"Gerald? Do you know where Natsu is?" The blonde shook his head at his older sister. "No, Frannie, I haven't seen her in a while. I've been busy with work," he said apologetically. "She'd mentioned something about a trip with Hotaru or something. You could ask the Komatanes?" He smiled and wandered back out of the kitchen. "Oh, was there something in particular you need her for?" "Oh, nothing, just curious," Francine smiled. It faded quickly once she was out of his sight. + + + "May I please speak with Hotaru?" "All right, one moment..." A pause. "Um, hello?" "Magician." + + + Arcana started by Scott Schimmel Chapter Fifty-Three: Traveling by Erin Ellis + + + The man, usually angles and rough edges, became beautiful with the sword; he seemed to move in ways unnatural, at least to the average lawyer. He twisted and turned, eyes closed, possibly facing some imaginary enemy. As he continued, the movements became more intricate, and the blade seemed to almost glow with power. Abruptly he stopped, the long sword suddenly inches from her face. "Enjoying the show?" Rusty cracked, raising an eyebrow, finally opening an eye. Arisa reddened, embarrassed at being caught staring. "The other two are sparring," she said off-handedly, her face belying the calm tone. "Heard something over here. What is that?" she said, gesturing in his direction. "This?" he asked, indicating the silver-hilted blade. "Something I don't intend to need to use. But wars aren't won by sticking to intentions, no?" The Knight's brows furrowed slightly, but he made no visible response, padding towards her, the doorway of the small room. He took a cloth from a hook on the wall, wiping the already clean sword. The blade looked obscenely keen, as if it could cut before even touching the surface. But, if allowed to touch it... She consciously pulled her hand away. "It's beautiful," she said. "It does the job," he replied, placing it back into a bejeweled scabbard, and lying it in a case. "Now, it seems as if the others are done?" They crossed back into the larger room, where Bronwyn and Sumire were standing together. "I guess I'll give you a chance to leave with a winning record," Bronwyn said, grinning. "How'd you do?" Arisa asked, having tuned out much of their sparring. "Well, other than our best of seven match being done in four..." The woman gave an exaggerated shrug. "Being the Queen of Blades obviously doesn't translate into any mastery over the subject," Bronwyn sighed, plopping onto the ground next to her water bottle. Sumire shook her head, but Arisa could tell she was proud of herself. "You are probably just out of practice. Nothing to worry about." "Looks like you're on a roll there, Su-chan," Arisa smiled. "Didn't seem to have any trouble toasting either of us." Her friend shrugged in return, smiling slightly. "Let's see how far your roll goes, eh?" Rusty stepped forward, passing his shinai between his hands. "Care for a match, Ace?" She nodded in return. "She's tougher than she looks, Rusty," the Queen called wryly. "I hope so," he muttered. Arisa pursed her lips, taking a step out of the way. They bowed, eyes on each other, then took a step back. Sumire took the traditional kendo stance, bokken held two-handed towards Rusty's midsection, feet slightly staggered. Rusty was much more informal, standing almost casually before her, shinai held lightly away from the body, in no particular form Arisa knew of. The pair continued to wait, perhaps trying to psych the other out, perhaps trying to read the other's expression. Abruptly, Sumire lunged forward, bridging the gap between them. She gave a basic vertical slash, which the man dodged, hitting against her bokken. She followed with a series of thrusts, and he avoided them, falling back. Sumire stepped back as well, beginning to circle slowly. They walked a cycle or two, then Rusty attacked from her left, and she quickly raised her guard, knocking his shinai away, and swiped at his forearm. He met the hit, transferring the bamboo sword to his left hand and tagging her on the shoulder. Frowning, she immediately returned, transferring her momentum into a messy forward thrust. Rusty visibly changed stance to parry. But before she reached him, she pushed off to the right, swinging inwards and clipping at his side. Arisa was sure that would be a big hit, but instead, Rusty leaned with the hit, missing most of its force. He closed in, on the offensive now, going for a close, crushing blow. Almost too late, Sumire brought up her bokken, blocking his blade from touching her. He pressed forward, making it an issue of strength. Apparently, he was much stronger than he looked, as Sumire struggled for dominance, the lawyer didn't seem to exert himself. She withdrew, pulling back to swing at the man as he fell forward. However, he didn't; rolling rather than stumbling forward, he missed her attack. Rusty fought differently with the practice sword than he had with the silver blade. He still moved with ease, dodging Sumire's attacks and pressing his own advantage with a lanky grace. However, the preternaturally fluid attacks she'd seen before were not present. Arisa wondered how much of that was fighting against a real opponent, and how much of that had been the sword. Either way, he was very good, and against him, the Ace seemed stiff, and almost-- unprepared for his skill? They recovered at the same time, Sumire pulling her swing and going back to her guard position as Rusty got nimbly to his feet. He was fighting more like with the sword now, an idle smile on his face. "Check," he commented. The Ace was breathing heavily, teeth gritted. She noticed her nails digging into her palms-- why was she so nervous? He couldn't actually defeat her, could he? Arisa didn't know of anyone who had ever beaten Sumire in a sword fight, and the idea of it happening now was unpleasant. The King ran at Sumire, who matched him, swinging to meet him. The resulting blow skidded her backwards, though she didn't fall. Instead, she sprang forward again-- she'd knocked Rusty's blade upwards, leaving his body open for a strike. Sumire was already moving as Arisa even realized the opening, Rusty holding his own sword pointed towards the Ace, and moving towards her as well. She was inches from his midsection when he nudged her bokken aside, and thrust himself; the move looking more like European fencing than anything else. Sumire's eyes widened; a second later, Arisa's followed. Everything seemed to slow down, as Sumire too late tried to avoid, prepare for the blow. But it was only a split second, and the blade had hit her square in the breastbone, and with a clatter and a hoarse cry, Sumire was sprawled backwards on the ground. Before she could even reach for her bokken, Rusty was standing above her, blade pressed into the crook of her chin. "Checkmate," he said, voice unreadable. "Sumire--" Arisa started, running forward a few steps until she was stopped by the hand of the Queen. Her eyes fluttered, drawing a long, painful breath. "I thought... you would go right," the Ace explained, gingerly pulling herself to a sitting position. "I know," he frowned. "I hope you see now how much farther we have to go. The Ace of Blades shouldn't be able to be defeated by anyone in a sword match. Obviously, what you've been doing to date isn't even close to what I need from you." "Hey, give her a break. She's been training hard all day, we all have. She gave it her best, and we don't need you yelling at us like you're better than us just because you got lucky for once." All eyes were on Arisa now; she wasn't quite sure why she'd exploded like that, but it hadn't really been a conscious choice. Rusty walked up to her, eyes narrowed. "Actually, I can yell at you like I'm better than you because I -am-. If nothing else, look at the fact that you're a Knight, and I am your King. You don't realize the gravity of the situation, do you. If our Ace can't even defeat me with a sword, how is she to survive against people with enhanced powers, magic, luck? Would you have her die because she is unprepared?" He turned to Sumire. "And you -are- unprepared. I don't believe that you did give it your best. Because your best should be a hell of a lot better than that. I don't know why you're doing it, and I don't know who told you to. But never hold back again. It could cost your life," and here he cast a glance at Arisa, "and the life of others." He stalked back between the three. "That goes for all of you. The weakness of one will hold us all back from our goals. That cannot be allowed to happen. We must win at any cost." His Court was silent; the only sound the harsh pants of the Ace. He stared at each, eyes seeming to bore into their beings. Arisa couldn't look away, despite her defiant wish to ignore him, her concern over Sumire's wound, her-- inexplicable shame at having talked back. Finally he released her gaze, and it was a weight lifted from her entire body. He turned to Sumire, and it felt like the spot just shy of where lightning struck. It felt enlightening and limiting. It felt as if she were left out again. Again, Sumire would receive something-- a praise, a skill, a blessing. Again, Arisa would get nothing, would be forgotten until it was too late. And suddenly she felt empty, as if she'd let the most precious thing slip through her fingers. And then before she could even comprehend this, it was over, not even a memory. Rusty winked at her, an easy smile on his face. "Arisa, you and Bronwyn continue. Sumire, let's get you some ice before that bruises too badly." The Ace nodded, wordlessly following. Her eyes were clouded-- pain, and something else-- respect? Already? Sumire was not usually so easily won over. The long-haired girl frowned, unsure of what to think. + + + "Maki-ojousama..." Hanako curtseyed before her Queen. The dark-haired girl smiled sweetly, looking down at the invitation. "Of course you may go. Find out what they want. Promise to help them, if you wish." The girl looked back, confused. "I... I don't understand." "I am curious what the would-be Council's aims are. Some would have us be dependent on others, my loyal Page. And what is it they say, 'knowledge is power'?" Maki sat back, ruminating. "If that fool Shirosawa is there, they'll already know more than I'd like. It doesn't matter if you tell them about us or not. But don't tell them who the King is. He and I need to... discuss some things first. And that goes for Will as well," the Queen said, shooting the blonde a sharp look. Hanako avoided her eyes, guilty. "I know that you have been spending time with him. And... I don't forbid it. But watch your tongue around him. And watch yourself," she hissed, clutching the younger girl's arm in a grip more frightened than she'd intended. "Um.. thanks," Hanako nodded, bobbing her head, and rushing out of the room. Perhaps that had been too much. Concern over Hanako's wellbeing notwithstanding, she shouldn't show weakness, especially not to her subordinates. "What was that all about?" Chris asked, wandering up behind her. Maki quickly schooled her face to a kindly condescending smile. "My Page is going to meet other Arcana, and I told her to be safe. I take care of my Court, and that is why they are loyal to me." The boy's eyebrows ridged. "And you are loyal to me, correct?" "Of course." Her voice was light, but face was grudging. "How else would I be?" "Just making sure," he nodded. He sat on a couch opposite her. "So, what'd you need?" To become the Empress, or to have a King who followed her wishes, Maki didn't answer. "Well, my King," here the words were rather forced, "It seems like we'll be taking a little trip tomorrow to meet our friends, the Blades." Maybe having a King wouldn't be so bad after all... especially when he found his boss was his uncle. And there could be a way to eliminate them both. + + + "Hey, Sergeant Nakamura!" The policeman turned to find the round figure of officer Takajima approaching. "You seen Sergeant Sagara around anywhere?" The brown-haired man shook his head. "He's not here? I've been out for a couple days, and this is my first day back. Maybe he's on vacation or something." "No, he's not scheduled for anything. Well, just let me know if he comes in later on." Nakamura nodded in return, distracted. It wasn't like Sagara to not come to work if he could help it. Where could he have gone? Putting it off to worry about later, Nakamura wandered to his desk, barely able to see over the top of it. Work literally did pile up... now he knew why he didn't take breaks more often. Reaching for the top of the stack, Nakamura pulled a manila envelope. Emptying its contents onto his lap, he froze, letting out his breath in a slow hiss. There were four cards inside. One was labeled 'Sagara'. The others were tarot cards: the eight of swords, the Moon, and Justice. Reaching slowly for the cards, he gingerly lifted one. Nakamura's eyes closed. + + + The Magician's seat wasn't exactly at the center of the table, but she'd arrived first, and was definitely the leader of the meeting. The girl had called or written every Arcana she knew to meet in Tower Reversed. A council of Arcana, if not –the- Council Arcana. She might have thought it worth giving a giggle over were her topics less depressing. "I think this is everyone," Hotaru said, getting started. The room was darker than usual; Tetsuya had mumbled something about Tower's health when she'd commented on it earlier. The brunette felt it ominous, and searched for Ishido, whose seat was regretfully on the complete other side of the U-shaped table. He was looking down, and she was denied comfort. Biting her lower lip, she continued. "I guess we should have a roll call or something. I guess I'll start... Magician." "World," said the blindfolded woman a couple seats to her left. Hotaru hadn't noticed her enter, and had never seen her before. She didn't seem to want to make trouble, so... "Knight of Wands," Tetsuya's voice was bitter. "Ah, Knight of Cups," Keisuke said. He sounded guilty, and Hotaru wished she could help him. A slight boy swaddled in robes stood, sitting next to Keisuke. "Page of Cups." "Page of Pentacles." Hanako's voice was small in the large room. "The Fool," Ishido concluded. In the dim light, he looked darker-- dangerous. Hotaru shuddered unconsciously. No, she couldn't afford to freak herself out like this. "Well," she said, shaking her head to clear it. She didn't know what to say... she hadn't thought this far ahead. And she emptied her mind and words came. "We've called you here because of our previous ties; we are all Arcana, and it is right to meet here, in this room, to discuss matters pertinent to us all. The Cups have a matter to present, and will do so in a moment." The words, the phrasing stopped as abruptly as they came. "I..." here she faltered slightly, "I have a second, perhaps overly personal reason to call you here. Natsu... something's happened to her, and she's been taken by the High Priestess." She paused to varying reactions; Ishido's face was unmoving, but visibly paled; the Page of Cups's was similarly troubled. Tetsuya looked outraged, and Keisuke betrayed. World was bleakly passive, and Hanako just confused. "I want-- I have to save her. So, if anyone has any ideas to where she might be..." she trailed. Everyone looked around uneasily, but no one spoke. "Well, um, if there are any leads... let me know." Of course, no one would know. They would have already told her if there was any information. These were her friends and could be trusted... right? "I guess, second order of business is for Keisuke?" "Yes," he began; at his Page's nudging, they both stood. "As you may know, we-- er, the Cups are sort of here in the Tower Reversed right now. So, Tower's inside too, and his powers are bound by these things called--" "The Shackles," World interrupted. "They bind not only Tower's power, but the full potential of all Trumps. As I understand it, Cup, your King is quite the spiteful one." She arched an eyebrow at the standing boys, Keisuke shrinking back at her gaze. "For the safety of all: Trumps, Suits, and men, we bind the Tower. As we speak, others prepare to invade the Tower Reversed to destroy the Shackles, to subjugate others with their powers. World, you may believe anything you wish about our King. The Cups do not intend a repeat of the Great War." The Page paused, letting his words sink in. "What we ask is your support, barring that, a promise not to interfere. While we Cups are not powerless, there are many Trumps, and more who would become such. Any assistance against them is appreciated." The boy fell silent, deep eyes peering at her. "Right," Keisuke said, gaining some momentum. "We just want everyone to be peaceful-- to be united. We don't want to hurt anyone," he said plaintively, looking directly at Tetsuya, then sweeping the room. "So then... Are you in? Will you help us?" The Trumps were not at full power yet? With the feats Miyuki, Ishido, she herself could do? Then to free all that power, to feel it would be so exhilarating... would be so dangerous. Hotaru slowly shook her head, increasing in speed as she looked up. "If sacrificing Tower Reversed keeps there from being more Arcana-- more power than us-- I will. I can't condone anyone having that much power. I'll fight to keep the Trumps bound." Healer nodded, face unreadable. "I'll... I'll check with my Court," Hanako said nervously. "But it might be okay." "I will aid you as I can," World said. Tetsuya shrugged. "Whatever, if it saves Natsu." "Jo-- er, Ishido?" The dark-haired boy sat back in his seat, silent for a long time. He was unmoving, as all eyes were on him, and he stretched backwards, backflipping out of his seat to a standing position. "Well, looks like everyone's agreed. Have fun," he said, waving, and moving to the door. "You won't join us?" Hotaru's betrayal was plain on her face. "No offense, Firefly, but you should know by now that I'm not a team player. Doesn't fit the image," he smirked. Her eyes widened, and Hotaru felt a sick twisting in the pit of her stomach. "I thought... after all this time..." Maybe... maybe he had only used her for access to the others... or to keep her from interfering with others. "Is that how it is?" she said, voice unnaturally high. "Trying to keep all the power to yourself?" That wasn't what she'd intended to say. Joker laughed, the tones almost harsh. "I am not limited as you are. I have no fears if the Prophecy comes to pass. Rather, I think it'd be rather interesting. It's about time for a change... and The End would be a big change indeed, no?" "But," Hotaru said, finding nothing to follow it. "But." Ishido grabbed her hands, face softening. "But," he trailed, his bright eyes burning into hers for the longest instant. And maybe. "But Firefly... we'll always have Paris. Or at least, the House of International Pancakes." He winked, dancing away. "My regards to the Paradox. I'll see you later; or more likely, I won't. Ta-ta." He gave an absurdly low bow, swinging his cloak around his shoulders, and ran up the stairs and out of the room. Hotaru started after him, tripping and falling up the stairs. Dimly, she knew someone-- Keisuke? Tetsuya? had run to her, was lifting her up. But it didn't matter because he was gone and she knew it. And it hurt, because she didn't know why. + + + "What's up with the Trump? I don't know." There were times she wondered why she kept him. "I -did- enter the dream. And got punished for it, I should say." The welt around his neck was still red. "I'm not sure by who. It's not like they left a damned calling card." "Yes, I am annoyed. I am rather unhappy at how all this turned out." "She speaks in riddles. I'm a businessman, not Batman." "Hell... 'the blindfold grants sight, and the child's sight is traded to relieve her blindness.. bound sightless within the dream lies the one who sees all.' You make any sense out of it?" "Are you getting some pleasure from my frustration? No, please tell me; I don't know who the hell it was!" "What? -What?- ...Damn. Dammit. God damn it!" Will jumped out of the jeep and stalked into the house, slamming the door. Victory forgave the inconsideration at present, a small smile crossing her lips. + + + In their next match, Sumire defeated her King. A disarm, nicely done, too. "Good job. Try not to hold back next time." And Rusty grinned again at her, at Arisa. He realized the Knight would take a little longer, especially if he didn't overtly use his power. But the payoff of obeisance was worth the wait. His Ace had returned, and that was the first step. His Knight would soon follow, as she always did. Now, it was time for the next level... time to see how good of an ally the Pentacles actually were. And if not, time to cut off some loose ends. + + + Well, that had gone splendidly. It was well past time he was someplace else. /She was dampening your powers, you know,/ the voice said. It was new, the voice. The Fool wasn't meant to be alone, and finally, he wasn't. It had cut through the cursed silence, and given him new life. He was now free, like a bird, could go anywhere, do anything. Continue his journey. Regain his true place in the Spread. He missed her already. /It is hard. But it is necessary. The Fool has no constraints. The Fool stands with no one./ But those who rule? A young boy stood across the street, peering curiously at him. Shrugging, Joker crossed, kneeling in front of the boy and giving a toothy grin. "You look lost, little boy." "Um," he said, clearly troubled. "Shouldn't... shouldn't you be with someone else?" "Shouldn't you?" "I've... gotten separated." "So have I. Why don't we return together?" Who wouldn't trust the motives of a fool? "All right." They started off down the street together, a spring in Ishido's step he hadn't in a while. /You know who this one is./ Of course he did. And maybe now it was time for The Fool to move to the other end of the deck. + + + The Ace of Cups paced the Courtyard, only one thing left to do. And she was not looking forward to him. "Hello, my dear." The High Priestess was behind her, hands caressing her shoulders; so close his cloak swirled around her ankles. The Ace stiffened, and it was all she could do not to cry out. "What?" she bit, teeth clenched. "So, what of your King?" She sighed. "He has found your work acceptable. You may stay here for now." "Perfect," he sighed, hands trailing down her arms. It felt like spiders. He swept away from her slowly, revealing a girl in his place. "Here, I'll show you what you've helped create." Natsu Forrester stood, eyes closed, face impassive. Her features seemed paler, sharper, and makeup she wore accentuated the contrast between her light skin and dark clothing. She was dressed all in black: a form fitting silken cropped shirt with matching trousers and heeled leather boots with silver accents. Her wrists were adorned with a few slim silver bangles, and a simple, black choker circled her neck, with a diamond-shaped pendant hanging from it that looked similar to a dog collar. While nothing was ill-fitting, even from the Ace's limited exposure to the girl, she could tell it did not suit her. High Priestess draped an arm over Natsu's shoulder, teasing a lock of her hair. "My doll and I played dress-up," he said, a smile ghosting over his lips. The Ace's eyes narrowed. "What did you do to her?" "Given her attire more befitting her status. She is not the counterpart of some schoolgirl witch," he spat. "She is mine." "And she agreed to this?" The pretty man's lips curved. "You helped convince her, my dear. We have a common foe. She knows she hurts the Magician just by being here with me. And that... that is enough." The Ace examined Natsu, who made no reaction. "She doesn't talk?" "Dolls have no need of speech," he smirked at Ace's shocked reaction. "Worry not, she is physically unharmed, and will stay that way until I find it profitable to be otherwise. Now she sleeps. Not everyone walks the land of dreams." The Ace of Cups felt sick. To play with a life like that. To accept such harsh subjugation. To be bound without any regard to your personal desires... "So, are you finished gloating? You can leave now; I will call you when the King requires you." "No... She is a present. For you... for now. Enjoy her as you wish." Her eyes widened. "I am not like you," she spat. "Oh, you are closer to me than you would like to admit. Care for her; I have some... business to attend to. She is a good doll, but not a perfect one." "You're despicable." "You're running out of insults, little Ace. I believe that's a repeat. I am I, as I have always been. Accept it. We could do a lot for each other... in every way. And even if you don't want to think about it, you know exactly what I mean." He paused, letting the words sink in. "She is new to the dream plane; it may be easier to wake her. I will see you." "All too soon," the Ace muttered. But she couldn't help considering his offer. + + + It had been a very long day, and Rusty wanted nothing more than to get into his soft bed and spend some quality time watching the insides of his eyelids. As he stepped forward, there was a slight jar, and he was someplace else, outside. From the swirling, troubled sky, he assumed he had been thrust into the astral plane. "You know I hate that, World." The dark-haired woman faded into view, her colors, those of the empty field they stood in, all washed out, frayed. "They know you're coming. They know you're bringing the Pentacles, and they've called in reinforcements." "Oh?" the King asked. "The Magician and her friends. They've agreed to stop anyone who comes to the Tower." "Yes, we assumed that would happen," he said patiently. There was something more to this, obviously. "I..." The woman wrung her hands, looking older, worn, tired. "Oh, you'll know soon enough. Chris is the King of Pentacles. I tried to keep it from him-- keep it from them all. And now... oh gods." She averted her eyes, biting her lip to keep from breaking down. He looked at her almost sympathetically. "They grow up, Francine. I'll do what I can-- I don't want to lose anyone. But some things can't be avoided. It's dangerous to assume there won't be any casualties. Not everyone who goes out is going to make it back. This is the ultimate-- the biggest challenge, with the biggest payoff. Emperor. It's a small cost, relatively." Her face seemed to crumble. "You don't understand. Please, Rusty... Please don't let anything happen to my-- to Chris." "I've always understood," he said meaningfully. "But there are more important things. And he's seventeen. He can make his own decisions." She looked away. "Yes, but--" She stopped abruptly. "It's late, Francine." He looked up to begin his entreaties anew, but she was gone, and he was back in the hallway. Shaking his head, Rusty trudged up the stairs and went to bed. + + + It had only been half of a conversation, but it was enough. Arisa leaned against the wall, not moving until she was certain that her King had left the immediate vicinity. She had known he was hiding something. "Emperor." + + + It hurt. Gods, it hurt. Taking a step, taking a breath. It couldn't be avoided. But that didn't mean that it was pleasurable. The man was in his twenties; tall, muscular, Russian. /You know I don't want to hurt you. You know that hurting you is like hurting myself./ He was important to him. That was why he needed to be destroyed. Why didn't he seem to understand? There could be only one. It should be him. He was so much stronger. So much more worthy. The man's coat was long and worn. The wind whipped it around his legs, tossed his long brown hair before his angular face. He was talking again... struggling. Mocking him. How dare he. The man punched himself in the stomach then drew a knife, reopening a long gash down the line of his own chin. He could kill right now. If he wouldn't stop wouldn't obey wouldn't just -shut up-. The blood was violently red against the dirty snow. So red. The only thing that was real. It was his... but it was -his-. /A trick, now?/ He chuckled, to himself, to him. A large, dirty hand was lifted from the pocket, a bloodstained handkerchief pressed to the wound. /You can't fool me. I can't be fooled./ Because he was weak... but -he- was strong. And would not let him die. Not here, not now. Still. Gods, it hurt to be weak. /You looked so strong. I hate liars. Do you know how much I hate you?/ It was possible. He was sure it was returned. Did it matter? There were more pressing things to worry about. Much farther to go before he made it to his goal. /Soon, I'll be there again. My strength. My power. My victory. My Court./ What he deserved. Everything. No sound would form from the cracked lips. He wanted water, rest. No, he would continue. The man trudged on. East. Towards the Tower. + + + tbc. + + + Um... yeah. eme 17.may.2002 + + + "So, that is what they are up to. And the other one is going there?" "Of course, I told him to. Soon we can take them all. For who wouldn't trust the motives of a Fool?" Bitter laughter rang.