two submachine guns in his hands, and he raised them triumphantly in the air.

“My dear princess!” he exclaimed. Cilantro noticed he had an Argossian accent. The boy continued with a spin and flourish, “I am your charming and chivalrous knight in shining armor, ready to whisk you out of this accursed castle!”

As the dust settled, Cilantro was able to get a better look at his savior. He didn’t look much older than Cilantro, probably at most a year or two. He had messy, curly black hair, green eyes that shined with boisterous energy, and was wearing what looked like an Argossian uniform, with the insignia ripped out, which was replaced with patches of brown fabric. He had no badges on, rather he had buttons that depicted yellow smiley faces.

The boy was also able to see Cilantro clearly, and his eyes widened like saucers, “Oh shit. You’re not a girl. Well then… I, your knight in shining armor, am ready to whisk you off, my dear prince!”

The person in the back began to cackle helplessly as he pointed at the boy, “Goodness, Myles! This isn’t even a tower, and you’re not wearing armor!”

Cilantro recognized this person as Edumench, the hyper-intelligent illusionist who rarely went anywhere in person. He was pretty certain the Edumench he saw in front of him was an illusion himself.

“Hey hey hey, don’t ruin my headcanon!” Myles rounded on Edumench and shot him. Shot through him would be more accurate. It confirmed Cilantro’s suspicion that it wasn’t actually Edumench he was seeing.

“Don’t waste your bullets,” Edumench said between bouts of laughter, “Let’s get out of here.”

“I-- what? What’s going on?” Cilantro asked in confusion.

“Here, catch,” Myles tossed something to Cilantro. When Cilantro caught it, he realized that it was his dart belt. As he dumbly put it on, Cilantro still couldn’t fathom what was going on. Why was an Argossian breaking him out of confinement? And why was Edumench with him? Was this the Jokers helping him out?

When Cilantro still stood in place, stupified, Myles impatiently scooped him up in a bridal carry and began to weave through the castle hallways.

“Let me down, let me down!” Cilantro shouted, pounding his fists uselessly at Myles’s chest. Myles ignored him as he ran up the stairs into an area with sunlight.

Then, surprisingly, Myles put Cilantro down. Cilantro regained his balance on his own two feet and said, “Huh. I didn’t think you’d actually listen.”

“Well, look, Gnocchi, or whatever your name is,” Myles pointed a black nail-polished finger down the hallway. When Cilantro looked up from adjusting his belt, he saw a group of Spade soldiers charging towards them. The words that Cilantro was going to say died on his mouth.

“I’ll take care of it. Stay here, bud,” Myles said. From his hip, he drew a bastard sword, and he charged in at the group of people.

“You idiot!” Edumench apparated in front of Cilantro, “You can’t take on all of them!”

“Not if I have something to say about it,” Cilantro said. He stepped forward, four darts in each of his hands.

The Spades soldier in front slashed down with his sword at Myles, but he deftly deflected the blow with his own sword. With incredible speed, Myles thrust past the swordsman’s guard, sinking his blade into the man’s chest.

Another guard, armed with a spear, thrust at Myles while he was busy pulling his sword out of the swordsman’s body. Fortunately, the spear attack didn’t hit. Myles was faster, and he pulled out one of his SMGs, firing off a round of shots into the spearman’s stomach.

“Is that all?” Myles said cockily. Of course, it wasn’t, because another guard, also wielding a sword, was sneaking up behind Myles. Cilantro knew that Myles didn’t see him.

“Watch out!” Cilantro shouted. The swordsman raised his sword to slash at Myles, and at that moment, Cilantro let loose the darts in his hand. With impeccable accuracy, the darts landed in between the gaps of the swordsman’s armor.

With a cry of pain, the swordsman recoiled, which gave Myles enough time to fire a few shots into his chest. When the threat was eliminated, Myles grinned sheepishly to Cilantro, “I probably shouldn’t have been careless. Sorry.”

Cilantro didn’t know what to say, so he just stayed silent as Myles led the way out of the Spades castle and into the forest that surrounded it.

“Why are you saving me?” Cilantro asked Myles and Edumench as they fled.

“Because it’s my mission,” Myles said with a dramatic wink, “I wanted to join the Jokers, but this guy with this scary plague doctor mask was kinda skeptical of me. He wanted me to prove myself.”

“Yeah, but why did you guys retrieve me? My life is probably worth less than most mages think of your life,” Cilantro said meekly.

“Well, you know some important details,” Edumench said, “We can’t have you accidentally leaking it out.”

A shock of guilt, fear, and self-loathing rushed through Cilantro, and he said in a small voice, “It’s too late for that. I already spilled the beans.”

Cilantro stopped in the middle of the forest, waiting with his eyes shut. Waiting for Myles to raise his gun and end Cilantro’s life. Waiting for Edumench to evaporate into the air. There was a pit of dread in his stomach. Finally, Myles clapped Cilantro on the shoulder.

“We can worry about that later, Gnocchi,” Myles said, “For now, let’s get you home.”

Cilantro didn’t have the heart to correct Myles with his real name. He could only follow him deeper into the forest, where Keo, Mohammed, and Samael were waiting with a mirror portal. And even when he crossed into the mirror portal back into the safe comforts of the secret underground Joker base, the pit in his stomach stayed.

Even though he escaped death this time, Cilantro had a feeling that the White Plague and the One True Queen wouldn’t take to his betrayal too well. He was once again waiting for the serpent to strike the life out of him.

 

[Remembrance]

Art de Glace and Caroline Earnest
Art walked with a calm mind and clear intent; to raid and plunder the riches of the Thief King. He had gotten a tip from someone in Indicus that he had found the lair. All Art had to do was find it. He was confident in his ability to clear a dungeon of such magnitude, he had trained with Ebel just before he had embarked on his own quest. Art had but a taste of his partner’s unique martial style. He saw much of what he wanted in a partner; somebody capable of matching his own strength and being the reason for his rather extreme ideas and thoughts.

With him on his quest was Caroline Earnest, a dear, wonderful person. His partner trusted Caroline so Art followed suit. Not to mention she was the sister to 18th Seat and held the 21st Seat herself though she held no power, unlike the rest. Though her predicament was rather inconvenient, Ebel had told Art of her own power and he rather not test the lady who can toss him around like a rag. The 18th Seat himself would be joining along with the 1st Seat, they hadn’t been chosen positions among the distribution and thus, they were opted to join the expedition.

Caroline herself kept a stoic face as they continued along the path. Art would keep glancing at Caroline, just to check if she would reveal any kind of emotion. Unfortunately, none were shown. Joining the two were a retinue of around 70 people. This was a lot of people to bring into a dungeon and so, Art was only intending to bring less than a dozen soldiers into the actual dungeon. The rest would set up an encampment around the entrance. Soldiers sent personally from the Diamond Kingdom would be joining the party but they were expected to arrive late. That is if the group would be able to find the lair within the available allotted time.

Caroline had been given a powerful true sight ring that day considering the legend told that the lair was cloaked in some kind of magic. Though the magic had been described as ‘powerful’ and ‘only specific individuals may enter’. Art nor Ebel, the one who told him of this legend knew who or what could enter. The legend also told that the entrance was almost impossible to find. Art wasn’t told whether or not people did indeed try, or how hard they tried. He supposed his retinue and his party as a whole could find it, at least he was hoping so.

His confidence had renewed as they neared the location of where the man told him was the lair. Art put up his hand, the back of his palm facing the walking retinue. As the soldiers noticed his hand, they all stopped, some putting down their supplies for a well-deserved rest. Art turned around, getting a glimpse of Caroline as he pivoted.

The soldiers, somewhat out of breath, stared up at Art.

“We near the location of where this lair may reside! You lot know what to do and how to do it, and I expect great things from you! So show your skill and let us plunder the riches from this skeleton of a thief king!” Art rallied the man, wanting their spirits raised for when the plundering would start.

The men raised their arms and cheered.

Art finished his rally by yelling out a “LET’S GO!” The men marched on. There was a large amount of land they had to cover was distressing and demoralizing but the speech Art had given them revitalized their resolve.

Ebel Lovataar
Ebel walked with an uplifting attitude, he was going to be seeing his master again, an event he rarely gets to have. The hours before contributed in part to his happy mood but it mainly came up to see his master. Ebel, in the hours before, had done some sparring with Elias. Sparring with him was a rare occurrence and only today was Ebel given a proper fight between their styles. Elias was fast. Ridiculously fast. Even without his magic, it was tough for Ebel to keep up. Though once Ebel understood how his style worked, he held his own and matched Elias’ strength.

Traveling with all his gear, he had to be wary of bandits or other adventurers willing to stoop to low levels just to get supplies. Though from any perspective, Ebel just looked like any traveler, true he had some very unique symbols tattooed across his body but most was hidden by his cloak and the fact he was intentionally hiding it. He was no sneak thief but he knew how to hide things fairly well.

The plan for today was simple. Meet with his master and then find the statue he had once prayed at so many years ago. While this sounds easy, Ebel had mostly forgotten the path he had taken when he last went there so the travel wasn’t easy but he started to remember certain pathways and areas he could use to take short cuts. Not only that but his master was north of Noah’s Park, about on the border of the Club Kingdom and the Heart Kingdom.

Traveling through the park, Ebel had quite a bit of time to think about his tasks and missions. By actively doing his own quest, he’s leaving his village to their own devices. All he could do was hope they could handle the work and maintenance, not only that but working the lumber was a hard task, especially fulfilling orders across the kingdom and transporting it in a timely manner. This brought on a lot of stress for the workers but Ebel had faith in their ability, and he wasn’t paying them for nothing.

As Ebel approached the door to his master’s hovel, he worried that he would be busy and also because he wasn’t invited; that he wouldn’t be welcomed in. But after he opened the door and his master saw him; these doubts disappeared and his arrival was welcomed. He and his master talked, they had a lot of catching up to do.

When asked about whether or not Ebel had been training his breath, he revealed that he had not only learned a new one but that he met other people that were like them but used different styles. His master took this information with cool indifference. Ebel was shocked at how his master was taking this new information and when asked about it, his master said that he had always suspected there were other styles but could never confirm it. His master was quite the hermit so he rarely left the general vicinity of his house.

After finishing catching up, Ebel was offered a quick spar before he left. Ebel agreed. Even with his new style, Ebel could hardly break through his master’s defense. It was good to know his master was training still and wouldn’t go down without a fight. After the spar, his master gave Ebel a hug, something he’d never done, before sending him off to tend to whatever he had to do. Ebel left, a little tired but happy. His master was well and as sturdy as ever.

He approached the statue, a woman made of marble pointing decidedly East. The woman stood on a base containing a plaque with old carvings, unreadable to modern scholars. Ebel had found this statue long ago on his journey to create a unique move. He had been meaning to go on this pilgrimage when he found the statue and heard the legend about it, and today was as best as a time to do so.

Viewing to where the statue pointed, he picked himself up and started in that direction.
Kloudy

 

[. D O V E]

Two Sides of the Same Coin
A fateful meeting between Helmur Bellarmont ( Athanas ) and Guineverre Victoria y Blanca ( . D O V E )​

His footfalls echoed loudly as he walked.

To a normal person, this wouldn’t mean anything notable. But to Helmur Bellarmont, a sharpened hearing meant that his nerves were on edge-usually, before he went into a fight. However, his current predicament was much, much worse. It was something he had no experience with, at all.

He was going to apologize. He was going to apologize not to some random other general over tactical mistakes(although that still would’ve been quite the ordeal), no-He was going to apologize to the Queen of Hearts himself.

Yes, the one he’d called tactically inept, a schemer, and a whore. The one who was quite upset over the destruction of Valencia, and the one that definitely had the temper to execute him then and there.
That one.

He stopped by the front door of her office. The two members of the Queensguard eyed him slightly wearily, though without much suspicion-they knew the man.
“I request an audience with the queen. I have some things to clarify to her regarding yesterday’s incident.”

The Guards shrugged, and motioned for him to go inside. He drew a deep breath, trying to somehow form his thoughts around a single speech pattern. Cass has told him of the words to use-Words he didn’t think he’d ever used before. This ordeal was proving to be more stressful than any battle.

He breathed again, and motioned for the Guard to open the door. The Guard knocked. “General Helmur Bellarmont is requesting an audience, your Heartship.”

As soon as he was admitted, Helmur entered, ducking slightly to avoid clipping the doorframe. He stood before the queen, drew a final(maybe literally) breath, and spoke.
“Your Heartship. I...I realize that during the meeting I, uhm, may have said things that could be considered grossly offensive. I therefore would...Would-”

He sighed, groaned, and abandoned that train of thought altogether

“Yeah...No. I never could stomach bootlicker speak. I’ll say it how it is-I’m sorry. You...You’ve done a great job. The plan you came forward with-For someone with no experience, it was astonishingly well conceived. You held that entire band of crazies from intervening with our plan, and we could execute it near-flawlessly. You even somehow managed to make that Wyrm destroy their warmachine! That was truly astounding, albeit painful” He chuckled a little, tapping a new burn mark on the side of his shoulder blade. “So-I’m sorry. I was under duress from-” He caught himself. “Yeah, that’s...That’s all. I know it’s too little, too late-but I can’t exactly turn back time. I was unfair and I’d like you to know that I understand I was unfair.”

Across from him, sitting behind a cluttered desk, the Queen of Hearts raised her brow. Like all of the others left at the wake of what was possibly the most gruesome war of the century, she looked tired and bruised. It was a much needed reminder that everyone, regardless of how high up they were on a pedestal, still bleed at the end of the day.

But compared to him, she was physically in a much better shape thanks to the healers that rushed to her aid as soon as the battle was won. The burly warrior has cuts and bruises all over his body, awful remnants of the carnage that plagued their lands a couple of hours ago. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to behold, of course, and the royalty has seen her fair share of wounded soldiers- if not worse- but there was something different in the way he wore them. It was almost as if they were meant to be there.

Of course that sadistic notion could easily be chalked up to the fact that he slandered her in front of the Coalition. The memory still brought a churning sensation at the pit of her stomach along with the burning desire to bring her hands to his neck and wring him dry of his soul. However, she was way past her reckless phase and learned how to resist her urges, so she simply leaned backwards and gestured to the open seat in front of her.

Interestingly enough, Helmur Bellarmont was apologizing to her. Apologizing. Guin has no way to tell if he was genuinely sincere or merely pulling on her leg. Perhaps the war did something to that thick skull of his? Or did he finally realize he was better off in her good side rather than the other? His words were painfully awkward, and anyone with two eyes could easily tell he wasn’t used to this whole concept. Truth to be told, Guin was just shocked he even thought of apologizing.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise.” She said, voice trickling with exhaustion. The past few days have been beyond taxing, and an interaction with a Bellarmont was the last thing she needed. If the case had been any different, she would have sent him away after his first three sentences. Yet, he caught her off-guard the moment he told her she did a good job.

She did a good job, he said.

Honestly, that was what the Queen of Hearts wanted to hear. She didn’t want anyone asking her how she was, what happened to their battles, where the Flushe went, or any of the other trivial questions she has been getting all day; this was what she wanted to hear.

“Thank you. But do know I didn’t do any of those by myself. I had my friends, comrades, and people to help me- such as yourself.” She said, pausing for a little while before continuing. “Though I must say, there were a few lights to what you said before.” She wasn’t confirming his accusations against her, of course. “Not everyone pulled their weights. Granted. But you must learn, Mr. Bellarmont, there are times when you should and should not open your mouth. There are plenty of situations which call for the need to study your audience, to only speak what they want to hear so that when the time comes, they’ll speak what you want to hear. I don’t know what your family has taught you, but this won’t make you any less of a warrior. If anything, it’ll make you more.”

“And I reckon that the two of us can agree,” the blonde leaned forward, “That if you were to become an even better warrior, you’d be nigh-unstoppable, no?” It was then when the ends of her lips curled into a smile, her sanguine eyes glinting with amusement as she looked at him. “I am aware of your contributions as well. How you led our soldiers into battle, inspired them just when they were about to lose their faith, and leaped onto the Empire’s behemoth as an attempt to destroy it. So, believe me when I say this: I am equally impressed- if not more- and I think we got off the wrong foot.”

Helmur had braced himself for many different reactions. Yelling, subtle threats, less subtle threats, reminders of the difference in rank, screams to arrest him, and potential magical draining. Nobles, and to a much bigger degree, Royalty, were largely like petulant children-Hell, the last King was a literal child, mentally, who seemed to firmly believe herself to be a fox. A very deadly, very intimidating fox, but a fox all the same.

Instead she seemed to...Accept his praise? No, not fully-She acknowledged the others that helped her in this ordeal, something to which he could not hide his surprise about. Leaders were renowned for hogging all the glory, whenever they could-He’d seen as much with the others. But...She seemed down to earth. What?

He slowly sat on the proffered seat, eyeing her, trying to spot any tells she was playing him. She continued by...By agreeing with him? Claiming many did not pull their weight, as he had supported. He inadvertently shrugged at her words about politics. She was...absolutely correct, yet he couldn’t exactly follow suit with what she was implying. She clearly had a good grasp of politics, hence her managing to remain queen for as long as she did
Well, that and the magical power.

“While I understand the need for politicking to get people by your side, I’m afraid I wasn’t really taught the finer points. I’m a Soldier, my queen. I sleep in their trenches, eat in the mess halls, and fight by their side. This gives me their respect, for the soldiers have very little respect for flowery language and neutral tones. No offense intended, I assure you. It’s just...easier to inspire them when they simply see you as the best amongst them.”

She proceeded again, this time praising his skill and ability to organize the frontline-not even screaming at him for his foolhardy charge. He felt a small bit of warmth touch his heart. Praise from higher up was about as rare as an honorbound thief. He smiled at her, nodding in appreciation. "Your words bring me joy, My Queen. I am...Of this opinion, as well. I was simply frustrated from a variety of sources. My friend, the healer, seemed...Agitated. The constant shelling was getting on my nerves, and...And Mortemiah was there.” The way he said the name, it was as though it was a demonic spell-such hatred flowed into this simple, elegant word.

He paused, eyes darting to the ground. “I’m sorry. It is...Unbecoming of a General to harbor such thoughts after all the years.”

One of the interesting things about the Queen of Hearts was that she was easy to read. It’s no secret that royals are often associated with corruption and schemes, each of them hiding stacks upon stacks of secrets as if they were trying to reach the heavens. However, for some reason, when Guin pursed her lips and averted her eyes, her face plainly showed understanding and… sadness.

“Then I suppose I’m an unbecoming queen.” She stayed silent briefly before returning her gaze on him, a bitter smile now adorning her lips. “You see, Mr. Bellarmont, perhaps we’re not so different after all. For even I, after all these years, still can neither forget nor forgive the man who rid me of my family.” Hatred laced her voice like wildfire scorching a forest, merciless- just like his. She wasn’t afraid of showing him her emotions- her drive.

The tragedy of house Blanca was no stranger to any Heart’s ears; a bloody tale of betrayal, as most people had described. And the sad thing was that Guin can’t do anything about their whispers, for they were all true.

“You think I’d be better knowing my family’s killer is rotting sixty feet under, sent to hell by my dearest friend and his own son, but I’m not.” There was no point in trying to hide all these things for she didn’t find them shameful. “At night I’d see his face in my sleep; haunting and mocking me for being so weak that I could do nothing but watch as he slaughtered my family. And in the morning, I’d have to hide all my anger, pretend as if nothing’s wrong as I face my people, because I know not everyone would understand. To most, we are not beings capable of emotion. We are symbols. Symbols can’t show anything aside from the things they’re supposed to represent, lest they be called failures.” And the Queen knew her role. To her people, she is a symbol of hope; a reminder that morning follows night.

“But sometimes, I can’t help but think it’s all bullshit.” She uncharacteristically sneered. “So if you think I’d chastise you for still loathing the woman who killed your brother, you couldn’t be more wrong. I know what it feels like, and I’ve learned that there’s only a few things which can rival its awfulness. But don’t get me wrong. I can still understand the need for the right time and venue to express yourself. Such as right here and now.” She let out an amused chuckle. “Look at me, enjoying a talk with you as if the two of us never wished to dispose of the other before.”

He heard her as she spoke, and her sincerity floored him. He was once more underestimating her. He was expecting doublespeak, neutral answers, passive acknowledgments and empty words.

Instead he was shown fire, and hatred beyond anything he thought any “normal” person could ever achieve.
It reminded him of the fire he’d felt in each of his gangmates. The main reason he was so sure of their loyalty.
Impaler had talked about the eternal scorn he had faced due to his deformity. He talked about how it didn’t matter what he did, they’d eternally treat him as a monster, so he might as well oblige them.
Ace had had his entire life’s work taken away by the petty machinations of lesser intellects. With it, gone was his drive to try and rebuild everything again.
Lurcher and Doc were Bellarmont bastards. They knew that their lot in life was to serve. Never would they rise above their station as petty grunts to greater lords.
Demo and Hanz were gone. Their fire had burned so brightly it had consumed their very souls, leaving naught but cackling, deranged monsters in its wake.
Warhound screamed at the injustice performed by the King, how her “noble” actions had taken everything he had from him.

Yet none of them could compare to what the queen was entrusting him with here. He felt a simmering hatred- Not a rage. Just the pure, distilled hatred of an orphan. It was so potent, it shook the veteran to his core.

He nodded at her with newfound appreciation. “Indeed my queen. To the Soldiers, to the people, we are but symbols. For symbols are more powerful than any man or woman could ever hope to be.”
His symbol was much more grim than hers. She was the queen. A symbol of hope, and peace, and prosperity.

He was the Son of Darigaas. An Omen of Ruin. A rampaging beast. He inspired bloodlust amongst the like minded and butchered the rest without a shred of remorse. He did not feel naught but wrath. He did not act but in hostility. His legacy nothing but an endless tally of bodies stacked and holdings burnt.

He chuckled at her last remark, easing up-He was in the presence of the queen, but she seemed like a surprisingly relatable person. “I am happy it did not come to that, My Queen. I do not envy a man who makes a foe out of you.” Helmur usually did not hand out praise or compliments, so these words were more than empty banter. He had seen the fire, and did not want to be the target of that fire.

"Would you like to hear the story, your grace? Maybe it would help you understand why I was so hard pressed to maintain control.”

He paused for a moment, looking for a sign of approval from Guin. Once that was received, through a nod, he continued. “We were trained that Death was an old friend, after all. We were exposed to it from a young age. We’re soldiers, and soldiers die. It is their nature.”

“So here we were, near the Spade’s capital, when out of the blue, here comes the queen herself, and her queensguard. It was...mortifying. Normally, we were the ones doing the ambushing, not the other way around, so, you can understand, it was quite a shock. We tried to perform a fighting retreat, but…”

He went silent for some moments, his mind trying to piece the horrible memories together into a coherent story. She nodded her head; a sign that she was listening and was awaiting his next words. “You see, she was dancing left and right-killing my poor boys indiscriminately. She even puppeted their corpses to attack the rest. That was...Interesting to watch.” He forced a pained smile.

“So she went up to poor Doc, who was trying to resuscitate one of the fallen, and I saw it-her hand bore a horrid corruption. If she so much as tagged Doc with it, he’d wither in seconds. And my brother-He saw it too. He rammed into her at full speed, knocked her back and saved the lad’s life-but she’d nicked him.” He clenched his fist, and a small glow appeared on his chest.


“Now, my brother was...Was the toughest, meanest bastard you’ve ever seen. He was stronger than me, a 10. Trained his whole life in being able to take ungodly amounts of punishment without flinching. You think I’m durable? I had nothing on that mean bastard. In feasts, it was a common game to have the entire brigade take a swing at him, betting how many hundreds he could take before he yielded. The result surprised us every time. So the curse tagged him in the neck, but it didn’t spread-not instantly. Eventually Demo set off a chain explosion and we escaped in the confusion. We were cut off from our main force, and so we began legging it on our own. We were confident that Orson’s innate and magical regeneration would beat whatever that was-like it had beaten all other sorts of curses and maladies.”

“So we walked. And Walked. He slowed down, and before long he was grunting in pain-but he didn’t yield. We walked all night, trying to make distance. By morn he couldn’t walk without his arm around me, and his grunts were much louder-still he didn’t yield. We walked until the next noon before his legs gave out completely, and I realized how badly it had spread.

Soon he began screaming. Now, this surprised me, cause I had never heard my brother scream in pain since we were very little. But still, I assured him it was going to be ok. We were going to get him to doc, and he’d fix him right up-guaranteed. So I carried him.”

His eyes had a faraway look, and he seemed to have lost her-he stared at some piece of the wall behind her. His firsts were clenched to the point of the knuckles turning white.

“At first he screamed in vengeance, channeling his pain into hatred-as we’ve been taught. After a few hours he couldn’t even hate anymore. He whimpered for Mother to come save him, he begged whatever Gods existed and didn’t to make the pain stop. Finally, he begged for me to kill him-said that he couldn’t go on. I refused. My back hurt like hell, my legs felt like hot iron rods-but i refused to give up on him. I was going to get him to doc, and my brother would live.”

“Eventually, his-his vocal cords gave. In about the same time as my legs. But-But that didn’t stop him from screaming, oh, no no nooooo. He still tried. But the only sound that came out was this-this sickening gurgling noise. In his eyes I saw the absolute terror-Of a man who must scream and yet had no mouth. I-I’ve heard the death throes of a hundred thousand men. But I will never forget my brother’s. This abhorrent, disgusting gurgling, and those eyes full of panic, staring right...into…me...”

A small hint of vomit appeared on his mouth, and he inadvertently threw up a little on the floor. His heart was beating incredibly fast now. He put his hands on his head, trying to calm himself.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t allow my brother to suffer for a moment longer. So I raised my axe and took his head clean off, and the last look he gave me was a look of utter gratitude that it was all over.”
‘My...My brother was a soldier. And soldiers are meant to die. But-not like this. No one, not the worst devil of the lowest ring of hell deserves this death. There was no glory, no last words, no legacy-Just a miserable husk that tried to scream but couldn’t.”

“So when I saw her, in her pretty little dresses, in her impeccable little manners, I couldn’t help but see his pleading eyes as he begged me, his own brother, to take his life. And every time I heard one of them say what a “benevolent”, “just” or “kind” queen she was, I did not hear them-I heard naught but the horrible gurgling. Each time she spoke, I didn’t pay attention to her flowery words- I was more focused on her cold, dead eyes as she cut down my soldiers.”

He looked up at her, and if before in his eyes there could be seen fire, now it was as though Hell in its entirety had opened a gateway directly into his gaze.

“But I couldn’t tell no one-For it was a covert operation, and woe betide “politics” if it was ever known. I have to forever live with my brother’s memory being widely considered as that of a coward who abandoned his post, who out of the blue deserted our forces.”

By the time he ended his tale, the queen was donning a confounded look on her face. Her mouth was slightly agape as her widened sanguine eyes bored themselves into his. She could see the anger and the pain- like his orbs were windows to a world filled with profound agony. It was as if she was looking at hell itself.

But the gruesomeness of his story wasn’t what took her by surprise. No. She was the Queen of Hearts. His story wasn’t something new to her. She had read the reports about the operation, even the tidbits that didn’t make its way to the public ears. It was unfortunate, yes, but it wasn’t new. Soldiers dying on the field was something common. She had read, heard, and seen more abhorring tales during her entire existence, even before she became a queen. And when she did, it only grew worse. As the Queen, she’s the harbinger of justice, the one tasked to give people their due. And when you’re the one in charge of deciding who’s right and wrong, you don’t get spared of any gritty details. You must sit through each horrid retelling, conduct an investigation, analyze until you reach a conclusion, before bestowing the much needed justice.

So clearly, to her, his story was just any other. In fact, even her own story was just as common. Their stories were but specks in a sea of tragedy, for they all live in a cruel world. A world filled with monsters. And to survive, you must become a monster yourself. But this was a fact that only a few could understand, much less accept. The rest would rather twiddle their thumbs and wait for something which doesn’t exist to make their lives better for them. Sheep- she’d label these poor, passive people.

But now, standing in front of her, was a lion. He’s fierce, angry, and hungry for vengeance. She knew about his secret activities in the Kingdom of Spades. She knew how he’d go there under the name of Spade Breaker, ransacking towns after towns to make their queen feel even the tiniest hints of his pain. His actions weren’t exactly something she approved of. They were distasteful and barbaric. Still, she understood a lion must feed, and the people of Spades weren’t her flock to save. Not yet, at least. But come due time and even them shall be saved- so long as they follow their shepherd.

“But now you have told someone.” She told him, her features softening with clear sympathy. “And I can say, with confidence, that your brother didn’t die a coward. He died serving our country. He’s a hero just like any of our fallen soldiers who fought bravely during the war.” She pressed her fist over her beating heart- the kingdom’s salute. A gesture that showed nothing but respect.

Then her hands fell back to their place along with her smile. “But that doesn’t take away the pain, does it? It’s still there. Clawing inside you like a caged beast which you must set free lest it tears you from the inside.” She took a deep breath. “What happened to our family is beyond unfair. You’re right. Your brother didn’t deserve that kind of death. Neither did my family ..” She clenched her fists as it rested on the table, her knuckles turning white as she stared at them. “Which is why I refuse to accept their deaths.”

It was then when her gaze locked with his, almost as if she was trying to pierce through his soul. “Tell me. If you were given the chance to be with your brother once more- to walk with him, to laugh with him, and to live with him- would you take it?”

Helmur stared at her intently as he finished his story, trying to gauge her reaction. She seemed...Genuinely confounded. Of course, she could understand his plight. She had been in all too similar circumstances. Yet unlike him she seemed able to temper the fire. To control and conceal it until it was the moment to unleash it. He could not. He pitifully cowered behind his helmet, trying to hide the pain in his eyes which never went away. She had no such luxury, and yet…

He felt a small hint of confusion as he saw the queen perform the gesture of respect. This was a gesture he had associated with soldiers, laborers, peasants. It was sincere and meaningful, and it came from the heart.

And then its meaning struck him. The Queen was sympathizing. For a moment, she wasn’t the Queen of Hearts talking to a Rowdy General. This was a woman who had lost much, talking to a man who could understand his loss.

He felt a surge of pride fill him as he was deemed worthy of the honor, and he nodded with profound respect for the petite woman that sat in front of him.

His face also sank as she moved on with her words, however. “Of course. I can only hope that her ruin shall bring me a small hint of solace. That wound will never heal...But maybe I can comfort myself in the knowledge that I have inflicted an equally grievous one, like a dying warrior comforts himself with dreams of his triumph parade.

At her final words, his face assumed a confused expression once more-What kind of question was that? Before he could think, he had already opened his mouth, and he uttered the truth.
“With every fiber of my being. I wouldn’t care for the effort, or the price, or the stigma-Having such a great disservice undone would fill my heart with untold joy.”

He chuckled, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Alas. Death is the ultimate equalizer. Strong, weak, rich, poor. Royals and paupers. None can cheat it. This is the truth.”
He looked up, and he felt her piercing gaze all the way into the depths of his soul. And while his mind still lingered on his previous words, suddenly there was the slightest hint of hope in his heart. His eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the conviction with which the Queen denied her family’s death. It was impossible this was not a figure of speech...right? He held her gaze for many seconds, trying to gauge if he should ask this totally outlandish question. A question that could be considered grossly offensive, for such magics were outlawed and demonic, as people said.

“Mr. Bellarmont,” The Queen called as she leaned forward, her voice a haunting whisper as her lips curled into a twisted smile. “Not even death will stop me.”

 

[. D O V E]

A Walk to Remember
A familiar face stumbles upon Commander Alderidge- figuratively, this time. Xanto​

What mattered was the bigger picture. The Coalition won. Every sacrifice was worth it. Soldiers and resources were amongst the few recognizable costs of battle. Oh, but if only people could see the finer lining from all the violence. After the Valencia War, a new record number of children were subsequently sent to orphanages across the country. Many of them were children of Kaiden’s fellow brothers and sisters in arms. The man used to visit the local orphanage once a month to empathize with kids who either lost their parents or were abandoned. Now, he visited at least once a week to provide moral support for his fallen comrades’ loved ones.

“He’s here! He’s here!” A youthful cheer announced behind the orphanage’s walls. “No he’s not!” Another much more sassy voice clapped back. “Yeah he is. Look-,” An insistent Alistair paused, his scarred face shifting with confusion upon realizing the now empty front yard, “I saw him standing right there!” “Well he’s not there Alistair, maybe you’re seeing things again,” Amber, a blonde elven girl, squinted at the young boy, wary of falling victim to yet another prank. Both children briefly glared at each other before facing the window once again. Even if the number of visitors increased over the past two weeks, they still couldn’t help but stay on the lookout for a couple of their favorites.

“Could’ve sworn I saw him too,” Kaiden playfully stepped next to the brother and sister duo and looked out the window as they did. It was truly magical how a small argument could distract children so much. “See! Kaiden even said so,” Alistair readied his elbow to nudge Amber . . that was until they realized the situation and turned around in laughter.

“Da!” Yet another familiar voice couldn’t help but chime into the reunion. “Babs!” Kaiden scooped the green-skinned toddler up with an arm before lightly fistbumping him with the other. “Hebbo!” Babs enthusiastically clapped before wrapping his chubby arms around Kaiden’s head in a hug. Zegrath Magnus Auron Hallewell III, also known as Babs, was one of the more recent additions to the gang. For some reason, he only ever referred to the air force commander as . . Da.

It didn’t take long for the group to run out the back door then engage in a nice game of tag. “Wheee,” Babs sounded out as Kaiden gave him a fast piggyback ride around the field. Amber and Alistair ran after the duo, while Babs simply spread his arms like he was flying away from them. “Say . . ‘moo’,” Kaiden glanced over his shoulder at the now chuckling orc. “Moo!” Babs obediently cheered, still holding his arms up in imaginary flight. “A flying cow?” Alistair laughed along with the group.

However, the boisterous activity came to a halt when Amber let out a dramatic gasp and pointed at the doorway. There, a cloaked woman leaned against the frame with her arms crossed, a smirk adorning her face. Thick chestnut-colored locks swayed in freedom when she eventually pulled her hood down, revealing honey eyes that seemed to be glimmering with curiosity.

“I never knew cows could fly.” Came her amused remark.

“It’s Victoria!” Alistair piped up, his blonde hair bobbing with mirth as he ran to the female visitor who bent down to receive him with a warm embrace. “You’re back! You’re back!” Amber joyfully chanted before running to her arms as well. It was definitely a warming display that lasted for at least a good minute before they all finally let go.

The two children looked at her in awe, as though she was some sort of a hero straight out of a fairy tale. “Have the two of you been good?” The brunette asked, giving each of them a pat before drawing a bag from underneath her worn-out cloak.

The youngsters nodded their heads enthusiastically before Amber voiced a question. “What did you bring us this time?” Excitement filled her round azure eyes.

“Somethings red and plump.” The older female hinted as she moved to place the bag on a nearby table.

Amber and Alistair looked at each other with eureka, “Apples!” They then returned their attention to Victoria who simply rolled her shoulders into a shrug.

It appeared as though even the orc toddler wanted to join in the fun when he stretched his stout arms towards the woman and made an endearing noise. Victoria immediately took notice and approached Kaiden who was still carrying him on his back. “May I?” The brunette asked and slightly extended her hands towards the youngest of the children.

Kaiden was focused on adjusting his hold around Babs when the cloaked newcomer approached them. His eyes only lifted from the baby orc’s face at the sound of her voice. Victoria . . was it? She looked familiar, yet he’d be lying if he said he knew her. The curious man slightly tilted his head to view the stranger’s face in a better light. Still, her honey eyes and brown hair didn’t seem to ring any bells.

“You mah!” Babs’s flailing arm unintentionally swacked Kaiden’s ear, causing the man to glance at the toddler and let out a laugh. “Of course,” He replied, moving Babs around his torso before carefully handing the toddler off to the lady. “Careful, he weighs a ton,” Kaiden joked, stepping back and fixing his sleeve.

Not too far off in the background, Alistair and Amber could be heard sifting through their new gift bag. “It’s a tomato!” The boy excitedly exclaimed, “And another one! And another one, and another one . .” Within a few moments, Alistair’s initial excitement soon began to waver as he searched through what seemed to be a never ending bag of tomatoes.

“You seem to frequent this place,” Kaiden mentioned, moving his gaze away from the two and back to Victoria, “Yet it’s the first time we’ve ever met.” All three kids looked like they enjoyed the reunion. Er, he couldn’t really say the same about the tomato bag. However, the lady had a friendly vibe nonetheless. “Kaiden,” He introduced himself with a small smile before holding a hand out toward her.

Victoria adjusted her hold to the small orc before extending a hand to shake the man’s. “Airforce Commander Kaiden Alderidge,” her honey eyes bore to his with recognition, “I know about your feats during the war. Thank you for your service.” Of course, it wouldn’t be uncommon for someone to recognize the soldier. Leading hundreds of ships against the Empire was definitely something that would make people talk. “I go by many names, but the children call me Victoria,” The lady said after she retracted her hand and gently rocked the toddler in her arms, earning a high-pitched “Mah!” Victoria cracked an amused smile before returning her gaze to Kaiden. “Or Mah.” She added which made the baby laugh.

“I don’t actually visit as often as you probably think.” She finally addressed his earlier remark. “I come by twice a month or so- probably why you haven’t seen me here until now.” There was a mysterious glint in her eyes, as though she was keeping something regardless of her affable aura.

Kaiden was about to reply until an orphanage worker walked in and gave the two a respectful bow. Although, she seemed to be a little hesitant when doing the gesture to the brunette. The worker walked towards Amber and Alistair, politely taking the bag of tomatoes from their hold and inspecting it. “Oh dear! We should cook them immediately. They’re very ripe, they might rot soon.” The employee expressed her worry.

“I’d like to help.” Victoria volunteered, causing the other woman to gape at her in shock. “You don’t have to, your-“ But the panicking female wasn’t able to finish her sentence when the other interjected, “I insist.” She flashed an assuring smile, causing the employee to hold back a sigh and eventually give in. “As you wish. You’re welcome to the kitchen anytime.” She finished with another bow before ultimately taking Babs from the lady’s arms and ushering the rest to follow her into another room.

How strange. Kaiden raised a brow at the scene that played out before him. It almost seemed like the worker was somewhat nervous around Victoria. Gah, but he didn’t have time to bask in curiosity. The staff needed help, and Kaiden just so happened to be there. “Haven’t cooked in a while, but I’m sure they could use another hand,” He volunteered himself as well before thinking of tomato-centric recipes, “You have any ideas?”

“A few,” His companion answered as they began to make their way to the kitchen.

Making tomatoes the center of attention for dishes wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, so Kaiden thought up a way to streamline the process. “The dish probably doesn’t have to revolve around tomatoes. They could be somewhere off to the side-” He paused at the woman’s reaction.

She was wearing what seemed to be the most disappointed face a person could ever make.

“ . . No? Okay,” He rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned onto the countertop with his opposite arm. The last thing Kaiden expected was Victoria’s determination to put her tomatoes in the spotlight. “We can-,” His gaze shifted around the room, searching for imaginary answers written along the kitchen walls. “What do you want? Tomato cookies?” He finally asked after pausing for a few moments, “Tomato rice? Tomato bread? Tomato salad, tomato soup . . spaghetti?”

Mirth adorned Victoria’s features as Kaiden continued to list recipes with the pesky red fruit as its main subject. “I actually have my own invention.” She started, grabbing an apron that hung by a nearby wall rack before putting it on. “It will primarily involve dough, cheese, and lots of tomatoes. I think the children will love it,” she paused to look at him, “In fact, I think even you will like it.” An air of confidence seemed to have enveloped the woman.

She then moved to wash her hands, the sound of water accompanying a curious question, “Have you ever baked before, sir Kaiden?”

“Once,” The man replied as he pushed back a fond memory from his days with the monks. It really just consisted of him messing around, while the adults did most of the work. Kaiden smiled a bit before shifting past Victoria and washing his hands after. “You seem mighty confident about this dish,” He glanced at her as if playfully challenging her conviction. True, he wasn’t a picky eater to begin with. However, the guy rarely handed out free compliments. Kaiden dried his hands on a towel before turning around to face the master baker, “Okay Madam Victoria, what’s the first order of business?”

Victoria half-laughed at the tease, “I am mighty confident about this dish. It was something I used to make for my family.” There was a fondness in her voice that was certainly hard to miss. It was as if she was thousands of worlds away during that short moment. Eventually, she decided to address the soldier’s question, finding his military-like formality to be amusing. “We need to create the dough first. Can you fetch me the bag of flour please?” She requested as she moved to grab a clean wooden bowl and spoon.

“Sure,” Kaiden made his way over to the other side of the room known to contain all the ingredients the orphanage has ever laid eyes on. Now, where exactly was the flour? His gaze scanned multiple ingredient labels until- There we go. A sack of flour about Babs’s size slumped against the wall. His arm quickly swept it up with ease before bringing it to Victoria.

This was a lot easier than he remembered. On that note, the commander casually placed the bag of flour onto the counter . . a little too roughly though. Poof. Some flour puffed onto the beginner baker’s face on impact. Kaiden merely blinked upon contact though, not realizing just how much hit him. Besides, he was focused on studying the “professional” as she intently proceeded to her next move.

After muttering a small phrase of thanks, the brunette scooped a measured sum of the flour before putting it in the bowl. She then moved to pour a small amount of clean water in it, mixing them with the spoon in a controlled manner. “Can you make sure the oven has enough firewood?” She asked as she continued her work.

“Yes, master chef,” Kaiden moved to the oven and checked the wood. One more piece would probably do the trick. “You really like tomatoes, huh?” He randomly questioned, while grabbing a portion of wood before tossing it into the pit. It was a spontaneous thought, but a question he’d regret not asking later on. She just seemed so keen with supplying the orphanage with the fruit.

“It’s my favorite fruit,” the lady answered, “I used to hate them though. Whenever our mother prepared a tomato dish, I would sneak my portion to my brother's plate behind her back.” Even though it was her back that was facing him, her tone alone showed the smile that she was wearing. Eventually, Victoria turned to face the soldier. She couldn’t stop herself from giving a small laugh when she found his flour-covered face. She used a hand to cover her mouth, “You look absolutely dashing, commander.” She jested as she paused on her work to grab a clean towel and offer it to the man. “Careful. With a face like that, the entire town would fawn over you.”

“Huh?” Kaiden innocently raised a brow at the sudden transition. How’d they get from tomatoes to his appearance? That’s when his eyes met a reflective piece of silverware, “Woah.” Right there across his face was a massive amount of flour. Maybe that’s what caused the pain in his eye. Kaiden calmly slung the towel over his shoulder then wiped a portion of it against his face. It all made sense now. . . too bad the flour just seemed to spread even more.

The woman giggled at him, “Oh commander, you look even better. If only everyone was blessed with such a look!”

“Perhaps you’d like me to share the blessing,” He playfully paused, glancing at Victoria one moment before speeding around the kitchen the next. In the blink of an eye Kaiden was back by the experienced baker, pretending a new puff of flour blew across her forehead. He slightly chuckled as his body casually leaned against the counter, “Magnificent.”

The sudden action caught Victoria off-guard. She definitely wasn’t expecting the regimental commander to act in such an impish manner. “Did you just…?” She assumed he blew flour onto her forehead so she brushed a finger against it- only to realize that there was nothing on there. It dawned to her that he pulled a double prank on her.

“You’re quite the mischievous type, aren’t you?” Victoria said with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t say mischievous,” Kaiden’s eyes glanced around the room until they finally landed back on her, “Clever, maybe.” He smiled as he fully turned to Victoria, pulled the towel into his hand, and slightly dipped his head toward her, “Mind helping me out?”

Victoria took the towel with her right hand while her left cupped his cheek. “Stay still and close your eyes.” She whispered as she drew closer and did as he asked. She wiped the flour off of his face thoroughly; her touch gentle like a mother’s. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Kaiden opened his eyes to be directly greeted by her honey ones. “You know, Victoria,” He mentioned, while momentarily getting lost in their familiar depth, “Can’t help but think we’ve seen each other before.” Maybe she just looked like another person? No, but it felt so familiar. Kaiden lifted his head back up, “Correct me if I am wrong.”

A knowing smile graced Victoria’s face. “Perhaps,” she vaguely answered before turning her back and returning to her work. She had this strong air of mystery around her, as though she has a more concrete answer which she’d rather hide for the time being.

“How about we chat later, commander? For now, let’s focus on baking. It’s almost dinner time, and I would hate for the children to go hungry.”

So they did just that. The dynamic duo was able to whip together quite a tomato-infested meal. It was a delicious meal- a flattened base of leaven dough topped with an overflowing amount of tomato sauce and various other ingredients- that the children enjoyed. Their dinner was nothing short of laughter and appreciation. Soon enough, it was time to head back home, much to the children’s disappointment. Nonetheless, the two beloved visitors promised that they’ll be back soon.

The night breeze softly brushed against Kaiden and Victoria’s skin as they walked side by side underneath the moonlight. It was a quiet evening in the humble town, save for the soft bustles of distant shops and houses closing for the day.

“Your meal was impressive, Victoria,” Kaiden slightly smiled with his focus on the dimly lit path before them. “The kids couldn’t get enough of it,” He turned his attention to his new connection, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.”

Victoria let out a small laugh. “Thank you,” she said, “I’m glad everyone enjoyed it. It would be embarrassing if you didn't. I was mighty confident about it.”

“Babs even gave it quite the fitting name,” Kaiden chuckled a bit, “ . . Pizza, was it?”

“Pizza!” Her eyes gleamed with mirth. “Oh, it sounds so silly.” So she said, yet the fondness was written all over her face.

A moment or two passed as the two shared a laughter. The night was still young- so peaceful and serene, as though the very lands haven’t been neck-deep into war a few years ago.

“I love those children, sir Kaiden.” Victoria suddenly muttered, her tone sincere. “That’s why… I want to thank you and all the soldiers who fought for our kingdom. The Argossian Empire, the Royal Flushe, and the mage defects- it wasn’t easy to face any of them. Yet, with all of us fighting together, we have proven we’re so much stronger.”

“You’re right. We did this together,” Kaiden subtly smiled before nodding, “And I’d like to thank you as well, Ma’am Victoria, for staying strong with us.” His gaze then shifted back into the silent night. Their whole day had been an unpredictable jumble. What were the odds of meeting a somewhat familiar face, then spending an entire day with her at the orphanage? That’s when a routine sight came into view. The commander noticed their path en-route toward the Skyharbors, the place where airships docked. Perhaps they missed a turn from getting lost in conversation, “May I ask, where exactly I’m walking you to?”

“The harbor.” She replied with a single glance his way.

As the two got closer to the harbor, so did the truth. Most of the airships sat still inside hangars except for a particular one drawed up on the open center. Compared to the rest, it was a smaller aircraft; obviously meant for private uses. But perhaps what made it more distinct was the figurehead on its bow. It was a wooden carving of a mighty lion; its claws ready to strike and its mouth wide open with a roar.

Kaiden paused at the familiar airship. His brows furrowed in confusion as he started to put two and two together. The familiar face, their strange bond- Hold on . .

“I hope you enjoyed our promised stroll, commander.” Victoria’s voice prompted from beside him.

That voice. The man swiftly looked over his shoulder, catching the Queen of Hearts standing where Victoria once stood. Or rather, she was actually Victoria. Her once dark hair now appeared golden under what little light lit up their path, and her eyes . . Kaiden innocently rubbed his eyes before trying to blink the illusion away. Maybe he was just exhausted?

The Queen’s form neither disappeared nor returned to Victoria’s no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes. Instead, her lips spread into the same amused smile as he continued to be muddled by the sudden revelation.

“Have mercy on your eyes. I am indeed the Queen.” Guin told him, pausing right in front of her ship. The crew behind her took notice of her presence and immediately fell to one knee. “I didn’t mean to keep the truth from you.”

Kaiden instinctively got down on bended knee as well, pressing a fist to his heart in the process, “All is well, Your Heartship.” Formalities. Was all well? A brief silence passed between them until he moved his gaze back to her’s. “ . . a mindblowing stroll, Victoria,” Kaiden smirked at his queen as he stood up. Why not make the most of what could possibly be his last time calling her that? “But if I may ask, what did you mean to do?” He wondered more seriously this time around.

Guin nodded her head in acknowledgement and gestured for everyone to stand up. She only chuckled when Kaiden teased her. “People often forget I have a second name.” She pointed out before addressing his more serious question.

In that instance, her gaze flew past him and onto the village veiled by the night. A forlorn look crossed her features for a short while before she returned her attention to the commander. “I simply wanted to visit the children.” She finally answered. “I’ve been busy handling pressing matters after the war, and I never got the chance to check up on them personally.” Was it really that hard to believe that a royalty such as her came all the way down here to visit orphans?

“I… share a special bond with them.” She shared, one corner of her lips curling upwards into a rueful smirk. What happened to her family, the Blanca, wasn’t exactly a secret. Everyone, so long as they spent enough time in the kingdom, was bound to hear about the tragic tale at some point. “I suppose I simply want them to know there’s someone out there who cares. They’re not alone.”

Kaiden’s gaze never left his queen’s expression once. Right, her own narrative lied in being orphaned at a younger age as well. “You too are not alone,” He mentioned, momentarily pulling their focus away from the children and onto her. She was an orphan, and in someway required the same support regardless of her current standing, “You have a whole kingdom behind you.” Okay, maybe everyone didn’t really have a chance to speak with her. But- “You even have me,” He added more directly, “. . not that you really need me.” A light chuckle escaped his lips following a glance off to the side. She was a queen after all.

For a moment, Guin merely stared at Kaiden, seemingly lost deep in her thoughts. He was right; she wasn’t alone. She was no longer alone. She has thousands of people behind her back, supporting and fighting for her cause. Even this man in front of her…

“No. I do need you.” She murmured, looking at him with a solemn look before a smile broke on her face. “Who will cushion me the next time I fall?” She softly laughed, referring to their mishap of a first meeting. “Or give me an incredible standing ovation while driving a sky steed?” Her lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“Those- are good questions,” Kaiden nodded as he brought his eyes back to her’s. A similar laugh followed shortly after the brief recollection of events. It was no secret that they’ve had the most random encounters. Add a day at the orphanage to the list. “Well if you need me,” His head slightly tilted toward the airships, “You know where to find me.”

It was then when a genuine, warm smile settled on her face; her sanguine eyes holding a soft glow beneath the moonlight. “Thank you, Kaiden. Your support means a lot.” And it would mean so much more if she could somehow integrate him to her more subtle plans. “Well then, I must return to my work. Half of the kingdom is still in ruins after all. I’m glad we stumbled upon each other tonight, although it would be in my best interest if you keep this a secret.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

 

[. D O V E]

Conquering Death!
A King and a Queen; an impending doom approaches. Mechking ​

Arimand has arrived at the manor where the Hearts Royals reside in. He has gotten an invitation by Queen Blanca, one he can’t refuse. Arimand knows why he was summoned and he is not looking forward to it.

Nearly at the gate, Arimand turns to his guard and friend Bob who has accompanied him so far.

“Bob, please wait for me here. No, I am not fine but I need to do this alone.”

Arimand placed a hand on Bob’s shoulder and Bob did the same for him and the two parted ways. Venturing through the gates and to the front door, Arimand knocked three times.

It only took a few moments before the door creaked open, revealing a chestnut-haired man who appeared to be in his early twenties. The man immediately fell to a bow, showing respect to the foreign king before stepping aside to let him in. “Greetings, King of Diamonds. The Queen awaits you in her office.” He delivered in such a professional manner that suggested he was probably one of her royal staffs. “Please, follow me.”

With that, the unnamed staff led the way upstairs and walked down a long hallway before stopping in front of one of the doors. He gave the wooden surface three knocks, “Your Heartship, the King of Diamonds is here.”

“Let him in,” the Queen’s voice finally beckoned from the other side, prompting the servant to open the door and step aside once more, opening the way for Arimand.

“Queen Blanca”, Arimand took a quick bow and stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“The pleasure is mine, King Dornwell.” Guin stood up from behind her desk and gestured to the open seat across from her. “Please do sit down. I know the conference is but a day away and you have much to discuss, so I don’t plan on keeping you for long.” She returned on her seat, a small smile on her face as she cleaned up the pile of documents on the table.

“I believe you already know why I arranged this meeting.” She prompted. If his letter of gratitude was to be believed, the King was well-aware of the great favor she had done for him. “I just have a few questions, is all.”

“Very well then.”
Arimand took a seat and made himself as comfortable as possible.
“I would still like to thank you personally for saving my life. As far as I know, it wasn’t without risk for yourself as well.”

Guin let out a chuckle. “There was a risk, alright,” she cocked an eyebrow in amusement, “As you know, most people don’t really see my craft in a positive light- which is a shame, if I’m being honest. I’d like to think you agree since you experienced it first hand.” If it wasn’t for the magic that everyone despised so much, the saluted King of Diamonds would be rotting fifty feet below the ground now.

“But hey, how can I say no when someone who can travel dimensions and freeze time itself asked me to bring you back?”

Arimand gulped hard. He knew what this meant.
“Yes, I agree. And be assured, your secret is safe with me...I, however, did not expect for William to convince you personally. How did he do it anyway?”
The Queen knew of one terrifying secret and she has another one of her own. But there is another that she will need to know about.

For a moment, Guin simply stared at him, her mind racing as she dug deeper into his statement. She had never mentioned it was William yet the king knew for some reason. Although, she supposed, between the Ace’s proficiency in cryomancy and dimensional magic, it wouldn’t be impossible to reach this conclusion. However, a big part of her couldn’t help but wonder if her theory was right; spirits stay and watch for a moment after their physical death.

“I don’t know for certain but after the war was won, I was helping ward off the remaining Argossians when everything around me suddenly stood still. Time itself stopped moving.” Guin honestly couldn’t believe her eyes when it happened. She was almost certain she was going insane until, “A portal suddenly opened in front of me and out came your Ace. His… treacherous actions during the war led me to believe he was going to attack, but strangely enough, he didn’t. Instead, he asked me a favor.”

She leaned against her chair, eyes fixed on him. “Naturally, I doubted him. I asked why would I do anything for him after everything he has done. He told me this,” she paused, “I’m not the same William you know.” She inhaled sharply out of derision. “Now that just sounded completely absurd, no? But he proved me wrong with his words. He started speaking as if he had known me for a long time.”

“And as it turned out, in a way, he actually did.” Her shoulders rolled to a shrug before she leaned forward and her voice dropped to a whisper. “That William was from multiple futures.”

Arimands eyes darkened, looking at nothing in particular. “I believe you. I have no choice, he spoke to me too after all.” He dreaded to think about it, the moment nobody ever wants to think about. “While I was dead.”

A few seconds passed and Arimand took a deep breath before continuing.
“I doubt this is going to be a quick meeting. What else did he tell you?”

Guin held her breath at the revelation. So, she was right after all. Spirits are aware after they leave their mortal body. Furthermore, that William didn’t just have the ability to stop time itself and bring mortals from another timeline, but communicate with the deceased as well. All these new-found knowledge were so exhilarating.

“Well, since he knew so much, I asked him a few things. Like how I can achieve my goal.” It was still mind-boggling how someone out there could fix her life-long problems if he was only allowed. “Unfortunately, he refused to tell me anything. He said there were greater forces at works which prevented him from doing so. If he altered our timeline too much, he would attract the attention of other entities.” Her sanguine eyes bore into his once more, an even more serious expression crossing her face. “I believe he’s referring to gods and demons.”

“Brace yourself, Queen. You are not ready for the truth.” Arimands eyes pierced hers like ice-cold daggers. “The gods are real and they are active once more.”

After another short pause, he added what he knew about William. “William knew about the significance of this battle, having seen it multiple times as you said. But it is far more important than we could have ever guessed, determining the path of the future for every event to come. It was too important to ignore for the gods, so they intervened.”

Debating what he does and doesn’t want to reveal, Arimand used his magic briefly. A headache shot through him, making him recoil in pain. “William was manipulated by a god, him wanting to wipe us out was no accident.”

Arimand gave Guin some time to process all of this because they had only just begun. He had already known of this for a few days now, but now her suspicions were confirmed.

Guin averted her gaze from the king and rested them on her clenched fists as she absorbed everything. Even though she had her suspicions, the queen has never been the religious type. She was certain these otherworldly beings didn’t exist until she stumbled upon revival magic and learned about the existence of spirits. One could almost hear the gears clicking in her head as she processed the news.

“Then… there’s a god out there who wants to eliminate all mages.” Or worse, there could be gods. “And I assume the second William was sent by a similar being as well…,” she trailed off as her mind continued working, “...And he came to me so he could ask me to save you, a mage, which means…,”

With realization, she faced him. “The gods are in conflict.”

“Correct. We both don’t know enough about the gods to know anything in particular, but that much we can agree on....” And although he hates to admit it, it implies far worse. “But that also means that we need to avoid conflict amongst ourselves, in order to not become powerless pawns against these beings that want to alter our history, our fate...our future!”

“Of course…,” Guin whispered, “Of course, King Dornwell. Hearts, Clubs, Spades and Diamonds; it doesn’t matter. We are all mages, and we are all in danger.” Were the four kingdoms prioritizing the wrong things after all? Should the coalition stand firm even after the war? Would mere mortals such as them even stand a chance against beings with power beyond imaginable?

“King Dornwell, are you possibly thinking of sharing this knowledge to the entire Suits?” The royal conference was quickly approaching; a knowledge such as this, once unleashed, would change the entire world. It was dangerous.

“No, not yet. But I will propose a peace treaty of ten years. Enough for us all to recover and the politics of our nations to finally make peace, however difficult it may be. I don’t think the other royals would believe us and if we would reveal too much, we would reveal...well, your power.” Arimand’s face clearly showed great concern. ”Besides, even if all the royals knew about this, our respective nobles would not care at all. As difficult as it may be, we will be the only ones with this knowledge. For now at least…”

Pleased to hear the king’s response, Guin nodded her head. “Thank you for considering my well-being.” She agreed with his points; sharing this crucial information all at once, especially after a strainful war, would be too much. The four kingdoms would be plunged into hysteria, and that’s honestly the last thing they needed right now.

“I agree about the nobles, too. In fact, King Dornwell, if I’m being honest, I don’t think they’d like your proposal either. I can’t offer any promises, but do know I shall try my best to convince my kingdom into agreeing.” Although with what limited knowledge she could share, she doubted it would be easy. “Then again, with the continent in shambles, I doubt anyone would want to start another war.”

“I thank you very much. I hope that you are correct, but conflicts will inevitably arise either way. It may just be the royals that agree to the treaty, as far as I know, the others are looking forward to a time of peace. Of course, we will have to be vigilant at all times.”

Rubbing his temples, Arimand pondered what else they could do.
“We need a way to make this coalition somewhat permanent if we want to stand a chance. Can I count on you?”

“I promise you, King Dornwell, I will do my best to make sure the four kingdoms work together.” Guin assured. She knew the mages would stand a greater chance if the entire Suits had unity; preserving peace among themselves would be easier if they were one.

“I suggest lowering your ten-year peace treaty to a five-year. I feel as though the nobles will be more inclined to agree if that’s the case. And before the treaty expires, we can call in another meeting to ask if the other leaders would want to prolong the coalition. I imagine after five years, people would have seen reason; the Suits are better off alongside one another, instead of against one another.” She pressed a knuckle against her chin thoughtfully. “Furthermore, I believe we’d be ready to share what we know by that time. Once this bigger threat has been introduced, we’ll surely gain their favors.”

“I agree. Even if the nobles still won’t agree to a permanent coalition, we could still extend our peace treaty by another five years.” Scratching his head, Arimand thought about the dangers it would all bring. “If we reveal the truth or not will have to be seen after those five years, they might still not be ready yet. If we are lucky, other signs will have shown themselves.”

He lowered his head as his mood fell. “...Or if we are unlucky.”

They might not even make it past five years; Guin silently continued the thought. Even the Queen of Hearts herself couldn’t deny the horridness of their situation. She would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t feeling any tinge of terror either. The fact that there were almighty beings out to destroy them was beyond worrying.

“Don’t lose faith, King Dornwell.” She said, mindful of the disheartened king. “We’ve been through all sorts of hell and back; yet, here we still stand.” The flames of determination smoldered behind her sanguine orbs. “Whether it be the Empire, the Flushe, or whatever wicked beings plotting our demise, we won’t go down without a fight. Nothing should stop us.”

“Thank you for your encouraging words, Queen Blanca. However…” Arimands eyes seemed as cold as if he was still dead when they met Guin’s fiery ones. “I am not worried about myself or our kingdoms, I am worried about you!”

Taken aback by the sudden admission, Guin stared at him with wide eyes. “...Me?” She echoed, confusion plain in her voice. “Why?”

“William has revealed a lot about the Realm of the Dead while I was there. I didn’t even know I was dead at first, until he explained it to me and I saw my own body. I also saw other souls leaving in the distance. They were leaving to the plain and the palace of the god of the dead, Deim.”

Arimand only paused briefly before he continued, dread still lingering within him. “Had William not stopped time, my soul, my spirit, would have been hunted by Deim’s Spectral Reapers. And although this is important to know, there is another god. One who is much more dangerous for you.”

“Dorian. He will learn of your capabilities to revive the dead and hunt you down with his disciples.” Arimand averted his gaze. “Gods...We still know only so little, yet they seek to control whatever they see fit.”

Guin felt her lips quivering. She didn’t quite know what to say or feel. The man basically told her the answers to her life-long questions and confirmed that yes, her family was still somewhere. “There’s a realm for the dead and a god who governs them?” She muttered to herself, eyes darting to anywhere but the king. Her mind instantly began racing, giving birth to thousands of questions at the depths of her mind.
She was a melting pot of emotions by the time she finished processing his revelations; shock, fear, hope, and excitement all pervading her system. With clenched fists, she returned gaze on the Arimand.

“So it seems…,” she started, “The gods… just because they’re way more powerful doesn’t give them the right to control us…” Her voice cracked with derision. “That’s unfair.” If that was the case then in the end, these so-called higher beings were no different than the corruptors of the Suit’s system. They would exploit their powers to trample and cripple the ones below.

Guin could never accept that.

“Thank you for these, King Dornwell.” She inhaled deeply. “But I will continue perfecting my craft.” She would never stop. Especially now that she had her answers. She will bring her family back; gods be damned.

“I never imagined that it would deter you. Still, in a few years, these...disciples will try and interrupt your work. I can’t imagine them being too powerful, if they are not directly aided by their god.” Arimand thought about his interaction with Hofund, the warnings, and the deal they had made. “They are still too distant, too strong, too mysterious for us to understand what they are and what they want. They may still ignore us for all eternity, or seek to rule and oppress us. We simply don’t know yet. I hope that we can find answers…And maybe even gods that will aid us, if they are all indeed in conflict with each other.”

Guin nodded her head in both agreement and understanding. However, his latter statement made her think of the strange, indescribable feeling lingering at the back of her mind after her meeting with the second William. It was weird, but she just knew he did something to her. She couldn’t quite comprehend what it was just yet, but she was certain he left something within her.

“If I may ask, was William the one who told you about Dorian and his disciples as well?” She questioned with knitted brows.

With a sigh, Arimand relaxed himself a bit. “Yes, he was. I can only imagine that it was to warn you, but then again...He would have told it to you personally, correct?”
He was still unsure of what he could make of it, both of them interacting with a William of the future, or rather of several futures. “At least we know that we can more or less rely on William. “Our” William is no longer under the influence of any god and this William is clearly aiding us. For what purpose, again, we don’t really know. My best guess is that we are so essential to the continuation of the kingdoms, and the coalition, that any disruptions would prove devastating...This is causing me migraines.”
Arimand had still not fully recovered from his death by mana sickness, not only limiting his use of magic but also causing him intense pain all over his body. With this much going on, even after the war, he needed more time to rest. Alas, time was not a luxury they had.

It seemed as though the king wasn’t the only one in pain as Guin brought a hand up to massage the bridge of her nose. “Forgive me, King Dornwell. I’m sure you’re still strained by everything that happened. I told you I wouldn’t keep you for long yet here we are.” She let out a deep breath before letting her hand gently fall on the table.

“I just have one more question and a small favor, if you will.” She adjusted herself on her seat. “The William of our world, what do you plan to do with him? And… may I have your permission to talk with him privately?”

“You need not apologize, this was going to happen no matter what. As for William...He seems rather broken by the news of what he did and I don’t plan to hold him accountable for something he had no control over…” Arimand would rather not think about how Will is feeling right now, having gone against everything he stood for. “As for a talk, you have my permission. Although he will also need some time to recover first, I am sure you understand.”

“Of course, I’d rather not rush either. All of us have been through a lot.” A solemn look crept on her face. She didn’t really know the Ace of Diamonds that well- what little interaction they had were all thanks to their positions- however, she understood that he was a man of duty. Even during the All Hands on Deck meeting, William was absolutely keen on protecting his people; he even exposed her magic’s nature to defend his former king.

Finally, a small smile tugged on the queen’s lips as she looked at her guest. “Thank you for this, King Dornwell. You don’t know how glad I am to have someone who understands.”

“Likewise, Queen Blanca. It is a relief to have someone else who can see the bigger picture. I am sure we will have need of a great many meetings like this in the future.” Arimand arose from his seat and bowed in respect.

In a similar fashion, Guin stood up and returned the gesture. “Of course. Hopefully in better circumstances.” She let out a tired chuckle before slightly raising her shoulders. More than half of her kingdom was destroyed while his was entirely in ruins. “I’ll see you in the meeting tomorrow, King Dornwell. I will be cheering for your proposal.”

“I am counting on your support. Until tomorrow, Queen Blanca. May our efforts not be in vain.”
With that, Arimand left the mansion. Bob was waiting for him outside and was relieved to see him return less stressed as when he entered.

 

[Coyote Hart]

Finally, all the secrets come out to the light...
Goonfire . D O V E Coyote Hart
​

Amidst the ruins of Valencia, one building still stood proud… well, mostly. Following a narrow victory versus the Argossians, city hall became a major command post for coalition forces in Hearts territory. The remaining Hearts royals currently call Valencia ‘home’, as they have yet to retake their capital of Corda. However, something else also resides beneath the surface, under a thinning veneer of nonexistence and irrelevance...

The need to avoid the prying eyes of others drove Leolin to request a meeting far from city hall. Among the airship graveyard, he waited for Guin and Twig to show up. He cast his forlorn gaze across the scarred land as he leaned on the wreckage of an Argossian sky steed. The blue hour approached, that last glimmer of golden light rapidly waning, and with it, the ace’s power.

From out in the distance came Twig, trudging through the fine rubble of the city. His blond hair shined in the fading light. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be much wrong with him. The Jack of Hearts had on his signature button-up shirt and bow. But if one were to look deeper in, they’d notice that this wasn’t the usual soft-spoken Jack. His bow was haphazardly tied. His hair was slightly unruly. There was a fragile glimmer in his eye, which seemed to threaten to shatter at any moment.

Of course, Twig had a feeling he knew what this conversation was going to be about. He was prepared. The sword on his hip wasn’t the usual ornate blade he carried and there was a bulge in his doctor’s bag-- the outlines of a mask.

It didn’t take long for the Queen to follow the Jack’s appearance, materializing right beside the Ace as the sun sank deeper in the horizon. Her golden curls danced with the cold air, her paling skin soaked with twilight. Red eyes darted across the two men, subtle lines of exhaustion present on the skin beneath them.

“Greetings, Leo and Twig.” Guin began, giving both royalties a nod of acknowledgement. It has been a while since the three of them got together like this. This- as in an assemblage with just the three of them, separated from the rest of the world. It was in moments like this when Guin would let her guard down, even just a little, and drop her tense composure.

However, she couldn’t find the will to do the same as she stood in front of them in the wreckage of their once proud city. She was no fool; she knew why Leolin had arranged this meeting, and deep inside, she has always known that it was inevitable. She was a woman of secrets and he was a seeker of truth. It would only be a matter of time before he unveiled any of them.

In years past, Leo was known for his warm smile. Things felt different, though; not the slightest grin adorned his features, even when his usual companions appeared. He only carried Amé this time, without the elegant Hot Poker. Most noticeably, he didn’t relax. Whatever he wanted to discuss, it was clear he worried about it.

“Guin,” Leo greeted back without the usual teasing or fruity inflection. “Well… where do I start? No doubt, we’ve lost quite a bit of sleep after everything that transpired here.” He drew in a deep breath, his frazzled nerves evident by the awkward silence that ensued. “However,” he continued, “There is one thing that could help me, if not all three of us.”

Twig shifted awkwardly on his feet. A pit of nervousness was growing in his stomach, mingling with the blistering radiation of his grief. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Out with it then,” Twig said. Immediately after he said it, he cringed internally. The statement was so much like something the White Plague would say. In the next couple of years, when he was able to cast off the duality of his identity and embrace both Twig and the White Plague, his harsh, staccato statements would vanish. But not today.

Guin quickly took notice of Twig’s uncharacteristic manner. Her years of working with the Jack taught her that he was someone very vulnerable to slip ups. In most cases, she’d try to silently warn him; subtly signal with her hands or narrow her eyes at him to tell him to be more cautious. Alas, such wasn’t the case this time for the queen knew it was time for them to drop the charade in front of Leolin.

She returned her eyes on her childhood friend, keeping a calm facade in contrast to his worried gaze. “I know.” She said, the ends of her lips curling into a small, understanding smile. “We have much to discuss.”

That was it. Leo knew his growing suspicions had substance. “So you saw it coming, too,” he sighed. “I must say, you covered your tracks well. I don’t think anyone else has noticed yet, which is why I’d say discretion is a virtue in this case.” He realized his prefacing built tension, even if he hadn’t meant to do so.

“Er, moving on… I noticed some changes that are too closely spaced to be coincidence. For one thing, the Jokers’ modus operandi changed suddenly; from flagrant terrorist organization to simple rebels against haughty nobles. Their hostile activities in Hearts territory also decreased within the past few years. Then, your disappearances at odd hours, coupled with your inconsistent change in demeanor, Twig…” He squinched his eyes shut after holding his breath momentarily. “I fear I know the answer to this, but… what is going on right under my nose?”

Twig took an unsteady, shaking breath. There it was. Leo caught on, three years down the road. Twig knew it; Guin probably knew it. There was no point in hiding anything anymore. But where should he start? The years of training with an Argossian? That fateful meeting with Guin, Cass, Jake, and Samael? Twig decided that he had to start from the beginning of it all.

“Do… do you remember, three years ago, when the right-hand man of the Joker leader was captured and imprisoned in Ariandel?” Twig began. His voice was just above a whisper, but it was carried in the air to both Guin and Leo’s ears regardless. The wind picked up, sending the red and orange autumn leaves billowing around them with the sky darkening as dusk disappeared into night. Twig had his eyes pointed to the ground, avoiding Leo’s eyes.

“When I heard the news, I resolved to go to Ariandel and question this Joker,” Twig said, “But when I arrived at the cell, I realized that this Joker was no monster preying on others. He was someone just like you and me… young, and startlingly handsome. I think… it might have been love at first sight, as strange as it sounds.”

Twig paused, unsure of where to go next.

Guin seized the opportunity to introduce her involvement. “By a twist of fate, it was also at that moment when I sent an associate to,” she paused briefly, pondering about her words, “Procure the Joker.” She was well-aware she was basically admitting to a crime against their neighboring kingdom.

However, she didn’t give Leolin any chance to comment as she soldiered on. “Save your breath for now. I am well aware it was rather unbecoming of me, a queen who’s supposed to be the paragon of justice.” She fixed her eyes on the Ace, gauging his face for any sign that she should stop and rethink all of this, but she found none.

“But again, I am a Queen. I swore an oath to my people- our people- that I will do anything in my power to bring peace into our lands.” There was it again; the flames of conviction raging behind the blonde’s sanguine orbs. “As you’ve said, the Jokers used to be nothing but flagrant terrorists, sowing chaos in every corner of our lands because they were trying to send a message. They were fighting for a cause; one that I think the three of us have always known and understood but never got the opportunity to do something about.” It was obvious she was referring to the caste system which has been long scourging the kingdoms with oppression. “But sadly, they were misguided. Their leader at that time was a foolish man. Granted, leeching off the Argossians was a clever move seeing the Jokers were small and powerless without the Empire’s technology, but he should have known better than to aid them in capturing Parma.”

“And so, as soon as I,” there was that pause again, “found out about his death, I sent my most loyal associate to secure the organization’s next candidate for leadership. And as fate had it, the Joker with Twig was the right hand.” Jake Parkinson. He was an interesting man, albeit a little too snarky and annoying to work with. Whether his passing was a shame or not, Guin couldn’t quite decide. “As you can tell, Twig has been accidentally dragged into this business in the process.”

After she sent the said man a scrutinizing glance, the blonde flung her attention back to their fiery friend. Leolin probably didn’t need to know that things got heated during the meeting and there were a few threats thrown here and there. “It was then when we all realized we are fighting for the same cause. I offered allegiance between the Kingdom and the Jokers, and took it upon myself, with the help of Twig, to lead them forward on a better path.”

“Of course, since I was basically dating the Joker leader, I felt obliged to chip in and help guide them on the right path,” Twig added on with a grim smile. He was glad that Guin had taken the lead and explained what needed to be said. Twig slowly retrieved the bulge from his doctor's bag. It was his snow-white plague doctor mask, in all its pointy glory. Twig raised it in the air, "I think you might recognize this. Please, Leo, I want you to know that we don't mean any ill harm to you."

An amazed whistle left the dumbstruck ace’s lips. “This is… a lot more than I had guessed. A lot to swallow.” He had grown pale throughout the lengthy explanation. “Gods… people always presumed they were hidden somewhere dark and mysterious, when in fact, they‒you‒were right there, in the palace.” One could almost hear everything clicking into place in Leo’s mind. “And then some of those new people among your staff are really… A-and your knowledge of Argossian guns… and… and...” His pointed finger slowly curled inward.

The assurance helped soften the blow of this bombshell somewhat. He slumped against the fuselage of the sky steed before continuing. “You guys… you’re playing such a risky game right now... but I can see why. To this day, I feel as though I’ve been slowly cleaning up my own predecessors’ mistakes. It really feels as though another coalition is needed just for that. Mount that atop the stack of grievances against noble houses and royalty, and it’s a powder keg.”

Twig held his breath when Leo began to talk, but as soon as he said that he understood them, Twig released his pent up breath of air. He was genuinely scared of the possibility that Leo would draw his sword and impeach the two of them there and then. It felt like a rushing wave of relief that Leo was going to accept them for who they were.

"I'm afraid it goes deeper than that," Twig said, "Just recently, the leader of the Jokers… he…"

Twig choked on the next word. Died. Passed on. Left our world. Twig wanted to say it, but the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Part of it was denial that Jake was truly dead. The familiarity of Jake's scent in their shared room in the Joker base was so present… it seemed impossible that the man was truly gone. It was impossible that Twig wouldn't be able to clasp his hand on Jake's shoulder when he needed the extra support, sprawl out together on the grassy grounds around the Joker base in warm companionship, or point his smallsword at him as they engaged in a friendly duel. Yes, the news of Jake's death was real. But was it really?

"He… he.." Twig found himself unable to continue. Tears were flowing down his face, and he gave up, skipping the word entirely, "I've now… been given the burden as the leader of the Jokers."

Much like the sobbing man, Guin was pleased with Leolin’s response although she didn’t have the time to express it since their friend bursted into tears. She walked towards Twig and gently laid a hand on his shoulder, fully aware of the grief he was going through. She couldn’t find it in herself to tell him that it was all right; he should accept the loss because everything was going to get better eventually. Guin refused to be a hypocrite.

“As you might have heard, I contributed thousands of soldiers to the Coalition. Suffice to say, most of them were Jokers who joined the fight in their own accords in hopes of correcting their past mistake. This only shows that the Jokers, when aligned with the right vision and guidance, can be more than terrorists.” She retracted her hand, straightening her posture as she once again focused on Leo. “I believe that the Jokers- no, we are now agents of change. And change? Change always requires risks.”

She reached a hand into her dress’ pocket, shuffling for a bit before something finally left its depths. It was a black mask. Unlike Twig’s Plague Doctor mask, hers was rather plain, saved for the golden lines trimming its ends. It was a mask that neither the Ace nor anybody outside of the organization would be familiar with. The True Queen, as most of them called her, was someone who pulled shots from the shadows, away from prying eyes.

“Twig and I have made our choices. We are willing to risk it all to change the world.”

Leolin knew the whole world was falling apart around them. He felt their pain, even shared it. He slipped between them and draped an arm over each of his friends’ shoulders, the high collar of his jacket and gathered shoulders of his cloak shielding all from skin contact. What was there to tell them? That they had been through hell? That he mourned their loss? It all went without saying. “Let it all out,” he merely whispered. Leo was a firm believer that pent-up emotion was unhealthy.

‘Risk’ was such an understatement. Even a well-rounded man such as Leo had a difficult time finding a better term, though. Guin’s resolve made him consider what he was willing to risk for his ideals. She, Twig, and thousands of other men and women were potentially putting their heads on the figurative—and perhaps someday, literal—chopping block for this. “You’re both like family to me, you know that?” he reminded them. “And that’s why I’ve made up my mind on something.” In the ensuing pause, the ace’s lips curled upwards in a tender smile.

With both of the remaining Heart royals’ hands on his shoulders, Twig continued to sob until the tears finally ran dry. It felt nice to finally be able to let go of the secrets and to no longer pretend that he was doing fine when Jake’s death shattered his heart. It honestly was painful leaving Leo in the dark for those long three years. Twig had wondered what Leo’s reaction would be if he knew, whether he’d be angry, disappointed, or otherwise. To know that Leo accepted their decision was the best of best outcomes. And walking around, pretending that Jake’s death didn’t affect him for the last few days as he struggled to take on the new duties as the Joker leader wasn’t too good for him. It was nice to finally let it all out, even if he was embarrassing himself in front of Guin and Leo.

When the tears subsided, Twig reached into his shirt pocket and procured a handkerchief, using it to wipe away the tears from his eyes as well as blow his nose. He then turned his attention to what Leo was saying, that he had made a decision.

“Sorry about that,” Twig said in regards to his unroyal behavior. He pivoted his head to look at Leo, “Whatever your decision is, Leo, I’m sure both of us will accept it.”

Secretly, Twig hoped that Leo would decide to join in with them. With the Ace of Hearts in their ranks, their dangerous mission would become much easier to accomplish.

On the other hand, Guin closed her eyes and reveled at the warmth the three of them shared. It reminded her of a particular moment she had days ago, when time stood still and she found herself in the loving embrace of her family. Of course, the warmth she was feeling right now couldn’t compare to the one she felt back then, but it was warmth nonetheless.

She opened her eyes when Twig apologized, gandering at his tear-stained face as he calmed down. Finding no words to say, the queen simply shot him a gentle smile of understanding before casting her gaze back on Leo.

“What Twig said is right. We’re just glad you understand us.” She added. The tender smile on Leo’s lips reminded her that he has always been her furnace. Even back when they were children, even back when she lost everything, even back when she harbored ill-feelings towards him; Leolin has always been there for her. She could only wish that it would remain that way even after she revealed the rest of her secrets.

From there, Leo pulled another handkerchief, which he offered to Twig to supplement the damp one. “Of course I understand. Most of my time as Ace has been spent trying to make us look more relatable to the average folk,” he stated. “So… I’ve made up my mind that I’ll do what I can... from the sidelines.” He quickly followed up on the last clause, “Like you, I’m a well-known figure and among the most powerful magic users in the world. I fear people might recognize me, merely by my aura. That is why I offer my own support from the shadows, as well—so I don’t jeopardize the fruit of your labors.”

“Thank you, Lion.” Guin whispered with a tender smile, delighted to hear his response. With the Ace’s support, even by the shadows, the Jokers would be even more of a force to be reckoned with. Top that to the fact that they’d no longer need to worry about him toppling them from their positions; the Hearts have truly become a safe haven for their organization. Just as she promised. Just as she planned.

Twig nodded in understanding. It made sense that Leo decided to work in the shadows. When he first joined the Jokers, Twig had a difficult time finding a way to reveal his identity to those he trusted while keeping it away from those who couldn’t be trusted as much. He was sure that once everything went into motion, Leo could end up playing a more open role in the Jokers.

“That’s fair,” Twig replied, “Any help is appreciated. And speaking of it…”

Twig rummaged through his doctor’s bag with his free hand and pulled out two skulls, one stacked on top of the other.

“Guin, I think these would be best used in Leo’s hands,” Twig said, “What do you think?”

The skulls reminded Twig about the events that occurred a few days ago with Arimand. He wanted to ask Guin how she knew revival magic, as well as clear up some lingering suspicions that he had. Twig hadn’t had the opportunity til now to ask, since Twig had been busy with administrative and management duties for the past few days at the Joker base.

The Queen eyed the artefact thoughtfully. “The Chaos Skulls,” she murmured, loud enough so it would only reach their ears even though they were already in seclusion. Admittedly, Guin was shocked when she first learned Twig took them from William for she was busy casting her spell when the deed was done. A part of her was worried since he stole it from a fallen, foreign Ace, but she quickly saw the light in his action.

“You’re right. This artefact is better off with Leo. William...,” her eyes squinted as her mind wandered off to the short man, memories of him swamping back. “...Can’t be trusted with these items.” She slightly spread her arms, gesturing to their wreckage of a city.

“However, I do advise for the Chaos Skulls to be used cautiously. Nobody has any idea that it’s in our possession. I doubt the Diamonds would react well if they find out.” It was technically stealing. Nevertheless, the skulls weren’t the first artefact they stole and she doubted it would be the last. Discretion would be their key until they reach farther phases of their plans.

Leo cocked his head to the side, curious about the artifact they were discussing. Then, he realized they were indeed those Chaos Skulls his former equal possessed. “How did you even get these? It feels as though you would’ve had to pry them from the cold, dead, crushing-gauntleted hands of William.” He took both of them and stared blankly, unsure of his next move. “Were these really national treasures, or simply pieces from a traitor’s private collection?”

“I don’t know, but William had no qualms against using it on us,” Twig said, placing the skulls into Leo’s hands, “The Diamond kingdom neither should have nor deserve to have the skulls in their hands anymore.”

“As for how I got it,” Twig said, “It was honestly simple. I just quickly snatched it from the ground. My Yi Fenca training hasn’t all been for nothing.”

Twig frowned. He hadn’t actually told either of the royals about Marillys. Seeing as this was a time when all secrets were about to be thrown into the open, Twig decided that this would be as good of a time as any to tell them about his training.

“Speaking of Yi Fenca, I have something to admit,” Twig said, his voice getting nervous, “I harbored an Argossian noble for about a year. His name is Marillys Argossia, I think you know him from the battle a few days ago. He taught me my Yi Fenca, as well as gave me this:”

Twig drew his Argossian steel smallsword and stabbed it into the ground. He then waited for the other two royal’s reactions. He hadn’t even told Guin about this secret of his, seeing as it was something that he could well be executed for.

So understandably, the female stared at him with her mouth slightly agape, clearly shocked by the admittance. Forming an allegiance with the Jokers was one thing, but helping out an Argossian- a high ranker nonetheless- was outrageous. Empire dogs deserved no kindness, especially after everything they’ve done.

However, this was Twig. He has always been absurdly kind- a trait of his that she has always disliked yet still found admirable.

“I recognize the name.” She said, letting out a sigh. If the information that was given to her was to be believed, Marillys Argossia was a homunculus who had been directly connected with the Jokers before. Furthermore, he led Imperial platoons during the invasion and has taken the lives of hundreds of mages. “Twig, what compelled you to aid one of our invaders?” There was no anger in her hushed voice, just pure desire to understand the younger royal.

"When I came across him, he was traveling around the Four Suits, and he had lost his memory" Twig responded, "I provided him somewhere to stay and someone to talk to, even though I knew he was my enemy. And in return, he taught me the art of Argossian swordsmanship… I never really saw him as the killer that he probably was. If someone doesn’t even have the memories of their atrocious acts, can you really say that they were the man who committed them?"

“I understand you’re a healer, Twig.” Guin responded, brow furrowed. “And I also understand why you kept this a secret.” If the circumstances were any different, for sure he would be tossed into death row. “But please be more cautious. Not everyone deserves your kindness. Next time, I’d like you to approach me about such matters first.” At the end of the day, It wasn’t unusual for dogs to bite the hands that were helping them.

Twig understood where Guin's worry came from, although he knew that it wasn't applicable in this situation.

"Alright, next time I'll check in with you," Twig agreed, "But I think the kindness was well spent this time around. I convinced Marillys to stay regardless of the outcome of this war. His strength will be useful in furthering our goals."

Leolin stowed the skulls under the cover of his cloak, all the while listening to the confessions. Truly, the priests would be jealous that they couldn’t get this dirt on the three for that blackmail scheme they called ‘selling indulgences.’

However, his calm demeanor flipped as he quickly shared Guin’s reaction. “You saved whom!?” He clasped a hand around his mouth to stop himself from making a scene. The queen was much cooler and more logical, making her the natural choice for addressing this. “Twig... you have a heart of gold. Guin? Er, what do we do, in case he’s dangerous?”

“Like what we do to all threats- eliminate.” She responded without a second thought. “It’s our duty to protect our kingdom. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” It wouldn’t be the first or the last time they would be doing something as such, so Guin could only hope Twig would understand.

“I really do think he can be trusted,” Twig said, not knowing absolutely if he truly believed what he just said, “When his memory came back, he seemed unhappy to rejoin the Argossian army. I’m certain that he has some empathy for humans… but, if I’m wrong, I suppose there’s no choice… although I really don’t want it to end like that.”

“Of course. Nobody in their right mind would wish death.” Guin said, a forlorn look replacing the cool and committed expression on her face. It was a look that held underlying secrets. Secrets which are all waiting to be dug.

Twig turned to Guin, his mind focusing on the word death. Alongside Jake’s death, another topic of death was how Guin was able to resurrect Arimand. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to ask.

“Speaking of which,” Twig said carefully, “What happened with Arimand a few days ago? How do you know revival magic? Why do you know it?”

“I’ve been wondering this myself,” Leo added. He seemed more interested than suspicious.

A little caught off-guard by the barrage of questions, the queen took a few moments before responding. “It’s… a long story.” She began, eyes darting between the two men.

This was it. The moment she has long been waiting for. Whether it was out of dreadfully, stomach-churning paranoia or the longing for anyone to accept and understand her, she could not know. Either case, it didn’t matter. The moment of truth was here, and she might as well just get it over with.

“I… am a necromancer.” She revealed, cautiously. “My interest in studying the so-called dark arts began when… when…,” it was almost as if there was a huge lump stuck in her throat and she found herself staring at Leolin, “...when it happened.” Slowly, her childhood friend’s face shifted and he began to look like the very man she despised the most, his father. Her mind was playing tricks on her again, but as she gazed upon him, she found the courage to continue. “When the former Ace of Hearts massacred my family.”

Anger. There was anger in her voice. One that she could never get rid of every time she spoke of the deceased Hravart. There was a smoldering wildfire beneath her sanguine orbs; an unpredictable fire first ignited by a wicked man, fueled by strong vengeance, until it grew and grew and grew. Guin knew it might consume her at some point.

“I lost everything on that day. Everything. Just because a man, more powerful than anyone, thought he should take them from me.” She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles turning paper white. “I just can’t accept that. I can never accept that.”

“That was why I decided to do something about it. Before you found me Leo, I spent months wandering around the streets of the capital. Each day was hell; I was barely getting by, my survival solely depended on what disgusting leftovers other people can spare and what dirty water I can find. When I was on the verge of death, of giving up, a boy found me. Declan, my personal telepath, he taught me the ways of the streets. I learned how to steal, how to swindle, and how to run from authorities. It was during one of our escapades, when I got separated from him in a dark alleyway, that I first heard of the magic which can bring people back to life. Necromancy.” A smile crept its way to her face, a bit damaged and eerie. “I didn’t give it much mind at first. Then Declan suddenly disappeared and I found myself wandering back to the ashes of my home where I found Leo waiting.”

When she returned her gaze on the Ace, his face was back to its normal form. She could no longer see any remnants of his father on him. “He helped me get back on my feet and continue my education. In the academy, my eyes were opened to the unbounded potential of magic. Think about it: there are plenty of mages out there- like us- who can level an entire village with a single spell or more. If magicks for killing people exist and are allowed, then why not the magic which can bring them back?” She can’t possibly be the only one thinking about this. Sure, there were plenty of ethical questions looming behind the idea, but were the legal magicks really any better? At the end of the day, most of them were used for hurting and killing.

“Suffice to say, I started studying necromancy behind everybody’s backs. I was afraid- and I am still afraid- that nobody will accept and understand.” It was no secret that the mere rumor of anyone practicing the banned art could lead to their demise. “When you became the Ace, Leo, I disappeared for years to perfect my craft. I never truly achieved anything aside from raising mindless thralls until I got a sample of Two’s mana.” It was three years ago, when they first fought the Royal Flushe in Atria.

“I studied his sample and found traces of foreign magic which can revive him whenever he dies. It’s why he was still alive when you ripped his head off. I call it revival magic.” She glanced at Twig; she knew that as a doctor, being able to revive someone must be something which crossed his mind at some point. “It was only a year ago when I succeeded in making a similar spell, but it’s still far from perfect.”

It brought her to her next statements. “As you’ve seen, Twig, it’s a very taxing process.” She referred to when she collapsed immediately after reviving the fallen king. She then turned to face Leolin. “King Dornwell died after the war ended. I brought him back to life.”

At the end of Guin's speech, Twig stared at her with glassy, fragile eyes filled with unfiltered shock. This… this was the same person Twig had been working with for three years?! A necromancer?!

Twig disliked necromancy. He thought it was immoral. While most harmful magics only did damage to the physical body and left the soul unharmed to go to Deim's realm of the dead, necromancy corrupts that soul. Turns that soul into something it isn't supposed to be.

But Twig realized that he couldn't really blame Guin. Right now, with Jake's death so fresh on his mind, Twig wondered if Guin had the power to bring him back to life.

"I don’t think I can condone your actions,” Twig finally said, “There’s a choice in fighting a war with someone else. There’s no choice when you’re forced to be a necromancy test subject. The only comparable thing is… murder.”

“That being said, I can’t bring myself to blame you,” Twig added, “The magic you have learned is capable of saving many lives. And to be honest, I do wonder if it is possible to bring Jake back.”

Guin’s composure visibly withered at Twig’s initial response, her head and shoulders dropping. While she didn’t expect him- or anyone for that matter- to fully accept her, there was still that pang of hurt within. It was his latter question that forced the queen to look at him.

“I believe it is possible.” She responded. “Everybody thought bringing the dead back to life, not as brainless zombies, was impossible, but you’ve seen me do it. With enough time, I can… I can do so much more.”

“So you’re still on the level of thrall creation,” Twig said sorrowfully, “Well, it would be better that Jake not be revived. I’d rather let him rest peacefully.”

Twig looked at Guin and noticed the sad expression on her face. He made an effort to smile and clapped Guin on her shoulder.

“Hey, cheer up,” Twig said, “You have your reasons for practicing necromancy, and I respect that. Besides, what kind of friend would I be to push you away after admitting such a thing? I promise to not say a peep to any other soul about this.”

Leolin had remained quiet throughout the latest confession, a distant look in his eyes. He was elsewhere, reliving a darker time in his mind. “Yes, I remember. I had erected a small monument at the Blanca house and stopped at least once a month to maintain it and leave flowers. I mourned the loss, even thought you had been killed. My own mother died some time after the murders, leaving me to face him. I hated his thrice-damned guts.” Leo’s hands curled into clenched fists. “We had an argument that turned violent. Each time he slapped me across the face, I saw one of his heinous crimes. Political assassinations. Brutal murders he personally carried out… including…” He stopped, knowing Guin and Twig would connect the dots from there. A single, steaming tear skidded down his cheek.

“Guin… I don’t blame you for getting into the dark arts,” the ace finally said. “In fact… While I hoped you wouldn’t, I would’ve been more surprised if you hadn’t. You’re not the only person who turned to this practice in hopes of making such a breakthrough. And while the idea of raising thralls chills me to the bone, I’m glad the fruit of your labors was at least something as profound as the resurrection of a man as patriotic and determined as Ari. I, too, will breathe nary a word of your secret. Use your talents responsibly, old friend.”

A queen should never show vulnerability- her teachers told her when she was still an aspirant studying law. For a long while, Guin adhered to that teaching, cladding herself a nigh-impenetrable armor of control so flawlessly that even she would sometimes forget about it. She has been pretending for so long she has forgotten what it felt to crack open. She never realized it, but she has always been waiting for someone to take notice and free her.

Guin’s small form softly quivered, her eyes glazing before tears started slipping through her lashes. “The two of you…,” she took a sharp breath, “don’t know how much this means to me....” She brought her hands up and pressed the insides of her wrists against her burning eyes. “For fifteen years, I’ve been longing for some to understand. I just… I’m so tired of being alone…” She sniffled, completely unused to this side of her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, you won’t be alone again,” Twig said, “The three of us… we’ll get through all this together. Like one family.”

“That’s right. The way I see it, our fates are tightly woven together from here,” Leolin contributed.

Twig tipped his head back to look at the sky. It was going to be a moonless night. With a voice where all the stress, facades, and guilt audibly unraveled, Twig commented, “I’m so glad that these secrets are now out in the open.”

What an interesting night. As well as being able to finally release the secrets of their Joker involvements, Twig was also able to reveal the secret of his Yi Fenca, something he was afraid he would be executed for. And he was also able to learn of the horrible, horrible crimes of Leolin’s father, as well as Guin’s dark hobby. With those secrets out, Twig was certain he could completely and unwaveringly trust Leo and Guin-- their hearts were in the right place.

“Oh, right,” Twig remembered. He moved his gaze off of the moonless sky and asked Guin, “That day when you revived Arimand, you were saying some strange things, and I was somehow teleported from the healer’s tent all the way out into the battlefield. What happened?”

Guin shut her eyes tight, quelling the rampant emotions within her before opening them again. She took a deep breath before answering, “William.” Her mind recalled everything that transpired, from the moment she first saw him until the last. It was all so mind-boggling that she didn’t even know where to start. “Prepare yourselves. What you’re about to hear will change everything you know about our world.”

“After the war was won, I was busy driving off the last Argossians when... everything stopped. It was almost as if time froze for everything else but me.” Guin shared. “A portal opened shortly after and out came the Ace of Diamonds. He asked me a favor which I quickly denied, knowing full well how he betrayed the Coalition. However, his words caught me off-guard...”

Her dulling eyes wandered past the healer and onto the ruins in the background. They reminded her of the look in William’s face as he told her: “I am not the same William you know.” It came off as a whisper, as if she was afraid an invisible being might hear. “It was ridiculous to hear. I kept my doubts until he started speaking as if... he really knew me. My hidden talent and my deepest desire, he knew of them. I asked him how then he revealed he was from the future- several futures.”

Guin focused on her companions, gauging their expressions. “There are multiple versions of our world. The William I met must’ve learned how to traverse them. What’s more, he confirmed there are versions of myself who managed to bring my family back. I asked him how, but he wouldn’t answer me. He told me instead that time follows a specific line. If he altered too much, he would attract the attention of more nefarious entities.” She paused, wondering if she should say the next words. She would be revealing a knowledge that only she and the King of Diamonds shared. A knowledge, if unleashed incorrectly, might plunge the entire world into deeper chaos.

Guin let out a sigh. She was tired of keeping secrets. Leo, Twig and she have already come so far. What was one more to the pile? They were bound to know sooner or later.

“The gods exist. King Dornwell and I theorized they might be in conflict. One side wishes to eliminate all mages and the other does not.”

“That… I didn’t expect that,” Twig said as he tried to process what he had just heard, “It sounds like my teacher was right all along… the gods do exist.”

This was a weird night, with a lot of information that Twig could hardly process. But Guin’s recount of what had occured was the most puzzling. So there were several worlds, huh? And there was some large interdimensional dispute that was threatening to seep into this world. What did that mean for the Jokers, nobles, and mages? To be honest, Twig supposed that there was no other option than to live their lives normally until the information became relevant and appeared on their front doors.

“I’m going to need to do some serious thinking tonight,” Twig said as he yawned. He hadn’t realized how late it was. Being the type who went to bed early and got up early, this was a time that he should’ve been using to wind down.

Leo whisked a cold sweat from his forehead. News of gods clashing troubled him deeply. “It sounds as though we’re pawns on their chessboard,” he huffed. “That doesn’t sit well with me. Regardless, I’ll play this game for whichever power aims to preserve magic.” He had other theories, but as Twig had stated, now was the time for careful consideration and perhaps introspection.

“We all must be exhausted,” Leo concluded, wiping the leftover tear droplets and rheum from around his own eyes. “Let’s take the night to process all we learned. By now, I know each city’s archives like the back of my hand, so I may be able to dig up something we need in the coming days.” With that, he began his slow drift back to Valencia. “Oh, and thanks for finally sharing. It’s good to truly know one another.”

“Yes, I’m glad it’s all out in the open,” Twig said as he began to take a different path towards Valencia.

Guin gazed at the two men’s retreating forms before facing the darkening sky. A small smile crept to her face as she closed her eyes. The twilight breeze felt cool against her skin yet there was a pleasant warmth spreading in her chest. A few moments later, the Queen vanished from the rubbles.

With all secrets finally shared, the three royal Jokers went their independent paths back to Valencia. Their strengthened solidarity and companionship would lead to a much brighter future, for themselves, the Jokers, and the nation they wished to create.

 

[Coyote Hart]

​

ft. Guineverre Victoria y Blanca as the "True Queen," Cassius Bellarmont, Declan Sarmiento, and Zephyr "Twig" Terwilliger as the "White Plague"

. D O V E Athanas AI10100 Coyote Hart

Part II: Justice by the Queen's Hand​

As always, Myles Rein’s CS can be found here. Cilantro’s CS can be found here.

“So yeah, refrigerators were our alternative to these shitty cans of condensed soup,” Myles explained, “Problem is that the fridges have probably killed more people than people have died from food poisoning here. The damn things can’t be opened from inside, so if you’re running from Cap’n Crunch and think ‘hey, cereal never go in the fridge!’ and climb into the fridge to escape, well, y’d’be screwed.”

“Mmhm,” Cilantro replied as he continued to spoon soup into his mouth. It wasn’t that he was half-listening, more of that he didn’t have the energy to keep up with Myles’s garrulous chatting. But Cilantro didn’t mind it. Myles helped keep boredom at bay. His incessant talking also helped Cilantro avoid looking to the future and wondering when he’d die. And the canned soup was interesting. Although, Cilantro didn’t understand why Myles would waste his time on someone as worthless as him. Cilantro hungrily scooped another spoonful from the lukewarm can into his mouth.

“Oh come on,” Myles whined, “You completely missed my joke! But then again… I don’t think you know what Cap’n Crunch is.”

It had been a week since Cilantro had arrived back at the Jokers base. After Myles explained the situation to whoever the hell was in the higher up, Cilantro had been promptly thrown into a cell that was much worse than the room that he had received when he was held captive at the Spades castle. But Cilantro knew that it was going to end soon. He knew that as things were winding down, the True Queen and the White Plague would have an opportunity to sneak off to put him on trial.

An intrusive thought would enter Myles' head, clearly, the resident telepath's doing. "Myles, the kid's being called over for interrogation." Declan alerted the man before he and Cass even descended the staircase leading down to their quaint little prison area.

The mission to obtain the spear went as well as expected - which meant something had gone wrong along the way. Jake had perished so that they could escape, but one person had been left behind alive. Cilantro. It was the kid's first big mission so Declan sympathized with him. But being captured was something that could end very badly for the Jokers, so here the boy was now, heading straight to his possible doom.

He motioned for Cass to take the lead so he'd be the first person in sight. The only sound that was coming from Declan was the occasional jingle of keys as he fiddled with them. He immediately headed straight for the lock of the cell, inserting the key but not turning it yet.

"Ready for your interrogation?" he asked. This time his thought could be heard by everyone in the vicinity. He glanced at Cass for his signal to open the cell.

Cass’s mood was absolutely foul. Their mission, while successful, had left him deeply troubled. He was forced to kill many guards. People who had done no real wrong, who were just minding their own business. Many didn’t even see him coming, he cut their throats like a bandit.

Once again he brought his queen to his thoughts, and the image quelled him, slightly. He regretted having to perform such actions, but they were necessary. She had asked him to, and he knew there was no other way. She would never seek the death of innocents for no purpose.

Still, Jake was dead. He was a bit annoying, betimes, and all too happy to merrily ignore his advice, but he liked the lad all the same. The boy, Cilantro, was taken prisoner and probably subjected to intense torture. He was well aware the child knew his name, but that seemed secondary by comparison to what he had gone through.

Slowly, he opened the cell door, smiling at Cilantro. “Follow us, please. You will be asked but a few questions, so there is no need to worry.” He was lying. He knew he was lying, but he couldn’t bring himself to bear full honesty on the boy.

"Goodbye, Gnocchi!" Myles said dramatically, as if he were a maiden about to fall over in shock, "I'll help with your grave if this is your end!"

Cilantro wished he had the time to correct Myles on his name.

They walked the short distance together, with Declan taking point and him following from behind- typical prisoner escorting procedures. He tried to lighten the mood a little. “Tell you what. We all get out of this without much trouble, and I'll let you have your pickings of the pastries we have back at the castle. You’ve never tasted something quite like them, I assure you. Ain’t that right, Declan?” He chuckled very slightly, although his mood prevented much heart from going into it.

Even though Cilantro knew that he would probably not make it out of the interrogation, he really wanted to believe Cass’s words. Not only that, but he also had never tasted Heart country pastries. The only experience he had was with some Club pastries, and only once, when the traveling circus visited Ariandel, Diamond kingdom pastries. For Myles and for the pastries, Cilantro decided, he wouldn’t throw his life away.

Eventually, they reached the interrogation room. Within, his queen, in her menacing disguise, and the Jack, in his equally intimidating one, were seated across a large table. Cass did his best to remind himself that these were nice people and had nothing but the best intentions. He motioned for Cilantro to sit in a chair across from them. “Just be honest and all will be well.”

Cilantro didn’t want to sit down. He was so scared he could shit himself, if not for the fact he was scared shitless, and he found it repulsive to listen to sit across from royalty. But he had told himself that he wouldn’t easily throw away his life, so he sat down in the chair without a word.

Across from the boy, the black-clad figure known as the True Queen stared at him from beneath her dark, golden-trimmed mask. It was hard to tell what was going on inside her head, but there was a palpable tension surrounding her; it was almost as if her very presence was trying to strangle him.

“Let’s cut to the chase.” She said, voice filtered by her mask, adding a synthetic edge to each word. Oddly enough, there was anger present in her voice despite the minacious aura she seemed to be emitting. “Tell us what happened from the moment you entered the Spade palace until your escape.”

Cilantro forced himself to swallow. His mouth had gone dry with nervousness. He knew this moment was going to happen, so he had reviewed what happened during his time in the cell.

“I well… when we first entered the castle, I was told that there was a telepath. After we killed them, we went into the treasury room area where the spear was kept,” Cilantro left out the part where he had a mental breakdown regarding milk when trying to find out the location of the telepath, “But the Kingsguard was much stronger than we could have imagined. At one point, Skull was in danger, and I tried my best to take the hit for him.”

Cilantro rubbed his chest. He could still feel the gigantic scar from the halberd underneath his tunic. “But I heard that it was in vain… I can’t even do something as simple as sacrificing my life right.”

“I thought I was going to die there in the treasury, so I told the others to not bring me along. I was a lost cause anyway,” Cilantro continued, “I lost consciousness… and then when I woke up, I was in a locked room. They left me alone, except for when they asked me questions.”

The True Queen shifted, her mask now directly pointing towards the boy’s escorts, Cassius and Declan. A few moments stood still before she returned her gaze on the teenager.

“They tricked me into answering, I swear!” Cilantro said in a panic, “When I realized what they did, I wanted to die!”

“But then… that weirdo Myles came and rescued me,” Cilantro finished with a plea: “Please, believe me! I didn’t mean to tell them! Please!”

Desperation was no stranger to the Queen’s ears. As the harbinger of justice, she had listened to plenty of pleas before, most of which required her to keep a leveled composure. This time, however, it was slowly growing hard to the same.

“Enough.” She uttered, low and slow with sternness, for she had no need for his pleas. “Tell me exactly how they tricked you and what information you yielded.”

“Cookies!” Cilantro shouted in desperation, “They also told me that they were going to help us out and that they needed information from me if they were going to do so. I told them that our base is somewhere near Woodheart Village… because I don’t actually know where it is. I also said that we worked under the One True Queen… and I told them Cass, Dec, Samael, and Frey’s names.”

“I’m so so so stupid!” Cilantro slammed his head into the table. It hurt immensely, but he knew that it would be nothing compared to the pain of his death.

“Stop that,” Twig said in concern as he stood up from his position. With a wave of a hand, the bruise that was about to form on Cilantro’s forehead vanished, “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

The White Plague had decided that he would keep silent. Guin seemed to have the situation in control, and he decided it would be wise to allow Guin to operate the interrogation her way. Of course, he found it concerning that Cilantro gave away the names of many of the high-ranking members of the Jokers, as well as their approximate location.

“Declan, can you please relay a message to the guards above?” Twig asked the telepath, “Tell them to keep an eye out for any suspicious soldiers snooping around Woodheart Village.”

Declan stepped forward to keep Cilantro from hitting himself with the table again but Twig seemed to have it under control. He nodded at Twig's order and relayed his message. "I'll ask them to increase patrol too if you want?"

“No, that’ll only increase the chances that they get followed back down here,” Twig said. Besides, he knew that there likely wouldn’t be any sneaking around that would require more patrols. Sneaking around and trying to find a secret bunker didn’t seem like they’d match up well.

"Of course, sir." Declan relayed the extra info to the guards in the vicinity before stepping back again for the interrogation to continue, though he seemed ready to intervene any time.

A few moments of silence plagued the room afterward, almost as if it was heralding an impending doom as an awfully familiar magic made itself known to each occupant. “...Cookies?” From her seat, the Queen laughed; the sound was neither shrill nor guttural but there was something sinister about it. The wooden table where her hands were pressed slowly decayed, cracks forming on its surface while its ends began chipping away. “...So, thousands of lives are endangered because of cookies…?” The decay continued spreading to a bigger radius; the plants decorating the quaint room withering as though all of its vigor had been sapped in an instant.

“COOKIES!?” Like a bomb hitting the end of its fuse, the Queen slammed her fists onto the rotten table before completely disappearing from her seat. She materialized right beside Cilantro, magically constructed tendrils sprouting from her back and shooting for the boy at a tremendous speed. The appendages wrapped themselves around his limbs and torso, lifting him from his seat and onto the air as he was forced to look at the masked Queen herself.

“You fool! Do you realize what you’ve done!?”

When he felt his body rise up from the chair, Cilantro felt his terror spike. Then, weirdly enough, the terror was replaced with a feeling of resignation, as well as a strange, constricting, and tingling feeling. While Cilantro didn’t understand his second emotion as much, he knew the first. He tried. But once again, he failed. It was time to finally say goodbye to the world.

“I know, it was so stupid,” Cilantro whimpered, “If my life is enough to make up for my mistake… go ahead. Kill me.”

Cilantro closed his eyes, getting ready for the end of everything.

“Queen, please don’t do anything rash,” Twig suddenly said as he drew his sword. He was willing to go and restrain the Queen, by force if need be. While he was upset that Cilantro had revealed such secrets by being essentially bribed with chocolate chip cookies, he knew that Guin was more than upset-- she was downright blind with rage.

"Or- or, you can put him down and we can think this through." Declan suddenly piped up from the side, looking between Cilantro and Guin. He slowly approached but every instinct in him told him to bolt. Unlike Twig and Cass, he wasn't exactly equipped with the magical resistance to survive Guin's outburst. He was banking on the fact that she'd calm down before she killed him too. "It is true that Cilantro made a big mistake. However, the base can easily be relocated. We have tons of bases across the four kingdoms, bases we've inhabited before settling here and all are still operational and safe."

"And if his interrogators tell the truth, then maybe there is some merit in contacting them? They didn't even hurt Cilantro so they might not be as dangerous to our cause as we think." He continued, slowly approaching the queen with caution. The next sentence was delivered to her and her only, his tone serious. "We'll train him better so nothing like this will ever happen again." He gave Cass a glance, asking for silent assistance to save the boy's hide, even if it seemed like he was resigned to his fate. They could still find a use for him after all.

Cass liked to think that he knew the Queen of Hearts rather well. He had spent an inordinate time around her, and she occupied a steady corner into his mind.
So when she rose, lifted Cilantro with some constructs, and began yelling, he was absolutely bloody sure she was not simply posturing for the sake of it.
Despite his better judgment, he stared for a few seconds, engrossed by the sight of his love. While she was normally very sweet, and caring, her inner fire was enough to boil an ocean. He found it...Positively captivating, even if a little intimidating. Was this what an explorer felt when traversing the more mystical corners of the world? The fear somehow making the beauty of the subject more...profound?

A heavy shove from Declan shook him out of his stupor, and he heard the telepath’s voice in his head. “Oi, Lover boy, get your head back in the game.’

Of course! Cilantro was going to die! He berated himself for being so easy to distract. Moving quickly, he stepped next to Guin, placing a hand on her shoulder. “My queen, I must dare ask that you show mercy. This lad is but a child, of little magical training and null combat experience. What more, he is an orphan, his parents gone due to the foulness of the system! Why I sincerely doubt it was truly cookies that caused him to reveal the information. Enchanters, charmers, and mind readers are aplenty. Mayhaps the cookies held some sort of alchemical concoction that loosened his tongue? Whatever the case, we cannot blame this child for being unable to resist expert interrogators! Besides, the loss is not nearly as great-There are a great many individuals in all kingdoms with these first names. It is too little information for them to go on. If anything, it might provoke hysteria, causing random arrests of innocent “Freys” and “Declans”, which will damage public opinion.”

Not sure at all if he had managed to convince her, he leaned closer to her, and whispered in her ear. “Please, trust me. Don’t kill this poor child. He just wanted to do what’s best. You’re not the kind of person who kills out of spite alone, I know it. You have shown this side to me-Now show a glimpse of it to them, too.”

How strange it was that Declan, Twig, and Cass were all trying to save him. Why? He was worthless; if he was going to sell the soul to the devil he wouldn’t even take it, that was how worthless he was. So what was it that the three Jokers saw in him worth keeping alive? Regardless of the intentions of the three Jokers, Cass had told him to be honest, so Cilantro rebuked one of Cass’s statements.

“I’m pretty certain it was just normal cookies,” Cilantro hissed out in a whisper, peeking an eye open.

Declan turned his head sharply to Cilantro and glared at him. At the same time, Cilantro would feel like he was hit on the back of his head. Not enough force to hurt, but definitely a warning. "You know, they say it's hard to tell if something is put in your food. I wouldn't put it past them to make it tasteless so he wouldn't be able to know!" He reaffirmed Cass's point as he slowly turned back to look at Guin.

Cass flinched as Cilantro made his comment. There was no visible movement, for his sleight of hand could rival the greatest trickster after all these hours of training, but Cilantro would feel one of his non-lethal cards making contact with his sides-it was thrown with minimal force, so it was little more than a slap. The card disappeared before anyone could really make it out. “You make a good point, friend. This must be the explanation.”

Cilantro twitched twice in rapid succession, and he definitely got the message. He winced, “Okay, perhaps there was some ketamine or something in it.”

To be honest, he had no idea what ketamine was. All he knew was that a few days ago, Myles in one of his stories, had mentioned that he “took ketamine at a party and was out of my mind for like five hours.” Therefore, ketamine was probably something that makes people loose-tongued, right? Right.

Whatever the answer was, at least the tendrils wrapped around his body loosened up, causing him to fall down the floor. The magical constructs retracted themselves back to the Queen, her shoulders bobbing with each ragged breath as she kept her eyes glued on the boy like she was drilling a hole through his skull.

There were so many things going inside her head. For starters, why would they bring an inept child during a crucial mission? Just the thought of such blunder was enough to make her blood boil; how could they fulfill their grandiose plans if the Jokers keep on making foolish errors like this? It was almost as if the fate of the world resided in the hands of clowns.

Nevertheless, Cass and Declan each had points that appealed to her rational side while Twig… He drew his sword against her. It wasn’t the first time he had done something of such accord. He did the same thing when she threatened Jake three years ago. It didn’t get rid of the tinge of hurt at the depths of her chest, though.

Her eyes strayed from Cilantro and onto the background, noticing the withered plants that used to be lush with life. Ah, she did it again. She shut her eyes tight behind her mask, her fists balling into fists while she tried to control her emotions. When she opened them again, she found herself staring at a child- scared and helpless. Just as Cass said, Cilantro was just a child, orphaned by the cruel system. Guin was just like him before; every day felt like she was begging for her life. She wondered if Declan saw a similar sight when he found her dying on the streets all those years ago.

“Stand up.” She told the boy, not offering a hand for she wanted him to push himself back on his feet just as she did. “You’re weak, foolish, and pathetic. You can’t even save anyone.” She continued, and even though he was right in front of her, it was almost as if she wasn’t speaking to him. In his stead was the twelve-year-old Guin, clawing on the ashes of her home as she sobbed helplessly. “But I will give you the chance to redeem yourself. I want you to rise- become strong, wise, and great that nobody will ever call you those hateful words again.” She took a step closer to him. “I want you to prove me wrong.”

Twig breathed a sigh of relief, and then he noticed his sword, unsheathed. Did he really just pull a sword on his best friend? The action disgusted Twig. Was the pacifistic young boy he had once been gone? Did he embrace his mask as the White Plague too much, and now the demon that floated on the surface of the persona was now inside him? Twig decided at that moment that he would shed the mask.

"Sorry about that, Queen," Twig said with regret as he sheathed his sword. "I don't know what got into me."

His hands shaking, Twig began to heal everything around him. The plants came back to life, the table returned to it's brighter former self.

Cilantro, on his part, stood up with confusion. She had chosen to not kill him… why? Her explanation didn’t make sense. How was it possible that a pitiful being like him would be capable of becoming strong? How could he learn what it meant to be courageous, or to find himself in the world of the nobility?

“H-how…?” Cilantro voiced his confusion, “I’ve hated that wicked bitch Mortemiah and the Ace of Asses Quillon ever since I was born, for failing to protect me. I wanted the power to kill them, to make them feel the same pain that I did… but where? Where do I get that power?”

“Obviously not from this,” Cilantro gestured, a weak flame appearing in his hand. It burned bright for a few seconds before it went out-- Cilantro had run out of mana. “Three years of fire magic training and this was all I got out of it.”

“Here.” The Queen reached a gloved hand out and tapped Cilantro’s forehead. “The one who succeeds is not the strong but the wise.” She retracted her hand, the flames of fury within her shifting into something else entirely.

“The Jokers are here to prove that neither our physical or magical prowess should define what we can and cannot do. Look at our technology- the fruit of our minds. Thanks to them, even a rank two would be able to eliminate a King, no?” After all, each and every one of them bled at the end of the day. A well-placed shot on the head would be all it takes.

“You are but a child, there is so much more waiting for you. Stop doubting yourself. You can rise.” There was strength in her voice. “I know because before I became this, I was just like you.”

Cilantro’s eyes widened. The Queen, a symbol of strength and power amongst the Jokers, had once been weak? Then again, Cilantro knew that many dysidia mages wielded their unique powers because they were too weak to stand against other mages.

Cilantro wondered what uniqueness he could bring to the table. Obviously, it couldn’t be some sort of magic. It probably couldn’t be some sort of technology either. Cilantro didn’t have a brilliant mind capable of making weapons. So it would have to be something else.

He probably couldn’t build off of his dart skills. He had spent over six years perfecting the craft, and it allowed him to perfectly throw his darts. But it could never in any world make him capable of facing a monster like the Kingsguard. Cilantro remembered jumping in front of the Kingsguard’s halberd in a desperate attempt to save Skull. There was no way that in that situation, Cilantro could use one of his darts and block the axe blade. Dart throwing simply didn’t include that level of expertise.

Or… perhaps it might be possible.

Cilantro remembered a story that Myles had passed on to him while Cilantro was sitting in the cell. It was a story about how a martial artist, with a minuscule amount of magic and strength was able to quickly take down the Ace of Hearts. Could that be the strength that Cilantro needed? To throw away the traditional system of physical prowess and magical prowess, and instead embrace the third path altogether? With that, he might be able to kill Mortemiah and Quillon, once and for all.

“I think I’ve got it,” Cilantro suddenly said. He looked up to meet the Queen and Twig’s eyes, “Do either of you know anyone I can learn martial arts from?”

Guin has always found it satisfying whenever she coaxes glimmers of determination from someone. “I do.” She answered, her hands joining behind her back. “I know a man, Commander Kaiden Alderidge. He led the air force during the war.” Her mind wandered to a conversation she had with him a few days ago. “I believe his style is called the Stream Breath.”

"Stream breath…" Cilantro said without actually knowing what it meant. It sounded cool though, like an unstoppable stream of water, flowing and breaking through no matter the barrier. Cilantro asked with hope, "Is there any chance you can introduce him to me?"

She stared at him for a moment, mind racing until an answer finally left her lips: “Yes.” She shifted to look at Twig. “I plan to introduce our cause to Commander Alderidge.”

Twig stopped his restoration of the room to think. He didn’t know Commander Alderidge too well. Between the two of them, Guin was the one with the most strategic expertise, so he left much of the war planning to her.

“If you believe that we can trust him,” Twig said, “Then I trust your judgment.”

She nodded her head, pleased to hear his agreement. “The commander has proven himself to be for the people and one with the people. I think you’ll be delighted to meet him.”

Once that was said, the Queen disappeared from her position and returned to her seat, almost as if her homicidal outburst never happened at all. Guin has always been proficient at switching her bearing; like a chameleon, she changes skin to fit the environment.

“Now where were we?” She muttered, taking a moment to recall before leaning forward on the table, chin resting on clutched hands. “If the leaked information has reached the ears of the Spades royalties, they might contact the Queen of Hearts and in extension, the Jack and the Ace.” A small sigh escaped her. “I think it’s time for us to have a chat with him*, White Plague.”

“Him?” Twig asked. He suddenly realized who the Queen was referring to, and quickly said unhappily, “Right, him.”

Twig knew who the Queen was talking about. He wasn’t too happy with having to talk with his old friend regarding a secret kept away from him for over three years.

“Umm… am I allowed to leave?” Cilantro suddenly cut in, looking between the White Plague and the One True Queen.

“I think we’ve kept you here long enough,” Twig decided, “What do you think, Queen?”

“Leave.” She told the boy. “But do not speak about any of these to anyone.” The news might cause hysteria inside the organization, and it wouldn’t do well for them to find out that a traitor got off the hook unscathed either. They might take treason too lightly. “And the next time I see you,” she paused, “I don’t want to see a pathetic, little boy.” Certainly, she will have Cassius and Declan keep a close eye on Cilantro. She won’t be as kind if he endangers their operation once more.

“Thank you, thank you, of course,” Cilantro said as he backed out of the room. Before he left, he whispered a grateful “thank you” to both Cass and Declan.

Outside the room, Myles was waiting with what looked like a soup can filled with coffee.

“Hey, you’re alive,” Myles said with surprise, “Or am I just seeing your ghost?”

Myles set down his can of coffee and walked up to Cilantro, poking him on the cheeks. Cilantro recoiled slightly.

“Nope, it’s you, in the flesh,” Myles said, “How was it? I heard the Queen shout something about cookies. I’ll tell you, it was one of the funniest shit I ever heard in my life.”

“Hell,” Cilantro responded, sitting down on the ledge with a sigh of relief. It was nice to finally be out of that intense interrogation.

“Well, I told them that I was tricked using cookies,” Cilantro said, “I’m also going to learn martial arts! Also… I think I enjoyed being choked by the Queen.”

Myles had taken a sip of coffee, and at that final note, he spat it out in surprise. For a good twenty seconds, he was a cackling mess as he laughed. It was a whole body, giggling, knee-slapping laugh. Finally, when he was able to speak, he said, “Oh my. Gnocchi likes MILFs.”

“Mi--what?” Cilantro asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Myles chuckled as he calmed down.

“Also, my name’s not Gnocchi,” Cilantro said, “People call me Cilantro.”

“Whaa?” Myles blinked in rapid succession, “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? If you had kicked the bucket, I would’ve been crying about pasta.”

“Well, I’m not dead,” Cilantro said. It was such a weird feeling. He had been able to escape death twice-- once in the Spades castle when he had made up his mind to kill himself, and the second time during the interrogation when Cilantro was sure the Queen was going to crush him.

“Hallelujah to that,” Myles said, “Want to get some coffee?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Cilantro replied.

“In that case, I’ll have to teach you how to love coffee. I was the best barista in all of Argossia, y’know!” Myles puffed out his chest proudly. “Coffee goes well with pastries. Do you want to get some?”

Cilantro thought back to what Cass had said before, about how he could pick any pastry he’d like from the Heart castle. After dodging death, Cilantro thought that he mind as well pick up on Cass’s offer.

“Yeah, you know what, why not?” Cilantro said. He deserved to relax after all those harrowing experiences. Besides, he wasn’t going to die anytime soon.




((* - Alright, sorry, I screwed up the order of things. The "him" refers to Leolin; this scene takes place before A Long Fated Meeting))

 

[LazyDaze]

A STRANGER I REMEMBER
(Guin + Xixix ft. Twig)
( Coyote Hart , . D O V E )
wew, don't @me, new phone who dis, dm slide is illegal, enjoy​

As they all say, the greatest of secrets are usually hidden in the most unlikely of places; formed by the most unlikely of people.
The harsh sound of a metallic door creaking open permeated the cold air as three men entered a rather dimly lit hallway. Two of them were covered from head to toe, masks concealing their faces as if the mere hints of skin would burn them alive. Their footsteps were heavy as they escorted the third one, their gloved hands clutching onto each of his shoulders in a manner that suggested scorn and distrust.

“This is such a drag. Do we really have to keep him blindfolded?” One of the cloaked men said.

“Quit whining.” The other one grumbled with a deeper voice. “This is an order from the White Plague and the True Queen themselves.”

The whiny one sighed. “I know, I know. It’s just that we’re already inside the base and shit. This guy can walk by himself!”

“He’s a King.”

“Kings have legs too!”

“That’s not it, you dipshit.” He growled, sounding like he was one step away from slamming the other person’s head. “He’s a royalty. We’re Jokers. Jokers don’t trust royalties.” He huffed before turning to the blindfolded man.

“You heard that, King of Clubs? You better not try anything funny. Lest you end up in a pile of ditch.” The smirk on his face can easily be heard.
It wasn’t long before they came to a stop and opened another door, leading King Valentines inside and into one of the four waiting chairs before their tight grips left his arms.
It was a small, cozy room occupied mainly by a single large, circular table with four chairs. The lighting from the spaced out oil lamps was intimidatingly dim. The White Plague, clad in a large white trenchcoat, sat in one chair, the fingers of his hands interlaced; his eyes, visible beneath Jake's golden-black skull mask, were red from crying. Beside him sat a feminine figure, clad in a black hooded outfit that glaringly contrasted with his white one. However, just like him, an intricate golden mask concealed her facial features. The Jokers know her as the True Queen.

"Thank you, you two," the White Plague said to the two Jokers, "You can take off his blindfold now. And next time please don't threaten the guests."

The two Jokers complied, taking off X's blindfold before heading out of the room, the heavy wooden door shutting with a boom behind them.

"Would you like some tea, King X?" the White Plague asked kindly.

X heard the question clearly, but decided to stretch as if he was carried in a crate for three days. He turned toward the metallic door, burning a hole through it with his gaze as if he could see the two henchmen who handled him with so much care. He then returned to the natural position, rubbing his eyes and blinking a few times to make sure what he was seeing was real. X sighed before speaking, scratching the back of his head while leaning back comfortably in his chair.
“I would like a lot of things to be honest,” X said with a neutral expression. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, pondering if the tea was poisoned. It would seem nonsensical to drag him all this way just to kill him in such a manner, but one could never be too careful. “Hmm, I suppose death is the pinnacle of all vacations. I’ll take some tea.” X scratched his chin once again before pointing towards the White Plague in dramatic fashion. “But hold the sugar.” So this was it, a meeting with the infamous jokers. Admittedly, he had low hopes for this chance when he sent Shark to weasel his way into the organization and request that they meet up with the King of Clubs. He had not doubt that someone of his background could get in. He was simply unsure if they would be willing to meet a royal who simply wanted to pick their brain. Nothing more, nothing less...yet.

"The tea won't give you that bad of explosive diarrhea," the White Plague said, not understanding that X was referring to poison. He reached across the table where a petite tea set was placed and poured himself and X a cup of tea. He set X's cup of tea down in front of him along with a cup of sugar for him to adjust to taste. The White Plague raised his own cup of tea to his lips, but then stopped as he realized that he couldn't drink tea through his mask.

"So," he said as he awkwardly set down his teacup, "What brings you here today?"

X smoothly took hold of the teacup, taking in its fragrance as he swirled it around gently. “I was kidnapped and violently dragged to this location.” X swirled his tea once more before resting his gaze on the White Plague, attempting to formulate any theories pertaining to his identity. “In a more non-literal sense, I felt the urgent need to contact our local terrorists. You do a lot for us you know.” X returned his attention to the tea, shifting his gaze between the hesitant Joker leader, and the potential thirst-quenching tea. Unlike the White Plague, who reasonably allowed the mask to win the battle of wills with the tea, X held the teacup to his mask and drank the tea through its permeable barricade, for he was unreasonable. “I’ve come to a conclusion. You are murderers.”

"I do my best to not kill," the White Plague said as he stared at the soaked dark stain of tea on X's mask with something akin to horror.

Meanwhile, the more silent occupant of the room remained unmoving. She sat still like a statue, her hidden eyes boring to the man across from her, watching as droplets of tea slipped from his wet mask and to the ground. Just by looking at her, it would be impossible to discern what she was thinking. But if one was to use psychic magic and read her mind, they would find out that there was only one thought running in her head.

‘...It’s the pigeon-brained, boneless oaf.’

With that, the dark figure leaned closer to her white counterpart. “See?” She whispered, making sure that the other party won’t hear her. “I told you he’s insufferable.”

"I regret not taking your warning at full face," the Joker leader said resignedly to the True Queen, "I kind of wish the tea would actually cause diarrhea so we can get him out of here."

X set his tea down and leaned back once again. He had to admit, this wasn’t the image he had of the jokers. He thought they would be a bit more...twisted. Aside from the strange costumes. X let out a low chuckle as he snapped his fingers. “A good answer, most people would be satisfied. I’m not one of them.” X paused, as he often did to allow his hosts to follow his train of thought, if it were even possible. “You see, we’re all murderers...at least that’s who you’re dealing with. Doing your best not to kill is just an excuse to avoid such a label. You don’t have to impress me,” X said with another chuckle. “Murder is not the issue, nor is it as simple as driving a knife through someone’s heart. Murder takes many forms, and we are often unaware of the blood on our hands. I’ll rephrase, the Jokers are murderers… I want to hear it from the True Queen’s mouth since obviously that black thing is the White Plague. Why the bloodshed?”

The White Plague looked with confusion at the dark figure next to him, hoping that she would have some sort of suitable response to this shit.
The black thing, who was most definitely not the white plague, let out a deep sigh of frustration. She didn’t even try to hide it. However, she quickly brushed her homicidal thoughts off and addressed the King’s question.

“Because not everyone listens.” She responded as she leaned forward, an air of seriousness enveloping her.

“True,” X stated as his focus shifted to the mass of goth in front of him. “...But it is also true that everyone isn’t guilty of not listening.” X took another sip of his tea, taking notice of the shift in the air.

“Hence why we reach out and open our doors to those who listen. Such as yourself, King of Clubs.” She tilted her head to the side. “Or are we wrong?”

X raised an eyebrow before looking up to the ceiling in a thoughtful manner before speaking. “A bit presumptuous...but not wrong. Yet, not all who listen understand. I believe we all want the same thing, but there are often many roads to a single destination. If they’re too different, it is inevitable that there will be a clash of ideologies. I had to confirm this myself...I believe we can help each other.”

"By that, do you mean to join our ranks?" the White Plague asked.

“...I’m only joining for the tea,” X deadpanned although he was only joking.

"Want another cup?" the White Plague raised the teapot in an offer. Unfortunately, the glue between the handle of the pot and the pot itself untimely snapped, and the pot crashed onto the ground to shatter into a thousand pieces. The Joker leader winced, "Oh no. That was expensive."

Another sigh of frustration followed. “We’ll buy another one.” The female grumbled, moving her feet so that she wouldn't be stepping on any shards. With a wave of his hand, the White Plague collected all the pot shards into one neat pile.

"I'm going to warn you, King Valentine," the White Plague said, "Not everything will be fun and tea. We're fighting for the dissolution of rank inequality through the unification of all four Suits. The social and political power that you and me hold in society will be lessened if our plan succeeds. But it will also mean that the common people will have the opportunity to rise to higher positions regardless of their rank. Do you still think you want to join us?"

“I was drunk when I became a royal,” X started randomly in response to Joker leader’s words. “Apparently I almost killed a guy in the royal contest. Before that, I was orphaned, a very disagreeable child, and wholly unfit when I stumbled into rank 10 after beating up some robbers.” Xixix took out a deck of cards and began shuffling them as he spoke. He couldn’t help but lament on the fact that the pair had the personality of a chalkboard. “They have allowed one of the least qualified people in the entire continent of Ornare to sit on a throne. A person who solely wants to sleep, eat, and have wild sex on occasion. Ultimately, running an army sucks, expectations suck, and people who smile falsely because they believe you’re someone you’re not...sucks.” X cut the deck with one hand while observing his teacup for any cheap, glued on appendages. “Why do I remain King, you ask? No other King will be lazy enough to incite terrorists to remove him from the throne...you’re going to need another tea set.” X dropped his teacup, letting it shatter on the floor. He was really doing them a favor. As soon as one part of the set was destroyed, it was ruined in its entirety so you might as well destroy the entire set. Nevertheless, X was quiet for a moment. Although he did not particularly care for the ranking system, there was beauty in a story such as his. An orphan boy, rising to the rank of King. Whatever system they put in place was bound to have some form of prejudice. It was just a matter of determining what prejudice they could live with. If the existence of organizations like the Jokers was any indicator, the prejudice of numbers was exasperating. “I’ll join you. I’m sure it will be a blast,” X said rather apathetically, making the latter portion of his statement fall as flat as possible.

The True Queen cringed beneath her mask, finding the King’s behavior deeply annoying. At least he was honest, she supposed, and she could sympathize with his story. They were both orphans; children plunged neck-deep into this cruel world by what most would call fate. She huffed at the thought. What plunged her neck-deep into that awful situation wasn’t fate. It was a monster of a man; powerful and greedy, like most inhabitants of these lands they were trying to cleanse and change.

“How interesting.” She began. “For someone who’s admittedly very… slack, you have exerted effort in hunting us down. And what’s more, you’re volunteering to join the family and help us realize our cause.” The queen was well aware of his works. Months back during the war, her comrade sitting beside her and she met the king’s assistant, Iris Bastille. She was of low rank, probably no more than five, yet this loaf in front had granted her such a high position in the palace. It was an act that most nobles would frown at thanks to the unjust, caste system that was constantly being shoved down their throats. Regardless, she has also interacted with the king before and as far as she could remember, he was someone who’d rather plop on the ground and pretend he’s a carpet than do something productive such as overthrowing a corrupted system.

“So tell me, King, what’s our assurance that this isn’t all some part of a trick? A scheme that you and your fellow royalties cooked up to catch us off guard?” Sure, he was discussing with them properly- if you could even call it that, at least- but who’s to say that he won’t stab their backs after he has been given the opportunity? She knew he understood and supported their cause, but she needed to know his personal drive. His motivation.

“...Aside from being the last person they would send on this kind of thing,” X said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He glanced at his deck of cards; he had managed to shuffle the back into their original order. “...I suppose my words are just words after all.” X placed the cards in his jacket pocket, and then took that very hand and pulled out another mask. “Sorry for the striptease,” X said as he placed the new one over his tea-stained mask. He then slipped off that very mask from underneath the new one and then placed it in the same pocket with the cards. “I vaguely remember putting my life in your hands on this very pleasant trip. I’m confident in my abilities, but it would be a hassle to fight off multiple enemies blindfolded. I ask that you return the favor. Besides, any organization that can be overthrown this easily was never destined to change the world.” X knew this answer would probably not be sufficient, and he did have an idea that could be particularly useful to the Jokers.

The White Plague pondered the King of Club’s words. He was right. Even if X were to betray them, the momentum of the Jokers was still nigh unstoppable. They could keep switching bases and develop their technologies until they were ready to strike back. However, even despite this, the Plague knew that X could simply be trying to use psychological tricks on them.
“I’m willing to trust you for now, although I don’t know if the other Jokers would share my sentiment,” the White Plague said, “But we have a series of actions we have, which will likely solidify the Joker’s trust in you. ”

The White Plague reached into his white trenchcoat and took out a piece of parchment. He placed it in front of X, and quickly outlined what needed to be done.
“In order to make our plans go more smoothly, we’re going to need troops. As the military leader of the Clubs, I want you to gather up troops as well as convince them of the Joker’s cause. Additionally, I want to see if you can get the rest of the Clubs to agree to a merger of territories with the Hearts, or at least a cooperation with the Jokers. Thirdly, please lower the security attached to some caravans to allow us to loot them. I assure you nobody will be hurt in the process. I know this is a difficult task, and I don’t expect you to fully complete it, since it’d put your life at severe risk.”
He took a pause to take a moment to stir in a sugar cube into his tea, which was starting to cool.

“However, know that if you decide to reveal to the royalty our plans, or if you start to act strangely, or if you don’t comply in some way with our requests, we have spies planted in all the castles around Ornare. If you decide to betray us, we have the technology capable of taking you out. But I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to resort to that outcome.”
The White Plague stopped stirring his tea, and tapped the rim of the cup with his teaspoon, two sharp rings reverberating menacingly in the room.
“Does that work for you, Xixix Valentine?”

“I wonder if that one crazy chick is a spy,” X asked himself while looking over the plans. “...I can make this happen...more or less. It shouldn't be any more damaging than what you've already achieved."

X then looked up toward the White Plague, giving nothing away with his expression. “...Heart Royals have sided with the Jokers?” It was a wonder how X kept up with his own thoughts at this point. He took note of the masked tea keeper’s choice of words. He was asked to convince Clubs to merge with the Hearts although that is something that would take the agreement between royals of both nations. However, he wasn’t asked to speak to the Hearts regarding this manner, implying the other side was taken care of, or at least in the works.

Shoot. The White Plague cringed as he realized that he really wasn’t cut out to lead the Jokers. At least, not yet. He needed to learn to mind his words more carefully. He had never taken any classes on speeches in his years at the medicine academy. It also could have been due to his grief, which lingered at the edge of his mind no matter what he did. His mind raced for some sort of excuse.
“The Kingdom of Clubs pressuring the Hearts with a merger might make it easier for them to comply,” he said with as much coldness as he could muster in his voice, “Now, does this arrangement work for you?”

X stared blankly at the TeaKeeper, that’s the name he was giving him, for a few long seconds before responding. “And how would this benefit you as opposed to a merger with the other nations,” X stated, continuing to press the Joker leader.

“It would ummm…” the White Plague picked up his teacup to buy himself some time before he realized once again that he couldn’t drink through his mask. He put down the cup and said, “The Spades kingdom is currently undergoing some political unrest after the Deep Piercer was stolen... And we would rather not burden the Clubs with part of the responsibility of rebuilding the destroyed Diamond kingdom.

Um...he really said um. X was impressed by the recovery nonetheless. Every word he stated was factual. The Spades were in a compromising position, and the Diamond Kingdom was more like the coal kingdom. He had even more questions lined up for the TeaKeeper; however, he wondered how counterintuitive it would be to push him in a corner. After all, they did have the home field advantage currently. “...So given these circumstances, it would be safe to say a majority of your forces reside in the Heart Kingdom yes,” X eventually asked after a break in the conversation. “Must be pretty tough to operate with them on high alert. A major battle did just take place within their borders.” X crossed one leg over the other then clasped his hands together, awaiting the next response.

After his screw-up, the Joker leader was at high alert, and completely ready to answer X’s next question. The White Plague leaned forward and said to X, “No, logically it’s safe to assume that we operate primarily in your kingdom.”

The Teakeeper knew that this cycle of questioning would keep continuing until he slipped up, so he had to nip it in the bud.
“Do you have any more questions?” the Teakeeper asked. He drew Tous in knife form and pointed it at X, “Cause if you do, I’m going to give you a vasectomy. Then your ‘wild-sex’ will be completely ruined.”

The Teakeeper knew that what he was saying wasn’t true. A vasectomy didn’t lower the quality of sex. Not that either him nor Jake had one. He felt kind of nervous threatening the King of Clubs, but the man really needed to shut his mouth.

Annnnd there it was. X had actually expected them to snap sooner...everyone else always did. Moreover, it wasn’t as if they came seeking him out for support. It was he who asked to join their cause. He had other questions, but none were of real consequence and they had been hospitable enough. However, he was getting a clearer picture of the Jokers. “I have many questions actually. I’ll let them die for now," X said with a light chuckle as he motioned for Mr. TeaKeeper to calm down. “I understand I’m giving you a hard time, but I have to make sure I’m not lending support to some shoddy organization incapable of putting this ol’ slob in his place. No hard feelings and all that. I suspect from here on out, it is up to me to earn your trust, yes? Anything else our great nation can lend you?”

Truth to be told, the True Queen felt like her brain cells were dying one by one as the two men went on with their discussion. As if the King of Clubs wasn’t already causing a headache, her partner sitting next to her went ahead blabbering things that he really shouldn’t be saying out loud. Her left brow twitched utter vexation as her hands fidgeted underneath the table. She was really doing her best to not activate her drain and suck the living shit out of these two blockheads. There were plenty of circuses in the kingdom that she could go to if she wanted to watch two clowns performing a stand-up comedy. A big part of her wondered why she was even here just to suffer.

“Yes. Please prove to us that you are worth our trust.” She said, not even bothering to hide the tiredness in her altered voice. “Are we done here?” Her hands slipped into her pocket, searching for a certain mirror.

“Yes, but I think we can do one last thing,” the White Plague said. He was feeling really giddy as the idea of revealing the man underneath the mask didn’t strike him as an option until now. He leaned across the table towards the One True Queen and said, “Would it be too risky if we were to reveal our true faces to King Valentine here? He needs to know that he can trust us as well, and that he isn’t going to be thrown away someday like a piece of scrap paper.”

“No.” She responded with another twitch of her brow.

“You know we can’t hide our identities from him forever,” the White Plague said, “Also, if he decides to try to betray us, it’d be much easier for us to know. It’ll be pretty difficult to mention us in a secret code.”

“No.” She stood her ground. “We both know that man rarely thinks.”

“Well, if he decides to do something stupid, we can just,” the White Plague stabbed Tous into the sugar bowl, causing the bowl to break into several pieces and for the sugar to spill out everywhere. He was not in the right state of mind. He was probably drunk. He also didn’t know if he could actually carry out what he metaphorized with the bowl of sugar.

“Twig, what is wrong with you?” She finally snapped, balling her hands into fists before her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “...You know what? Fine. Knock yourself out.” That was it. The last of her brain cells were officially gone.

“I’m sorry, I had some whiskey before this,” the White Plague said in an ashamed tone, “I thought it would take away my grief… obviously not. I’m never drinking again.”
With that, the Joker leader reached up to his face and removed Jake’s mask from his face, setting it down on the table before finally taking a sip of his tea. It had already gone cold, but that didn’t matter, because he knew that he couldn’t drink tea. Alcohol and tea didn’t mix well.

“It’s good to work with you, X,” Twig said with his signature gentle smile.

X sat passionless throughout their exchanges. It was always strange to see someone else getting admonished for once. Despite his natural apathy, he couldn’t help but be a bit interested in their identities. Here he thought he would have to deliver the head of a noble to get this far, apparently not. X raised an eyebrow when the Joker leader mentioned something about being drunk, X knew those consequences too well, and then began to lift up his mask. (...Wow, they’re actually doing it.) The hardened leader was revealed to be...Twig...ohhhh that Twig. X’s eyes went from droopy to wide eyed, one eyebrow raised. It was about as much of an emotional response as you could muster. “Zephyr Terwilliger, so you’re the One True Queen. Never would have guessed it.”
Intelligence on the Jokers was severely lacking. It was out of the realm of possibility for them to have procured such an influential person amongst their ranks. X simply nodded, glancing at the other masked figure briefly before returning his gaze back to Twig. “...Glad I joined when I did,” X said with a relaxed laugh.
The True Queen sighed. Obviously, the king was far from being the brightest wax in the box. No sane person would ever entrust him with a highly important mission such as infiltrating the Jokers. Or maybe that was what made him the most ideal person for this. Either way, the ship has already sailed as Twig sat bare faced in front of the oaf. She might as well get this over with.
She slowly reached out for her mask and removed it, revealing the familiar features underneath. Sanguine eyes bore themselves to the king’s silver ones. “I told you before,” Guin said, “I am ready to do whatever it takes to save my people.”

“You…,” X asserted seriously. His features noticeably less relaxed than normal. Seeing the Heart’s Queen in this setting was still surreal; however, that was not the only reason for X’s growing tension. Despite the context of this reveal implicating their partnership, the fact of the matter remained that this operation was bigger than X could have anticipated. X might have his quirks, but he is rarely astonished. His mind raced back to the threat of planted spies, and how those bluffs might have actually been closer to the truth than he would have liked to admit. X recovered quickly, taking in the sight of their faces as if they were unveiled art. “The Jokers, they’re actually serious about this,” X said, stating the fact more than asking. X decided to clear the air one more time before officially recognizing the partnership under the new context. “If anything, this makes things a lot more interesting, but let me make one thing clear. At the end of the day I’m still the King of Clubs, I won’t be licking your boots,” X said as he locked eyes with Guin, his expression having reverted to his usual blank stare.

“We are serious about this, King X, and we ask you to do the same.” Guin responded, the flames of conviction raging behind red eyes. “We don’t ask you to lick our boots; we ask you to cooperate with us, to help us achieve our goals, to change this flawed system that has long paved the way for oppression, and to become the voice of the common people. Let’s welcome a new dawn,” she paused to reach an open hand out to the king, “Together.”

X sighed after listening to Guin. He was a bit frustrated with himself for uttering something so fruitless, it wasn’t like him at all. It wasn’t fear he felt moments earlier, but perhaps...helplessness. Perhaps it was his inability to discern any of...well this, that had him on edge no matter how brief. His eyes softened as he thought about her final words. It reminded him of the end of their last meeting. X hesitated to take her hand, thinking of the future to come, and the sacrifices to be made. There would be no turning back after this. He stood up with one hand and his pocket, and took her hand with his other one. “Sure thing,” X said casually. Anything other than that just wouldn’t have sounded right coming from him.

"I'm glad that this worked out," Twig said in a relieved tone, "Also, know this, X. We don't see you as a subordinate. You're a comrade through and through."

“Well then, X.” Guin began, a smile gracing her lips. “We look forward to working with you.” She shook his hand once before giving it a firm squeeze. “And by the way, if you still haven’t figured it out yet, Twig’s the White Plague and I’m the True Queen.” Her hands then left his- along with a small taste of his mana.
X raised an eyebrow shifting his gaze between Twig and Guin as if to discern the difference. “...You know that actually makes more sense,” X said while stroking an imaginary beard. To think, he would be astounded twice in one setting. Before he could elaborate further, his eyes shot right toward his hand just as Guin’s left his. He then looked up toward the White Pl-, er True Queen, a knowing look in his eyes as he flexed his hand a few times to make sure it was still functional. “...I’ve confirmed it. She’s totally into me.”

Hey, if anybody is surprised by the outcome of this, look no further than this:

​

 

[. D O V E]

The Necromancer Queens
Birds of a feather, raises a flock together. Coyote Hart ​

A lone deathless wandered through the streets of Corda. All around them were the signs of reconstruction on the destroyed Heart capital. Builders were working on the destroyed rubble of the buildings, a small market was present with temporary stands, and standing alone was a small building. This building proudly stated “Soup Kitchen - Free Soup.” It was rumored that this soup kitchen was run by the Jokers, the very group of people Amelia Chevrolet wanted to talk to.

With a small whisper, Mia commanded the deathless to walk up to the soup kitchen counter.

“Hello, I’d like to speak with your manager,” Mia said, “And it’s not a complaint.”

The Joker manning the counter gave Mia, and the deathless, a skeptical look, “We have no manager. Go away, unless you want a bowl of soup. Then our special today is tomato and basil.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Mia said venomously, “It’s urgent, so get your fucking manager over here. And do you think a sword can drink soup?”

The Joker gave Mia an uncomfortable look, but he wordlessly went into the back of the kitchen, and Mia heard him shout, “Oi, Queen! White Plague! This weird sword wants to talk to you!”

“They can’t hear me, can they?” the Joker realized. Mia couldn’t see, but the Joker walked through one of Samael’s mirror portals to go fetch either Guin or Twig, whichever was available.

The person available turned out to be the True Queen. The usually covert individual emerged from the kitchen, still donned in her black hooded robe and equally dark mask. She made her way towards the counter and regarded the other party with an apprehensive look, unsure whether she should keep her eyes on the strange man or his sword.

The goon told her it was the sword who sought her presence. It was indeed weird.

“...How may I assist you?” Guin asked, brow furrowing beneath her cover. She could sense a staggering amount of dysidia radiating off the seemingly anomalous duo.

“Are you the Jokers?” Mia asked bluntly, “Wow, your outfits are… edgy. I have something I need your assistance with.”

“Edgy? That means a lot coming from a sword.” Guin retorted, internally wondering how the sentient sword even worked. It appeared to be fully capable of speech and other cognitive functions.

However, she was quick to brush off her curiosity when the object mentioned their organization. She glanced around; this could be a trick. “We’re always open to helping the, erm, less fortunates. Please follow me to the kitchen.” She opened the flip-up countertop for the strange duo before heading to the said room.

“Head inside,” Mia commanded the deathless.

The deathless hesitated, “But wouldn’t I hit my head?”

“That’s why you duck your head!” Mia said in exasperation, “Why is it that I can only create morons?”

The deathless followed Mia’s command and went into the kitchen, hitting his head on the door frame in the process. Mia cursed ungracefully, but the deathless quickly recovered, following Guin into the kitchen.

The fragrance of tomato and basil permeated their senses. Around them were countless pots of soup, ingredients, utensils, kitchen equipment, and a lone mirror standing by a corner. There were a few cooks working inside, but they only gave the Queen polite nods before returning to their duties.

Guin leaned on one of the free counters, a reasonable distance from the nearest worker, before crossing her arms and regarding Mia. “Alright, I’m all ears.”

“I can’t even see your ears,” Mia muttered under her breath.

The Joker tilted her head a little.

“I’ll get to the point,” Mia said bluntly, “I want the Ace of Diamonds, William Code, dead.”

“He killled both my ancestral liege and the man I loved,” Mia said, bitterness in her voice, “It was the life mission of that man to defeat Code. So now, it is my mission. But I can’t do it by myself. I’m just a blade with no wielder. I need the help of the Jokers. You guys want to tear down the establishment, right? So you should be able to help me kill Code.”

“Ah, a fellow victim of an Ace separating people from their loved ones.” Guin pressed a knuckle over her covered chin thoughtfully. “Birds of a feather really do flock together.”

Never, in her twenty-eight years of existence, did Guin ever thought she would sympathize with a talking sword. Alas, life was full of surprises. That said, she couldn’t fully agree with its notion either. It was strange, but there was a small voice lingering at the back of her head; it didn’t want William dead.

“Indeed. The Jokers aspire to break the corrupt system of the Four Suits- Diamonds’ included.” She confirmed

After a short pause, she pointed at the strange man while arching an eyebrow. “I take it this dead brain is not your wielder.”

“No, he’s one of the fallen at Valencia,” Mia said, “A mere butler, I believe. My wielder was traditionally a member of the Einstadt family, ever since Fyodor Einstadt at the infancy of the Four Suits. But with my wielder dead, I haven’t yet been able to track down the other family members of the Einstadt family.”

“I can create many more of these,” a swirl of dysida surrounded the deathless to allow Mia to illustrate what she meant, “If you will help me, I will help you create your own army. What do you say?”

If Guin wasn’t wearing a mask then her slacked jaw and bulging eyes would be for everyone to see. “I-um, wha- by gods! You have to be kidding me!” The freaking sword just did what she has been grating her behind for all her life! It brought someone dead, for more than a minute, back to life!

The surrounding cooks flung their heads to their direction upon her uncharacteristic outburst. Flustered, the royalty snapped her fingers and constructed a tinted wall of mana, obscuring them from the rest.

“Y-You’re a necromancer?” Her voice was hushed, yet still packed with shock. “I am the same, but mine is horrendously dumber than yours. In fact, I doubt they’re even capable of thinking.” To demonstrate, the Queen flung a taste of her magic to a nearby dead chicken on the larder. The animal rose back to life and started hopping back and forth until it dumbly fell to the ground. Of course, chickens were a bad gauge of intelligence but she wanted to prove they practiced the same craft.

“I thought I was the only practitioner. Necromancy has always been a forbidden practice.” The reason they were beyond rare was because of the ridiculous witch hunts. Only a few could remain hidden, much less survive them. “Who are you exactly?”

It was well-known to Mia that necromancers were frequently hunted down. But she felt that she should be safe with the Joker in front of her knowing since she doubted that criminals would turn another criminal in.

“Well, how rude of me,” Mia said, “I forgot to introduce myself.”

“What do you mean? You’re always rude?” the deathless mumbled.

“Shut up,” Mia’s words were like a stab.

“My name is Amelia Chevrolet,” Mia said proudly, “Former Queen of Spades. I came to Ornare from Argossia to have the freedom to hone my interest in necromancy. But like the Suits have done for you, they shunned me for the magic that I practiced. Hence I was forced into this vessel you see now.”

Once more, Guin was taken aback. “You are the first Queen of Spades…!” She almost exclaimed. “We studied a few accounts about you in law school.” Amelia was explicitly portrayed as a bad example, but the former Queen didn’t need to know that.

“But how were you able to retain your sentience despite your current form?” She drew closer, eager to inspect the sword. “Could it possibly be an artefact?”

“Yes, I believe it is some sort of necromancy artefact that allows my soul to continue living on inside this sword,” Mia said, “I can still speak, see, hear, and cast my magic.”

“Interesting. It means your soul is a hundred percent intact.” Guin mused, her eager eyes still scrutinizing the artefact as she bent a little.

“It’s a touch embarrassing though that they teach about me,” Mia said. If a sword could blush, she would be blushing right now. “I assume you were once a prospective Queen?”

The female in question straightened herself before giving a nod. It wasn’t a lie. She was indeed a prospective Queen before. And now, she was an actual queen, in more ways than one.

“The Jokers dubbed me as True Queen, but you can address me as Victoria instead.” She slightly dipped her head forward in acknowledgement. “It’s a tad embarrassing to admit as well, but you’re a big inspiration of mine.” It was once again true. It has been implied in her former school that Queen Chevrolet could raise the dead. It was one of the few things which assured Guin she wasn’t in a goose chase.

“Well, that’s erm… flattering,” Mia said with a bit more than just a little embarrassment, “History seems to remember me as a disgrace, so I’m assuming you mean in regards to my necromancy, right?”

Guin shrugged, “Perhaps.”

Mia was silent for a few moments, then she spoke.

“How’s this? You and the Jokers help me kill Code,” Mia offered, “And I will teach you all I know about necromancy.”

The Queen paused to ponder. She couldn’t kill William. Even if she had the means to, she couldn’t. She needed William. But on the other hand, who else could offer the same knowledge? For all she knew, Queen Chevrolet and she could be the last necromancers in the continent.

Guin promised she’d do whatever it takes to bring her family back. If she had to dance on both fences, then so be it.

“Well then. Wielding a sword isn’t exactly my forte, but I hope you don’t mind.” She finally answered before extending her hand to the deathless, a silent cue for the sword.

“Lloyd wasn’t much of a sword wielder himself, but he turned out alright,” Mia said, “Go ahead and hand me over.”

The deathless removed Mia’s scabbard and handed it over to the Queen.

“Understand this, I still need to someday return to my ancestral liege,” Mia said, “But for now, if you help me, I’ll help you. It’s good to work with you, Victoria.”

“Likewise, Queen Chevrolet,” Guin wrapped her fingers around Mia’s hilt, a satisfied smirk tugging on her concealed lips, “Likewise.”

 

[Coyote Hart]

Never has a collab ever made me want to beat the shit out of someone as this one.
. D O V E Goonfire Coyote Hart Kloudy

​

Deep within the Heart’s castle was an underground chamber. Strong iron bars separated it from the outside world. The air inside was flat since there was only one direction it could circulate. This was the Heart’s deepest dungeon, where the most dangerous of the dangerous criminals were put. It was a fitting place for the Royal Flushe member, Four, to be kept.

The three remaining Heart royalty descended the steps of the dungeon, making sure to avoid hitting their heads on the low ceiling. When they emerged into the single-celled room, the glow of a torch illuminated the figure of Four. She sat cross-legged in the centre of her chamber, eyes closed in apparent meditation. Her olive skin seemed paler than usual, likely for lack of the sun on her features. Her regal elven face now appeared slightly sunken, her diet poorer than it had been when her freedom was truly free. As the triad approached her cell, she glanced up and smiled. Her calm, polite demeanour never seemed to falter even in spite of her perilous conditions. She did not speak first but regarded each of them with interested curiosity.

“Good afternoon,” Twig said. His expression wasn’t as calm and gentle as it usually was, rather, it radiated what could only be described as an intense disappointment. “We’re here to just get to know some things about you and the people you work for. Don’t worry too much, you won’t be harmed.”

“Harmed?” Four rose an eyebrow somewhat coyly with a dry smile, “I suppose you would be the merciful type, would you not?”

“If you call this mercy, then yes,” Guin interjected as she stepped forward, eyes darting around the prison. While the environment didn’t seem too shabby for its kind, the Queen would never want to switch places with the Flushe. She looked undeniably awful- not that she felt bad. If anything, Four deserved it; granting her immediate death after everything she has done would be mercy. “But I suppose this cell is way better than babysitting Three.”

Finally, her eyes landed on the elf’s. “You spoke of a grandiose goal before your capture. We’re interested. Whether you cooperate or not is irrelevant.”

The elfin woman raised a hand to her face as she regarded Guin from behind bars.

"I can oblige. What is it you would like to know?" She responded simply.

Guin crossed her arms. Criminals who show this willingness to comply usually have something up their sleeves. Then again, Four has always struck her as the most reasonable member of the infamous group.

Her eyes narrowed, “Your cause.”

Four tilted her head curiously, "Are you asking after my cause, or the Flushe's?"

“Ah, so they’re separate.” The queen raised her brow, interest piqued. “I want to know both. Let’s start with yours.”

"All the Flushe are fighting for their own goals. Working together has always been a means to an end," Four brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and sighed softly, "As you say, I am their babysitter. I watch to make sure things do not get out of hand."

Guin huffed. “Oh, of course,” her shoulders rolled to a shrug, “Massacring countless innocents isn’t out of hand.”

Twig worriedly bit his thumb in thought. If Four was the Flushe’s babysitter, Twig was scared to think of what the Flushe were willing to do without someone to look after them.

The elf raised a hand to conceal a playful smile, "Oh yes. You should hear what Three wishes to do with you."

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Three has always been a raging fan.” The queen retorted. “She simply can’t stop bugging me.” It seems like Guin’s frequent endeavors with Twig had been taking its toll. Twig flashed Guin a humored look.

Nevertheless, she still wasn’t one to get sidetracked. “Is this your only goal? To simply fulfill your role in the group?”

“For now,” Four shrugged casually, apparently unconcerned, “I have not been instructed to do anything more for the Flushe.”

Twig, who had been standing in the back and letting Guin, who was ever the more socially competent one, do the interrogating. But now he realized that Four had never really told them what her cause was.

“So your role with the Flushe is to be their babysitter,” Twig said, “But why? Why are you their babysitter?”

Twig wanted to know the root reason of the Royal Flushe existing, even if he would only hear it only from Four’s perspective.

Four switched her gaze to Twig as he spoke up and placed her hands in her lap. Again she bore that ever-present cordial smile.

"Because that is what I was instructed to do. My master does not operate by half-measures, so I do what I can." Four seemed to be enjoying evading answering the questions directly, but there seemed to be clues in what she said. Her eyes glanced between the two royals with trivial interest.

Oh, so that was her game. Answering things vaguely, as to not give away anything important. Twig decided that he would continue to push into what Four was talking about, because in the end, he knew that Leo would be able to extract information from her. Any information Four willingly provided would be useful in deciding the importance of various matters.

“Master?” Twig hissed in a breath of air, “Yikes. Have you been enslaved? Because if you have, I’ll need to talk with the other royals to ensure that your slave master is put to justice.”

Twig knew that Four wasn’t referring to slavery, since Twig had reffered to both Marillys and Perry, his cleric teacher, as ‘master.’ He hoped that Guin would have gone down the same route of thinking. Depending on Four’s answer, Twig would know if this subject of Four’s master would be something they could easily get information on… or if it was information that she dearly hoped would never reach the light of day.

Four's expression faltered for a moment, the elf seemingly surprised by Twig's comment. The silence lasted for a moment… before giving way to stifled laughter breaking out.

"Put him to justice? To justice! Ohhh!" She took a few moments to compose herself once more before returning her attention to the Jack, her polite smile twitching in threat of becoming a grin once more.

"You are very funny. No, I am not a slave, except for one of fate." She arched a quizzical eyebrow at Twig, "As a reward for your humour, perhaps we may strike a deal? I will tell you who my master is."

Twig frowned in Four’s response. So she was willing to discuss who her master was. And beyond that, the idea of putting him to ‘justice’ was somehow a funny idea. There was also the detail that Four’s master was a man. But what did it all mean?

“I don’t like making deals with terrorists,” Twig said, “But if all you wanted was some humor, then by all means, go ahead and tell me.”

Four looked about her cell, running her eyes over the particularly dirty or disgusting sections. She looked back to Twig expectantly.

"In exchange, I would appreciate cleanlier accommodation. These are somewhat barbaric conditions, no?"

Twig followed Four’s eyes around the room. It really was unsuitable for any prisoner, and Twig would never want to switch places with Four. The room was probably built long before the dynamic trio of royals had taken power. However, Twig knew that there wasn’t really much reason to provide better accommodations. Internal ideas in the Jokers had been floating around, and while Twig absolutely disagreed with the idea of using Four as a means to an end, he knew that for the Jokers to survive in such a harsh world, he would have to put aside his morals. But providing better accommodations couldn’t hurt.

“I hope that you understand that we can’t relocate you,” Twig said, “But we can certainly clean up the filth and make things more comfortable. How are your back and neck muscles? Any pain or soreness?”

"Very well," The elfin woman had not yet moved from her position on the floor, but she now decided to stretch her neck to the side with a small series of clicks. As her hair flicked to one side, the edge of some kind of tattoo on the back of her spine was visible to Twig.

"My body is not so frail that it would be bested by the likes of this. My training saw fit to much harsher environments, I am afraid."

Twig had noticed the tattoo on Four’s spine, but decided that he would wait on it.

“Good. How about I help out with the dirtiness right now?” Twig asked, “I’d like to ask if you’re able to use your mana neutralization to keep me from accidentally going overboard.”

Four tilted her head to the side again, apparently confused, "That would simply disable your magic, no?"

“You don’t have any way of preventing me from hitting a mana cap?” Twig said in a disappointed manner. Looks like one of the plans the Jokers had with the rings wouldn’t come to fruition. “No worries. I’ll do my best to control myself.”

Twig raised a hand in the air, and despite the lack of circulating air, a strong breeze billowed. The air, highly concentrated and controlled, whipped around Twig, sending his hair and clothes in a frenzy. They picked up the dust and grime in the room and collected it all in one pile outside of the cell. Like Twig though, the wind also caused Four’s hair to billow in the air, exposing her tattoo completely.

"You have my gratitude, Mr. Terwilliger." Four smiled somewhat more genuinely, smoothing out creases in her clothing and finger-combing her hair back into place.

Once settled, she surveyed her surroundings once more. It certainly seemed cleaner, if not still fairly dim. A dungeon was a dungeon after all. Her surveying incidentally also happened to reveal the tattoo on the back of her neck. It was an open hand with an eye in its palm. Perhaps it was just a trick of the low light, but the inked eye almost seemed to move imperceptibly towards Twig. Then Four turned around and the body art was gone from sight once again.

Twig’s eyes widened at the tattoo, but he said nothing other than exchanging glances with Leo and Guin. He adjusted his clothing and asked, “So, your master. What can you tell me about him?”

He already had an inkling of a feeling what Four was going to say, but it was best that he heard it from her mouth. Leolin remained further back in the darkness to conceal an expression of great disdain. Eventually, he was able to push back any raw feelings towards Four. He slowly paced into the room, rubbing his weary eyes. “I will be confirming everything you say at the end of this, so please stick to your end of this bargain and don’t withhold details,” he warned her in an uncharacteristically blunt manner.

Four raised a hand to her collarbone in a poor attempt to feign shock, but regarded the Ace with a smile as always, “Of course.”

Her eyes returned to Twig now, given he had originally asked the question.

“I am certain you have already checked, but the markings on my nape are intriguing, no?” She touched the back of her neck with her hand, a nostalgic and even somewhat fond expression crossed her features.

“Yes, and?” Twig said, providing nothing else.

“Surely you have heard the rumours regarding the Disciples of Dorian?” Four turned around to sit facing away from the trio now, parting her hair so they could get a proper look at the tattoo. For Leolin, the Ace would be able to sense a strange mana foreign to Four’s locked inside the marking.

Four looked back at Twig from a side angle, “Let me dissuade you from believing it to be simply a rumour.”

If anyone has been keeping their eyes on the Queen, they would notice the subtle crack in her composed demeanor. She crossed her arms, feeling her shoulders tense ever so slightly. A recollection of her past conversation with the King of Diamonds played in her mind; he warned her about him.

“Go on then.” She prompted while her scrutinizing eyes trailed the markings on Four’s skin, memorizing every detail.

Four allowed them a moment to survey the marking before turning around again to face them. She faced both of her palms to the ceiling as if she were a weighing scale.

"You may or may not choose to believe me, but the gods of old are real and still alive. Dorian is among them as a rule-keeper of sorts. If the balance tips too far to one side…" One of Four's hands dipped and the other rose, "Then his disciples are sent to correct it."

Her hands fell back to a horizontally equal position.

“I believe it alright,” Twig said, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration. So not only were the gods real, and that Guin and Arimand both believed that they were in conflict with each other, but now it seemed that Dorian himself was standing against the Hearts. Dorian’s balance was a horrible, autocratic balance, enforced by might rather than reason.

“So, you’re one of Dorian’s Disciples,” Twig said, “Why has he sent you to assist the Royal Flushe? How does… what seems like resurrecting Darigaas play a part in Dorian’s ‘balance?’”

Four put a finger to her mouth for a moment, considering the question as she turned the answer over in her mind.

"I suppose it is complicated. The Flushe do not intend to revive… him," Even Four had to pause for a moment, unwilling to even say his name, "But One wishes to harness the power for himself. He is quite vengeful, incidentally."

Four didn't say anything more on that subject, but she did glance at Leolin for a brief second before settling back to Twig.

"As I have said, my role is fulfilled. You may consider me no longer a member of the Royal Flushe."

“Sure, but you must know that even though you renounce your title as a Royal Flushe, you still are a terrorist,” Twig said. What a mess. He had a feeling that Four would likely not speak more about the subject, so now it was up to Leo to verify the information and see if there was anything Four was hiding. Twig gave Four a sad glance, “I hope Dorian understands that actions have consequences. We can’t treat you as anything but a terrorist just because you’re the devotee of a god.”

“Do as you please.” Four smiled politely.

“What possible balance could genocide bring?” Leo failed to grasp the whole situation and its causes. “Revenge and balance are two entirely different matters. We mind our own business and strive to keep our people healthy, happy, and heard, so how would murdering good people even help in the big picture?” The ace pulled off his glove in preparation for his reading. “Furthermore, what kind of magic is contained in that mark?” He wanted to hear it all from her mouth before he intruded in her mind.

Four simply shrugged in response, “I am the servant. It is not my place to know.”

“I think we’ve heard enough.” Guin, who had been oddly silent, decided. They have yet to discover the Flushe’s goal as a whole, but it wasn’t something Leolin’s ability couldn’t fix. With that, she waved her hand once and her magic permeated the cell, sapping what mana was available while sparing the royal occupants and the necessary enchantments in the dungeon. On the other hand, the same couldn’t be said for Four as Guin’s magic slipped through her skin, trying to siphon the mana from her tattoos if there was any. It was a precautionary measure in case Four has something up her sleeves; her markings made the queen feel like she was being watched. As the spell washed over the marking, magical sparks erupted from it in a bright show of blue light. Nothing otherwise adverse happened thereafter, other than Four wagging a finger at the Queen. However, it seemed that whatever it was, it could not be drained.

Guin narrowed her eyes at the elf, waiting for something else to happen but nothing followed. The glow reminded her of future William’s promise. They had already fulfilled the deal months ago yet she could still feel him lingering at the back of her mind. It felt as though their meeting left its own marking within her.

“Fascinating…,” she muttered. However, she brushed her curiosity aside for the mean time and opted to glance at Leolin, knowing full well he’d be able to satiate her questions. “It’s time.” She told him as she nodded her head at Four’s direction.

Leo nodded and approached Four carefully. “What irritates us is that we don’t know, either,” he admitted while handing Twig his swords—a precautionary measure before he slipped into the jail cell and closed the door behind him. “Remember this, Four: the bulk of our hostility lies with the rest of the Flushe.” He then reached down, resting his bare hand gently upon her forehead.

A gust of light, energy and sounds whirled up at him within Leolin's mind, places and events cropping up and melting away in a medley of memory. One fixed into place. Four was in some kind of cavern, bioluminescence stuck to the rock walls in blobs haphazardly. It seemed to be some kind of underground excavation at the behest of Three and her creatures. Four was walking along the cave and soon came to the entrance of a wider space. One was standing by it, apparently discussing something with Three. Four stopped a few feet short and greeted them.

"One, Three, it is good to see you both. I assume we are on schedule?"

One turned to face Four, his usual mask covering the lower half of his face as always. He nodded, deep in thought about something.

"Yes. The attack on Atria going smoothly has certainly accelerated our plans. We can begin the fusing process soon. Three?" The assassin looked to the half-bug woman for confirmation, who nodded curtly.

"Two has entered gestation. He will be ready for bonding soon," She glanced into the larger cavern behind her briefly before looking back, "But I don't have enough food yet. And then there's that King…"

One placed a hand to his chin, pinching his mask with a furrowed brow.

"We can deal with him. Four, you will have to suppress him long enough for Five to finish her preparations." He gave the martial artist a questioning look.

"Of course," Four bowed her head without hesitation, as prim and proper as usual.

"Good," One nodded to himself, coming to some kind of reasonable resolution in his head, "Where is Five now?"

"Playing with her toys in the menagerie." Four responded, rolling her eyes and covering a smirk with her hand.

"Three, tell her to meet me here, now." Three nodded and extended an arm, a large flying insect buzzing out from her sleeve and disappearing off into the tunnel. The scene began to shift and morph once more.

“A tunnel… Atria…Two… Bonding… A menagerie...” Leo muttered words as the visions went on. The memory was so strong. He needed to let go for a moment to catch his breath and clear his mind again. “What was Two bonding with…?” He then continued the reading.

Suddenly, Leolin found himself in a much smaller cave. Slumped against the far wall was a ragged man, injured and seemingly exhausted. Four entered from the opposite entrance, her gait elegant and graceful. She approached the man and nudged him with her foot. In an instant, the man had jumped to his feet and launched a speedy fist at the Flushe's face. The strike stopped short however, chains rattling at his wrists and ankles. What stopped him, however, was the fist that was now in his gut. Four watched passively as the man sunk to his knees with a groan. Four picked him up and gently laid him against the wall once more, revealing his face.

It was King Axton, Bearer of the Dragon.

"Energetic today, are we not?" Four walked back to the entrance and returned with a metal tray. Balanced on it was a bowl of some kind of soup and a roll of bread. Next to it was a teapot and two ceramic teacups.

“‘Energetic today, are we not?’” Leolin echoed through clenched teeth. “Dammit, show me where he is!”

“Four, please do not give Leo a mental breakdown,” Twig directed Four, who only responded with a thumbs up.

Axton groaned once again and shifted into a more comfortable position against the wall, doggedly trying to find purchase on it with his hands so as to lift himself up. Four set the tray down in front of him, sat down and began pouring the tea. Even through the spell, Leolin could smell the sweet aroma. Placing the teapot down and picking up a cup, Four attempted to hand it to Axton. The King responded by trying to swat it away weakly, but Four withdrew the cup and his swipe missed. She tutted to herself and put the cup down, this time picking up the soup and spoon. In his exhausted state, Axton had no choice but to allow the Flushe member to feed him the broth. Four did so for a while before putting it back on the tray.

"Your role will be fulfilled soon. We have been very happy with your cooperation so far, well done." Four gave Axton a small clap of encouragement, causing the man to glare at her from under his messy hair.

"Cooperation? I'd kill you if I had the chance. In fact I just might-" Flames began to sputter from Axton's hands, but quickly died down as Four's neutralisation field activated. She shook her head a little patronisingly and wagged a finger at him.

"Come now, Axton. You know your mind is too exhausted to summon your spells swiftly. My neutralisation can quash it easily, so let us not be foolish here." Four was now stood upright, sending a booted-foot into the man's sternum sharply. Axton let out a spluttering cough and doubled over, winded and wheezing. Once again, Four sat him upright and then sat opposite him. She picked up his teacup and put it to his lips, tipping it slightly. He sipped a little this time.

"There, there." Four smiled nicely at the hopeless man, "It will all be over soon, my dear King."

The scene began to shift again…

Leo’s expression contorted in pain with each strike, until he had lost all regard for Four and her well-being. What upset him most was that he couldn’t determine the cave’s location. “Show me MORE. Where did you TAKE HIM!?” The quivering hand resting on her forehead came to clench her long locks abruptly, her whole body dangling off the ground, eyes leveled with the two white-hot coals in the Ace’s head. Four winced slightly as she was lifted. Steam rose from the tears trickling down his face. The whole time, he continued watching the barbaric sequences play out in his mind.

“Leo! We need her alive!” Twig shouted, which wasn’t really loud at all, “Whatever she’s done, we’ll bring her to justice later, and make sure she’s paid dearly.”

“I swore to protect all my people, including you and Guin… and even him.” Leo’s voice faltered for a moment. “And then I see this crap. She beat him!”

“Him? Who’s him?” Twig demanded.

“Axton! They had him in a cave. Tea time became a fucking beating!” Finally, the furious man lowered her back onto the floor, but his harsh grip persisted. “Dammit…!”

"I did as I was asked." Four interjected.

“That isn’t an excuse,” Twig growled, “You monster.”

“That’s enough.” Guin cut from her position, hands balled into tight fists. “Continue.”

The vision continued, this time Leolin was greeted with the sight of Valencia. Standing on a ridge in the mountains, Coalition soldiers were busy forming up in the distance, all preparing for the final battle with the Argossian Empire. Four, Three and One were watching on as the introduction to the final battle for the continent began. Four raised a hand to her brow, shielding her eyes from the sun to get a better look. Three appeared to be busy fiddling with something hidden in her sleeve. One addressed them both with a short cough.

"You know what you have to do. We will be needing as many as that monster of yours can hold if this is to work," He looked to Four, "Ensure she survives. This whole operation is finished if Three is slain. Die for her if you have to."

Four nodded, entirely unfazed at being told to die for their cause. One nodded too, apparently satisfied. Turning around, he made his way back from the rock cliff and disappeared into a hole in the ground. Four turned to Three now.

"Everything is prepared for tomorrow, yes?" She enquired.

"Obviously," Three scowled, flicking her hair to the side. A centipede crawled from her locks and into her robes, "I don't do things by halves like that idiot."

Four's mouth curled with humour, which she covered with a hand as was custom for her. Three was clearly talking about Two and his careless demeanor. They both seemed to grate on each other at any given time, but these days that dynamic had been missing. With Two still suspended in Three's gestation chambers, it had been a long time since they had spoken with him. These thoughts swirled about Leolin's consciousness like his own, melding with his inner narrative.

"I have yet to ask: why are you with the Flushe? What are you seeking?" Four had joined the Royal Flushe after Three had, so she didn't know.

"Revenge." Three stated simply and vehemently, "That's why we're all here. We are all here to get justice on those that have wronged us."

Four raised an eyebrow curiously, "And who has wronged you?"

"This kingdom," Three's eyes looked feral and aggressive, a snarl forming on her lips, "I will tear apart this land and those that inhabit it for what they have done to me. I will spare none. Forgive none."

Four nodded thoughtfully and ran her gaze over the horizon slowly, finally resting on Valencia. She twisted a curl of hair around her finger.

"Then I suppose it is time for you to claim your vengeance…"

The vision began to melt and change again. Now Four was in some kind of sheltered stone circle. Trees, vines and creepers hung low from overhead, covering the large stone statue of a hand shielding the temple below. Staring directly down from the centre of the palm was an eye. Four was sat cross-legged at the foot of the altar. A leather book was laid open atop it, although dust had been collecting on it for a while. Four sat there meditating for a few minutes before she opened her eyes. She could sense his energy and, strangely enough, so too could Leolin. A cloaked figure entered from the open tree line, moving between the weathered stone pillars that encircled Four. He came closer and stopped at the altar, placing a hand on the book.

"Welcome, my master." She bowed her head with respect.

"Rise, my disciple. I have need of you."

Four indeed rose to her feet, watching the cloaked figure for further instruction. He was slender and tall, but his voice was unmistakably male. He appeared to be reading the book, hand still pressed to the page.

"There is an assassin gathering mages in this kingdom. You must find and join him. Aid his plans until you are defeated." His hand sunk into the book, somehow melding into the page and swallowing up his wrist too. Four simply watched but did not react.

"Yes, master." She gave a curt nod. Hands behind her back, she seemed almost more serious than Leolin likely knew her to be. She did not ask for further explanation, waiting to be dismissed or to hear further instruction.

The cloaked man withdrew his hand from the book and gazed into his palm. For some reason it was hard to make out from the confines of the vision, but Leolin could almost make out what looked like a ball in the man's hand. A white orb nestled neatly in his palm.

And then the ball blinked, looking directly in Leolin's direction.

A horrible shiver went up Leo’s spine. He immediately recoiled, discarding Four by nearly throwing her away from him causing her to skid across the cell floor. He wanted some space, so he slipped back out of the cell, slamming the door hard. He moved away from the zealot’s view, then rubbed his temples. “I’ve seen enough,” he breathed.

Twig could only guess that Leo had seen something horribly amiss. With uncertainty, he passed Leo's swords back to him.

"I can now say that I was right," Twig looked at Four with disgust, "You're just a mindless sheep. A slave with no idea of right or wrong."

"Maybe we should talk elsewhere about what to do with her," Twig suggested.

Picking herself up from the cell floor, Four returned to the centre of the space and sat cross-legged once again. Her lip had a cut on it now, but she smiled at them all the same.

"I sincerely hope you saw what you were seeking." She covered her mouth with a hand and a small pulse of green mana lit her face.

“What we’re seeking…?” Guin’s voice echoed, a slight tremble besmirching the end of her sentence. “You don’t have the faintest clue of what we’re seeking.”

Four moved her hand back to her lap, the cut on her lip now healed. She seemed confused by Guin's reaction.

"Perhaps the location of the Royal Flushe? You seem particularly interested in them given their aggression to your kingdom over the years." She replied simply with a slight question in the inflection of her tone.

“Correct.” The Queen said, her gaze sharpening as the ever familiar inferno beneath her sanguine eyes raged. “But more than that, I too seek power. I too seek vengeance.” She was just like One, Three, and the rest of the Royal Flushe; the very kingdom which she ran has done her plenty wrong. But did a god descend and help her? Did Dorian even give a damn when her family got reduced into ashes? Where was his balance when the former Ace of Hearts perverted his power and massacred countless? “The monster who killed my entire family is rotting sixty feet under, but even then I am unsatisfied. I am still seeking something.
I wish to correct this kingdom. I wish to correct this world!”

Amidst her fury, Guin teleported right behind Four, pushing her to the ground before yanking her hair upwards, exposing the tattoo on her nape. “I reject.” Dorian had no right. The gods have no right to control them like this. “I refuse to be treated like a pawn to your game! The Flushe will fall and so will anyone who comes in my way!”

Four looked back at Guin from the corner of her eye, still smiling despite having her hair being yanked every which way.

"We are all pawns in the game, Ms. Blanca. Mortals do not often get a say in which pieces are sacrificed." She decided now to raise a hand to grab Guin's wrist and twisted so that the queen would let go of her. Four was still physically stronger than the Queen. She didn't attack, but instead took a step away from Guin and sat down on the cell floor again.

"I did not."

Guin fell silent, eyes still fixed on the solemn elf. Seeing her like this, utterly passive, reminded her of a helpless cattle. She was just waiting for a wolf to come and devour her.

“Tell me, did you even try to stand up?” She palmed the wrist which the other female held.

Four regarded the Queen with a mix of confusion and curiosity, "No, I sought him out to become a disciple. I trained so I could become a valuable piece. Useful pawns do not get sacrificed."

Guin let out a short laugh, a little bit inching into madness. “I don’t understand. Why do you have so much faith in your god?”

Four gave a genuine smile towards Guin this time, "Of all the gods, Dorian is the fairest. For all the bad that happens on Yune, there is good that comes too. In following him, my path will never have karma unbalanced."

So, this was faith. Guin couldn’t decide if she should find it amusing or foolish. For someone to have absolute trust on another, enough to follow them blindly regardless of their own wishes, was something she never experienced. The only person she ever truly believed in was herself.

“I don’t… understand.” The anger in her voice has dissipated, in its wake was nothing but clear confusion. Her eyes darted around the room, the gears in her mind were desperately working for her to grasp the concept, but she simply couldn’t. How was it fair for Dorian to help mad terrorists commit genocide but obstruct her from getting her family back? Who the hell made him in charge of balance? All the information she had learned over the past few months, about the gods and whatnots, were only giving her more and more questions. They were too many; she felt like her head was going to explode.

“Just…,” she gritted her teeth, “Just help me!” Guin didn’t even know who she was talking to anymore, but her eyes found their way back on the disciple.

"Very well. What would you like help with?" Four inquired politely.

“I want to change the Suits for the better.” Guin admitted with clenched fists. “But I can’t do that with the Royal Flushe lingering in the dark. I must- no, we must defeat them once and for all.” She gestured towards her most trusted companions, Leo and Twig. Four looked to them then back at Guin with a nod.

"I can show you where the Flushe had previously resided. They will have left there by now though. As you may have guessed, they use Three's great wyrm to move around below the ground undetected." She tapped the stone floor with a finger, tracing a squiggly line.

"If I were to predict their course, they will still be somewhere inside the Badlands mountains."

The Queen regarded her with a scrutinizing eye. “This sounds awfully like a trap.”

Four simply shrugged in response, "Do as you please. I do not feign allegiance to either of your factions."

Four found it rude to reject someone's help after just asking for it. Rudeness was perhaps one of the few things that irked the martial artist.

Guin took a deep breath. She still had great doubts about this but she must soldier on. If anything, they could take notes of her information and send soldiers to investigate the area.

“Very well.” The least she could do was give the other female the benefit of doubt. “Can you… can you tell me your true name?”

Four smiled, "Olivii Von Archinald Nissa. My mother was a noble and my father an elf labourer."

Guin wasn’t entirely shocked by the revelation. Four carried herself in a very refined manner. She paused, pondering for a moment before proceeding. “What would you like to be called?”

"Olivii, Ms. Nissa, Four; whichever you would prefer is fine." The elf shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

“Olivii.” Guin decided. She could only associate the name ‘Four’ with babysitting and genocide, so she opted this would at least make things a little bit better.

“Do you know the real names of the remaining Flushe?” She knew all except Five’s, but it was always better to be sure.

"One is… Yaanagi. Two is Nasham, I believe. I think Three is Farlene," Olivii took a moment to ponder it, "I do not know Five's name, unfortunately."

Her answers rang true to what they knew. “I see.” Guin responded. Five was the most mysterious member so far and they knew little close to nothing about her.

“You mentioned One wishes to wield Darigaas’ power. Do you know how he plans to achieve this? And, just to confirm, King Axton… is he gone?”

"One never tells us his entire plan, only our roles. I believe he wishes to transplant the Soul of the Dragon God into Two and use him to lay waste to your kingdom." She shook her head, "I do not know if Axton will survive the procedure. Only Three and Five know the specifics."

“He will not.” Guin said, casting a solemn look to both Leo and Twig. Even if Axton did survive the process, the Royal Flushe would have no reason to keep him alive. Axton was a foolish man. He sought and kept the throne solely for his personal gain. His death meant little to Guin. Two getting his hands on Darigaas’ power, however, greatly concerned her. They need to stop the Flushe from completing the transfer.

She returned her attention to Olivii. “Leo reported Two has nine lives. What do you know about this?”

Four closed her eyes as she tried to remember, "I think he has the power to cheat death nine times per day. I do not know how it works, but I am sure the magic is not his own."

“I can confirm it’s not.” Guin gave a nod. “It’s either from an artefact or a blessing.” It would be repulsing if it was the latter. That would only mean the gods are truly in their favor. “Did you ever notice any strange item in his possession?”

Four shook her head once more, "No, he rarely uses even common weaponry. As you saw at Atria, he is quite the brawler."

“Two is already powerful as he is. Darigaas’ soul will only make him much more formidable. Even someone as strong as Leolin would have a hard time facing him.” The feline terrorist already managed to slip out of the Ace’s grasp once. She didn’t want to imagine what he’d be like if One’s plan came into fruition.

“It’s true, I’m afraid,” Leo stated, coming to rest against the cell bars. He had calmed himself while Guin dug for answers, but still seemed troubled. “They’ve had Two in some kind of ‘gestation’ process for a while, I assume.” He looked at Four out of the corner of his eye. “But what makes One think he’ll be in control once the infusion’s complete? Two fights merely for the sake of fighting, making him somewhat of a wild card.”

Four waved a hand dismissively, "Two already only listens to One. He is solely interested in becoming more powerful. Nasham is not very smart, so he allows One to do the thinking for him." She tapped the side of her temple with a confirming nod.

Twig stared down at the ground forlornly. While he hadn't known Axton for too long, he found it a shame that his fate was to be used and discarded by terrorists. But right now wasn't the time to dawdle on being sad. He had to get answers.

Throughout Guin's rampage, Twig didn't move as much as a hand, only listening along and watching. Now, he spoke up.

"I'm wondering, can you tell me as much as you know about Five?" Twig asked, "Look, mannerisms, powers, any of that?"

"She seems rather young. I have not seen her use magic nor speak. Her presence is rather strong though, like yours." She looked at Leolin, twirling a finger idly in his direction. "One brought her in one day, explaining that she was the final piece. Somehow, she is important for his plan."

“Five is at Ace level.” Guin stated once realization dawned upon her. “And what’s more, it sounds like she knows how to conduct the ritual.” The ritual for Darigaas’ transfer was only passed down to significant individuals, usually of noble birth.

Guin let out a heavy sigh before facing her fellow royals. “We can’t let the Flushe grow even stronger.” What a headache. If only that cowardly Three didn’t run away during their encounter in Valencia then this would have been all over.

It was then when her eyes glinted with an idea. She turned to Olivii. “That ability of yours…,” she trailed off, finding the right words, “Mana neutralization. Can you tell us more about it?”

"It stops others from expelling mana from their bodies at close range. You are familiar with it already, no?" Four adopted another confused look, unsure why Guin was questioning it now after having been made to deal with it many times already.

“And this affects anybody, regardless of rank, right?” Twig jumped in.

"Yes, I have yet to meet a mortal that can ignore the effects." Four nodded in confirmation.

Twig paced back and forth in the cramped dungeon. This was a very useful power, and one that he felt could help bring balance to the world.

“Olivii, one of the foundational ideals the three of us live by is the hope that the gap between ranks will vanish,” Twig said, “Your power may be very beneficial in bridging that gap. Will you be willing to help us out? We want to bring balance to this world.”

Four cast a dubious look in Twig's direction, fairly certain that his version of balance probably differed to what she believed true balance to be. Despite this, she was not particularly against helping her captors either. She did not feel strongly for or against their goals, so agreeing to supporting them would be a decision made solely on curiosity. If she was taking the wrong path, her master would guide her otherwise.

"Very well, I can lend you my support. I do hope it will be entertaining though. It is rather boring remaining locked in a cell." She stood up now, stretching her legs to the sides to ease out the tension in her muscles.

Leo stared into space, allowing the three to discuss their goals and the means to achieving them. “Ace-level…” he muttered under his breath, brow furrowed at the news. His resolve didn’t waver, though. “I’ll prepare my airship, if needed,” he informed Twig and Guin. Pulling on his glove with conviction, he headed towards the exit. “We’ll see about that, Five. We’ll just see about that.”

Guin nodded at Leolin, staring at his retreating figure until he disappeared from view. The amicable Ace rarely acted like this; the confirmation of Axton’s demise and the stress from his clairsentience must’ve been taking its toll. They should check up on him later. She shared a look with Twig before focusing on Olivii once again.

“Well then, I think we’re done here. Your support and cooperation are greatly appreciated, Olivii. I’ll see what I can do about your accommodations.” She said, her eyes staying on the courteous woman before turning around and heading for the door. “We’ll return.”

 

[LazyDaze]

WYSTERIA vs XIXIX
Music for the heart lol

Spoiler

​

“H-hello, is anyone there,” a 6 year old Wysteria called from behind rusted bars. Her soft, inquisitive voice betrayed the shackles on her feet. Even her curious, darting, sakura colored eyes refused to be consumed by the dark, dank cell she occupied. X, dropped off her tray of food. It was all he could do to stand after the second day of experiments, so he sat down, under the guise of “guard duty.”

“Hi, my name is,” Wysteria started before X turned his head, suddenly finding the wall more interesting than anything else in the dark cell. He was only doing his part in playing the good slave. He was told to feed the prisoner, nothing more, nothing less.

“You should eat…,” X stated dryly. He eventually turned to face the prisoner since she hadn’t moved this entire time. To his surprise, a frail arm was hoisted between the bars, holding an apple although her strength was quickly waning. It toppled over after her arm gave out for a brief moment; however, he caught it just before it hit the cold, stony floor. His eyes still locked with Wysteria’s, he moved to return it to its rightful owner. “Be careful or it will get dirty. Here, this is yours.”

Wysteria shook her head defiantly. She even held her hands behind her back to physicalky resist his gesture. “My last friend doesn’t come back anymore,” Wysteria said as she looked down toward the ground guiltily. “She started stealing the food that was meant for me and was punished. I would have shared if she had asked,” Wysteria said as her voice trailed off toward the end. X continued to listen to her story while regarding the apple in his hand, no doubt her “friend” was...missing for other reasons. Most likely having to do with the experiments being done here. His attention returned to the girl, who was probably only a few years younger than him, dressed in similar rags. Likely a useless servant.

“Are you being punished?”

“Father said it’s to protect me. There are some n-e-fair-s individuals after me.”

“Nefarious?”

“That’s what I said!”

X paused for a moment, he was stunned that the target's daughter would be locked up in prison. This astonishment was not due to any particular moral reason, but it was logically peculiar. Even more shocking, in a more pleasant surprise, this would be a gold mine of information. “Okay, wanna make a deal,” X said while moving the apple back between the bars. You couldn’t have your one source keeling over due to starvation. Wysteria instinctively pulled back again, not wanting to have her gift rejected.

“You eat ALL your food, and I’ll visit you again,” X said with what would have been a genuine smile, had it not been for the fact that he had practiced that same smile so many times in the mirror. It was strange how weaponized a simple gesture could become.

Suddenly a small pinky jutted out from between the bars, an unusually serious expression painted across the pink haired child. “You have to pinky-promise!” Indeed, it was very strange how a simple gesture could be weaponized.....X rolled his eyes at such a juvenile gesture as a stupid grin formed on Wysteria’s face. He complied with the demanding prisoner, allowed her to finish her food, and proceeded to exit the prison after he was finished.

“Wysteria,” she shouted with her face pressed against the bars although she was still unable to see X from this vantage point.

“What’s that,” X replied, deciding to play the role of a dumb kid. Well, dumb by his standards.

“It’s my name, what’s yours?”

“...Eren,” X lied.

“Eren…,” Wysteria repeated to herself with a sad smile before regaining her composure. “Eren, we’re friends now right? You’re really going to come back?”

“Sure,” X said, answering both questions simultaneously before returning to his mission.

“O-okay, cuz sometimes I get bored, and the air gets stuffy, and then it’s just too quiet, so it’s really nice to talk to someone else instead of always talking to myself, and and-"

“I’m coming back, sheesh.”

“Okay! Bye bye Eren,” she said as she waved. A stupid smile still on her face.

*******​

A few months after the battle of Valencia.

“Hellloooo, anyone home,” X said as he strolled to the middle of an undisclosed field. Grassy plains speckled with nearby forests stretched on for miles with no potential witnesses in the vicinity. A promise was a promise after all.

“You finally made it.” Wysteria was standing with her butterfly sword jammed into the earth. It seemed to threaten to cut all who came near her. Her piercing gaze was even more threatening, no doubt a talent bestowed by equally arrogant gods.

“...Any chance we can just have a picnic instead,” X said rubbing the back of his head. “I know a place-”

“Once I kill you, we can all finally move on. They’ll finally leave me alone and then I could forget about you completely. You were the one who promised me this chance, or are you rescinding your word,” Wysteria stated without moving from her position.

X placed his hands in his pockets as his usual blank expression softened. “Look, Wysteria...I-”

“Draw your weapon.”

X’s jaw clinched for a moment, and then relaxed as he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. His features immediately reverted back to the usual blank slate he wore for much of his life as he took a single hand out of his pocket. A luminescent green dice appeared, twisting and turning until it finally stopped, landing on number 8. Without taking his eyes off of Wysteria, X grabbed a large triple edged scythe that materialized in his hand. He couldn’t help but scoff at the symbolic meaning of holding such a foreboding weapon. After a few even breaths, he confirmed that the sudden chill in the air was not just a mental fabrication of some inner turmoil, but that his breath was indeed, very visible. “..So she’s already started, eh?”

X dashed toward Wysteria. Wysteria, in turn, lifted her mighty weapon in response. Today, she would haunt her past for once...…...

******​

A 9 year old X approached Wysteria as she was sleeping in her cell. Despite being on a stone floor, she seemed to be more comfortable than half the people in this estate. It truly was a shame she believed this was all due to some twisted love...well it didn’t really matter. All X needed to do was get as much information as possible. “Psst, melon head, wake up,” X said as he flicked a pebble inside the cell. Wysteria blinked a few times before slowly sitting up. She looked around as if she was suddenly awake in a new world. Her eyes would soon fall on X. Instantaneously, she ran toward the bars that separated them.

“Eren! You were gone for hours! I thought you got punished!”


“I was gone for days melon head,” X said, bonking her head through the prison bars.


“Hey, that isn’t very nice. I can’t tell time in here,” Wysteria pouted.


“It’s noon; I got your lunch.”


“Our lunch,” Wysteria said as she reached down and started separating the food.


“No, this is yours. I don’t want it.”


“No, I said we’re sharing!” Wysteria paused to look at X with that weird grown up look she always managed to muster when she felt like being stubborn. X simply held up his hands in defeat and helped her split the lunch.


“You realize this isn’t enough for two people,” X said with an equal adult like smugness. “We’ll both die if we keep this up.”


“Not if we pray.”


X nearly choked on his rock like bread when he heard this. Why was he stuck with an old soul, praying, five year old? “You’re seriously praying? In this place?”


“Yep,” Wysteria said with her hands clasped and eyes closed.


“Who are you praying to? I don’t think he can hear you.”


“That’s because you keep talking, and what makes you think it’s a he?”


“I don’t know. (Cuz a girl god would probably act like you),” X said while shrugging his shoulders. If Wysteria found the ease at which X was slicing up the apple with such finesse mysterious, she didn’t show it. “Anyways, your dad? Does he ever come down here?”


Wysteria gave up on praying, since concentrating seemed to be too difficult today. “Sometimes,” she said, popping a whole apple slice in her mouth and then regretting it.


“What’s he talk about,” X said without making a move to stop her from choking to death.


“He, GAH, ugh...he says he’ll be ACK..phew…..he’ll be stronger than me soon. I don’t know what that means. And oooh, sometimes, tutors come down to teach me how to talk...read...write...and number.”


“Math?”


“Yeah, that! They teach me to math!”


“Sure they do,” X smirked as he turned away to avoid her wrath, though he knew it was already fruitless.


“Hey! You just called me dumb!”


“Haha, no I didn’t!”


“YES YOU DID-”


X put a piece of bread in her mouth to win the argument and regain silence. “Time’s up melon, you can have my bread. Don’t worry, I prayed over that one. Welp, I’ll see you around.” X walked off, returning to hell as Wysteria began to slowly chew X’s portion of her lunch. For some reason, it tasted better than the other half; maybe his prayers actually worked.


“Thanks Eren,” Wysteria whispered to herself as the door was slammed shut.

*****​

“DIE,” Wysteria shouted from atop a cloud, hovering many feet in the air. Blood trickled down her face, and her left arm was broken. It was a small price to pay in order to land a hit on X. Another thunderbolt crashed down from her dark cloud into the forest that X had retreated into. “Awww, is X going to run away...LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES! THIS TIME YOU WILL DIE AS FATE INTENDED! I’ll then take your pretty little head, and hang it in my room to serve as a chandelier. Everyday, I’ll be able to bask in your final expression before death. IT WILL BE INTOXICATING! So please X, come out...I have to see you alive one more time...”


X rested behind a tree, listening to her taunts. His right jacket sleeve was burned right off of him. In fact, some of it was sticking to seared skin. He knew this wouldn’t be an easy victory this time. “...She’s in a good mood today,” he said to himself with a chuckle before popping back up. In a single swing, X cut clean through a tree and then took a few steps back. Just as it began to tilt, X began to sprint at full speed, running up the now diagonal tree and leaping off of its edge just before it fell. Wysteria turned around after hearing the rustling of leaves, firing a bolt of lightning toward the foreboding sound; however, she was a fraction of a second too late as X was barreling down on her faster than she anticipated. She attempted to move her cloud higher, to avoid X completely; however, the range of his weapon was too great, and he sliced through her cloud easily. They were now free falling down to earth. X used the chain like mechanism on his scythe as a rope that wrapped around Wysteria. He immediately pulled her toward him before she was able to conjure up another cloud to whisk herself away. Anticipating this, Wysteria manipulated the water in her cantene to jet out toward X as she fell. However, this water would transform to a highly corrosive acid although they both knew this was a last ditch effort to win the battle. X easily phased through the water as well as Wysteria herself, effectively switching their positions. She turned around to counter him, but his right hand went around her neck before she had time to counter his ability.


Many things went through X’s brain at that moment. He thought of victory, pain, ending her life right then and there. He had wanted to save her, and perhaps himself. Yet, he could feel that they were both reaching the limits of how much pain they could bear. Then his mind was blank as he ventured to a place he hadn’t gone in a long time. His eyes bulged, his scowl deepened, and the grip on her throat grew tighter until she was almost visibly searching for air. He could be done with it. Everything could be over right now and he probably wouldn't feel a thing. In just a few moments, he was going to drive her through the very earth they tread and bring this tragedy to a close. However, by chance, he happened to see her face. A face full of fear, a face that had seen a monster, a face that belonged to his friend. The tension left his body all at once as X released his vice grip on her throat. At the last second, he embraced Wysteria and spun in mid air, reversing their positions yet again, before crashing into the ground. If she had reached her limit, he would be strong for both of them.

*****​

Wysteria gasped when she saw the condition X was in during his latest visit. “Eren!? What happened!”


“Don’t worry melon head I’m fine-,” X said before his body betrayed him. He tumbled down the steps, spilling the contents of Wysteria’s dinner all over the floor. She shifted behind the bars, unable to help, but equally unable to accept helplessness. X cursed under his breath, for being unable to function in his condition and mustered up reserves of strength he didn’t think he had in order to sit up against a wall. He had dark bruises all over his body. His left eye was swollen shut. His ribs were likely damaged, if the needling pain with every breath was an indicator, and there was a good reason he was hiding his right hand behind his back.


Wysteria couldn’t even find words to speak when she saw his condition; instead she started sniffling as her eyes grew watery. “Eren…”


“I swear to gods, if you start crying like a baby, I’m leaving!”


“...But I am a baby,” Wysteria whimpered, the tears threatening to move past the “danger zone”.


“Can’t be, I would never make friends with a whiny baby.”


“O-okay,” She eventually pulled it together, and did her best not to focus on X’s injuries while they talked. X sighed when she calmed down, but instantly regretted it as the pain jutted into his ribs once more.


“...Well, I might be...replaced...if they find out I spilled all this food.”


Silence filled the air. Although X was attempting to protect Wysteria, after a couple of years living in this place she at least knew what really happened to people who disappeared in this place. Unprompted, Wysteria grabbed a potato off the ground, dusted it off, and began eating it.


“What are you doing, its dirt-”


“I don’t care! I won’t let them replace you Eren!”


Instead of going back and forth with an immovable Wysteria, X began to pick up his share of food as well. After a few minutes, they had rid all evidence of X’s mishap.The room was ruled by silence yet again, as both could tell something was going unsaid. They both tried to speak at the same time, words coming out like a jumbled mess, but the more mature X motioned for Wysteria to go first.


“...Um, don’t you want to ask me about my dad today? He did something super importan-”


“No, not today,” X said as he looked toward the ground. His expression could only be described as guilt, and relief.


“...Oh……..well will you tell me why you got hurt today,” Wysteria asked softly.


X was silent for a while, and then groaned as he took a few hobbled steps toward Wysteria. “...Remember when I told you about the ‘outside world’.” X started. “I realized you’ve never seen it.”


“I’ve seen it in a book,” Wysteria interjected while pointing to a stack of books she could barely read. Nevertheless, they had artwork that should suffice to explain the main bits. If X had the will power, he would have bonked her on the head.


“Yeah, but you’ve never seen it. I wasn’t supposed to go outside, but I went outside anyway.” X practically dragged himself to her cell while he spoke. Every alarm in his body was telling him to collapse on the ground, but he ignored them. “I saw your records. Today is supposed to be your birthday so...I got you this. B-but don’t go thinking I care or anything. I’m just helping you keep track of time.” X reached behind his back and transferred the plant from his damaged hand to his good one so he wouldn’t further worry Wysteria. When he revealed his gift, Wysteria instinctively reached out to hold it. Of course, X obliged. “It’s called a wisteria plant, just like your name. They’re a bit weird like you, and there's tons of them outside this place,” X said with a smile, amused by her reaction to a simple plant. “And if you love that, wait till you see dirt,” X continued sarcastically. When he looked up, Wysteria’s arms were outstretched through the bars and a bright smile was plastered on her face. “Um...what are you doing melon head,” X said nervously.


“It’s called a hug dumb dumb,” Wystera said rolling her eyes. Maybe X was rubbing off on her.


“That some kinda choke hold?”


“No.”


“Takedown?”


“No.”


“Hex?”


“Eren!”


“Fine, what am I supposed to do,” X finally caved.


“You’re supposed to come close and reach your arms out like this, and then we put them around each other. I read it’s what people do when they’re happy,” Wysteria said while hugging herself to demonstrate it’s mechanics.


“What if you’re not happy?”


“Then it will make you happy,” Wysteria replied, urging X to hurry up.


Hesitantly, X moved toward her cell and somehow suppressed a groan as he lifted his arms and placed them through the bars. But because of those bars, they couldn’t embrace completely and settled for having their foreheads rest inches away from each other.


“...I’m sorry, it’s s’posed to be better. These bars…”


“...It feels nice,” X said with his eyes closed, for once feeling at peace. His pain, the mission, everything seemed inconsequential. For once, it was he who couldn’t tell time. They separated after a few seconds, both failing at continuing their goofy grins.


“All better?”


“All better,” X said with a grin before using the nearby wall to prop himself up. “Time’s up,” X said as he began to drag himself to the exit.


“Don’t disappear okay Eren. You promised, remember?”


“A promise is a promise,” X said with a smile before leaving, not realizing he would break that promise.

*****​

Wysteria opened her eyes as the dust started to settle around her. She quickly realized she wasn’t crater deep into the ground. She looked down, realizing she was lying atop of X, still wrapped in his arms. That was when she realized what happened. Immediately she pushed herself off of him with her good arm as his own flopped lifelessly, outstretched on the ground. “X! Why would you do that? You would have won!,” Wysteria said as she frantically hovered over his lifeless body.


“...Would you believe me if I say...I tripped mid air,” X said without trying to move. It wasn’t like he really could do anything in this state anyway.


“X...why didn’t you kill me,” Wysteria asked with glassy eyes. X’s right arm twitched as he attempted to reach out to her. By some miracle, he was able to lift his hand a few inches off the ground before Wysteria slammed it back down. However, she looked as shocked as X after performing this action. “No, not now...WHYY! No please! X leave! You have to…………..die. Just lay there and die X.” Wysteria stood up slowly while X’s breathing remained even. His eyes, following her every movement. She picked up her blade and stood over his damaged body.


“Wysteria-,” X eyes buldged as she pierced into his abdomen. She licked her lips as if savoring the slow, agonizing death of her childhood friend while slowly churning her spear into him as he shook and shivered. Blood dribbled down his cheek from underneath his mask while X did his best to focus on anything that would help him remain conscious. Then he went still. Her eyes lingered on his lifeless body for a few seconds. Her shaking hands finally left her sword. She turned around, dropped to her knees. She began to laugh, as tears trickled down her pained face. Occasionally she would emit a horrible shriek and return to her bout of laughter. Suddenly, a shadow loomed over her body, and to her horror X was standing over her. His left hand in his pocket, and his right hand holding her bloodied weapon. All of his injuries had seemingly vanished, but he looked...sad.

“X you… you were-,”


“Dead, I know,” X said before delivering a chop to her neck, rending her unconscious.

*****​

Wysteria awoke to a starry sky, and the smell of smoked ham. She was propped up against X, who noticed that she regained consciousness. “Sleeping beauty awakes? I must say, the acid rain was a nice touch.” Wysteria, suddenly remembering what had transpired, attempted to run away; however, the gentle tug from X was enough to keep her at bay and still her nerves. “You’re pretty beat up, you should rest,” X said without looking in her direction.


“How did you know...that I would be the one to wake up,” Wysteria said as she cautiously leaned against X once more. She couldn’t help but be stiff...worried that she would be at his throat at any moment. Worried that she would once again lose control of herself, whoever that was.


“I didn’t...that’s why I kept you close. A karate chop from a distance tends to lose its luster,” X said with a blank face, imitating the very action he mentioned.


“You’re still a big meanie,” Wysteria said, managing a small but genuine smile.


“I know,” X said with a tinge of regret in his eyes.

After a few moments of listening to the lullaby of crackling fire and crickets, Wysteria had just now realized that her arm was in a sling. Moreover, she didn’t understand how X had the time to set up a tent, build a campfire, and administer first aid.


“I brought this stuff before the fight. I set it down a ways away, so it wouldn’t be destroyed. I figured things would turn out like this,” X stated as if he was reading her mind.


“Oh,” was all she could say. She couldn’t get the image of X’s apparent death out of her mind. A death that could have been caused by her own hands. “X….”


“Hmm,” X barely uttered as his muscles tightened. He already knew what she was going to say.


“You have to kill me.”


“No," X replied before she could barely finish her sentence.


“But X,” Wysteria said as she moved off his shoulder and tried to look into his eyes; however, he refused to turn around, or give a single inch.

“No.”


“I can’t hold them off forever. W-when I think about what I almost did…”


“We were sparring.” Even X didn’t believe that one.


“X I almost killed you! And...I...they liked it.”


“Can’t say I deserve more than that,” X said with a chuckle although it was unreciprocated.


“X...I’m not always going to be...well, like this. I...just end it please.”


For the first time, X spared a glance toward Wysteria before focusing on his meal. “Wysteria I,” X started before snorting in frustration. He was never good at expressing his feelings. In fact, he had made a habit of finding various ways of pushing people away just so he would have to avoid scenarios like this. He was really only good at one thing...murder. “...They’re also part of you. I won’t kill them,” X finally said, his calm face betraying the turbulence inside. It wasn’t even a fraction of 1% of how he felt, but for some reasons the words seemed to lose their way before he could speak.



“...You can’t mean that. If you don’t destroy me...they’ll do something we can’t come back from. I’ve already tried to do it myself, but they stopped me. You have to do it!”


“And for that, I am grateful to them,” X said as a smile formed beneath his mask.


Tears began to run down Wysteria's face as she pounded into X’s arm with the one good fist she had left. Despite all her might, she didn’t have enough strength to actually topple him over as she originally intended. X said nothing, realizing he was being a self-centered jerk who couldn’t even help himself. Every fiber in his body was telling him to reach out, to embrace her, just as he was taught, but he knew he didn’t have that right. Not after what he has done. So he let her tears fall on his shoulder, he let her fist express what words could not. Eventually, she would stop and cry herself to sleep.

X, carried Wysteria to her tent, afterwards, choosing to wander off deeper into the woods afterward. After deciding he had gone far enough, he placed his head against a tree, as he felt his eyes start to burn as he clenched his fists. “Not today...you don’t deserve something as alleviating as tears,” X said to himself as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, his eyes were once again dry...just as they had been since his days as a stumbling toddle. Deciding that he too needed a break, X leaned back against a tree and slid down to a seated position. He then looked at his hands, debating on just how foolish had become over the years. Eventually, he crossed his arm and slowly wrapped them around himself, pausing hesitantly ever so often, as if his own arms were wild beasts that could bite any second.


“...This feels nice,” X said with a relaxed sigh as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

FIN
I'm not crying you're crying.
​

​

 

[Coyote Hart]

​

Part III: Severence of a Longtime Friendship

Myles’ CS can be found here. Cilantro’s CS can be found here. Roux Windsor’s CS can be found here

Cilantro always looked forward to Freed. It usually entailed the circus doing a show for about two hours or so into the night, then letting everyone off to enjoy the festivities. In the streets of Strebeshti, being able to experience the cliff-built city in all its glory was amazing. And the Clubs really knew how to throw a party.

This was the first time for Cilantro that he enjoyed Freed in Hearts territory, and with the company of Myles. The circus would help keep Cilantro in check since most of them were older than him, but Myles, who was happily crunching on a candy apple, was not someone who was keeping Cilantro in line. If anything, Cilantro felt like this year would be much crazier than anything from previous years.

The sky was dark, and the stars were not visible as the glow of the city burned them out. Streetlamps were lit everywhere, and the glow of each of the open and rowdy shops made it seem like it was daytime despite the buzz of the night bugs. The smell of food wafted to Cilantro’s nostrils, a weird occurrence considering Cilantro lived by the “rise early sleep early” motto and had never associated food with the dark night sky.

For Myles though, it was all apparently very normal. Argossian teenagers always stayed up till the wee hours of the morning, he had told Cilantro.

“Holy crap, Cilantro, check out these kabobs!” Myles waved a kabob at Cilantro.

“Are you eating a candy apple with a kabob?” Cilantro asked with horror. Nonetheless, he took a kabob from the streetside cart and bit into the meat. It was sweet, tangy, and slightly spicy. However, Cilantro was concerned about how he couldn’t tell if the meat was chicken, pork, or something else.

“I mean, kabobs work well with apples,” Myles said, “Why else would there be pineapples on this?”

The two of them pushed through the crowded streets, their hands intertwined in order to prevent them from accidentally getting separated from each other.

“Oh, hey, it’s a tavern!” Cilantro pointed at a building with its doors open. Music wafted from the party that was occurring inside it, “I’ve always wanted to try some beer.”

“Well, no better time than the present!” Myles gave Cilantro a friendly push towards the tavern, “Go ahead and get something. Ask for something easier to drink.”

“You’re not coming?” Cilantro asked.

“Nah, I’m going to check out that,” Myles jerked his thumb back towards a nondescript building. The front entrance of it was filled with red-colored candles. “It’s a brothel. Probably not too good of an influence for you.”

“Alright then,” Cilantro said, “See you in an hour I guess. Have fun.”

“Oh I will,” Myles said with a wink, “You too, buddy. Don't get too drunk.”

With that, the two of them separated, with Myles heading towards the brothel and Cilantro heading inside the tavern. Inside, the band playing had the music at an almost unbearable high. The air was warm with the number of sweaty bodies dancing. Cilantro was suddenly glad that he had chosen to wear one of the numerous graphic tees that Myles had. It was much more breathable than his normal attire.

Cilantro walked up awkwardly to the bar, where he took dibs on one of the barstools. His legs didn’t reach the ground, so he sort of swung his legs back and forth like a little kid.

The bartender walked over to Cilantro and shouted over the music, “What can I get you, son?”

“Just some beer,” Cilantro shouted back, then remembering what Myles had recommended, added on, “But I'd like something easy to drink.”

“Easy to drink, eh?” the bartender said, “Well, someone as young as you probably shouldn’t be drinking, but it’s none of my business.”

Cilantro accepted the tall glass filled with amber-colored liquid from the bartender and took a tentative sip. It was sweet and fruity, and for a moment, Cilantro didn’t even know if it even was alcohol.

As he slowly sipped the juice-like beer, Cilantro watched the dancing. So many people enjoying life as it happened. Cilantro had a feeling that these people were probably not of high ranking. They probably had shitty lives. But on this one day out of the 365 days of the year, they could enjoy themselves.

Cilantro cursed at himself. Why did he think that his weakness meant he had no reason to live? Even if he was going to end up screwing up majorly in his intense training routine with Kaiden, there was still life waiting outside of the bubble that he had created for himself. The people at the dance floor, dancing to the loud music was a testament to that.

Holy shit, the music was loud. Cilantro felt his eardrums vibrating, and that didn’t seem like a good thing.

“Can I take my drink outside?” Cilantro asked the bartender

The bartender took a moment to decide but then nodded, “Yeah, why not. I’d probably end up losing that cup in a bar fight someday, so go ahead.”

Outside, the night was much more breathable. People had lit a large campfire in the middle of the street, and there was the smell of barbeque. Cilantro decided that he would check out what Myles was doing at the brothel, and if it was really a bad influence for him. As he began to walk through a detour through an alleyway to not get near the campfire, Cilantro felt the hairs of his neck stand up. His life was at risk.

He turned around, and at the exact same moment, a red fire axe was whizzing through the air towards Cilantro. In a panic, Cilantro concentrated his chi, and the ax bounced off of his shoulder harmlessly. Cilantro felt a moment of surprise. It was the first time that he was able to deflect something with his chi.

“What the--?” Cilantro asked with confusion.

“Heya,” his attacker pointed the fire ax at Cilantro, “What’s popping?”

This moment allowed Cilantro to get a good look at his assailant. He seemed to be no older than 19 and had dark brown hair and ferocious yellow eyes. His lower-face was hidden by a face mask. Based on the denim pants, button-up shirt, and graphic t-shirt, Cilantro guessed that this man was probably an Argossian.

“Hey, can we please talk this out?” Cilantro said, dropping his beer to the ground. He was not expecting to be fighting today.

“Yeah, why not, let me just stop murdering you so we can have a heart-to-heart,” his assailant said with saccharine sarcasm, “No, of course not, mage scum!”

The Argossian swung his axe again at Cilantro, and this time, he caught a tingle of electricity. Was the ax enchanted?

Cilantro dodged out of the way of the axe. With one swift move of his arm, Cilantro threw four of his darts at the Argossian, however, the man just raised his forearms and let the darts sink in harmlessly. It looked like the Argossian had a forearm guard or something on.

“Face it, you’re outmatched!” the Argossian said as he advanced on Cilantro.

Cilantro threw a few more darts at the Argossian, but the ones aimed at his upper body were promptly blocked by his forearms. The ones aimed for his legs hit its mark, but it didn’t stop the Argossian’s advance. Damnit. It seemed that the Argossian was also wearing armor underneath his pants. Since he couldn’t actually see it, Cilantro was having a hard time finding where the gaps were.

Suddenly, a line of bullet fire separated Cilantro from the Argossian. Both the Argossian and Cilantro stopped to look up, and when he did, he saw the figure of Myles, his two SMGs drawn. The tail of his uniform flapped in the gentle night breeze.

"Roux Windsor, how unfortunate that we meet in such unfortunate circumstances!" Myles said with dramatic bravado from on top of a building, "How pitiful that you still don't see mages as people and still commit such malfeasance even after the war's end! You should be ashamed of yourself. You say that you have an interest in magic yet you don’t even consider those who practice it as people?"

"I will not allow you to harm my friends evermore," Myles said, "Now, give me all you've got! We settle this here and now!"

With that, Myles hopped down from on top of the building, his gun pointed at the man named Roux. He quickly headed over to Cilantro and enveloped the boy in a protective hug, the gun trained on Roux all the while. Cilantro didn’t realize he was shaking until Myles’ steady body touched his.

“You know this guy?” Cilantro asked Myles.

“Yeah, you could say that I used to be his best friend,” Myles said.

“Mmhm, used to be,” Roux emphasized with a grin, “It’s quite a shame that you’ve forgotten your Argossian duty, Myles.”

“No, those Argossian duties were just there to oppress us,” Myles said, “And then when we got angry at being oppressed, we’d pass it on to some unfortunate chum like the mages. Like what you’re doing.”

“You and I both know that we don’t follow that way of Argossian thinking,” Roux said, “But where did your sense of fight go? These mages aren’t people! You gotta have some fun and squish them like bugs!”

Myles’ face was overcast with shadow, and Cilantro felt that he had never seen Myles so angry.

“Didn’t you want to learn magic?!” Myles shouted, “Doesn’t that make you the same as the mages? Can you say that you aren’t a proper person?!”

“Me? Learn magic?” Roux scoffed, “You know that’s an impossible task. No, I just get mages to enchant something for me. They’re like machines! Can you really say that machines are sentient beings?”

“I can’t believe this is the person I spent five years of my life as friends with,” Myles said. He gently pushed Cilantro back and walked forward to face Roux, “That’s it. You truly are lost. I will have the honor of taking you down. Come at me!”

“What a shame,” Roux said, “I would’ve liked one last cup of your amazing coffee before you died. Oh well!”

Roux launched himself at Myles, swinging his axe. Cilantro noticed that the axe was glowing yellow and sizzling with electricity. Fortunately, Myles hopped swiftly backward to avoid the blade. Myles fired a rain of bullets at Roux in retaliation, but these were all absorbed by Roux’s forearm guard.

Myles skitted a few steps away, all the while firing bullets at Roux. Roux, who visibly didn’t have any ranged tricks, was forced to push his way forward to try to take Myles on physically. Myles though, wasn’t going to let Roux get close. He steadily moved backward to not allow Roux to get in front, all the while firing mercilessly. When he hit a wall, he simply hopped up it, and with a leap that made Cilantro feel jealous, landed behind Roux.

Roux’s reaction time was fast, but it wasn’t much faster than the bullets. He whirled around in time to catch most of the bullets from Myles’ gun except for a few that scraped by his face.

“You’re just as powerful as I remember,” Roux said ruefully, “Looks like I’ll need to try harder.”

Roux leaped once again at Myles, but this time, a gust of wind acted like a magnet, pulling Myles forcibly towards Roux. Cilantro caught sight of a green glow emerging from Roux’s axe, and he knew that the axe was most definitely enchanted.

Myles gritted his teeth and dropped his SMG to engage Roux at close quarters. With a swift flick of his arm, Myles drew his bastard sword and used it to block Roux’s axe. However, when he did, Roux smirked, and his axe glowed yellow. Electricity ran up Myles’ sword and caused him to scream and drop his sword in agony.

Roux followed up on his advantage to deliver a kick to Myles’ chest, which sent him reeling backwards. Myles attempted to disengage, but Roux moved forward with a gust of wind and put Myles into a headlock, then slammed him onto the ground.

“Myles, Myles,” Roux said as he pointed his axe at the dazed Myles, “I’m sad to see that the man that I knew is gone. Instead, he’s been replaced with a complacent bastard who’s willing to protect pieces of shit like the mages.”

Myles began to attempt to get up, but Roux simply slammed a foot down on Myles’ chest, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Well, unfortunately, the plot of this world goes forward no matter who you may be,” Roux pointed his axe at Myles, “And that unfortunately means that I’mma gonna have to say goodbye to you, Myles.”

Cilantro, who had simply watched the fight, realized with a jolt that if he didn’t make a move now, Myles would die. He didn’t have the strength that Myles had, nor the expertise with the gun, but he did have his darts and his accuracy. And Roux’s back was turned on Cilantro.

In less than a blink of an eye, four darts had lodged themselves into Roux’s neck-- the one place that Cilantro could see that was exposed. Roux shouted with pain, then reached up to his neck, although he didn’t remove the darts. Smart. If he had, he might’ve bled out right there and then.

“What the hell?” Roux turned on Cilantro, “I was going to leave you until later, but if you’re so insistent on dying, be my guest!”

That moment of Roux turning around to face Cilantro was all Myles needed. He drew a handgun from his waist, and with burning eyes, shot Roux in the head.

Roux ragdolled onto the ground, and Myles stood up shakily. Cilantro moved to Myles’ side and looked down at Roux. “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” Myles looked down at Roux’s body with what seemed to be a combination of remorse and anger, “Go burn in hell, old friend.”

Roux’s dead body didn’t respond. Cilantro looked back and forth between the dead Argossian and Myles. He had never seen Myles display any other emotion than his cheerful enthusiasm. The boiling anger Cilantro saw on Myles’ face… was concerning. It was almost as if Myles was wearing a mask, and this was him without it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Myles said, patting Cilantro on the head, “Thank you for helping me out.”

As the two of them left the alleyway, Cilantro tentatively asked Myles, “How did you know I was in trouble?”

“Oh, I just got shy and left the brothel. Pure concidence,” Myles said, his cheerful mask returning, “It totally wasn’t because I’m a closeted homosexual and I was scared to ask for a man to service me.”

“Oh…” Cilantro said.

They went on with the festivities for the rest of the night, and Myles acted like the encounter with Roux never existed. But the image of Myles’ angry vestige never left Cilantro’s mind. If Myles was actually putting on a mask of cheerfulness, Cilantro wondered if he could put on a mask of confidence. Perhaps rather than overcoming his cravenness, Cilantro could simply pretend to.

Cilantro decided that one day in the future, he would ask Myles about his mask, as well as Roux.

 

[. D O V E]

A Question of Spirit
Amidst the frozen wasteland, a forbidden secret bloomed. Kloudy ​

A cold breeze drifted by, chips and fragments of ice skipping across the smooth translucent surface.

The sun was high in the sky, partially covered by a murky cloud bank that threatened to swallow it whole. For miles in any direction was a white, desolate landscape. The few trees that stood in haphazard array stood stoically, frozen with each leaf in the position it had been that very same day. The layer of ice that covered everything in sight but the sky never wavered. It never melted. It never surrendered to the sun. There were pillars that jutted from the ground like obelisks, humming with icy energy.

The Crystal Marking, a monument to his christening as an Ace.

In the centre sat a short black-haired boy. The boy was actually in his late twenties, his appearance seemingly ageless due to a genetic mutation. Subhuman was the correct word for it. Previously he had been too respected for anyone to make slights at his race. These days he was too feared for anyone to dare to try.

From afar, Guin stared at the forlorn figure. Flashes of his onslaught on the city of Valencia played in her mind. The nauseating amount of mana, the cold breeze against her skin, the raging hailstorm, and the cries of her soldiers as they fell to their frosted demise; they were all too vivid. It has been a year since then yet she could still recall every detail as if it only happened yesterday.

She found William Code terrifying then.

But now, as she looked at him sitting by himself, like a lonely raven perched amidst the winter blanket, he felt like the complete opposite- fragile.

With a deep breath, the Queen dug her gloved hands into the pockets of her mink fur coat. King Dornwell informed her that the Ace of Diamonds wasn’t in control of his mind when it happened, and that he was genuinely remorseful for what he had done. It would be best if she trudged carefully.

Figuratively, at least. Guin had no intention of plowing through the thick snow or slipping on one of the icy surfaces with her feet. With that in mind, the Queen disappeared from her position, reappearing a few steps in front of the meditating Ace.

“Greetings, Ace of Diamonds.”

William didn't look up to meet her gaze, maintaining his brooding expression as he stared into the endless ice ahead.

"Queen Blanca. I did not think you wished to see me." His tone was as curt and formal as usual, if not a little more hollow.

“That makes the two of us.” She replied with a shrug. “When I saw you back then, hovering hundreds of feet in the air and unleashing chaos upon my city, I promised myself I’d have your head the next time I see you.” There wasn’t any ill-intent in her voice, only honesty.

His eyes now rose to meet hers, neutral and impassive.

"And is that why you are here?" There was no sarcasm or humour in his voice.

Guin stifled a laugh at this. “No, I don’t really intend to die today.” She wasn’t stupid. She knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against William alone. “I guess you could say I had a change of heart.”

William arched an eyebrow, about as close as he would get to laughing at the Queen's pun. Off in the distance, some of the frozen monoliths rotated slowly and aimlessly on the spot.

"You want something from me." A statement rather than a question, spoken flatly and without enthusiasm. William truly did look quite tired since the events of a year ago.

Guin let her eyes stay on him for a few moments. They’ve barely spoken to each other before all of these yet she felt like she had seen different sides of him.

“I do.” She confirmed. “But that’s not the only reason why I’m here.”

William's brow creased in a frown and he seemed to regain some energy, his tone gaining that familiar military bluntness, "Then get to the point. I'm not fond of wasting time with small talk."

Guin raised her hands slightly, as if she was caught red-handed, while her lips suppressed a smile.

“Very well. I’d like to ask for your help in opening a portal to the spirit realm.”

William fixed Guin with a hard stare of disbelief, his frown deepening as he turned over what she had just said to him in his mind. What she was asking for did not only sound fairly impossible, but also really difficult and dangerous. It also sounded highly illegal.

"You want me to open a gateway to the Realm of the Dead. Do you even know what you're asking me?" His tone remained measured and even, but he could not, or chose not to, hide the note of incredulousness.

“Yes, I do. I am absurdly desperate.” The Queen replied, unashamed. William’s knowledge regarding the realm must’ve meant that Arimand disclosed what transpired while he was unconscious.

She fidgeted with the insides of her pockets, eyes averting from William’s. “Did King Dornwell not tell you anything? About what happened after the war?”

William shook his head, his brooding aloof expression returning, “No. What’s more my memory of that day is gone.”

The short ice mage stood up now, turning away to gaze into the bleak distance. He raised a palm and a small figurine made of ice formed. It seemed to look around, unsure of its surroundings. William was aware of what the Spirit Realm was from his interest in historical records of the past, but he certainly did not believe in it having a connection to anything godly. He believed it to simply be another space in reality in which spirits reside after death.

“All I remember is waking to accusations of villainy.” Even the Great Crystal Ace could not hide the tinge of bitterness in his tone.

Guin was taken aback by this. She thought King Dornwell would at least inform William of what truly happened. It seemed like he was completely in the dark about everything. A small part of her couldn’t help but sympathize with the man. He had fallen so low all because he was used. She had always found it repulsing how the gods played them like unfeeling pieces to their games.

“I’m not sure why King Dornwell kept it from you, but I can tell you the truth. That is, if you’d like to hear it.” She offered, a touch of gentleness present in her voice.

"Maybe it's best if I didn't…" He seemed to consider this for a moment, his frown deepening, "But that is for another time."

His hand crushed the ice statue to shards and William turned around to face Guin with that piercing stormy blue gaze of his.

"You are asking the impossible of me. My abilities cannot traverse realms and magicks regarding the dead are outlawed. Have I not disgraced myself enough?" The question almost wasn't rhetorical, like he actually wanted to know if he could stoop any lower than he had already been accused of.

However, instead of being intimidated, Guin dared to take a step forward. There was the fire of determination smoldering behind her red eyes- a great contrast to the man’s icy ones.

“No, you’re wrong.” She threw her hands to the side, the movement sharp and full of conviction. “King Dornwell died in the fields of Valencia. You, William, asked me to bring him back to life,” she pressed a palm over her heart, “and I did.”

William nearly didn’t react, confusion written all over his normally composed features, “I don’t understand. I was told that I laid waste to the battlefield. What do you mean you brought him back to life?”

“The King overspent himself fighting.” Much like what the Ace did earlier, the Queen opened her palms and conjured mini figures out of mana. The first one appeared to be a man, who could safely be assumed as Arimand, wielding a sword. In front of him was a contraption about thrice his size, a relatively tiny replica of the War Engine. The King raised his sword to the warcraft, a beam shooting out of its tip and colliding with the tank. As though to emulate destruction, the mini War Engine slowly dissipated and the King collapsed to the ground once it completely vanished. “He died from mana sickness.”

In a heartbeat, the figure shifted into that of a female. She seemed to be in the middle of a fight as a few dummies of Argossian soldiers hailed bullets in her direction. However, before she could even dodge the projectiles, they suddenly stopped. Everything, except for the woman, remained frozen.

“I was warding off the last of the invaders when…,” she trailed off as her eyes rose to his, “you appeared.” On cue, a pseudo-portal opened before the tiny woman and from it emerged an equally tiny figure of a man.

“I don’t understand.” William repeated, watching the scene unfold with a squint, “So I froze time and came to you? I was told that Quillion Downs defeated me after my rampage, after which I remained unconscious.”

“No,” she shook her head, “It was a you from another dimension…”

And with that, the Queen continued retelling what happened during the war’s aftermath. The Ace’s favor, the King’s revival, and everything else that occurred in between- Guin shared every detail with William.

“So now you understand, William Code. The two of us are capable of doing the impossible.” She could bring back the dead; he could traverse through timelines. “Please, if we work together, we can open the portal.”

William scowled as he took it all in. It all seemed too unreal to believe. But in the state he was now, left adrift after the war with no recollection as to his own actions, William wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to believe anymore. So a version of himself had managed to achieve actual time travel in the future and came back to the past? If that were the case, and this future version of himself wanted Guin for something, then was it right for him to go along with his own future plan? He rubbed his temples with a short groan. This was all getting rather convoluted.

“But why should I help you open this gateway? How could all this unlawful magic be of any use to our kingdoms?” Despite what had happened, William was still thinking like an Ace. Serving the kingdom and its people came first and breaking the law did not help that. He did not particularly care for the immorality of it all, simply wishing only to follow what tattered sense of honour he had left. William had never broken the law before, it felt like failure.

“I want to save our people.” Guin truthfully answered. “William, you were used by a higher being- a god- who wants to get rid of all mages. Thousands of our kindreds met dishonorable deaths all because someone, way more powerful than any of us, decided we were better off eradicated. As if we’re nothing but nameless flowers, to be trampled and picked for their own pleasure.” She could feel her anger rising again. They deserved so much better.

“Someone once told me mortals do not get a choice on who gets sacrificed.” Those were Olivii’s words as they discussed the gods. “I wish to disagree but I know those words ring true. Neither of us could stop a god from massacring our people nor can we stop them from doing the same in the future, but if we can bring our people back… then that will be enough.” If she could get to the realm of the dead then she might be able to learn more about the spirits. And then, she’d finally be able to reclaim every soul who met an unjust demise.

“I know it’s a shot in the dark, William, but I swore to protect my people no matter the cost. I can’t let them perish.” Leolin, Twig, and all her other friends- she wouldn’t let anyone or anything take them from her. “Please, I have nobody else to turn to.”

William turned away now, gazing back off into the distance. The sun was cresting the horizon. Despite his icy disposition, William actually quite liked watching the sun rise at dawn. He could not feel the cold but he could feel warmth. There was something comforting in that thought, that sometimes he did not have to be a large cog in what needed to be a perfect machine. He went to touch his hip out of habit, only then remembering that he had lost his Chaos Skulls at the Battle of Valencia. William frowned at the thought that somewhere out there, someone could be using it to commit nefarious deeds.

"Fine."

The Ace turned back to Guin with a look of his old sharp determination on his face, "I will help you, but on one condition." His eyes took on an indomitable intensity.

"You will share anything regarding this to no one. Not even those you trust most dearly." William held her gaze, analysing her reaction for any trace of deceit.

The Queen’s features instantly brightened with relief. “I swear on my honor I will not speak a word about this.” She assured before pressing a fist over her heart. The gesture meant one thing in her kingdom- respect. This marked Guin’s second promise with William, and just like the first, she fully intended to keep it.

“Thank you, Ace William Code. I know you’re not doing this for me, but this means a lot.” She wished she could thank the William from several futures too. He gave her the happiest moment of her life ever since the tragedy, regardless how fleeting.

William huffed and turned away again, crossing his arms, “Then we should get to work. Tell me what you know of the Realm of the Dead…”

 

[Coyote Hart]

​

Part IV: Birthdays and Lok Klang New Year

Myles’ CS can be found here. Cilantro’s CS can be found here. Roux’s CS can be found here. Lyndsay does not have a CS, as she was made for a spin-off series located in the Spades kingdom, but this was never achieved.

It was a year ago when Myles’ fate was sealed.

It was a sunny late summer afternoon in eastern Argossia and the coffee shop that Myles worked in was bustling full of people. Fantastic. It meant that Myles could get more tips and then perhaps afford the new manga at the cornerstore.

A ring of the bell attached to the front door caused Myles to look up from the coffee grinder to greet the new customers.

“Welcome!” Myles said with his well-practiced service smile, but this turned into a more genuine grin when he saw who the two customers were, “Oh hey! Feel free to take a seat wherever you want.”

“Busy day, eh?” Roux said as he took off his baseball cap and shook his hair free from the constraints of the hat, “I almost feel guilty about intruding.”

“Hah! Don’t listen to him, Myles,” Lyndsay said as she made her way to one of the open tables, “He was shaking from caffeine deprivation all the way over here. I had to drive since I was scared he’d jutter into the other lane.”

“What?” Roux put on a sweetly clueless face, “What are you talking about?”

“Okay nerd, pretend you don’t know,” Lyndsay said.

“Hey, you’re the nerd here!” Roux said in indignation.

Myles chuckled as he waited with tiny cups below the espresso machine. At this point, Roux and Lyndsay were such frequent customers that Myles knew by memory what their favorite drinks were. Red eye for Roux and iced caramel frappuccino for Lyndsay.

“Hey, Myles, those are your pals, right?” asked Randal, the manager on duty, “Go ahead and take ten. Go hang out with them.”

Myles frowned, although he was already making another espresso for himself, “Are you sure? It seems really busy.”

Randal waved off Myles’ concern, “Nah, go ahead and take a break.”

Without another word of protest, Myles went and sat down with Lyndsay and Roux, his three drinks in hand. Roux almost snatched the cup of red eye out of Myles’ hands as he took a deep gulp.

“Oh man,” Roux shook his head in satisfaction, “I don’t know what I’d do without your coffee, man.”

“It’s actually pretty easy,” Myles said, “Just get some instant espresso and a french press, and you can make your own at home.”

“Nah, I’d rather come here,” Roux replied, “You probably can make coffee infinite times better than me.”

“We do have something important to tell you though--” Lyndsay began before Roux covered her mouth with a hand.

“Shush! I’ll say it!” Roux said. He took a deep breath of air and announced, “We’re all going off to war!”

“What?” Myles said, “But I’m only sixteen!”

“Not an issue,” Roux said as he reached into his pocket. He plopped down a small booklet onto the table, and Myles picked it up, flipping open to the first page. It was a false passport, identifying Myles as being 18 years of age.

“Wait, what is going on?” Myles said, absolutely confused.

“I’m giving you an opportunity to let off some steam and bash the heads in of some mage scum!” Roux said as if he had provided the best birthday present in the world.

“But I don’t---” Myles began. Lyndsay, not lifting her head from her frappuccino, gave Myles a glare of warning, and Myles fell silent.

Lyndsay knew that Myles was not a fan of senseless violence, but Myles also couldn’t explicitly say that in front of Roux. There was too much of a chance that someone nearby, or even Roux himself, misinterpret it as Myles being a mage sympathizer and report him for treason.

Myles disliked society. It put too much of an emphasis on strength and the ‘fact’ that you need strength. In this spartan world, you need to be stronger than the person sitting next to you. And if you weren’t? Then you’d be second-class dogshit. How do you prove that you’re strong? Through violence and death.

“So, how about before we go off to battle, we relish everything this city has to offer?” Roux asked.

“I’ve got a bit of spare cash,” Lyndsay said, “What’chu say we hit up the arcade?”

“Yeah, definitely, I’ll join you after my shift is over,” Myles said with a fake smile. He got up and stretched, “Well, it looks as if my break is about to be over. I’ll see y’all in a bit.”

Myles’ break wasn’t over, to be frank. It was just that he felt so uncomfortable that he needed an out to the conversation.

~~~
BG Theme​

It was probably sometime close to midnight, and Cilantro couldn’t sleep. Myles, who shared the same room with him, had vanished an hour or so ago, and Cilantro couldn’t help but feel worried. He tossed and turned in the straw bed, and finally, he decided that he might need to take a walk.

Cilantro rose from the bed and reached over to grab the oil lantern that he kept beside the bed. He laid his finger on the wick of the lantern, and with a small boost of mana, the room was visible with the light from the lantern. The room that he and Myles shared was modest, with unpainted stone brick walls and cheap wood flooring. On each side of the room were a few pieces of furniture, a desk, and a bed for each of the two people. Myles also brought in a bookshelf full of books that Cilantro couldn’t read (which he called manga), and brightened the room with bright posters of drawn girls in very concerning positions.

The hallways of the Joker base were uncharacteristically silent during the night. The distant thumps of firearm manufacturing were missing, the cheerful banter and chatter were peacefully absent. The majority of the wall-mounted oil lamps were snuffed, but there were a few to light up the stone walls and prevent any intruder from being undiscovered.

Cilantro climbed the stairs that led to the nondescript guard tower in the Heart territory, and when he emerged from it, the smell of fresh night air awaited him.

Across the grassy hill, Cilantro saw the faint orange glow of what looked to be a large paper lantern. Myles stood beside it, a paintbrush in his hand as he carefully wrote something on the lantern. When Myles took a step back to admire his work, Cilantro saw that it was a single hieroglyphic character.

Then, Myles reached the lantern up into the air and cut what looked like a beanbag that was holding it down. The lantern climbed up into the night sky, where it got smaller and smaller before it was almost out of sight. Myles sat down on the lawn, a melancholy little smile on his face.

Cilantro looked at Myles for a few moments, then decided to turn back and leave. It was evident that he was seeing something that was deeply personal. But as he was about to turn around, Myles dipped his head towards Cilantro and waved.

“Hey, don’t be shy,” Myles said, “Why don’chu join me out here?”

Cilantro’s feet hesitated for a moment before he joined Myles at the hill. For a moment, the two of them watched the lantern, which was becoming smaller and smaller of a dot in the sky. Then Myles spoke.

“Today is what is called Lok Klang New Year,” Myles said, “It’s a very special day for Eastern Argossians like me. We used to use a different calendar, and our New Year is on a different day than y’all, so if you look at it from y’all’s calendar, it changes every year. We have a tradition where we set off lanterns into the sky at midnight. Some do it to send off their wishes for the New Year to the gods, others do it to ward off bad energy, some people, like me, do it to commemorate the lives of those who passed on the past year. Like Roux.”

“Roux…” Cilantro said. He remembered the snarky Argossian that had attacked him two months ago, “Did you know him well?”

“Yes, perhaps you can say he was my best friend,” Myles said, “I knew him for quite a long time… but I still had to kill him. He didn’t understand how life is more important than proving that he’s strong.”

Cilantro kept quiet as Myles spoke. There it was again. A sign that Myles’ mask was slipping off, exposing the raw underside of whoever he truly was.

“Why was he so fixated on proving his strength?” Myles lamented, “Why couldn’t he see that lives of mages and Argossians have the same value or at least the same potential of value? When you kill someone to show your strength and dominance, you sever that potential! Non! Nix! Gone! All that magnificence that makes someone alive is gone, forever. Nobody lives on after death. It’s why I hate the Ace Trials so much, and why I hate the emphasis violence has on how high of standing you have! Violence means death! So, Cilantro,”

Unexpectedly, Myles turned to Cilantro and jabbed a finger angrily at his chest, “Don’t you dare die on me. I want to see all the potential in you bloom like the wings of the phoenix, not die down and get smothered!”

Cilantro recoiled with shock, his eyes wide with surprise. Myles was right, Cilantro knew it. The True Queen saw his potential and decided to let him stay alive. Kaiden was helping Cilantro see how much strength he truly had inside him. But Cilantro couldn’t say anything other than a shocked little, “Ok.”

Myles sighed and rested his hand down, “Sorry about that.”

“No… it’s okay,” Cilantro gulped, and then asked, “It makes me wonder though… Myles, who are you, really? It feels like you're hiding underneath a mask.”

“I’m the Great Myles Rein, that’s who! I would’ve thought you’d know after a year of being together!” Myles said with false bravado. Cilantro gave Myles a withering look, and Myles deflated like a balloon, “Alright, fine, I suppose I can’t hide in the acting forever.”

“I’m sad, Cilantro,” Myles said, “I’m sad that the world is so violent. In Argossia, strength is what keeps you at the top. I never wanted the strength to kill someone, but it was necessary to have good standing in society. When I went over here to the Suits, I thought that it would be a utopia where everyone shared their magic. But no. The one with the most destructive magic is the one on top. What kind of batshit is that? That’s why I am a Joker. I want a gentler world. It’s why I find you so important, Cilantro. You don’t want to be strong, you want to stop being weak.”

“So, really, below this fucking mask is a miserable sod of a boy, bitter at the world around him,” Myles said.

Cilantro listened to Myles’ words, seeing a reflection of his own shattered life in them. Cilantro had been created solely to be strong, to push the boundaries between a two and an Ace. It was a damn shame that the world had to be harsh enough for something like that to be warranted. However, Cilantro had one burning question for Myles.

“How does your mask look so natural?” Cilantro asked.

“Well, I took acting in high school with Roux,” Myles looked up at the dot in the sky that was his lantern, “Acting is all about honesty, not deception. You want to truly embody the emotion you’re trying to act out. If you want to act confident, you have to convince yourself that you are confident. If you want to act brave, you have to make those gutsy, daredevil decisions and leave no room for those rational thoughts of doubt in your mind.”

Convincing oneself… Cilantro wondered if he could try to embody those emotions. Perhaps he could find strength and courage through pretending to have them. He decided that he would try to learn from Myles once his training was all done for. Despite being pathetic deep down, he could pose as someone as capable and strong as Myles seemed.

“Ah, enough about me, let’s talk you,” Myles said, an impish grin appearing on his face, “I know your secret!”

“Secret?” Cilantro asked.

“It’s your birthday!” Myles exclaimed, “Happy sixteen years, Cilantro!”

“Wha-- how?” Cilantro stuttered. He never remembered telling Myles his birthday. In fact, very few people actually knew Cilantro’s birthday. He was very certain that Miss Taylor and the rest of the circus were the only ones who knew his birthday.

“A man’s got his ways,” Myles stuck out his tongue teasingly with a wink, “I’ve gotta be good at some sort of ‘magic’ amirite?”

Before Cilantro was able to say anything, Myles procured a coffee cake and a french press full of coffee out of thin air with a crack of a flourish.

“What do you say we celebrate with some coffee and cake?” Myles asked.

“Isn’t it a bit late in the night?” Cilantro replied.

“Nah, I’m doing a night vigil,” Myles said, “For my good friend Roux.”

“I guess I’ll join you then,” Cilantro decided.

“Fantastic,” Myles exclaimed. He procured two cups and saucers out of thin air and poured the two of them cups of coffee and cut them slices of the coffee cake. Myles quickly mixed a bit of milk and honey into Cilantro’s cup to create the consistency that Cilantro liked the most.

Cilantro took a long sip of the sweet coffee. It radiated warmth to Cilantro’s toes and fingers, driving off the cold of the spring night air.

Myles took a long draft of his black coffee, sighing in appreciation. He slipped a hand into the pockets of his hoodie and took out a small packaged box, “I don’t know about mage traditions, but for Argossians, it’s customary to give the birthday boy a gift. So take this, and remember me whenever you use it.”

Cilantro took the box from Myles and unwrapped what looked like a dart. While on the surface it didn’t look much different than the hundreds of darts Cilantro had, when he picked it up, he noticed an immense difference. It was heavier than the other darts that Cilantro used, in a good way. It was still perfectly balanced, but it was obvious by the bluish glint of the blade, sturdy material, and immaculate fletching that this dart was of much higher quality than anything Cilantro had once owned.

Myles watched Cilantro’s expression as he unboxed the dart, and he provided a quick explanation, “It’s made of quality Woodheart Village lumber, Argossian steel, and the fletching is made of something called plastic. Plastic is much more durable than feathers ever are. I also paid someone to enchant it to return to you in case you lose it. If I end up dying at some point, use it to remember me.”

“What’s this talk about dying?” Cilantro asked.

“Well, I don’t intend on dying anytime soon,” Myles chuckled, “But you have to promise me, Cilantro, you won’t die either. Believe it or not, you are really important to me. You’re my best friend if I can be bold enough to say that.”

Cilantro felt his cheeks flush, but despite that, he nodded. Ever since Myles entered his life, Cilantro felt like he had become a new man. It was Myles who saved him from the Spades, who provided companionship when he was lonely. He was the first person who made Cilantro feel alive and appreciated, without all the carefulness that the circus had exhibited, as if they were all stepping on shards of glass. Myles also seemed to have similar demons haunting him as Cilantro did. While Myles liked Cilantro’s weakness, Cilantro looked up to Myles’s confidence and bravado. They were well-suited for each other, and Cilantro knew he could call Myles his best friend as well.

"Of course," Cilantro replied, "Best friends."

“Great!” Myles smiled, “I don’t have any potstickers for the new year, but how about we drink to each other’s health?”

Myles raised his cup of coffee, and Cilantro followed suit. The chink of coffee cups tapping against each other solidified the unbreakable bond that the two Jokers shared.

 

[AI10100]

GUNS FT. DUMB AND DUMBER​

If you had asked Declan that he would be working so closely with multiple royals when he was a kid, he would have laughed in your face before asking what kind of food did they offer to him that made him work with stupid royals. And even ask how he was even considered to work for the top brass - a street rat like him would never step foot in the upper district without getting thrown out by the guard.

And yet here he was, sitting on a table, munching on some pastry that he didn't know the name of, waiting for the King of Clubs Xixix Valentine to come. But he was coming as a Joker and not a royal, so formality was the last thing in Declan's mind. Besides, what would he do if there was disrespect? Put Declan in jail? The thought was as hilarious as people expecting anyone that a Joker would stay in jail without either being broken out or killing themselves to prevent the spread of information.

He grabbed another pastry as he looked over the disassembled guns strewn on the ground that was their topic of the day. Maybe he should get another plate of pastries or whatever food was in the kitchens before the king comes. But at the same time, leaving the guns wasn't exactly the best option either. He took another bite and got comfortable on the table.

X, meanwhile, had left early that day, to somehow amend his growing reputation of always being late, or not showing up at all. The only problem was….he had been walking for nearly 30 minutes. He pulled out the card that one of his fellow jokers had given him, wondering why the directions led him to the downstairs bathroom of his estate. “Ohhh, no wonder...this is the wrong card,” X said as he stuffed that card back into his pocket. He then glanced around the area to make sure no one was around, and then pulled a card from out of his mask that simply said...use the mirror.

It didn’t take long before he entered the hideout and found D..Dullahan? Dillion...DeFlan...no matter. What was important was that he found the guy who was supposed to be good with guns. X normally wouldn’t have thought to use such weapons; however, they could be a great boost for his abilities as well as his fighting style as the mysterious Zero...codename pending.

“Yo,” X said with a casual wave as he entered the workshop. “Vincent right? They told me you could, oooh pastries,” X said as he reached for some of Declan’s enticing pastries.

Declan looked up as X appeared from the mirror and gave the man a lopsided grin at the missed name. "Declan, actually." He responded easily before gesturing for him to take a pastry. He didn't mind. It wasn't like the pastries could somehow tamper with the guns anyway.

"Bet you there are more pastries in the Hearts kitchen." He mused idly as he hopped off of the table and moved towards the disassembled handgun. "Took you a while to get here. Got lost in the mirror maze?" He asked jokingly, turning to the masked royal with a tilt of his head. He loved Samael's mirrors and it made transportation way easier than before, which consisted of rushing around on horses and carriages and taking days before getting to a city. Now, it was only two seconds before you're in your desired location.

“We’ll have to be sure to raid the kitchen,” X said as he took a pastry and stuffed it in his pocket for later since eating with a mask was too much trouble at the moment. His eyes wandered about the workshop, his eyes deciding to rest on the handgun that was disassembled. He snapped back to reality when Declan asked if he had gotten lost. “No, the mirror maze was fine, I got lost on my way to the bathroom,” X said flatly as he leaned over as he stroked an imaginary beard as if pondering something important about the gun...but in reality.

“Hey Decaf, has Guindeldore spoke of me any,” X said without turning to Declan. “Also, do you think you could speak up? I’m having a hard time hearing you.”

Declan grinned. "You read my mind. Let's raid the kitchen later." It was nice to finally meet a like minded person. He took the final bite on his pastry. "Shame. Got the jitters at the last minute? Bathroom's on third mirror to the right, go down four doors and it's the next one to the left." He responded nonchalantly as if the instruction wasn't confusing. Though it only took him two times of plunging into a different mirror only to realize that he entered the wrong one to memorize which mirror went where. Samael's mirror guides did help a lot.

His head snapped back up to X as he questioned about Guindeldore. Or, who he assumed was Guin. Guin never told him about a new suitor and he never really heard his name tossed around before. He had only heard about X after he joined the Jokers and even then, it was a few more months before he heard of X's true identity.

His next statement caught Declan off guard. He was directly projecting into his mind - X should definitely hear him loud and clear. But- "Is this fine now?" He asked, moving his mouth to make the words and increasing the relative volume of his telepathy. "The room's small so I don't modulate here. Anyway, she's spoken of you in passing." He vaguely responded as he knelt down in preparation for the explanations.

“Hmm, still feels like I’m talking to myself. Oh well...,” X shrugged, not realizing this was due to telepathic communication. Declan moving his lips had served to make him believe he was still actually communicating...somehow. He then leaned in even closer to observe the guns. “That Guindeldore’s been such a tease ever since that one night stand (He could have sworn there was an actual night stand in the room that day.) Enough to drive a man mad...”

X finally stood up straight after giving up on attempting to comprehend the strange weapon. That’s why he was here after all, and as luck would have it, the man before him seemed lack the stick that had found its way into certain cavities of his peers. “4th mirror to the left and 2 doors down got it,” X repeated incorrectly with an odd display of assurance to go along with it. “Anyway, are these the pew pews I’ve heard so much about, not to be confused with the bang bangs and they ratatat tats,” X asked straight faced while half heartedly making different shooting motions with his hands.

Declan wasn't surprised with X's statements. He wasn't one to judge on the actions of others when he had done many desperate acts when he was young. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time he's heard of Guin's seductiveness - though he will admit that he cannot see it for the life of him. Sure, Guin was beautiful but seductive? Well, whatever. It wasn't Declan's business until Guin tells him it is. "You should bring that up with her, not me. She's not very open about her… shall we say, personal relationships." Him barging into her private quarters aside, of course.

He didn't bother correcting the odd king with his directions. He'll find it eventually if he really needs it. Declan tilted his head at the recreation of the guns and he grinned. "Yes sir. They're a lot more commonplace but there are different types of pew pews. This one is a much weaker but faster pew pew." He reached to his side and took out an intact version. He pointed it to the side where a couple of targets are and released a couple of bullets. "It has a lot of bullets in it. Unlike the stronger pew pews that are slower but pack a lot more punch." He holstered his handgun and took out a revolver. He aimed, shot and from the sheer recoil, it was obvious which one put out the most force.

"Do you prefer one or the other or should I teach you both?"

X was confused as to why Declan would not want to speak about night stands. Lovely inventions that gave the room personality. Perhaps Declan had a fear of furniture, after all, stubbed toe could scar a man for life after. X simply shrugged his shoulders, deciding to respect his wishes. More importantly, he would have to stave off Guin’s obvious advances since he wasn’t ready for a mirror distance relationship.

Back to the matter at hand, if X was impressed by Declan’s efficient explanation, topped off by a demonstration, he didn’t show it. That said, he was definitely impressed. It helped that Declan was straight to the point; nothing sucked worse than someone who droned on and on about something simply because they were a supposed expert. That extra time could be spent sleeping. “Interesting, that pew pew went pew pow,” X said evenly as he tried to expand his arms to show just how loud of a sound it made. They were alot like his arrows, only more volatile...a lot more volatile and that was without mana. “I think a variety of pew pews will serve me well, so I’ll learn both. OH, and I saw this one dude, right before I buried him and his regiment alive, he had this long, clickity clack, bang click. We should have been out of his range, but he was still picking off our squad one by one. Got any of those?”

Declan nodded sagely at X’s understanding of the difference in power between the standard handgun and the revolver. At the statement, Declan brought the pieces onto the table so he can explain how the parts come together to work. After all, that’s what X needed. He tilted his head at his request of another weapon. It took him a second but he suddenly snapped his fingers. “Aha! I do have one of those and it’s my main weapon.” He pointed out gleefully before walking down the row of disassembled guns and then gesturing to a longer weapon. “The range with these bad boys are unparalleled. It punches through most shields too, with the right enchantments. I’ll show you how it works later, let’s go back to the pew pew and pew pow.”

He headed back to the table where the handgun and the revolver were at. Once he was sure that X was listening, Declan explained where each component went, slowly assembling the handgun until it was completely functional. He then inserted a magazine into the handgun and shot at the range. He did the same with the revolver but showed that the chambers for the bullets were different and they were inserted one by one. But then, Declan showed X a speedloader for the revolver but pointed out that not a lot of people use the revolvers due to how slow it is.

“And that’s how those two work. Other types of pew pews generally work the same way but if you find one that you’re interested in and want to learn about it. Just tell me. Any questions?”

“Sure thing, thanks.”

X followed Declan and watched over his shoulder as he assembled the guns. He was sure to do some mental reps himself to help speed up the process when he actually began to replicate the process. He was a bit discouraged about loading a revolver one by one, seemed strenuous, but was elated to see a speedloader. Eventually after some trial and error, and expert guidance, X was able to assemble the guns, albeit at a snail's pace. He figured he probably knew enough to summon them through his Fourth ability. Yet, there was still another pressing issue.

“How much would it cost to take one or two of the regular pew pew’s off your hands. I don’t think I would get figured out so easily since my ability changes everyday, but I would still like to change my fighting style when acting as a joker. Just in case one of my ex’s snitches on me.”

X paused for a moment then momentarily bent over as a short bout of the chuckles took over him. “Sorry, it’s just that I said ex’s and I’m….ah nevermind.”

“You guys have healers right?” Unprompted X took the assembled handgun and then shot himself in the abdomen without a warning, or change in facial expression. The bullet then fell to the ground, and X lifted his shirt to find a faint bruise starting to form, most likely due to being shot at point blank range. “Holy crap these things are good, no magic either. No wonder those guys were kicking our asses,” X said while placing the gun back on the table and staring at Declan as if he didn’t just shoot himself to test the capabilities of the weapon.

"One gold each." Declan responded almost immediately, staring into X, completely serious. He let a moment pass before grinning and waving his hand dismissively. "Kidding, kidding. You get the guns for free. Boss's orders." While they usually don't give them away to just anyone, X was an important Joker figure. They couldn't really charge Jokers for weaponry either considering they were all poor. They could only rely on the boons of their stealing and the financial support of their allied kingdoms. "Of course, if you wanna give me some money, I wouldn't be opposed." He continued absentmindedly.

He snickered. "Don't worry. I hope none of your ex's catch up to what you're doing. Gonna be real bad for your image."

He nodded mutely at the question and before he could even ask why they would need one, X grabbed the handgun and shot himself. The bullet dropped onto the ground, not even piercing skin and it only left a bruise. Declan's smile wavered for a second. Royals really are on another goddamn level entirely. And he knows that there are nobles that might even compete around the same level as X. This is why they could never enter a full on war against the government, it would have been so easy to simply exterminate them and even with their fancier weaponry, it was unlikely to win.

"Damn man, you got like, iron skin or something." Declan commented with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not sure if you'll get the same results with the others though. The pew pews are pretty weak in comparison." He rubbed his chin. Might as well show him the weapon that he wanted to see. Declan stuck his hand out and the parts of the sniper rifle made its way to the table. "So, the click clack boom is pretty heavy duty. Usually, we can get out of the range of the mages and-" He brought his hands up and mimicked holding a sniper rifle and pulled the trigger. "-boom. I love it."

"Ready or not…" With that, Declan showed and explained the parts to X with practiced expertise. He's never been much of a fan of fighting up close and personal. They call snipers cowards for not plunging into the thick of the battlefield, as if their job was any easier. He's spent years on improving his own sniper rifle with components that Argossian fed them and with magic Ornarians provided him. Once the practice rifle was finished assembling, he picked it up and peeked through the scope and pulled the trigger. The sound, though loud, was like music to his ears. Something familiar. The casing dropped to the ground and he placed it back on the table. The bullet hit true to its mark and Declan had a smirk on his face.

"Pretty amazing isn't it?"

He placed the smoking gun down and rubbed his sore spot before joining Declan once more at the table. X still found it strange that something without magic was capable of armor piercing damage. He had seen similar technology over the past years, but it still amazed him. What's more, you didn’t even have to be within striking damage of the enemy. Declan himself seemed just a bit more passionate about this particular weapon which in turn made X more interested. He stood silently, observing the ins and outs of the click clack boom. It was a pretty efficient weapon to deal with mages. X usually dealt with enemies at close range, but it would be smarter to get a kill shot from a safe distance if you could. X doubted if even he could survive a shot in the head from one of these things. Once the demonstration was over, X took his hands away from his ears, the ringing slowly subsiding. He nodded his head in agreement with Declan’s assertion of it being amazing.

“I’ll probably end up funding part of the organization anyway,” X stated now that his ears were back to normal, jumping to another part of their conversation, something that he often did. "But I suppose it would be worth it. Being adaptable is priority. Enemies rarely play to your strengths after all,” X said as he took hold of the gun and placed the bullet back into the chamber. He loaded it and then eyed the target. He tried to pretend it was similar to his arrows. He had practiced fighting with a variety of different weapons out of necessity, so he hoped the learning curve wouldn’t be so steep. “This one’s for Larry,” X said grimly before he pulled the trigger. Expectantly he missed...pretty badly actually; however, it was still in the vicinity of the target. “...Actually the next one is for Larry, that one was for Susan.”

X placed the rifle back on the table, having a sudden appreciation of Declan’s accuracy. He placed his hand in his left pocket and turned to Declan. “What’s the range of that one again?”

Declan shrugged. "Any financial or manual help is appreciated. We haven't had this much money since…" He paused, counting on his hands until he had all of his fingers up before looking back at X. "Since the founding I imagine." The only reason they've managed to get guns in the first place was because of Argossians and other funds came from stealing from noble houses. He turned to the target as X picked the rifle up to test it out. Unfortunately, it didn't quite hit the target. "It takes a bit of practice but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it." He shrugged, unbothered by X's failure. He knew the pain of switching from bows and arrows to guns. They weren't quite the same after all.

"Around 600 meters max give or take?" Declan responded though he looked a bit unsure of it. "If you're a skilled enough marksman, you can go even further. You have to pay attention to a lot of other factors but it's still possible." He's managed to hit a mark a thousand or so meters away, and even further with his personal Predator, but that was mostly because of magic. "Still, it's great for picking off enemies and keeping yourself safe."

“Yeeeeaaaah, based on what I’ve heard, I think you all were supposed to be killing me. Probably why support was so low,” X stated casually while still appreciating the mechanics of the gun. “Still, it would be pretty hilarious to get offed by someone pissing in a tree a couple miles away. Alas, such is the meaning of life,” X put down the gun and then turned to Declan, clapping his hands as if he was suddenly struck with the greatest idea that had ever popped into his skull...because it was. “...ANYWHO, what say we investigate the source of these wondrous pastries now that the boring part is over with,” X said as he took the pastry from his pocket and dropped it into his mask...before nearly choking to death. After a few coughs, he straightened up as if it never happened. “Shall we?”

"Yeah, honestly, we're supposed to. You know, down with the royalty and the system and all. No offense." Declan responded with a small shrug, as if they weren't talking about being on two very different sides of a battle in another alternate universe out there. He nodded sagely, snickering at the prospect of such an act. Honestly, camping at one part while waiting for the target was one of the best and worst things ever for a sniper but that was just how life is.

He grinned widely. "Yeah! Come on, follow me." He didn't seem all too concerned with X nearly dying from a pastry. Honestly, it would have been a funny story if it ever happened. Then again, losing X would greatly impact their fighting prowess. BUT then again, it would be the best story he would ever tell in his entire history. Managed to kill a royal via pastry - poisoned, no, just a normal pastry. Ah well, X managed to survive it. Maybe Guin will get a laugh out of it though.

Declan made another gesture for X to follow before leading him down the hallway and plunging into a mirror. It led them straight into the storage area of the Hearts castle. He strode out of the room with a bit of confidence before pointing down the hall. "Kitchen's over there. I think they just finished making some more desserts for the members."

X nodded after he nearly ended his Four Suits Career and followed Declan through the hall, over the woods, and into the mirror world. Once the kitchen was pointed out by Declan, the rest was history. “Got it, I’ll establish our base before they load the goods,” X said rather seriously with a sinister twinkle in his eyes. After cracking his knuckles, he sprinted down the hall and burst into the kitchen.

“Give me your buns,” X said assertively, however, there was a measure of controlled seriousness as many simply blinked in confusion. Some bakers paused what they were doing, and others seemed to pin their backsides to the wall as if they were trying to hide something. “We won’t take….well when he gets here, we won’t take no for an answer.”

Unlike X who had a disproportionate amount of physical prowess compared to Declan, the telepath took quite a bit more time in reaching the kitchen. He skidded to a stop behind X and peeked over his side. The bakers turned their eyes to the queen's personal telepath who was already a common face there.

"Yeah, give us all you've got!" Declan demanded, standing his ground and is surprisingly serious despite the fact that they all knew each other there. "Fresh pastries and all! Or else my buddy here isn't going to be happy!" He winked at one of the female bakers who had just taken out a batch from the oven.

A second passed in resounding silence before the female baker caught on. "O-Oh! Please, don't hurt us!" She dramatically said before displaying the tray of pastries to them. "Take what you want just please spare our innocent lives!"

X was content to enter a staring contest with the bakers to see who would break first. However, his backup had finally arrived, and he seemed to have set them straight. “No one’s innocent,“ X said in a serious tone as his mouth watered at the prospect of diving into the freshly baked pastries uninhibited.

“I think this is love at first sight. Alright Decaf, time to enjoy the fruits of someone else's labor,”

And cue the montage. X began stuffing whatever he could into his jacket pocket after clearing the table of unused bake ware. He then resorted to stuffing food in his pants when he ran out of room. Tears nearly formed in his eyes as he danced among the pastries that seemingly rained down upon him. A pleasant moan escaped his lips as he dropped a piping hot pastry into his mask; however, it quickly turned into a high pitched scream when he realized that they were in fact...very hot. Nevertheless, not even the shame of realizing he was a slut for baked goods was enough to slow him down. At one point he was even frolicking among them, and of course no montage was complete without the making of snow angels...pastry snow angels.

“Decaf, have you ever seen such a paradise,” he said through a mouth full of gods know what. “I think my bloodstream has morphed into jam….and that’s okay...”

Declan watched as X began to grab any and all pastries that his two hands could grab and stuffing them into his pockets as if someone would take them away from him. The telepath looked over to the bakers who seemed just as surprised. As X began to dance around the kitchen, somehow avoiding everything and everyone, screamed as he swallowed a hot pastry, frolicking among them and then laying down and making… pastry angels, everyone was just in pure stunned silence.

The head baker coughed into his fist, glaring at Declan and the telepath raised his hands up in a surrender motion, shrugging. Hey, he just wanted to get some pastries and everyone was used to Declan’s antics - often purposefully getting himself caught when he’s taking some portion of food. But this was just on a whole other level.

Declan was almost convinced that the pastry X ate earlier was spiked with some sort of addictive hallucinatory plant or something. He would have completely believed that theory if Declan wasn’t eating the same pastries earlier.

He rolled his eyes in amusement as X began to speak again. At least the kitchen wasn’t in complete ruins. The bakers might have been a bit traumatized to see some random man doing all of those but otherwise everything was unharmed. He leaned on a table, arms crossed, as he looked down at him. “I think you got addicted to our pastries man. Are you even still alive or have you transcended to the fifth plane or something?”

X took a few breaths, simply staring at eh ceiling as he liked his lips to satisfy his urge to ravage the kitchen yet again. “...If I ever died...this is the way I’d want to go. The way of the pastry.”

A/N: Punishment from Guin:
Declan: 1 year ban from the kitchen
Xixix: Permanent ban from the kitchen

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

WHERE DESTINY LEADS YOU

It has been fifteen years since he was taken away from his home. He wasn’t really sure what he was hoping for, galloping around orphanages in the Kingdom of Hearts with no dice on his youngest sibling, or any of them at all.

"I don't see the point of being here anymore." He said dejectedly as he stared at the orphanage. It was quite the lovely sight. The establishment itself wasn’t too grandiose, but a medium-sized three-story building built in the typical Heart’s fashion- steep and multi-faceted red roofs, textured wall surfaces, and an asymmetrical shape with a single tower looming.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, touching the locket that held a small crude drawing of his family. Coming home to an empty house has led him to a life of hatred. Does he even want his siblings to see him live the life he has now? Their mother taught them to be kind, loving, and warm. Even if the people looked down on her she preached on doing good, and he was the opposite. The Joker's cause for freedom was noble, but that didn’t take away the stains of blood on his hands.

"I want to find them. I need to see them." He said to himself as he marched with unsure steps. Should he have high hopes? No, but he still did. He hoped that he would find Lindsey even if he had no idea what he would look like. All Frey remembered was the bright blue eyes that looked at him with wonder as he played with baby Lindsey.

He walked around, his eyes flitting from face to face searching for those same blue eyes. Maybe it was hopeless after all.

Children's laughter filled a room from the far right, gaining Frey's interest. He inched closer until he could hear it all clearly, taking a peek until he found a pack of children, from toddlers to teenagers, sitting on the floor around a brunette. He moved to the side of the entrance frame, quietly watching the interaction. The scene looked so perfect, that it filled his chest with warmth and longing. The very thing in front of him reminded him of his days with his family. He couldn't take his eyes off of it, a smile spread across his face as he continued watching.

“Victoria, Victoria! Tell us more jokes!” One of the children, a red-haired female, playfully demanded with a big grin on her face.

The woman at the center, whom Frey could safely assume to be Victoria, shook a little as she laughed. Her long brown hair swayed when she leaned back on her arms, hazel eyes fixing on the ceiling as she paused to ponder.

“Alright then…,” she murmured before her face brightened up, “what do you call a fake noodle?” She sounded very confident with her joke.

“What?” The children responded in unison.

“An impasta!”

There was a moment of silence until Frey broke out in laughter. It took him a second to understand the joke, but what he found funny was the fact that the children themselves didn’t laugh. It seemed awkward to crack a joke and not have at least one person laugh… right? Okay, that was a lie, he also found the joke a bit funny.

The children all collectively looked at him, to which he gave a smile to and a small wave. Suddenly he felt nervous being the center of attention; some looked frightened, a few were neutral, while the rest seemed ecstatic.

"Are you here to adopt one of us?" One excitedly asked, no younger than seven it seemed, with a grin that flashed a broken tooth.

"Well, uh…" He didn't expect for a kid to ask that question, but he should have. This was an orphanage first and foremost. He scratched his head, "I'm looking for someone, actually." A smile on his face but in his eyes was nothing but sadness.

He looked at the woman, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry for interrupting, I like your joke though." His tone was sincere, and only then did he get a good look at her and she was undeniably beautiful. "You should continue your bonding, I'll get out of your hair."

“What are you apologizing for? If anything, I have to thank you for saving me from completely mortifying myself.” She wittingly responded. There were glimmers of amusement in her eyes as they squinted ever so slightly.

A charming grin spread across his lips, "Then I'm glad to be at the right place and at the right time." He said with a bow as if the woman was royalty and he was a mere commoner that was glad to be of help.

Most likely playing along, the brunette made a dismissive wave for him to rise.

"I think it's quite rude of me to not even introduce myself, ahem. My name is Adelleid Frey, it's a pleasure to meet you." He looked at the woman before waving to the kids with a soft hello in hopes that the other children wouldn't be so frightened anymore.

Oddly enough, a look of surprise briefly crossed Victoria’s face. No matter, it quickly dissolved in favor of a pleasant smile. “Charmed, I’m sure. My name’s Victoria.” She stood up from her position and did a small curtsy. The gesture was done in such a sophisticated manner befitting that of nobilities.

However, before Frey could further inquire about her background, Victoria soldiered on. “Please don’t mind the children’s reactions. They have complicated feelings regarding visitors. Most of them are elated to see other people but some have grown wary.” On cue, one of the nervous-looking kids hid behind her, tugging on her moss-green dress as he peeked at Frey with glossy eyes.

“It’s just that the children are very close with one another. Not all of them reacts well when someone gets adopted.” She gently ruffled the boy’s hair. “Of course there are also a few who have… bad experiences with adults. Either case, I’m sure you understand.”

Frey watched the child behind Victoria with understanding eyes. He knew full well of what she meant. "I know what you mean." He bent down and had the most gentle look in his eyes, "I was adopted too, believe it or not, and it wasn't by the most pleasant family." There was sadness in his voice as he remembered the day he was taken away, the begging of his mother to let him stay. That she would work twice as hard to bring in customers but the man didn't accept as he would be given a hefty price for the child.

He took something out of his pocket, with a closed fist he offered it to the young child. "Here." The child stepped closer out of curiosity, as Frey slowly opened his hand for suspense.

"But there's nothing there." The young one said in complete confusion.

"That's just what you think." He reached out to the boy's ears and pulled out a candy that was hidden by his illusion magic. "For you."

The kid squinted his eyes and accused him, "You used magic didn't you?"

Frey raised up his hands guiltily and forlornly said, "And here I thought I wouldn't get caught."

"I think it's cool." The man gave a small smile at the comment, he asked if he was good in the kid's book to which the latter agreed and ran off to the other his age and proudly showed off his candy.

Victoria watched the child fly off with a fond smile before her attention got snatched by the visitor.

"Umm, it's bold of me to ask but you seem to know the people here well." Frey started, slightly shy at the sudden request. "Do you by chance know a teenager? About fifteen or sixteen years of age with bright blue eyes?"

The brunette didn’t seem to mind the question, although she slightly tilted her head to the left. “Well, I do know a lot of teenagers here with blue eyes.” She arched a brow. “If you can tell me more features then perhaps I could narrow it down.”

A pained look crossed over his face. He felt so ashamed to admit that he didn’t have any more features to provide Victoria. It was one of the reasons why he felt so disheartened earlier. "I don't have much aside from that, I-" he stopped, wondering if he was willing to share his story to someone he just met.

"My youngest brother was less than a year old when I was taken away. We used to call him Little Elli as a baby." There was a tinge of desperation in his voice, with so little information it was hard. "It's been fifteen years, our family name was Falenas... Which I'm not even sure is being used by any of my siblings anymore."

“Oh,” Victoria breathed out. There was clear sympathy in her hazel eyes, as though she went through the same experience and therefore understood him completely. But of course, that would be too surreal. Fate was rarely that kind.

“It would take us long, but it should be of no issue. We can check every blue-eyed teenager in this orphanage. You’ve already come all this way. We can’t let your efforts go to waste.” The female added with a touch of determination.

She then turned to the rest of the children and excused herself, earning a few whines here and there but nothing that she couldn’t solve with a promise of return. When all was said and done, Victoria faced Frey with a smile. “Come, let’s go before the children change their mind and plead for another joke.”

Frey locked on to Victoria's eyes, noticing her sympathy. He wanted to ask why she had such a look of understanding but decided against it. They were just mere acquaintances. "Thank you… for accompanying me." He said to her as he waved to the children and promised to bring her back.

“It’s quite alright. I love the children, but I’ve been running out of jokes.” She shrugged before leading down the hallway.

He followed Victoria, walking just a split-step behind. His eyes looked over to the woman every three seconds that passed, not knowing what to say. But he feels there should be something that he should say, the silence makes him feel queasy.

“If you keep on staring at me, I’ll get embarrassed.” She suddenly said.

Surprise and guilt were apparent on his red face. He didn't think that he'd get caught, reprimanding himself to be more careful next time. "I was just thinking of something to say, I usually have something to say." He said in his defense. "Anyway, do you visit often? The kids from earlier seem to have a real liking to you."

She only giggled at his earlier reply before moving on. “I try to visit whenever I get the time, but it’s not as often as you probably think.” Her pace was leisurely, as if she wanted to talk to him as long as possible.

This whole interaction has flipped his personality upside down. He wasn't one to be so speechless and shy, this is mostly because he got caught staring. "I see. It's my first time here, I've been visiting different orphanages in this kingdom for the past few months." He told her, "The kids, they look like they are well taken care of, which is great. I've been to a few outside of the kingdom and it pales in comparison to the ones here. I heard it was all because of the Queen, seems like a great person to me."

A smile, different than the ones she had shown before, crossed the woman’s face. It felt warmer. “Hmm, I guess I can tell you my secret.”

He slowly shifted his gaze to Victoria, head tilted questioningly to the side. "Secret? Sounds interesting but only if you are sure to share it to a stranger like me."

Suddenly, Victoria turned around with both hands on her head, chin tilted up as though she was wearing a crown instead. “I’m actually the Queen of Hearts.” There was a lilt in her voice as she tried to imitate the Queen’s pitch, but she struggled at the latter part and sounded like a squeaky duck instead.

He couldn't help but give a light laugh, he went along with it. "To think that I was in the presence of a queen all this time." He bowed deeply, "Queen Victoria of the Hearts Kingdom, I am deeply honored to be in your presence."

He felt like he was under a spell. He has never felt this comfortable with someone before, was it because she was someone that cared for the children? The way that she acted? He always had his guard up around others and while it was odd, it was a nice change of pace. When was the last time he actually laughed from the bottom of his heart? It has been too long. "I should have noticed just from your beauty. It's very queen-ly." He added before smirking.

A playfully conceited laugh escaped her lips as she soldiered on with their pretend. “You dare flirt with the Queen without an appointment? You’re a mad man.” The poor voice imitation remained, as if the two of them wouldn’t get in trouble if a loyalist overheard their jests.

"Won't a merciful queen give me a pardon? I'm just a handsome man hoping to find his younger siblings." He said back with a gesture that said, woe is me. "If you give me a chance, I can show you that I'm a loyal one."

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think you’d have a better chance with my kinder side, the civilian Victoria. To summon her, you’ll need to chant her name three times.” Queen Victoria said as she continued walking backwards, one brow raised in a challenge.

Frey couldn’t help but smirk, he was always one to take on a challenge. “Three times? That’s easy.” He took a breath and said, “Victoria.”

“Yes?” She urged with a playful smirk.

A pause before he continued, inching closer as his grin mirrored hers. “Victoria.”

“Yes?” She repeated, a little bit challenging.

And for the last one, “Viiiiicc-” his tone was frisky as his smile grew wider, “-cause I think you’re pretty doesn’t mean you can just play me around.” He gave her a quick wink, his smile growing more confident as he took her hand and twirled her around, as though they were nobles dancing in court.

This seemed to have taken Victoria by surprise as her eyes widened and her cheeks dusted with pink. But no matter, she was quick to give a lighthearted laugh as he let go of her hand.

“Okay, that backfired. I just wanted to prove I’m actually funny.” Victoria said as they continued their walk, and Frey could hear the pout in her voice.

A low chuckle escaped from Frey's lips as Victoria said her truth. "Don't worry, I think you're a funny impasta." He walked with her, giving a gentle side-eye as he reinforced the qualities of the woman beside him. "And you're smart, beautiful, and charming."

"Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives. I sure know those kids are." He murmured, facing away from Victoria and to the window. Shying away because he's being a bit sappy right now.

“Oh,” he wasn’t looking at her, but she seemed to have been caught speechless. “That’s very flattering,” she chuckled a bit, “I hope you don’t say that to every person you meet.” It has only been more or less twenty minutes since they met after all.

Frey gave an offended look to the brunette but it was merely all a farce. "Why would you think that?" But he can't deny that it hasn't been long since they met. "I never- and I'm being serious right now- done such a thing." He continued walking a few steps more before speaking once again, "It's been a while since I felt this comfortable around someone."

She glanced at him as they walked, like she was gauging his sincerity through his face. “Well if that’s the case then I’m glad I cracked the impasta joke at the right time and at the right place.”

It was only a matter of time before they stopped in front of a closed door. Even from outside, they could both easily hear the chatters and noises coming from the room. It seemed to be fully packed with activities.

“This is the orphanage’s training room. Its walls are enchanted to contain the children’s spells, but some of them could still be pretty rowdy. Most of the teenagers hang in there, so we’d have a good chance.” Victoria introduced before turning the knob and pushing through the door.

When he peeked inside, all he saw were flashes of colors. Teenagers were sharpening their skills and improving their spells. It was an amazing sight. He looked over at Victoria, an unsure look in his eyes. He was afraid to be disheartened if he didn't find his brother.

Sensing his glum, Victoria placed a comforting hand on the side of his arm before heading in.

"Okay," He breathed deeply. His steps were slow and with a slight sense of determination unlike earlier, following slightly behind from the woman.

The teenagers barely noticed the adults’ arrival. They were far too busy flinging basic spells, clashing wooden swords, and impressing one another to keep an eye on the door. It was only when a waterball headed straight for Victoria did a few of them take notice.

"Oh no!" One of the orphans screamed out loud with a horrified look on her face.

Frey was quick to catch sight of the spell and immediately blocked it from hitting Victoria. His lips were pressed into a line as he felt the cold water soak his skin. "What a shame, this is my favorite vest." He whined, but not angry.

"Are you okay, mister?" The caster asked with worry.

"Don't worry." He replied back with gentleness. "No harm done from a simple water spell but you should be careful where you aim."

Victoria stepped from behind and regarded him with a worried look. “I’m grateful for that, but you didn’t have to block it for me. I’m sorry about your outfit.” There was clear guilt in her brown eyes.

He shrugged before giving Victoria a beam, "It's fine, really, and besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't protect you from a waterball?" He said rather quirkily but really, he doesn't like the emotion that she was portraying, guilt doesn't suit her nor was it worth worrying about.

She lightly huffed, “I can handle a waterball, good sir.”

However, the moment was quickly cut when the teenagers gathered around them. One of them handed Frey a towel, although none of the adults were truly sure if it had already been used or not.

“Alright, children, can everyone with blue eyes come gather with me?” Victoria announced with a clap of her hands before proceeding to the open space on the left. A little bit confused, the children shared a look before shrugging, obeying the woman’s request without much of a fuss.

Frey gave the teenager a grateful thank you for the towel and immediately made use of it. Watching the children follow Victoria’s orders without question made him wonder if the woman was someone who merely visited often or was there more to it.

The children gathered to one side to the brunette’s left, disregarding the females he searched for the same bright eyes that he remembered. “Is there anyone named Elliot? Elli?”

The teenagers looked at each other before two hands were raised. His face perked up as they stepped forward, both looked so different from him but he couldn’t let that fact make his heart sink. They had different fathers, after all, it was normal to not look alike.

He asked when they came to the orphanage, one has been living here from age seven onwards while the other has been here for as long as he can remember. Frey turned to the former, he asked if he remembered his old family and heard a tale of a far cry from his own. He gave the teen a quiet thank you before turning to the other.

“Do you have anything with you that you had when you came here?” The young teen pulled out a letter, his father promising to come back after he settles a huge amount of debt. The strained smile that he had been holding. “Thank you for answering, it must have been weird to just be asked some questions and I’m sorry as I must have brought back some painful memories.”

He turned to Victoria, a pained smile on his face. “Looks like my brother isn’t here after all.”

A crestfallen look befell the woman’s features. “I’m sorry…,” she uttered out, sincerity evident in her soft voice.

Frey bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears. "It's okay." Words that he meant to say mostly to himself, in hopes of reinforcing the idea of being okay. "I never really saw the odds in my favor, it never was since I was a kid."

He faked a smile, but there was clear pain in his eyes that he couldn't mask. "I guess this means that I'll have to go." He said to Victoria as a tear rolled down the side of his face.

Although subtle, the tear didn’t go unnoticed in the woman’s eyes. She pursed her lips for a moment, looking somewhat strained, before tapping the side of his arm and gesturing to the door. “If you wish, but at least let me escort you out.”

Frey nodded, wiping the tear with a handkerchief that he pulled from his pocket. "I'd appreciate that. Thank you." He proceeded to walk out of the room, his steps mimicking Victoria's out in the hallway.

The first few moments were silent, as though none of them had anything to say amidst the solemnness. It was only when they were halfway through the corridor did Victoria speak up.

“I was told it was impossible.” She vaguely began, her eyes fixed on the path ahead like her next words could be found in their steps. “Reuniting with my family- people said it was impossible.”

He looked at her, curious and not just because of what had happened earlier but because only now did he find out that Victoria… she was in the same situation. It made his heart ache, and yet at the same time he found comfort at the fact that he was not alone. That he wasn't the only one that lost a family, that he wasn't the on;y one hoping to reunite with them.

"They said that to me too. Especially after the war. That it was less likely for my siblings to be alive." He touched her hand, hoping that it would provide comfort to the woman beside him. "Why would they say that?"

The action elicited a flinch from the woman, but she didn’t retract her hand. Instead, a small smile formed on her lips; it looked a tad bit bittersweet.

“Because it really did seem impossible.” A deep sigh escaped her lips before she raised her head slightly, staring out the azure skies through the window. “A monster destroyed our home many years ago. My family sacrificed themselves to let me live. I was left all alone.”

He took in her bittersweet smile, it seemed like the most beautiful and heartbreaking smile that he has ever seen. "I'm sorry to hear that." His voice was solemn, but there was also a new sense of determination burning in him. "Then I'll help you make it possible, because nothing is impossible."

He understood nothing was more important than family. "I won't give up on my family. I'll find them, and I'll help you." His features were adorned with sincerity. "To be together again, for family."

A big grin broke on her face in response, and she gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you.” She appeared to be genuinely glad to find a kindred soul.

“But this isn’t about me. I already know it’s possible.” Her squinted eyes shifted back to its former shape, a serious look now donning her sophisticated features. “I reunited with my family three years ago. It was brief and temporary, but I felt their embraces. It was the happiest moment of my life.” There was this certain glimmer in her eyes, as if she was reliving a moment thousands of memories away. “We had to separate again, but it’s alright. I will see them again because I’m working hard for it.”

It was only then when she finally looked at Frey, as they exited the establishment hand-in-hand. “As you’ve said, nothing is impossible. You just have to believe it. That’s why you should never be disheartened and just keep on pushing forward. Your family is out there, waiting for you.”

"Thank you for those inspiring words." He told her as he started to take a step down first before turning to Victoria. "Your words and your story, it gives me hope. I'm glad you saw them again and I'm happy that you have a way of seeing them again."

A small and appreciative smile is on his face as he said, "If you ever need any help… I'm more than gladly to provide any assistance, Victoria." He let go, suddenly missing the warmth of her hand that he was holding on to earlier.

Their eyes then bore into one another as a soft smile made its way to Victoria’s lips. Slowly, she rose to her tiptoes and leaned forward, her hands planted on the man’s firm shoulders as she brought her lips near his ear.

“There’s actually something you can help me with, Sanguis.”

Surprise was painted on Frey’s face as the brunette leaned closer to him and whispered. It made his heart beat faster, made him think of the many possibilities of who would know the alias Sanguis other than the Jokers. No, it wasn’t likely for him to be found out by someone outside of the organization.

He breathed in and sighed softly. His expression turned serious but a smile was present on his lips. “Anything you need, I stand by what I said. Especially to someone who shares the same cause as me.”

She withdrew with a satisfied smirk on her lips, her eyes a little bit squinted with amusement. “We sure have plenty of similarities, no?” She clasped her hands behind her, shifting her weight to her other leg. “Tell me, what do you think of becoming a royalty?”

“Indeed, it seems we do.” He replied to her, gaze stuck to her. He tilted his head at the question of becoming a royal, it’s been on his mind since he was adopted by the Jhousts, they wanted one of the adopted children to rise in ranks and become a Royal.

“Sounds fun. If I’m given the task for the Jokers then I would gladly, but I don’t have the necessary education.” He said the last words with a slight grim and yet can’t help but admit that their conversation turned into something quite exciting for him. “You want me as a figurehead?” He asked with a voice that buzzed with delight.

“I suppose you can say that.” Victoria shrugged as she took the steps down from the porch. “The royal education shouldn’t be much of a problem. I can arrange for it to be fixed.” She added rather casually, as though she wasn’t implying she had the right connections to place someone in a royal position.

His grim demeanor was replaced with a smirk and eyes filled with interest. Just this conversation is enough to convince him that the woman in front of him has a high position in Jokers. “Well, I’m not a person to throw away my shot. As I said earlier, I’ll do what you need me to and I meant that.” He wasn’t someone to break a promise after all. He was all for this plan.

“Nicely said.” She peeked over her shoulder to flash him a similar smirk. “Jack Adelleid Frey- it has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does.” Taking a few steps down to stand beside her. “Am I supposed to replace the Jack here in the Hearts Kingdom?” He questioned as the Jokers are a group scattered all around Ornare, with the right strings being pulled he could be a Jack of any Kingdom but the Jack of Hearts was a powerful man.

Once more, she turned to face him fully. “Hmm, why? Do you think our Jack needs to be replaced?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully before adding a, “Or any of our royalties, for that matter?”

Frey shrugged, “It's not that I think that they should be replaced. You asked me what I think of becoming Royalty, we are in the Hearts Kingdom and while the Royals have nothing but a good reputation from the common folk, I can only assume that you want someone at the top. Pull the strings and make the Joker's goal happen.” He has nothing against the three rulers, they sound fantastic from what he's heard. “Or do you mean to put me in a different Kingdom?”

She hummed a bit and continued walking. “Correct. I think the Clubs need you more.” She revealed as she looked down the path, watching as her foot stomped onto a small rock and felt it break beneath her sole. “The Hearts have already been dealt with. It’s as good as ours. In due time, we’ll be reaping what we sow.”

A brief silence then overcame the woman just as she raised her eyes to the sky. “The Jokers have come so far, no?”

The Clubs, he’s not complaining. Frey has always wanted to see the Kingdom of Clubs but Victoria’s words from earlier made him wonder what the woman meant by “It’s as good as ours.” He watched her look up to the sky and replied to her question with a soft smile. “We have. Is there anything you want to do once it’s all over?”

She kept her eyes on the clouds, the same softness and longing from earlier returning. “Yes. I want to be with my family. Forever.”

“I’d want nothing more than that too.” He mirrored Victoria's longing and tenderness but he knows that he can't be together with them forever. “They’re everything for people like us.” He looked at the woman beside him and wished from the bottom of his heart that their wishes come true. “I’ll get going, those kids are still waiting for you, right? Wouldn’t want them to get angry at me for keeping you this long.”

She chuckled at this before giving a single nod. “Well then, it was a wonderful encounter. I’m sure this won’t be the last time we see each other.”

“It really won’t be, but maybe after all this I can take you out? As a thank you for everything should we ever meet again like this.” He said to her with a charming smile. “I know that I kept saying this but really, thank you for accompanying me. If it weren’t for you… I don’t even want to think about it.” He most likely would have given up by now if that was the case. He stepped forward and gave the woman a small wave.

He walked slowly, thinking deeply on what’s going to happen next, after being offered to become Jack he’d have a lot more to do. Finding his siblings would be harder but he’ll make it work. He has too. He felt the wind pick up in strength, making his hair sway to the side.

“Victoria!” A youthful voice screamed out, excited as the footsteps grew nearer every split second.

Frey turned around, he wasn’t far yet when someone called out to Victoria and found a young teenager with spiky brown hair and eyes as blue as the sky. But what caught his attention wasn’t the blue eyes that he was searching earlier but the crown necklace with engraved words. He felt like the world stopped and he kept on staring. "Elliot?" That could be the only reason as to why he had that necklace.

Victoria bent down a little bit to ruffle the boy’s hair, crooked grins forming on both their faces before the woman’s eyes widened with realization. In that instant, she turned to look at Frey, her shimmering and hopeful eyes conveying everything he needed to know.

Gary loved it when Victoria gave him attention, the woman has been nothing but kind to them. He especially loves her tomato flatbread. "Is there something wrong?" The teen asked as Victoria looked to the side, following her line of sight and saw the similar red-colored eyes and white hair which haunted him some nights. The same features he hasn't seen in such a long time.

Frey looked at Victoria with the same hopeful eyes. He was quick to come back, he was already just two steps away when Gary looked his way. "Where did you get your necklace?"

Gary's hand moved instinctively to the cold metal hanging by his neck. He gave the man a suspicious look before replying with a question, "Why do you ask?"

"I only know one person with a necklace like that and I was wondering if you know her." Frey knelt down, his eyes were wishing that this teenager in front of them was finally him.

"My sister gave it to me before she left me here when I was seven." There was a tone of slight anger when he answered. He hasn't forgotten that day where he waited for her all day at the steps of the orphanage.

"Lindsey Elliot Falenas…" The man whispered to himself with bated breath. "I'm sure she had a good reason to." But the teen wouldn't believe it, not his words. He was practically a stranger after all. "Regina isn't the kind of person to do such a thing."

"What do you know? You weren't even there. That's right, I know who you are. You have the same eyes, the very same ones that left me." The teenager was angry, even if it has been years he could remember himself waiting until the cold midnight for his sister to come back.

The words hurt but he can’t exactly blame his younger brother. “She must have left you something in that necklace.”

A quizzical look fell on Gary’s face. He always thought of the necklace as just a simple necklace. Frey gently tugged it, a crown with Regina’s name and another chain that led to a small metallic cylinder. He opened it and found a piece of paper, one that Frey urged the teen to read.

Gary looked at Victoria, his eyes asking for guidance as he stared at the piece of paper that Frey was offering to him.

Victoria placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, “Go on. I know how much you’ve always wanted to be with your family again.” She softly urged.

Gary took in a deep breath before taking, what the woman beside him said was true. Despite his anger of being left alone, he missed Regina deeply. “Dear Little Elli, I’m sorry for leaving you behind. If I could I’d bring us back home but I couldn’t bear the idea of you alone once I’m gone.” His vision started to blur, his grip on the paper tightened.

He looked at Frey and all he saw was that the man had his head hung low, the fringe of his hair hiding his face. “I could feel myself grow weaker each day that passes, and every day I do my best to be the strongest I can be, but I’m at my limit. I’m sorry that I made it look like I abandoned you, but I just couldn’t bring it in me to tell you I’m dying. I hope one day Frey or Elijah will find you. I love you so much. Your sister, Regina.”

“Damn it.” Frey hissed. His eyes in tears, but there was a darkness in it, if only he had found them sooner. But it wasn’t the time for self-blame, Elliot needed him. He pulled his brother into a hug and whispered. “It’s okay to cry.”

There was warmth in Frey’s embrace that Gary just couldn’t help but break into tears even after trying to hold it in. “I’m here.” The teenager could hear his older brother say tenderly. “I’m so happyI found you.”

Meanwhile, Victoria could only watch the heartfelt exchange somberly. It was a joyous occasion- a reunion between two kindred souls victimized by the cruelty of time- so why was there bitter dullness within her brown eyes? Nevertheless, the pangs of jealousy quickly subsided and the woman pursed her lips into a smile, her orbs earning mellow shimmers.

“And I’m glad the two of you found each other.” She interjected after giving the brothers ample time to bask in a warm embrace. “I imagine the two of you have a lot of things to catch up on. I’ll leave you to it.”

Frey looked to Victoria, his face showing nothing but happiness and appreciation for the woman. “The other kids would be looking for you after all.” He reminded her softly and watched her figure slowly disappear to the orphanage. He looked over to his brother who had soaked cheeks and snot running down his nose.

“Good grief, why do you have so much snot.” He quipped to which the young teen laughed slightly. Pulling out his handkerchief, Frey wiped his brother’s face and said, “We have a lot to talk about but first off, how have you been these past years?” He started what will be a long conversation into the night that will end with the two brothers leaving the building hand in hand.

mention: n/a|| interaction: Victoria . D O V E

 

[TPBx]

Athania swung her blade desperately to fend off the mage hunter's aggressive attacks. She dodged the chain that whizzed past her face but was immediately met with a forceful punch to the face knocking her back. Athania flipped back onto her feet but was immediately met with a flying knee to the face once more. The mage hunter pulled the chain back causing the morning star to fly back towards her, Athania tried to block but the force was too great, shattering her armor and her arm. Athania writhed in pain on the ground tossing and turning, and before she knew it the mage hunter stood above her. The beast of a woman shoved the scythe into her lower rib cage and hoisted her up high into the air. Athania begged for her life, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as the Mage Hunter drew her sword and plunged it into her heart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Athania awoke suddenly, her heart beating out of her chest. She clutched her bosom beneath the sheets out of reaction to what had just happened to her in her dream, expecting to be bleeding from some fatal wound, but there was none. The man sleeping beside her was undisturbed however, still sound asleep. His arm still wrapped around her, so Athania had to wrest herself from his grasp. The now Queen of Diamonds was still in a daze, her head pounded. She did not remember much and the room she was in seemed unfamiliar. Athania then hazily remembered that she and Garrett spent the prior night drinking, so she must have ended up at his place somehow. She crawled out of bed and temporarily dressed herself with by whisking together a billowy layer of shadows that then cemented themselves into a dark gown, and then proceeded to open the curtains. The light immediately assaulted her eyes and added on to the general discomfort of her hangover.

She surveyed the bedroom, and it was a mess. She gathered her clothes and other belongings which had been strewn throughout the room before heading into the next room which happened to be the kitchen. Athania noticed several empty bottles of liquor, and she realized that the two of them must have gotten really drunk and one thing lead to another. She didn't mind and went around the kitchen looking for a glass and some water to try and help her get over the headache.

She was looking through some cupboards when she was startled by a hand wrapped around her waist and a voice whispered into her ear, "I think you're looking for this," as another hand came beside her, bringing down a cup from the top shelf of one of the cupboards. Athania turned her head around and briefly caught a glimpse of Garrett before his lips locked with hers. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation of that brief moment his warm body was pressed against hers. "I'm guessing you didn't really get a good night's rest. You look like hell."

"Feel like it too. You mind fetching some water, this headache's killing me."

"You can say that again," Garrett replied, stretching out his arms and yawning while walking away from Athania. He grabbed a pail off the counter and went outside for a brief moment and came back in with it full of water. "Did you have those nightmares again? About the war," he asked, filling up a glass and passing it to Athania.

Athania sheepishly grabbed the glass, took a few sips of water and replied, "yeah, I did. I guess its been on my mind more recently since I have to go to that meeting in Valencia today."

"I see... I've been having those lately too. I remember my men getting wiped out by that damn traitor. I see their twisted faces every time I close my eyes and drift off, it hurts but you'll get over it some day," he sighed. It was clear that like Athania, Garrett also suffered from some amount of post traumatic stress from the war. Athania could see it in his eyes that the experience and the things he saw being one of the few survivors of the decimation of the diamond kingdom, all still haunted him. She saw a bit of herself in him, after all those experiences. "Why not just forget about all that, skip the meeting, and spend the day with me," Garrett stated, wrapping his arm around her once more after downing his own glass of water. "It'll be great we can head out for a walk in the forest, have a picnic, come back, have a few drinks, and a little more fun if you know what I mean," he added flirtatiously while twirling a lock of Athania's soft blonde hair around between his fingers.

"You know I can't do that, darling. I have duties as the Queen," she replied. "Though if you're a good boy these next few days while I'm gone then maybe I'll reward you with some of my precious free time." She stretched out her opposite hand around him and stroked the nape of his neck and gently let her fingers flow up to his jaw, gently grasping it to turn his stern face towards her. It was apparent at least something was on his mind other than wooing her over to stay. Athania looked up to him with a smile on her face. "Hey, stop looking so gloomy. I'll at least give you something to remember me by." As she got up on tip toes and embraced him, kissing Garrett on the cheek. They separated briefly and Garrett stared into her glistening eyes before he kissed her back on the lips. They separated once more and Garrett relaxed, leaning his hips back onto the counter.

"Just a few days?"

"Yeah, don't worry."

Athania afterwards quickly got dressed and ready for the day. Then headed for the door and made her way out. An air mage carriage was already there waiting by the door to quickly fly her off to Valencia. Garrett followed her out and grasped her hand, "Before you go, I just wanna say, I love you, Athania." His stern face earlier had turned warm and delighted, yet slightly melancholy seeing her leave. Athania instinctively smothered her head into his chest and clung onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Garrett patted her shoulder with one hand and gently brushed his palm across the back of her head with the other.

"I love you too, Garrett." Athania released herself from him and made her way onto the carriage, which took off at a blinding speed towards Valencia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garret sat on the couch by himself. He closed his eyes and vividly remembered that day in Valencia.

Marillys jumped into action, and Garriytt cheered seeing the empire's secret weapon in action. The Mage Hunter Corps barely survived after whatever that mage did to destroy the city, and he and his men were sure would win this battle until a few moments later when the Homunculus rammed his blade into one of his men, pulling out and nearly bisecting the man. Garriytt quickly fired off a few rounds from his revolver, but the Homunculus was supernaturally quick. He dodged the bullets with ease and even deflected some with his sword.

"Master Vallyryhan," more of his men cried out before being cut down by Marillys. Garriytt pulled out his grapple gear and attempted to retreat. But the Homunculus was too fast. Marillys managed to jump ahead of him and cut the line before he could make his getaway. Garriyt drew his sword and prepared to fight the beast, but it was far from a fair fight. His Kite Form Yl Fenca was still somehow outclassed in speed by this monster wielding the slow and precise Will Form. Garriyt tried to look for an opening but Marillys would not easily provide him one as he effortlessly dodged or parried every one of his strikes. Aside from the Homunculus's surreal abilities, his training and skills he learned and mastered from his apprenticeship under Grand Blademaster Khyros proved to be more than enough to defeat him.

"What the hell," Vallyryhan exclaimed, "YOU DAMN TRAITOR!!" Garriytt stepped back and pulled out his revolver, but before he could unload even one shot, Marillys shattered his wrist with one slash with the back of his sword. Garriytt knelt down clasping his arm. He wanted to cry but kept his composure. The homunculus stood above him with his blade at his pointed at Garriytt's throat. "Do it. You filthy Homunculus, fucking kill me. End my life like you did the rest of my brothers."

"I won't take any more life than is necessary this day. Besides it may be a worse fate to leave you alive and have you reflect upon your sins for the rest of your miserable life." Marillys then kicked Garriytt to the ground and spat on him. "That and I'm not going to the end the last living line of the Great Argossian Mage Hunter clans. I bring you unfortunate news, your cousin, Ylsa, is dead."

"No that can't be true, the shields went down, she must have fulfilled her duty. You're a traitor and a liar, there's no way."

"Well head up that hill and see for yourself. I have other business to attend to," Marillys replied before heading off elsewhere....

 

[Coyote Hart]

Part V: A Test of Strength

Cilantro’s CS can be found here. Myles’ CS can be found here.

“Myles! Myles!” Cilantro was shaking Myles awake.

“Mrpphh…” Myles mumbled as he rolled over in the bed, “What is it?”

“Today is Devil’s Due!” Cilantro said, shaking Myles again. Myles rolled further away into Cilantro’s spot on the straw bed. If he kept going, he would end up tumbling off and onto the hardwood ground.

“What’s that again?” Myles said, his voice muffled by the straw.

Cilantro dug through his brain, trying to remember what that word Myles used to describe the event was. Copay? Co-operate?

“Cosplays! Dressup!” Cilantro shouted into Myles’ ear.

In an instant, Myles was up, scrambling out of bed and switching his baby blue nightwear for his usual t-shirt and jeans. Cilantro didn’t know if it was because he shouted too loudly into Myles’ ear and scared him, or if he was as excited about the event as he was a month ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Myles said as he began to rake his hands through his hair, trying to comb some sort of order in the mess.

“Being able to fight each other doesn’t make you excited,” Cilantro said, “But wearing costumes does?”

“I’m not a man of violence, Gnocc-gnocc,” Myles said. Cilantro swore that Myles used that nickname just to annoy him. Myles moved to the table at the end of the room, where Cilantro had already poured some hot water into the french press to make coffee, as Myles had taught him. “But I suppose that you’re ready to test your might, eh?”

“Yeah, that situation in the Clubs wasn’t fair,” Cilantro said, instinctively reaching to his neck. The puncture wounds in his neck* had healed, but when they were fresh, Cilantro was fascinated by how small and petite they were. “I was high and you didn’t have your best gun.”

Myles passed a cup of coffee to Cilantro, and he accepted it gratefully. At this point, Cilantro was able to drink coffee with only a doublet of honey. But as a result, Cilantro was hopelessly addicted to the rich brown drink, like Myles was.

“Yes, and I wasn’t giving my all,” Myles said as he picked up the parasol from the ground, swinging it casually, “Let’s see how well Kaiden’s training performs in battle-like conditions. But right now, I’m starving. Wanna go out and get something?”

“Sure,” Cilantro said.

The two friends exited out of their room and into the bustling community of the Jokers. In the summer, the Hearts kingdom was a stifling mess of heat, but with the Joker base located underground, it was decently cool year-round. The banter of people permeated through the cavernous walls and the smell of breakfast completed the strangely friendly vibe.

“I swear, these eggs and bacon are so much better than Argossia’s,” Myles said when they sat themselves down at one of the hardwood tables with their food, “Y’all don’t have GMO.”

“GMO?” Cilantro asked as he began to shovel the scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Giant Manly Ogres,” Myles joked.

“Sexy,” Cilantro replied nonchalantly. Myles gulped down his mouthful of coffee and began cackling uncontrollably. Cilantro gave Myles a concerned look before it was obvious that he was going to be okay.

“Oh, I am not a good influence,” Myles grinned when he recovered, “I’m so sorry you have to deal with someone like me.”

“What? No,” Cilantro said, “If not for you, I would’ve never learned acting and how to stand up tall. I’m indebted to you, y’know.”

“Oh shush,” Myles waved it off, “You know I owe you as much as you do me. If not for you, I would be helpless with magic. But now, we will never overheat or be dehydrated ever again! Water! Water for everyone!”

A bunch of water droplets fell out of the air, landing on Myles’ head. He used one hand to slick his wet hair back and winked at Cilantro. Cilantro chuckled.

“So, if your strength is proven, what will you do?” Myles asked.

“Seek revenge,” Cilantro said as he looked at Myles, gauging his reaction, “I’m going to kill those bastards Mortemiah and Quillon.”

A brief moment of silence followed. Myles raised his eyebrow, “Why are you staring at me like that? Does my hair really look that good?”

“I thought you were going to protest,” Cilantro said, “Aren’t you a no-violence type of guy?”

Myles smiled kindly, “It’s your catharsis, dude. Payback for all the injustice done to you. If anything, I want to give you my blessing. Go get ‘em, tiger!”

Cilantro’s eyes welled up slightly, but he pushed the tears back.

“Thank you so much!” Cilantro said, “If I could jump across this table to hug you, I would!”

“Heh, it’s the least I can do as a friend,” Myles said, blushing.

~~~​

The sky was a deep, rich shade of blue, and it was stiflingly warm, but thankfully, a combination of Solaris’s proximity to the ocean and the cool breeze billowing made standing outside bearable. The large buildings of the port city also cast long shadows on the streets, providing shade for any in need. Already the city was engulfed into the special sort of chaos indicative of Devils Due. Streetcars were parked on the side of the roads, selling all sorts of wares. The presence of the Jokers meant that there were a lot of gunshot sounds**.

Cilantro awkwardly adjusted the high collar of his vampire outfit. He had to admit that Myles did a fantastic job with the creation of such an original costume. It had the perfect balance of dashing and cool. The slick fabric and dark color profile made Cilantro feel confident and powerful as if he really was a vampire waiting to bite down on his prey.

From across the street, Cilantro caught sight of Myles. Unlike Cilantro, Myles had worn what looked like a witch’s costume, fit with the classic pointy hat. Their eyes met, and Myles gave a gracious bow, taking off his hat as he did so. Like always, he had his outdoor magic disguise on to prevent anyone from deciphering his identity as an Argossian.

Cilantro flashed a brilliant smile with a two-fingered peace sign before bouncing over towards him. A burst of bravado filled his voice, and he shouted for all to hear, “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Great Mark Thunder! Miles Rein, your infamy ends today!”

“I say not!” Myles replied with similar bravado. He flicked a few rain droplets at Cilantro, “I will strike you down here and now, and evil shall reign supreme!! Muahahahaha!!!”

Cilantro chuckled, “I am so envious of your acting.”

“Your acting is getting pretty good too,” Myles acknowledged.

“Aww, than-- AHHH!!” Cilantro started, before he screamed. Myles had began to unload bullets from his SMG. His instincts went into overdrive, and he drew several darts from his belt, and in one smooth motion, threw them. Cling, clang, clonk! When Myles stopped firing, not a single bullet had touched Cilantro.

“Impressive,” Myles said, and at that moment, he charged forward, drawing his bastard sword as he did so. His sword swung left and right in an almost blinding flurry of attacks. Left, right, center, right, down, it was impossible to guage where the next attack was going to come from.

Cilantro knew that he needed to disrupt Myles’s attacks, so he tossed a dart with as much force as possible to change the direction of Myles’ attack. But that proved to be fruitless as Myles simply adapted and continued his onslaught.

Cilantro raised his dart wielding hands and did his best to deflect the attacks that were coming at him. He quickly became overwhelmed, and even though he attempted to move back, Myles kept moving forward, preventing him from escaping.

Finally, Cilantro found an opening, and threw his darts, knocking Myles’s sword to the side as well as attacking him directly.

Bang, bang, bang!! Myles drew a handgun, and used it to deflect the darts that had gone at him.

“Welp, that was the only Spirit form technique that I knew,” Myles said as he disengaged from battle. He aimed the gun at Cilantro once more, firing off a few shots, which Cilantro once again deflected almost easily.

“Well, let’s see how well you deal with this,” Myles said, raising what looked like a Gatling gun, “This is what I believe most Jokers call ‘Hot Tofu.’** I don’t think you can deflect this!”

A string of densely cluttered bullets went at Cilantro. This wasn’t something that you could simply dodge or deflect. So instead, Cilantro concentrated. Chi channeling was definitely his weak point in his training due to his problematic temperance. But this time, the bullets simply bounced off of Cilantro’s body as if it were stone.

The bullets from Hot Tofu stopped, and a plume of smoke rose from the gun, covering Myles from view. Based on the awful smell, Hot Tofu must have overheated and became Fried Tofu. From the smoke, Myles suddenly appeared, his bastard sword pointed directly at Cilantro.

With a calm that Cilantro didn’t know he had, he extended a hand which he clenched three darts between his fingers. The darts scraped at the blade of the sword, allowing the blade to pass by Cilantro harmlessly. Now that he was closer to Myles, he pointed his other hand, also with three darts clenched between his fingers, at Myles’ neck.

“That’s a wrap,” Cilantro said with a cheeky grin.

Myles, despite losing, laughed and ruffled Cilantro’s hair, “Well, we have proof that you now have strength. Congratulations, Gnocc-gnocc.”

“Can I stab you?” Cilantro asked, annoyed that Myles would continue to use that name.

Myles laughed again and ignored Cilantro’s question, “Now, all we need to do is get you an audience with Olivii. Then, your revenge lives.”

“Yes, my revenge lives,” Cilantro smiled, a glint of something unnatural in his eyes. He disengaged from Myles, and both of them sheathed their weapons.

“God damn it, Hot Tofu is trash,” Myles said as he punted the gun away. He smiled at Cilantro, “What do you say we go enjoy the festivities?”

Cilantro nodded. He hadn’t considered the festivities involved with Devils Due since his battle with Myles was what he had on his mind. But now that he looked around, there was a lot to do.

“Hey, these things are pretty cool,” Myles said as he rushed to one of the carts. There was a multitude of colorful trinkets, each shimmering with magic.

“Feel free to take a look around,” the woman standing at the cart said, “These are my finest demon-warding charms. Any demon that comes anywhere close to you will fee--”

“These two match really well!” Myles said, picking up two pleasantly flower shaped charms. They had pins on them that allowed them to be stuck on any clothing. One of them was a fiery red, the other a calm, tranquil blue. “What do you say we get these to commemorate your success and our friendship?”

“Hey, these aren’t toys,” the woman said.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Cilantro said, reaching into his purse, “How much do these go for?”

“Why why why, what am I doing with my life,” the woman said, covering her face in her hands, “Selling worthless trinkets? Go on, just take them.”

“Hell yeah!” Myles said. He excitedly got up to Cilantro and pinned the fierce red trinket onto his chest, and then put the blue on his own witch costume.

Cilantro ran his finger down the smooth finish of the trinket. Even if it was worthless, he knew that this would be an everpresent reminder that he had reached his goal. His revenge was alive, and he was coming to get it.


Author's Footnotes:
*Vestiges of a plotline that I had created that would happen in Year III. I never actually did it, because it took place in a secluded village in the Clubs kingdom, and my burnout at the time prevented me from properly describing the scenario. That's why this selfcollab could technically be called Part VIII.
**In a conversation in the Jokers Discord, it was noted that Declan was most likely to bring a bunch of guns to Devils Due.
***From one of Spoiled Bread’s characters

 

[Coyote Hart]

ft. Olivii Nissa
Cilantro's revenge... it lives!!
Kloudy ​

Part VI: A Conviction Realized

Cilantro’s character sheet can be found here. Myles Rein’s character sheet can be found here. I asked Kloudy for Olivii's CS, but he never made one. That's okay. That's alright. I can deal with that. The theme of this part is The Top by Ken Blast

Cilantro was on the top of the world. He was absolutely ecstatic!

They all said he best give it up. What a fool to believe their lies. Now, Cilantro felt the strength to fly like an eagle and strike like a hawk. Those voices that told him to give up, to accept his part as someone weak-- they were wrong. He had just beaten Myles in single combat!

Now, his last step was to get guidance. It was said that Olivii Nissa, a mysterious mage rumored to be one of Durian’s Disciples lived just down the hall of the Joker base. Cilantro needed to talk to her. After all, there were rumors that she simultaneously took down the White Plague and the Ace of Hearts easily.

“It’s like a rush into my brain… I feel you’ll drive me insane~,” Cilantro sang under his breath as he walked down the hall with a pot of freshly brewed coffee, two of Myles’s ceramic cups, and a sprig of dried lilac-- the latter was because Cilantro had a feeling Olivii was a stinky, stinky girl.

Cilantro reached the room that he believed was Olivii’s. He didn’t really know, since the only directions he had gotten were from Cass, and Cilantro definitely could not read the name placards next to the doors.

Rather than knocking like a sane man, Cilantro kicked down the door and declared, “It is I, the Great Mark Thunder! I have come to offer you coffee time!”

Olivii was sat cross-legged in a meditative position, eyes closed with slow and even breathing. It was a calming thing to do, particularly for the health of her mind. It was not entirely necessary for her to be sitting on the ceiling, however, but she had been feeling like switching things up today.

“Great Mark Thunder, it is a pleasure to meet with you,”

She smiled slightly as her rambunctious guest came smashing through her door, although she did not open her eyes. Still apparently glued to the ceiling, Olivii got to her feet and gracefully flipped over to land on her toes, this time at the right orientation to the ground. The whole manoeuvre barely made a sound.

“That’s not my name, it’s Mark,” Cilantro said as he set down the coffee pot and lilac on the table and attempted to fix the door. The door didn’t cooperate, so Cilantro just set it down on the doorframe. “Everyone calls me Cilantro, and you should too. Well, everyone except for Myles, he calls me Gnocchi, but he’s also an idiot.”

“If you don’t mind entertaining me for a bit, I have a lot of things I want to ask you,” Cilantro said as he uninvitedly took a seat at Four’s table, “I hope coffee’s okay with you.”

It was a bit nerve wracking to be in the presence of one of Durian’s Disciples, but Four seemed like a decently normal person. And it wasn’t like he felt too nervous-- Myles’s strategy of embodying an emotion through acting meant that confidence was rushing through his veins, no matter how fake it all was.

Four nodded politely and also took a seat.

“What is it you wish to discuss?” She inquired simply.

Cilantro poured himself and Olivii each a cup of coffee and slid her cup in front of her. He procured from his jean pocket a bottle of honey, which he aggressively added into his coffee. After a long sip of the heavenly dark mixture, Cilantro spoke.

“I heard some rumors around the block,” Cilantro’s sandy eyes practically shined with excitement, “Is it true that in one fell swoop, WHAM--! ”

Cilantro mimed the meteor technique.

“-- you struck down both the Ace of Hearts and the White Plague?” Cilantro finished, expectantly looking at Olivii.

“We certainly had our exchanges during that time,” Olivii raised the cup to her face, peering at Cilantro over the rim, “I did not win that fight, however. If I had, I may not have been sitting here drinking coffee with you.”

“Aww, damn,” Cilantro looked crestfallen, but only for a split second. “But I’m not going to make the same mistake as you did.”

“Kaiden always told me to take losing as a lesson,” Cilantro said, “So tell me what you learned from your loss! I’ve looked up to you for the past four years, I want to know what I can do to exceed even you.”

Four gave him a peculiar look, almost like she was confused and intrigued by what she was hearing. She took a sip of her coffee before setting it down again.

“Are you proclaiming that you wish to battle the Hearts Royalty too?” She arched a quizzical eyebrow questioningly.

“Hell yeah, I am!” Cilantro exclaimed, “All royals are pigs! Except for Cass… he’s a cool guy. But the Heart royalty isn’t who I’m after.”

“I want to finally take my revenge on that wicked bitch and her pupil,” Cilantro said venomously, “And I need your experience for that.”

Four was not particularly convinced by the vagueness of what he believed her ‘experience’ to consist of, but she always enjoyed entertaining others regardless as always.

“I am not certain I could be of much help to you then, Cilantro. I am more powerful than you, I can tell, yet I lost to them. What hope do you harbour in succeeding where I failed?” She smiled politely again, but this time there was a hint of vested interest. Perhaps this little one had even concocted a plan already?

“Ahahaha, that’s a good question,” Cilantro acknowledged. His face fell when he realized that he didn’t have an answer, and he cursed loudly, “Shit.”

Cilantro scoured his brain for an answer to Olivii’s question. The past four years of training were not for nothing, he knew that. So what was the hope that he was looking for?

“Well, I hope that I don’t make as many stupid mistakes as you did, like taking two on at once,” Cilantro said. “If you were going on a one-on-one fight against each of them, would you have lost? The Ace of Hearts would’ve had nothing against your perfect counters. Without the White Plague, the Queen of Hearts would’ve never get as far as she did. And would the White Plague’s Yi Fenca and paralysis magic mean anything if the Queen and Ace weren’t there to back him up? No, heck not.”

“I know that strength isn’t everything. Strength didn’t matter when you suplexed the Ace over your shoulder. Any royal will still die to a bullet to the head,” Cilantro declared, “Technique is everything. I have the technique. I have the range that you lacked--”

To showcase it, Cilantro flicked his hand, and across the room, a dart slammed into the head of Olivii’s bed, in the exact area she would’ve been in had she been sleeping.

“And I have the strength of my friends to back me up. Now, what I need is the techniques you would have used if you could go back in time and do that fight against the Ace, Queen, and White Plague once again,” Cilantro finished, “Spill the beans, lady.”

“Spill the beans…?” A bemused look crossed her features before Olivii extended an open palm out to Cilantro, “May I have one of those?”

Cilantro didn’t know what Olivii was going for, but he reached into his belt and took out another dart and spun it into the air, where it stabbed into the wood of the table-- between the fingers of Olivii’s outstretched hand. The ex-Flushe member plucked the dart from the table with her fingers and inspected it, turning it over in her hand.

"So my techniques are what interests you. I suppose you have never heard of martial arts before, no?" She balanced the tip of the dart on her finger, bouncing it up and down to a rhythm. Despite the down momentum when it fell, the dart failed to actually pierce her skin.

“Actually,” Cilantro said as he flipped a few darts into the air, “I have.”

Cilantro concentrated, a difficult thing for him considering his chaotic temperament. But after years of practice, it came as easy as breathing. The darts, when they came down, bounced harmlessly off of Cilantro’s head, despite the fact that they landed point first.

“Tada!” Cilantro extended his arms, “Thank you for coming to my magic show!”

To further showcase the fruits of his training, Cilantro took one of the darts and slammed it into his arm. Rather than piercing his flesh, the dart’s tip instead shattered.

“I know everything about Stream Breath. In fact, I know everything about your archetype,” Cilantro’s eyes glimmered with an almost insane light as he flashed the ring on his finger at Olivii. It wasn’t his Cirque Delirium Ring, but one of the completed Joker Neutralization Rings. “I am a copycat of you. But if that copycat will help me get my revenge, it’s a good copycat.”

“But what I need to know is your strategy of using Stream Breath against someone like an Ace,” Cilantro said, “How do you fight back against someone so much more physically and magically stronger than you? I need to know where you get your courage. And since you lost, how would you avoid repeating your same mistakes?”

Four seemed to ponder that a moment, placing a finger to her lip and gazing at the ceiling in thought. At the time she hadn't really been thinking about it, her body just moved on it's own.

"I suppose I can share the specifics of my battle with them, but it would be simpler if I were to demonstrate it." She looked back to Cilantro with a more neutral expression.

“Heck yeah, I get to see one of Durian’s Disciples in action!” Cilantro exclaimed as he chugged down the rest of his coffee.

"You seem to be mistaken. It is Dorian's Disciples, with an 'oh'." Olivii responded, witnessing his ability to inhale the coffee with mild interest.

Cilantro choked on his coffee, and he leaned over the edge of his seat, coughing forcefully. Finally, when he was able to speak again, he said with a hoarse voice, “Wait, you don’t worship fruit?”

Olivii shook her head curtly, apparently unfazed by this admittedly ridiculous assumption, "No, I worship Dorian, Hand of Control. He is responsible for securing all the natural laws of our realms."

“That’s cool, that’s cool,” Cilantro said, not really taking the time to think about what it meant. He picked up the dried lilac at the table and said, “I’m really sorry about these flowers then.”

Cilantro felt embarrassment begin to rise up inside him, and he tried to think back on Myles’ lessons on acting. If you want to show a certain emotion, you embody it. If you don’t, discard it. Cilantro tried his best to discard the embarrassment. There was nothing wrong with it! Just a little misunderstanding! Besides, it was funny that he thought Olivii would smell like durians from worshipping them and that he needed lilacs to ward off the smell.

“So, can I see the demonstration now?” Cilantro asked, drinking the last of his coffee. He got up from his seat and pushed in the chair.

"Of course." Olivii also rose from her chair and stepped to the side, tucking hers under the table too. She made her way to the centre of her room and assumed a basic defensive stance, knees bent with her body side-facing Cilantro.

"Attack me with your fists, if you would."

Eager to see where this would go, Cilantro lashed out with his fist, throwing a sucker-punch at Olivii’s chest.

Similarly to how she disarmed Twig at the Battle of Valencia, Olivii grabbed Cilantro's wrist and held it to the side. Meanwhile, her other hand grabbed his throat and lifted him into the air. Cilantro's eyes widened, but he grinned, titillated by the memory of a certain scenario four years ago. She held this position for a second before placing him down on the floor and releasing him.

"The man dressed in white attacked me in a similar fashion but with a sword. As you can see, his style depended on aggressive speed and dexterous skill, making it easy for a Stream Breath user to shut him down and counter."

“So speed shouldn’t be too much of an issue then,” Cilantro mused.

She got into a defensive stance once more.

"Attack again, this time from above."

Excitedly, Cilantro climbed on top of the table and leaped at Olivii, his fist striking downward at her. Once again she grabbed Cilantro by the wrist, this time rolling backward herself with him in tow. With a foot placed against his abdomen, she launched the man behind her into the wall and swiftly rolled back into her defensive stance.

"I used the Ace of Hearts' strength and momentum against him. He soon realised that close-range combat was disadvantageous and engaged me from a distance. I lost soon thereafter." She instructed, combing a hand through her long straight hair. She exited her stance and took a seat at the table once more.

Cilantro slammed into the wall of Olivii's room, although while the air was knocked out of him, he also laughed cheerfully. From what it seemed, no matter the strength and speed of the attacker, as long as they were in range, Cilantro would have the upper hand.

Cilantro picked himself up from the wall and walked back to the table, flopping down onto his seat. He poured himself another cup of coffee and stirred in some honey.

"So what you're telling me is that long range is bad," Cilantro said, "And that I should utilize my darts if that scenario comes."

Thank goodness the more powerful of Cilantro's enemies didn't have any ranged capabilities. Add to that, his speed and power would not give him the upper hand in the fight. The weaker of the two did, and that would probably prove problematic.

"Better yet, I should end the fight as soon as it starts," Cilantro mused, "Hm… paralysis?"

"In the end you lost," Cilantro noted, "How? What can I learn from your mistakes?"

Olivii shrugged, stirring a sugar into her coffee to lighten the taste, “My abilities are not suited to long range combat. If you think of it as a strategy game, they took advantage of a tactical weakness. While Stream Breath does have the propensity to block or deflect ranged attacks, fundamentally I cannot counterattack off it.”

She gestured to Cilantro’s darts as an example, “Even those are just mitigation to the drawbacks of our defensive style. One cannot return retribution instantly from a distance.”

The logic behind Stream Breath combat strategy was to wait for an opponent to attack to launch one of your own. The basic concept of attack and defence is subverted as a Stream user combines the two in one swift movement. While this usually relies on one’s opponent to make the first move and act aggressively, a counterattack cannot be executed if the opponent is not within range. Lacking mobility and offensive capability, it becomes increasingly obvious that keeping a distance or simply refusing to attack are surefire ways to counter the defensive martial art style. A Stream Breath user likely will not attack first, nor will they possess the skills to chase down an opponent. Olivii was attempting to convey to Cilantro that the reason she lost was due to the fact that she could not close the distance to her enemy, leaving them free to attack without fear of being countered.

“As you may be able to tell, simply removing threats is not enough. One must always search for that opportunity to exploit weakness.” It was true for both Stream Breath users and for Olivii’s opponents, who had done just that to her.

“So I need to avoid giving them the opportunity to run off and attack at long range,” Cilantro commented, “Or, if I could take them down immediately, that would work, no?”

Cilantro winced. He was going against a Queen, obviously he couldn’t rely on an immediate takedown.

“If you can quickly end the fight, then that is for the best. However, if you cannot and your enemy figures out that they just need to retreat…” Olivii took another sip of her coffee, staring into its swirling pools of dark brown murkiness. She didn’t know how Cilantro planned to prevent his opponents from running away. Stream Breath taught no high-movement techniques nor anything remotely offensive, both things that would be instrumental in preventing retreat.

“So movement is an issue,” Cilantro commented, “Yikes. I assume you were more of a protectorate of the Royal Flushe and you never intended to kill somebody, unlike me.”

Olivii shrugged once more, “I do as I am commanded.”

Cilantro bit at his nails, which he knew was rude in the presence of others, especially at a coffee table, so he quickly stopped and picked up his coffee. After a long sip, where he didn’t think of any solutions due to his dumb brain, Cilantro looked to Olivii for advice.

“So, what would you suggest?” Cilantro asked.

“Turn to magic for a solution,” She responded simply, “Something to complement your short range of combative influence.”

“But don’t chi and magic not mix well?” Cilantro noted, “My magic is also… complete trash. It’s worthless.”

To demonstrate, Cilantro lit a small fire in his hand. After a few seconds, the strain was too much, and he extinguished it.

“I do not suffer from any drawbacks to using both,” Olivii admitted, shaking her head slightly to confirm it, “Then perhaps the use of enchanted weaponry may aid you, if you possess the funding.”

“Well, I got this,” Cilantro waved around his ring, “Which is slowly running out of juice… can you put in more mana please?”

Cilantro took a few sips of his coffee, with his ring hand outstretched, as he thought about what to do. During the first Lok Klang New Year he celebrated with Myles, where his birthday so happened to coincide with, Myles had given him a high quality dart: The Emperor of Jokers. Even now, with the dart nestled around so many other darts, Cilantro could feel its weight. That was likely the best piece of weaponry that he owned. Perhaps… perhaps he could get that enchanted?

“I think I could get something done,” Cilantro said. If only he could get someone as powerful as an ace to enchant it, he could stand at even footing with his enemies.

Olivii nodded along with his musing, delicately taking his hand in hers to pass mana through the ring. Enchantment was not something she was particularly knowledgeable about, so she was content to let Cilantro figure it out for himself.

“So if I got this all,” Cilantro tried to commit everything to memory, since he didn’t know how to write, “The enemy’s speed and strength mean nothing if I’m on the defensive, I need to make sure to prevent the enemy from fleeing, and I should keep fights as short as possible. Probably through the use of magic. Did I get everything?”

Olivii nodded and withdrew her hands from his, “I would not become overconfident in my skill. We have techniques that can deal with stronger and faster opponents, but that does not mean we are immune to them.”

“Yes, thank you,” Cilantro said, “And thank you for sitting with me for coffee.”

Cilantro stood up and began to leave, but then he stopped in his tracks and looked back at Olivii.

“Olivii? One last thing,” Cilantro commented, “I was asked to request that you participate in this Joker event thing in the future. It’s called the Night of the Dragon. I promise it’ll be interesting, but I don’t know much about it. Can you help out?”

Olivii smiled back at him with a short wave, “Of course - if it proves to be of any fun.”

“I heard that it’s packed full of fun,” Cilantro said.

As Cilantro left Olivii’s room, he chuckled. Things were going according to plan. This time, when he would meet the True Queen once again, he wouldn’t be the pathetic little kid that had almost gotten executed four years ago.

He was also one step closer to his revenge. One step closer to making those accursed Spade royals pay for making him live in a literal hellhole.

“Quillon, Mortemiah,” Cilantro’s eyes glimmered with insanity, “I’m gonna whoop your asses.”

 

[EmeraldSplash]

Flowers bloom all in different times surrounded by various disparities, but who is the one to decide when is the right time flourish? Is it nature? Could be… Well… it probably is. However since we are creatures of curiosity, we all want and need to ask ourselves the same question every time something is explained. ‘’What if there’s more.’’ We should, must and need to ask for we are human and to be human is, to ask. If moon rises every night then there must be an explanation and that explanation should be followed by ‘’What if there’s more’’...

- - -​

A small house by a small city stood tall and those who knew who lived there, knew that this was a gentle place. Always ready to accept and suit any visitor. Arabella Turner was the name that many in the city knew. It was also the name of the owner of that small house by that small city. They knew that she was an affable soul, that Arabella was sometimes shy, sometimes loud and sometimes bitter. However no amount of bitterness could persuade these people otherwise. She was indeed an affable person. With all the sweetness and deadly innocence the citizens would never even think about a possibility that this person has killed and lied many times. For that was the way of the assassins.

The sun shone through a small window, covering the girl with a sweet, soothing sunshine. The light covered everything but her head and so she imagined as if she was wearing a golden dress. And with closed eyes she put a book, which she was reading, down on a wooden table. A deep exhale was let out as she placed her hands on her hair which shone in the color of a mahogany. Arabella’s eyes then opened as she reacted to a sound that she heard, something or someone was sneaking around her house?!
Her green eyes focused and she tried to see the cause of this sound while leaning out of the window. But alas, she saw nothing.

Noticeably frustrated she stormed out of the house and stood on a wooden porch. A swift movement was heard behind her and as a reaction she picked up a rock from the ground. At first, she checked it’s weight and when it felt suitable, she awaited next movement. The girl wasn’t really scared for she knew that if someone was there to kill her, they wouldn’t wait this long. They wouldn’t play with her like this.

‘’Hmph’’ She smirked as she turned rapidly as soon as she heard the porch-wood creak a little bit. And with one quick motions she threw the rock at her target.

‘’Ouch! … Aaargh’’ A boy got hit with the rock straight between his eyes. He was lucky the rock wasn’t big.

Arabella started laughing, for she recognized Philip staring at her angrily while he held his forehead. ‘’Gotcha!’’ she stated playfully.

‘’That hurt Zinnie…’’ The boy said in quite an angered state.

‘’Excuse me? You snuck up on me!’’

‘’Well yes, but … nevermind. I need to sit down.’’ Philip walked slowly and then found a rock that he sat on, all while Zinnie was just looking at him confused. Although she was curious to hear why did he sneak up on her, she didn’t give it a second thought and sat on a different rock, a bigger one. They looked at each other for a little and then the boy uttered: ‘’Why are you sitting so far away? Am I supposed to shout?’’

‘’My hearing is fine Philip, don’t you worry. However my brain is probably not, considering the fact that I cannot think of any particular reason for you to come and visit me. Do you mind explaining yourself?’’

‘’I have discovered something and I want you to have it. It’s something that holds great power and has beneficial value for your whole body’’

‘’Something that wasn’t yet discovered?!’’ This sent shivers down her spine. ‘’What is it?’’

‘’Well’’ he reached into his leather bag that he brought with him. And suddenly ‘’Catch!’’ he threw an apple aiming above zinnie therefore when she tried to catch it, she fell backwards on the ground.

The pain caused by the fall was nothing in comparison with the shame she felt from letting him do this to her. To bait her like this.

‘’Arghhhh!’’ With quick jump to her feet she started slowly walking towards the boy in a menacing manner. ‘’You sneaky little..’’ she lunged herself at him, tackling him to the ground and pinning him with her body. ‘’You think it’s funny huh?’’

‘’You need to have a little bit of fun in your life Zinnie’’ he smiled.

‘’Fun is just a tool for people like you to pass the time so you don’t have to focus on other people. Because your kind only cares about themselves…’’

‘’Well I think about you even when I have fun Zinnie.’’ In that moment his and her eyes met and shame rose in her. She stood up, letting him go immediately so she could turn around and hide that little blush of hers.

‘’Are you … okay? I didn’t mean to offend you or like you know…’’

‘’It is no trouble, you are free to leave now.’’ she said with her back turned.

‘’Look at this first’’ Philip said, grabbing a bottle of sorts from the bag.

‘’Hm? What is that?’’ she came closer.

‘’Liquor.’’ The way he said it was as he was boasting. That’s what unsettled Zinnie.

‘’Where did you get it?’’ The girl crossed her arms, awaiting an answer.

‘’Well maybe I stumbled on it by accident while I was roaming the streets of this beautiful city.’’

‘’Where?’’

‘’I came across like a storage of sorts so I snuck in and this was there! Isn’t it just perfect?’’

It was apparent that Philip knew more than he was telling Zinnie and she knew it, however she did not push herself enough to make him spill everything he knows. And so she brushed it off, it was getting late and she hasn’t eaten anything for a long time…

‘’Give me the bottle and go’’

‘’But…’’

She pulled out a dagger from her boot, not to hurt him but to scare him enough that he would not come back for a couple of days.

‘’I said… Go!’’
And it worked… As always.


Arabella returned inside and prepared wood inside the fireplace. However her belly let out a horrifying sound of pure hunger and so she treated herself with a little bit of bread. After that she ignited the fire and cooked some fish that she bought on the market place the other day.

A sigh was let out ‘’A storage, so he got it in a storage… yea, like that makes sense. He stumbled on a random storage… Whatever. I guess I shouldn’t sweat it… It’s just a bottle of liquor’’

Couple of minutes passed. The fish was eaten and Zinnie lied in her bed.

She couldn’t sleep for she was troubled. The girl looked at the bottle sitting on her table.

… ‘’What if there’s more to it?’’

 

[LazyDaze]

BLACKJACKED
X: @ME
FREY: Colorless Spectrum

The infamous year long festival raged on in the city of dreams, Erylon. The smell of freshly baked desserts, and the sounds of carriages being drawn to a good time helped the city live up to its name. Under this night sky, you would be hard pressed to find the line dividing reality from the surreal. The city itself was in constant motion. They were so busy they didn’t even have much time to stop and acknowledge their honorary guest and Casino/city owner, Xixix Valentine. Off to the East of the city, was a large building that served as the most famous Casino in all of Clover Kingdom, “Valentine Garden”, obviously named after King Valentine. The popularity of the casino skyrocketed, under his oversight and never looked back since.


“King Valentine, welcome, we have secured a section for you and your guest,” a much older individual stated with a knowing smile. He wore an eyepatch, and stood about as tall as X. He bowed before attempting to take X’s jacket.


“Call me X,” X replied while declining the older man’s offer. To say he was late was an understatement. A HUGE understatement. He had been briefed on the intent to capture a royal seat in the club kingdom; however (and there is no nicer way to frame this), he forgot about it. X was supposed to meet up with the potential royal 3 years ago. To be frank, X’s memory was not as bad as it was selective, and he didn’t really care about things he had no control of. If the Jokers wanted a plant, they would have to participate in the tourney like everyone else. They said they had someone in mind, but that they were still training, and X agreed, the end. At least, X believed that’s how it should have ended. X walked through a couple who was about to make out, bumping them both out the way without apologizing. The man was about to say something, but quickly realized who he was. X paid them no mind, for he was trying to remember this poor plebs name. “Aldin Freak, Aloha Fresh?” He made it to the top floor of the building where some very high stake games were being played and made his way to the royal section where Frey would be guided upon arrival. It wasn’t often that he was the one waiting for someone, but to be fair, he was a few years late.


Finally. It was the day that he would meet the King of Clubs. He was promised to meet the man a few years back but it didn't pull through. Frey has been briefed of the plan after Xixix Valentine met up with the leader of the Jokers, White Plague and True Queen, three years ago. He was told that he would be made a candidate for Jack of Clubs. So it was important to him that he'll make a good impression with the King of Clubs.


"Good day, sir." Frey greeted an old individual who looked like he knew his way around the place as he wore the uniform of a staff. "I have a meeting with King Valentine." The older man gave him a suspicious look, must be because of his odd scar. He didn't bother hiding, like with the Jokers. He only puts glamour on his face during missions as his scar would make him easily recognizable. Make-up would also work but it can be such a hassle sometimes. "I am Adelleid Frey." He said his name, to which the man took note off and escorted him to where X was.

"Follow me, Sir Frey." Most people think that Frey is his surname, but in all actuality he doesn't have one. He doesn't mind though, he doesn't even bother to correct people.

Suffice to say, Frey found his surroundings to be interesting. The jollies if the gamblers filled his ears, he smiled. He also liked risks. Clover Kingdom was known for the entertainment that it provides. He had always liked the idea of it.


"King Valentine is in this room." The man said before taking his leave and Frey gave a hurried thank you. He breathed deep and exhaled as he opened the door, a warm smile quickly formed on his lips. His white hair was tied neatly to the back, giving a good view to his features, his scar and blood red eyes.


His suit was crisp, dark in color and a contrast to his white gloves and shoes. Costed him quite a few. "A pleasure to finally meet you, King Valentine."


“Yo,” was all X said with a half hearted salute as he leaned back against the plush sofa. However, his casual demeanor betrayed the fact that X did a quick once over of the would be Jack. He looked pretty capable in a fight, and if his current appearance was any indication of his ability to put on airs for royals, then he would pass with flying colors in that regard. However, the nobles would probably be glad to have almost anyone after dealing with X over the past few years.


Without taking his eyes off of Frey, X motioned for the two mages guarding the area to leave them be. “Not going to lie, I totally thought you were going to be a chick,” X said with a raised brow as he stood to his full height to extend a hand while his other rested in his pocket. “Oh well have a seat, and just call me X. Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about,” X stated ignorantly, forgetting he was supposed to be the one initiating the conversation about Frey’s path to becoming Jack and anything else X wanted to know about him.


Frey relaxed more visibly when the guards had finally gone, a chuckle escaped his lips as X offered his assumptions about him. "Not to worry, most people think the same." The Joker took a seat, taking note of his wishes and respects it. "Well, X," Frey's tone was more casual than earlier as the man seemed like too chill of a person to care about being called "King," and "Your Clubship."


"We both know that I haven't studied for Royal Education. The only problem that we will be dealing with me becoming a candidate for Jack. Are the forged documents prepared?" He started off, taking a seat opposite to X. “We’ll need to look for an advisor to help me as Jack, and I’ll be needing information on the current one for my fight.” He acted like a businessman, straight to what is needed to be discussed. He looked at X with questioning eyes, wondering how his impression to the man was so far.


X scratched his chin for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. A small lady, likely no taller than 4’ 9” practically drove her food cart beside X. He lifted the plate cover to reveal that it was not a turkey, but in fact, a document stating that Frey had completed his royal education. He took the documents and examined them himself. He then gave a nod to the chef and she was off serving some of the other mages down below before one could even blink.


“First things first, what we have here is a perfect forgery. Please put it to good use, I had to lie to my assistant to get my hands on that,” X said as he passed it along to Frey.


“As for an advisor, with my number one assistant currently occupied with a ridiculous endeavor. I’ll have to lend you the next best thing.” X reached into his pocket and pulled out a rubber duck with a drawn on mustache, top hat, and a plastic monocle. X placed it out on the table before him without changing his expression and set his gaze upon it as if it were actually speaking.


“...Well said Professor Duck. The pleasure is ours I’m sure,” X said as he then turned his eyes to Frey, motioning for him to introduce himself. The story behind this duck stemmed from a meeting he was set to have with a few prominent nobles, regarding the Argossian forces. He somehow got their permission to have Iris in the meeting, but they took a hard stand against letting her speak. Left without an assistant he brought a rubber duck as his chief advisor, and well...they never complained about Iris again. One must still wonder why he is still talking to it....


With a snap of his fingers, a woman suddenly appeared. It was a surprise to Frey as he saw the plate and cover, he wondered what kind of food was beneath it and it X was willing to share. He remembered that he hadn't eaten at all because he was quite nervous and would most likely barf. Imagine his disappointment when the cover was lifted and all he saw was a document.


He didn't know how to react to that betrayal. Now Frey can't help but think of food. "Ah," The scar-faced man took the forged document and examined it. "Amazing, it doesn't seem forged at all." He said in amazement but he still can't forget that this very piece of paper was inside the platter instead of real food.


At the mention of "advisor." Red eyes awaited in anticipation.


"Quack." The first thing that came to Frey's mind. He can't hide the shock on his face. Was X being serious right now? He can never tell. He can't figure out the man that's for sure, but he'll play along with his game.


A smile formed in his lips, he didn't expect but X is truly different from the other nobles. "A pleasure to meet you, Professor Duck. My name is Adelleid Frey." He said with bright eyes at the rubber duck then to the King of Clubs. "Nevertheless, we can't put all the work to your advisor or to Professor Duck here. Do you have someone else in mind that can handle the economy of the Kingdom?" Behind the smiles, Frey wondered if it was alright that their leader made an alliance with him.


...He went along with it, this was truly a man of culture. “Oh, this is my advisor...I wanted his advice on an advice giver to assign you...to give advice..oh what’s that Professor? Hmm, I suppose that could work.” X took his rubber duck and placed back inside his jacket pocket. “Me and the Professor have decided that Gregory Unsworth will be your advisor. He helps with my finances, and he’s probably the smartest man I know besides Professor Duck.” In reality, this Mr. Unsworth, was the official president of his black ops organization Zero, well at least until they met with X on important matters.


“You’ve met him before, at the entrance,” X said casually as he began searching for something else within his jacket while speaking. “I wouldn’t worry too much about appealing to the nobles. After the war, we lost several strong mages. If you’re strong enough, they’ll overlook any discrepancies. Moreover, when Iris gets back, she can handle anything you’re unsure about, just don’t tank our economy. Ah there it is,” X pulled out a turkey leg from the other side of his jacket. It was a wonder how he didn’t find it sooner. Unwilling to reveal himself, he would tear off pieces and then drop it inside his mask so that he could eat without exposing his identity.


“Before we get to the matter of the Jack, what kind of powers do you, damn that’s good, what powers do you possess?”


"Excellent then!" Frey took a mental note of the man's name and his appearance from earlier as the King has put away his royal aadvisor. He was never really interested in appealing to the nobles, not all of them are worth appealing to. But this Iris person that X has spoken of, it was the first time the name was mentioned and he assumes that this very person was the "number one assistant" from earlier.


"Don't worry, I plan on doing no such thing." He watched as X pulled out a turkey from his pocket. He blinked and asked himself how the fuck did the turkey fit in his pocket but he wouldn't ask. What's more, X refuses to take off his mask to eat the turkey and opted to drop it instead. Now the question in his mind is, does he wash it?


He pushed those questions down and locked it up. He doesn't even want to know the answer to it. "Well, I can use blood magic and illusion magic. I could show you a few of the things that I can do, if you want."


X was silent for a moment, partly due to the fact that he had literally bitten off more than he could chew. When he finally conquered, the giant piece of turkey X coughed a few times, before answering Frey. “Hmm, blood and illusion magic? Sure, do your worst, but try to keep me alive, or I’ll have to resort to haunting your bathroom for the rest of your life.”


The silence was excruciating. Silence never really sat well with him, reminded him of his old home after his mother died and all of his siblings gone. X choked, surprising Frey once again to which he noted to himself to stop being surprised around X anymore. He stood up, eager to show what he can do. He started off with a simple glamour, from top to bottom his appearance slowly changed into a feminine version of himself. Long white hair and red eyes. Much like one of his younger sisters.


His voice even changed into something more feminine sounding, something he has been working on the past few years. "Don't I look pretty?" He asked sweetly but rhetorical, the suit even changed into a simple dress.


"Just one of the few things I can do with illusion. Most that I can do affects the eyes, I focused on getting better with my blood magic." As a demonstration, Frey took a knife, slashing his palm and bended his own blood. His wound slowly closed, while the thick red liquid floated in mid air.


"I can create blood-puppets with blood," He started forming the shape of a little man with his blood. "I can amplify my strength with it, use blood as a whip, a bomb that explodes into sharp spikes, and solidify it into a weapon that I can use in battle." The blood then formed into a shuriken, one that he threw at the dart board in the room.


Frey sat down with a smile, his glamour gone, scarred face and all. "If you have more questions I'll be more than happy to answer, so long as I can provide the answer that you ask for." He stuck the fingers of his hands together and continued, "But you'll have to tell me about yourself too. We're in this together, why not know each other." He proposed smoothly, and is expecting the unexpected with the antics that X pulled since they met, how can he not?


X watched impassively as Frey demonstrated his different abilities, and even went on to provide brief explanations. His face scrunched up when Frey returned to his original form. “...Could you like, do the boob thing again, ah nevermind, no further questions for now. I only care if you’re strong enough to win.” X said as shaking his head as he tried to forget the image of a female Frey. The other abilities were pretty impressive as well, but he saw nothing as promising as his ability to change his appearance for unknown reasons.


X was surprised, although he did hold on to his trademark blank face, when Frey asked to know about him. It was something he never really did, his past was pretty uneventful after all. He leaned back and scratched his chin, unsure of what he wanted to divulge, if anything. X then held his hand out to his side, revealing a floating green dice. “Given the law of equivalency, I will divulge my magic. I guarantee you haven’t seen anything like it. Let’s just hope it doesn’t land on 10.” If it did, then most of the casino would likely be destroyed. It only took a second, but it landed on a 2 and a gigantic blade, 6 foot in length, and a few feet wide, appeared in his hand. He handled it easily, propping it on his shoulder as if it were made of paper despite its massive weight and size.


“This is Oathbreaker, I haven’t come across anything it can’t cut. With a little more application I can multiply the number of strikes it can perform with a single swing. In close combat, you’d probably die if you didn’t know this.” X then pointed the blade in Frey’s direction and shut one of his eyes as if aiming at something just past him. “With a little more application, I could easily cut this building in half...probably," X said casually as if he was pondering whether or not he should attempt such a feat at this very moment. “I’d probably lose a shit ton of money though.”


X dispelled his weapon, crossing one leg over the other before continuing. “But this is not my true ability; my true ability allows me to summon a number of weapons at random. All of them have different abilities and serve a different purpose, so I had to learn to adapt to anything. However, my abilities are inconsequential here since I’m already a King...I was drunk, don’t ask.”


X pondered if he should ask any questions, considering he was dealing with one of those know about your past types. “...Any particular reason they chose you,” X asked with a raised brow. He had a hard time believing that they chose a random pleb to take a royal seat; rather, he hoped they hadn’t.


Frey cocked his head to the side as X asked him to "do the boob thing" again and stared questioningly. He would ask why but the King had already dismissed the request and spouted about the law of equivalency.


X also provided demonstrations and explanations of his power. It was interesting for sure, how he is at the mercy of what power his dice, or ability in general provides. Frey has settled on how he sees X as, strangely odd man but powerful nonetheless.


"Jokers mostly consist of low rankers, there's not much over the rank of 9. It helped that I fit the part." Frey started with a little smile on his face, his hands were now crossed to his chest as he leaned back. "Once a slave, traded off to the Spades Kingdom. I was bought by a noble family, I lived there for a couple of years before getting myself kicked out. I come home and I find out that my mother is dead and all my siblings are traded off to…" He clenched his teeth, shaking slightly as anger filled him.


Then for a split second he realized what he was doing, "But enough about that!" He said chirpily, the anger was still there but it didn't show on his face. "So, a casino huh? Do you join in on the fun? A game of Black Jack once in a while?"


X supposed it should have been obvious; the Jokers only had a select few who could take on the task of dethroning a royal. He then braced himself for the answer to his next question. It was no doubt something pretty heinous, and knowing the propensity of those blessed by the rules of society to ignore the cursed, he was certain it wouldn’t be pleasant. As expected, it was a heart wrenching tale of death and separation. He was unsure of Spade Kingdom slave laws, but the entire premise of owning someone else was strange. Nevertheless, X did not miss the outlets of anger the composed Frey was seemingly projecting. Most likely imagining himself back into that hell. Just as quickly, he returned to his normal mask, not unlike the one X wore beneath the one of cloth; a mask of the heart. One thing about being a phony, it was easy to spot one of your own. X allowed the conversation to be flipped on his head, preferring this one to any chance of mutual wound licking.


“...I probably have the best poker face in all of Club Kingdom,” X said matter of factly. “...Speaking of BlackJack, how about we play a game,” X said more of a statement rather than a question. He called over a man that was a few inches shorter than himself. He had strange colored eyes, somewhere between green and yellow, and his hair was jet black underneath his fedora. He took out a deck of cards and placed them on a nearby table. X stood up and motioned for Frey to follow them. “You know the rules I presume, and don’t worry about Yellow over here, he’s harmless.”


Frey let out a low chuckle. "Funny. I was just about to suggest the same thing." A toothy grin spread across his face. "Of course, I've played a few games myself." He stood up and followed X to what he would assume to be a game room for their friendly little match.


My friend here would like to play an honest game of blackjack, of course I’ll be joining in. Yellow nodded and then took out a fresh deck of cards. He then performed a complicated shuffle as if it was second nature and then began to lay the cards down. He passed out the cards, starting with X who received a 3 of diamonds, and an Ace Hearts. His total could be 14, or 4 depending on how you looked at it. Frey received an Ace of diamonds and a 6 of spades. The dealer, Yellow, had a Queen and a face up card. He began with Frey.


“What would you like to do,” he asked in a smooth deep voice, his Yellow eyes unmoved.


“You know how to play right,” X said with just a slight hint of concern in his voice.


His smile never faded, it was still there. Sweet, but not really. Frey likes to think that he has a good hold of his emotions, especially when displaying it how and when he wants to. “Of course.” Frey gave his card a once over, and he can’t go over twenty-one. “Stand.” He said, motioning for the appropriate hand signal.


The dealer nodded and then barely turned to X before he had already motioned for him to keep going lol. “Hit me,” X said rather quickly. The dealer took one card, placing it next to the other two, revealing it to be a Queen which brought X back to 14 since the Ace could be counted as either 1, or 11.


“Do you-,”


“Hit me.”


The dealer obliged, however, his next card was a 10 and he went over. Despite this, his face never changed. It was the dealer’s turn to play. He revealed a 3 to go along with his Queen, and then drew a King.


“It would seem Frey has won, congrats,” he said with a soft smile before grabbing the cards to begin a new game.


“Beginners luck,” X said playfully in the form of a question. “You know...they say lightning doesn’t strike in the same place twice. The person who said that is probably dead..” X stared at the shuffling deck for a moment, before pulling out a piece of paper, that was no doubt a little greasy due to being stuffed next to a turkey leg, and began scribbling something down. “Let’s make this game a bit more interesting than the first. Place your bet, and I’ll place mine. I’m willing to bet my entire estate, my assistant, and the mask on my face...oh and the last two eggs in my storage.” He kissed the note with the recorded bets, and then slid it to the dealer. Yellow then turned to Frey, placing his deck down with a sense of finality, or ominousness.

“Your bet?”


Frey winked at the dealer while wearing a charming smile. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." He said in retaliation in being called having beginners luck, giving a polite shrug. He wondered what was the King of Clubs scribbling on a greasy piece of paper.


It came as a shock, really. Who would bet their estate, assistant… mask and last eggs on a round of Blackjack. Then again, this is X. "If you're sure." Frey said with a smile. He'll go along with it. He whipped out his revolver from his holster, "I don't have much but I'm going to bet my revolver, two hand grenades, and all my money. It's not much as an entire estate, your assistant, mask and last two eggs but it's all that I have." The smile never left his face as he stared at X. "Shall we start?"


X gave a nod to Yellow, who began shuffling the deck, just as he had before. X was still leaning back in his chair, unconcerned about the outcome of this match while a talented female vocalist began singing an upbeat song. This drew an already crazy crowd into a borderline frenzy.


“You know, it is important to be able to take risks. Playing it safe kills you faster,” X started as the dealer passed a Jack and a 10 to Frey, giving him a total of 20; however, X’s face had never changed. “But sometimes, you need to create your own luck since fate has a horrible sense of humor.”


"I agree. Fate has a way of throwing you to the side and laughing at you.” Frey said with slight solemnity, knowing it all too well. His eyes moved to X, watching him if his face would give a slight twitch in the eye of a scrunch of the nose but there was none.


Yellow passed X a 4 and a 7 to X. X motioned for him to draw another card; it was a 3. He asked for him to draw another card, it was another 3. One more was drawn, and it was a 3 again...giving him a total of 20. X stood up from the chair, and began to walk to view the performance from above. Meanwhile, Yellow gave a sly grin to Frey.


“Just between us, unless you want to lose, I would settle for the tie.” Yellow punctuated the statement by giving a quick flip through the remaining deck of cards as if he controlled their very fate...and he did. The truth was that Yellow could heighten all of his senses, so much in fact, that he could feel the weight of the cards. Once he memorized a shuffle, he could guess where certain cards would be based on the feel of the deck and draw them accordingly. He had always been a card mechanic, earning money on the streets before X hired him. If he had his way, he could get BlackJack anytime he wanted. Obviously, he had rigged this game so that no one could go over 20. Should they draw after reaching 20, they would automatically bust. Even if he was accused of cheating, you could hardly prove it. He gave a wink, tipping his fedora as well while he pushed Frey’s “bet” back toward him. “Enjoy your stay.”


Frey could see what this is. Amusing. He won't argue, as much tempting a free estate, an assistant and whatnot may sound like, he's glad he ain't losing money though. He had a defeated smile on his face, “Thanks for the tip, cutie, it was a good game so I’m not complaining much.”


Frey collected his items before following X, leaving Yellow with a sincere thank you for the game. “This is quite the casino.” He said to the King of Club, “Are you treating your employees well?” A question that has been on his mind for a while, the masked man is odd for sure. Can’t help but wonder how his people think of him.


“...Hmm, not sure,” X turned to look at Yellow who was placing cards back into an empty box. “Looks healthy so I guess so.” X said, turning back to the female singer for a bit before reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out yet another turkey leg, handing it to Frey without second thought.


“The person you’re up against, his name is Regina Gary. I’ve had the pleasure of sparring with him a few times.” X gave a glance to Frey, just to be sure he was paying attention while he continued. “...He uses Dyssidia, be prepared to have a hard time utilizing mana. He also has three annoying dogs, but I’ve always bribed one with a treat. You’ll know him when you see him. Fortunately, I didn’t have to reveal all my abilities to him and I got a pretty good roll, but he’s still a tough bastard. Don’t go in half cocked; I wasn’t instructed to pay your hospital bills.” X then turned around to lean back on the rail and face Frey.


“I know it’s for a good cause, but you’re getting an opportunity that others would die to have without having to put the effort in. Don’t screw up, or I’ll kill you……...HA, of course I’m kidding Freddy! Anything else you would like to know, if not, I say we join the rest of the city. We’re standing out like...hm...a giant wyrm.” Only gods knew if X was really joking or not, but anyone who wouldn’t lose the color of their face during that game of blackjack must have balls of steel. He supposed he could count on someone like that.


Frey let out a small smile and looked back to the singer. Seeing the turkey that was offered to him, he accepted and he thought maybe X isn’t always what he seemed to be but the red-eyed Joker still thinks that the man is crazy. No matter what. He looked back at the turkey, it looked delicious and he's glad to be finally able to eat it but it came from X's pocket. Was it safe to eat? Maybe not. Does he care right now? Of course not.


He took a bite. "This is good." Frey approved, or he was that hungry that it tastes so good to his taste buds. He listened to X explain about his future opponent. The name Regina made him think deep in thought if this was one of his siblings. Elijah's twin Regina, the second and third born of the family, it didn’t help that the mentioned name was exactly like his sister’s but reversed. But the very moment that X said the pronoun 'he' made him question if Regina is the actual name.


He let out a sigh, a solemn smile on his face. Whether the man in front of him was truly joking or not does not matter to him as he is quite thankful for the opportunity. "Don't worry. I don't plan on wasting this opportunity, I won't just be helping the Jokers achieve their goal but I can also help the low ranks too."


He looked back at X, a genuine smile on his face. "I'd be more than glad to." The meeting went swimmingly well, this is a good day for Frey so he's going to enjoy it. He is in the Kingdom of entertainment after all.

 

[Lyth]

Vinna

The last year of Vinna’s life had been rife with changes that had left her feeling as though her time traveling around with her parents had been something of a dream. Fair Harbour hadn’t even been her original choice for landing, the ship she’d bought passage with had left her off in a much larger city. Only a small stop along the relatively fast paced journey she’d been wrapped up in for months, the less expensive manner of travel involved more stops and far more headaches than expected.
Money was incredibly tight and she was almost positive the vulnerability could be smelled on her, far too many strangers had offered her coin in exchange for an interesting variety of tasks. She had only opted to take in some small jobs on her travels, just enough to keep some money in her pockets and actually afford somewhere safe to sleep.
Tavern work had suited her fine during her brief stays along the coast, throwing herself into a far less directed search than that of her family. Traveling was something she was extremely used to, a coming change of scenery would be strangely relaxing after a complete lack of any dedicated home in her youth. Never truly finding a sense of belonging was weighing on her now that her parents were gone and she was left to her own devices in the world, lacking even the contacts her parents had used to ensure their own safety and comfort in their own endless journey. Vinna was left with a sense of adventure and little in savings, the act of actually settling down had been far too great of a change in her eyes.
Adopting an altered version of herself with each new stop had become her unhealthy coping mechanism, strangely not wanting to leave any part of herself behind. Even Vinna was aware of how ridiculous the behavior was, attempting to separate aspects of her personality in order to blend in among the different social crowds she met. A practice that made little sense when one stepped back and looked at the temporary nature of her time with any group of people once this journey began. She had never intended to linger in any one place and took unnecessary steps to prevent rooting herself down.

Tempting Vinna had always flourished in the evening scenes when she was carrying trays of ale and mead, shamelessly playing a part to pull coins and perhaps a little bit of tarnished validation. So careful to avoid being caught on her own, the petite woman knew she had outright played fire more than once in her past. The Heart Kingdom seemed almost friendly when compared to some of the more startling travel gossip, though she knew a majority of the horror stories had come from the horrific war she had been lucky enough to miss. A true sense of just what had happened during the battle had taken much longer than one would deem appropriate, though nearly everything she would hear overseas was heavily watered down by fiction. Even the plausible tales heard after she'd arrived needed to be taken with more than a few grains of salt, many travelers used gossip and news to weave fantastical tales that would pull in more attention and even some benefits. Tavern gossip was something that tempting Vinna would be privy to, surviving soldiers and those vile enough to steal valor were always happy to spill anything they could think of to snag a little bit of special attention. Rarely would any be offered, with the oversaturation of war ballads and tales, too many versions existed for her to bother with the whole mess of information.

Quiet Vinna would be the unnoticed version that handled markets and most of her travel, always aiming to fade into the background and often disappearing among larger groups. She had learned to always appear as though she was moving with a larger group, to be less of a glaring target to cutpurse and more sinister criminals alike. Despite her own hopes for safety, the petite young woman was well aware of how easily she could disappear due to a misstep, it was so much easier to be practically invisible. Not being overly competent with weapons had been the greatest source of anxiety, aware she wasn’t nearly as capable as she would like to be. One benefit of keeping herself quiet in travels were the smaller scraps of news she would hear from people speaking in more hushed tones, these were often where she could actually find some useful information about the state of the country. The war had been something of a devastating mess that left her birthplace something of an absolute disaster, Vinna wouldn’t be finding her parents' first home or really any ties to her past now. A grand plan around finding herself whisked away only a few weeks into her return, Vinna could almost laugh at the sudden burst of poor fortune. Once more left adrift, she found herself aiming for the more heavily populated capital in hopes of finding something of a foothold in the world. By now she found herself beginning to regret not moving back into her studies, having procrastinated for months. Purposely pushing away decent opportunities in favor of crawling further into her own obscured view of how she was to find herself.

Word of a magic school being opened within the Heart Kingdom had come at an uncomfortably convenient time, though she was still without more than a few coins. She was well aware her brand of magic was something most hadn’t seen before, it wasn’t exactly common to serve as a disruption. Even with the outgoing and demure versions of herself being used as something of a shield, magic still went haywire around her and caused a great deal of stress. Some more capable users were able to pinpoint just where the cursed disruption was coming from, meaning she would lose some popularity fairly quickly. The school quickly became the more desirable option for her future, she could practically feel her control slipping away. Unchecked magic like hers would likely grab for more attention than she was willing to endure, meaning she was more nudged towards returning to school for her magic. A new school could provide a much easier time for her to gain entry, they might still be in need of people to work around the school to help pay for at least some of her education.

Distracting Vinna, still causing unplanned discourse for the magic users around her who couldn’t string more than a few thoughts together if she wasn't paying attention. A great deal of effort had gone into being less of an outright nuisance around others, though she hadn’t learned much beyond suppression in her earlier years of study. Learning to keep things under control had been incredibly difficult and still was on her off days, though she had only caused a few hiccoughs on campus before catching the attention of the founder himself. Although she was sure some might see this pairing as a fantastic opportunity, something she readily agreed with, part of her felt as though she was being assigned a permanent sitter. Use of her powers had proven just how unstable they were, Vinna had also further thrown herself under the bus by admitting that her own powers backfiring had led to the complete lack of color in one of her eyes and the glass like scarring webbed around the fog white iris. Although she assured the higher ups that her vision hadn’t been harmed, she was treated as something unstable by the instructors. The stigma of magic accidents wouldn’t follow her kindly, especially with how she could interfere with her peers.
Being sent to meet with Alaric had been one of the more intimidating moments in her life, the whole meeting had rung of some kind of expulsion and Vinna had steeled herself for more rejection while actually waiting to meet the famed general. A pleasant surprise in the form of tuition and more focused teachings had completely changed the trajectory of her future.

Vinna would of course never pour her feelings of gratitude out, allowing a more quiet version of herself to take hold within the safety of the campus. She still wasn’t quite comfortably enough to relax around her new peers, even after spending six months among them. The private lessons had prevented her from truly settling in among her classmates but also offered her similar freedoms she’d held before. A layer of anonymity would be wrapped around her, keeping an interesting barrier between her and the more gifted students. Ignoring the fact that she was placing these restrictions down herself and purposely limiting her interaction with the others, she couldn’t quite hide how uncomfortable she was with forming relationships or even unstructured social calls. Traveling with Alaric had proven relatively easy, she just needed to stay quiet and keep out of the way while avoiding causing too great an issue with the unpredictable storm that seemed to rage within a few feet of her at all times. Vinna would never have predicted having such an appropriate binding for her abilities, she was quietly grateful someone was equipped to prevent her from committing a magical faux pas.

The sensation of a light breeze catching some of the loose, colorless strands of her long hair had the young magic user slowly pulling away from the very deep daydream she’d fallen into. Reading several chapters on advanced focus had strangely held the opposite effect over the clearly tired Vinna, searching back over the events that had brought her to the school for something of a vacation into memory. She wouldn’t admit to wanting a break, doing her best in tearing through her required reading as quickly as possible to get herself back into the more physical aspects of her training. Although she still hadn’t learned to properly redirect magic or had even truly improved her area of effect, Vinna was almost certain she had done more than enough reading to warrant actually putting her powers into use again. The rules were something of a bind but she wasn’t nearly rebellious or confident enough to begin testing anyone’s patience, though she wouldn’t put it past herself toe the line once she began improving.
Another wash of fresh air would have her actually looking around for the source, she had been so buried in her studies that time had effectively slipped away. Even with her focus waning, Vinna had poured hours into becoming this exhausted with text and was growing concerned she had lost an entire night of sleep. Losing focus during her lessons was easy enough without an added layer of exhaustion she seemed hellbent on forcing upon herself. An optimist might lean towards the silver lining of endurance training, she wouldn’t be perfectly rested during emergencies, though Vinna was quick to remind herself this was thinly veiled enabling.

Closing the book over her page marker gently, Vinna placed one hand on the darkly stained oak table she’d practically lived at during the last season, delicate fingers moving over the natural depressions in the wood. Each day she had followed this small ritual at the end of her sessions, a meditation to draw her out of studies and pull the important steps of self care into focus. She certainly needed to eat before the gentle nagging in her stomach became an audible protest for sustenance. The sound of her mother scolding from beyond the grave would echo around in the back of her mind, pushing the petite woman to finally push back from the table. Chair legs softly scuffing as she stood for the first time in hours, her legs stiff enough to bring forward a small laugh rooted in shame.

‘You need to get out more’

A gentle inward scold would be followed up by a few stiff movements as Vinna gathered her things up and carefully packed them. She would be returning to this very table within a day but still knew better than to leave anything lying about in an effort to stake claim. Her room had already been taken over by volumes and paper, though she had been quite dedicated to organization from the very start. Despite hosting a library, it was a well organized one that contained a few pages of her own notes, she took a quiet sort of pride in her ability to keep track of things. Three volumes and her notes were soon properly tucked away for their journey back to her chambers, ready to be forgotten about until Vinna had cleared her mind enough and perhaps even slept a few hours.

Taking a few careful steps out into the hall, she was met with silence and wasted little time in moving along as quietly as her soft leather boots would allow. Broken in and quiet, she actually had made the trip without drawing any attention a few times in the last few weeks. No curfew existed but she did hate waking people up and some were impressively light sleepers.

“The library ghost appears” A whisper laced with humor broke through the fragile silence and caused Vinna to nearly jump out of her skin. Turning quickly to face the slight woman traveling in the dark, barely visible in the small pit of shadow between the few magic orbs offering dim light to the stone corridor. The school was understandably poorly lit during the later hours, even the night students who were out dealing with summoning weren't practicing indoors.

“The nightmare of the school hallways strikes again” Vinna whispered back, a hand pressed over her racing heart. Her flimsy comeback earned a smirk that offered just enough validation to keep Vinna from sliding further into social ineptitude. “You should note I still haven’t slept in there” Vinna added quickly, as though this was something to be proud of.

“Have you eaten anything?” The question felt like something of a personal attack coming from the woman, still shifting in and out of the shadows in the hall. A type of camouflage Vinna deeply envied but knew she wouldn’t be able to obtain with her own set of abilities, though she might dive into that study next if she could really learn how to completely alter other people’s spells. A quick rumble of her stomach would betray her before she even had a chance to dodge the question, too intent on not making waves. The knowing look that would follow the obvious noise of comfort would have Vinna surrendering slightly.

“Of course not, I was hoping a kindly member of staff would see to my not starving” Vinna replied, toeing the line of humor to ensure she didn’t ruffle any feathers. She wasn’t quite comfortable enough in her relationship with any of the staff to dive right into backsassing. Taking the overall tension out of the moment was her go to defence mechanism and she was certain the shadow figure had figured that out after their third conversation.

A sigh and a dramatic eye roll would be returned by the shadow woman who simply tipped her head as an instruction to follow. Effectively ending the verbal part of their exchange, neither were keen on disturbing anyone else. Vinna was also sure they didn’t want the kitchen to become an all night pantry, the freedom might cause some of the students to adopt truly bizarre schedules.

“Wait” The shadow would instruct, vanishing completely after stopping Vinna in a hall she knew was close to the kitchen. The sounds of a heavy lock turning and the gentle scraping of a worn door ghosting over it’s own wear patterns in the floor, soft from sanding itself down to accommodate the weight on the three iron hinges. Food seemed to be better protected than most supplies in the school, Vinna wondered if magic creatures weren’t lurking around, waiting for the perfect opportunity to storm the well stocked pantries.

The silence in the dark hallway pressed into Vinna’s senses as small figures danced just out of sight, tricks from exhaustion that used to put her on edge. Gentle sounds could be heard from behind the heavy wooden door, offering reassurance that the school was much better fortified than she was giving it credit for. No one in their right mind would have a building full of fledgeling magic users and no precautions in place to contain any spells that could go rogue, or anything malicious that might be summoned.
Something suddenly slid into view and Vinna felt something wooden being pushed into her hands, a fairly standard little plate that she would thank the shadow for.

“Get out of here and go sleep” The shadow woman would reply, shooing the now taken care of student away so she could resume her night duties. Vinna wasn’t the only student who stretched themselves too thin and she would be one of the easier to wrangle of the group, usually bending to advice about better caring for herself. Exhaustion had bitten her more than once in the past and she wasn't about to be caught letting things slip through the cracks due to time mismanagement.

Clean white sheets would be an incredibly welcome sight once Vinna had actually made her way back to her room, pleased to discover she hadn’t completely lost her chance at even a short rest. Self discipline wasn’t her strongest trait but she was managing to coast lightly on some charm, having convinced one of the strange night staff to get her a few portions of bread and cheese from the kitchen stores. Vinna wouldn’t consider it an incredible feat but still appreciated being able to feed herself before snagging a few short hours of rest. Exhaustion would win out at one point during the small picnic, leaving Vinna asleep in her clothes and clutching a piece of bread.

---

The obnoxious sounds of birds in the early hours was something Vinna could always rely on to wake her, rats with wings cawing aggressively and reminding her she was still close enough to the ocean to pack up and vanish if she truly failed. Another brief moment of weakness would be followed by an internal correction, attempting to at least challenge the part of herself that feared turning into her research hungry parents. The sea of books rising in rectangular waves around her room only served to amplify the brief bout of anxiety, she really did feel as though she was literally burying herself in work some days. A few deep breaths that carried self depreciation would follow the misplaced emotions as Vinna tugged at the collar of the robes she’d fallen asleep in. Too warm for her to rest in normally, she was growing steadily more aware of just how tired she had been. A small wave of shame was attempting to tear her down over not even getting undressed before getting in bed but Vinna actively refused to wade any further into the intrusive thoughts collecting like standing water.
Self sabotage was attempting to rear its ugly head and Vinna was doing an acceptable job of keeping her doubts at bay. Reminding herself she had been pulled into more focused training instead of sent on her way, she truly resented the insecurity threatening to topple her self esteem into the abyss at any given moment. Feeling something pressing against her left arm, Vinna opened her blue eye to find the plate from the previous night still undisturbed.

Vinna would allow herself a generous ten minutes of internal struggle before forcing herself back under the suffocating load of the work she had nearly caught up on. Dragging her now sleep rumpled robes off and carelessly tossing them into a basket she used for dirty clothing. A few more days of torture would put her ahead enough to take up something of a more relaxed schedule that could include some forms of self care. At least she’d remained meticulous about her personal hygiene, willing to forgo more sleep in the name of looking well put together. Opting for the same uniform of solid black, form fitting robes, aiding her in further disappearing from view. The only splash of color about Vinna was her one dark blue eye, accentuating just how strangely her skin and colorless eye were scarred. She was certain the strange marbling had only been interesting to the few seeing the marks, it wasn’t overly difficult for one to put together a rough version of what could have happened when they learned of her knack for disruption. A brush was dragged through her freshly washed hair to add at least a general direction for the strands to follow, aiding her in fulfilling her need to look professional at all times.

Feeling well rested was something of a foreign sensation, the trip back to her blessed island of isolation in the library had been almost enjoyable. She still wasn’t quite sure if she would be whisked away for lessons or not, given the recent gossip around the dealings among varied kingdoms. Vinna had learned early on to ignore a majority of the gossip running through the school, likening it to the watered down gossip one heard while traveling. If her teacher was too busy to follow up, she was going to be stuck in more theory work, unless he actually did take her along with him. She wasn’t sure if that idea was something she could hold on to, aware things were still delicate politically. An invitation to travel within the kingdoms would certainly be something of a dream for her, satisfying her inability to sit still and carrying her studies forward. Vinna knew she would need to keep her mouth shut and behave if she wanted to avoid walking herself right back out of the sale.

Arriving back at her oaken prison, Vinna would waste little time in crawling back into her main source of distraction. Pleasantly surprised once she pulled open her next chapter and saw the first mentions of truly taking control of her own mana, her own magic. The end result of spells cast towards or around her had never been predictable, though she’d been told there was a possibility of actually putting her disruption to good use. Excitement would finally pull her right back into the pages in a borderline obsessive manner she’d been missing over the last two weeks. Food and a little sleep had pulled her back to something of a functional level and Vinna was once more tearing into the magical content laid out before her. She had finally left the material she had previously learned overseas, the rush of cutting into something new hadn’t found her in months. Vinna could practically feel the small rut coming to an end, relieved she hadn’t complained over growing bored. A year ago she wouldn’t have had the patience to make it through drier content and the realization that some personal growth happened was causing Vinna to wrinkle her nose slightly.

The overall goal of her education was to make something useful out of her chaotic interference, she was sure Alaric had some kind of plan for her to be helpful within the military ranks. Part of her still hadn’t quite nailed down how the system worked from kingdom to kingdom, her views on the inner workings were wildly outdated. Being from the Clubs kingdom had to have some meaning, even if she’d never returned in nearly two decades. Fear of looking foolish had prevented her from asking her classmates but she did realize the resource she had in her teacher, he seemed quite heavily intertwined with the inner workings of the kingdom. Vinna had never been offered even a glance at the more private workings, something she had grown curious about but would of course politely keep her nose out of. As interesting as it might be to know the latest tales of bad behavior, scandal, or impending war, she knew it would serve her far better to remain under the radar and firmly in Alaric’s shadow. She knew she could ask him a few questions in time, growing comfortable enough to know the man wasn’t going to mock her for not having a grasp on local social customs.