Chapter 18

18

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Once the cards were fully aligned, one mysteriously mixed card made up of swirling patterns both silver and gold rose even higher above the two rows and turned itself to face forward. The Sun and The Moon vanished within the card and when it dispersed into an array of blinding starlight, the Major Arcana began to turn. Once that row had done a full about-face, the Minor Arcana followed suit. Each card flashed to reveal it's respective title. The Hanged Man stepped out from inside his card, lassoed Casterline by the neck and pulled her in with him. Agile, graceful, a true acrobatic talent he was. Unfortunately for Caste, she was unable to appreciate this Piscean marvel, being that he was too busy trying to strangle her to death as he jumped and flipped in dazzling, graceful sweeps from wooden platform to wooden platform. Casterline's first instinct was to call forth Chise from her broadsword, but alas she could not reach it in her current state. The setting within the card was an ancient forest filled with tall and massive trees as far as the eye could see. Etched into these trees were adornments created specifically for The Hanged Man to enjoy. In his natural habitat, he was able to glide freely and to Caste's torment...he did just that. He swung her 'round like a rag doll reveling in seeing her face turn from rosy red to a sickly pale blue. Just as she was about to lose consciousness and concede with her untimely fate, an idea crossed her mind. Chise couldn't be summoned, sure, but that didn't mean Casterline couldn't copy her greatest attribute. She focused her thoughts into visualizing the sharp fangs of her beloved feathered Lamia at first and then channeled the source of her powers from the elements available to her. Yes, she was surrounded by earth, wood, wind, and grass. But none of those would be powerful enough for the task at hand. It was a gamble to call upon the elements of the card itself, but she had nothing to lose but her life either way. She envisioned the slab of gold, the Sun insignia that had awed her only moments ago. And as she did so she could feel her teeth transmuting, sharpening into perfectly filed golden fangs akin to Chise's shark-like assets. Said assets were invaluable to their hunting and food supply. At least they had been, until Fiaerna cruelly decided to cut them off from their Magic and food sources. No matter, Casterline found herself thinking as she chomped down hard at the rope, being starved by My Lady is still less cruel an end than to be strangled to death. Once freed from her captivity, she grabbed the gnawed rope and wound it around her waist so that her captor could harm her no more. It was only when she'd managed to parry an expertly thrown kick from her assailant that she'd noticed The Hanged Man's hands were tightly bound behind his back. He'd definitely used his hands to tie the rope around her neck earlier and pull as mercilessly as he could until she was one breath away from oblivion. That being the case, Caste deduced that every failed attempt to hang her resulted in his prior imprisonment upon the cross buried directly in the middle of the forest. Though the trees seemed to stretch on to the ends of eternity, the cross appeared no matter how far nor how deeply they ran through them. "What a strange and sad purgatory to live within these cards." Caste muttered to herself as she blocked a barrage of violent kicks. "Truly a living hell." The Hanged Man said in response.

Taken aback by his ability to speak, The Hanged Man took the opportunity to kick her square in the stomach. She coughed up blood. "Winded, bruised and bleeding...yet you still smile?" He asked with a quizzical tilt of his head. "You remind me of myself when I was once Court Jester, personally appointed to a small and devastating demon princess." "You mean Fiaerna." Caste said in attempt to keep him talking while she grappled for her sword. As The Hanged Man turned and bared his back to reveal his bloody scars, Caste used his distraction to finally call Chise forward. As she materialized from within the broadsword, The Hanged Man hurriedly pulled his shirt back down and flipped backwards, using the sheer velocity of the wind to propel him as far away from the now doubled forces as he could. Caste nodded in command and Chise flew after him with the utmost obedience.

Caste took this time to breathe in deeply. Her vision was muddled by the onset of a migraine caused by lack of oxygen for an extended amount of time. Her dehydrated, severely weakened body made her feel almost useless in this fight. Should she not be far stronger by now? She'd lost track of her current level, grinding so often without any breaks in between that she'd gone into a form of autopilot berserker mode. She'd hacked and slashed away until Princess Fiaerna deemed it appropriate for her to stop. So then why had she become so weak? The answer was clear, though Casterline was near as obedient now to Her Highness as Chise was to her. Sheer denial kept her from understanding that Fiaerna had let her become this weak. And that blind faith and denial was exactly what kept Caste going. The hope that, at some point this would all be over and the reward for her valor and staunch bravery would be a return to normalcy. A return to the life and loved ones whose importance far outweighed any loyalty she may have for her Princess, though she dare not let it show. Casterline was in the middle of visualizing her next Magic stunt when Chise came roaring back toward her with The Hanged Man beaten to a pulp and wrapped safely in his original position hanging upside down, tied securely to his accursed cross. He was barely alive, but Caste praised Chise for her hard work regardless. She figured being stuck in a forever forest, all alone, and strewn in such an undignified manner was punishment enough for this crazed Court Jester. Out like a light and no longer a threat, Chise bade Caste to climb atop her back in order to reach the exit faster. Upon jumping out from the card, it blackened and fell from the sky with an enormous °boom°. Yet again, this kicked up an unexpected sand storm that flung Caste from Chise's back, sending both of them flying directly into yet another card. The atmosphere here was that of a gothic graveyard. In the midst of the tombs knelt a black haired, porcelain skinned woman adorned in a long-sleeved white lace gown wielding two blades across her chest. "A rather dangerous stance to have for a woman wearing a blindfold." Caste said aloud. And just as she'd predicted, the woman's entire body tensed in response to the sound of her voice. She almost felt pity at how easily she'd be able to take this card down as the title "Maiden of Two Swords" appeared, glowing eerily in the nighttime fog. Being that The Two of Swords usually represented a mental stalemate and an inability to move, Caste couldn't help but believe her challenger would be entirely unable to fight back at all. "I'll be gentle. I promise not to bruise you too badly." Casterline sincerely disliked the idea of hurting an immobile target, but she also sincerely disliked being trapped. The frightening howls echoing in the distance only served to fortify her resolve even further. She wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. The sky turned red as blood. Blackened, decaying hands reached from the earth beneath their unmarked headstones, the howling ceased...and The Sword Maiden slowly stood from her place among the dead. "Oh shit..." Caste's knees began to knock as The Maiden took a few steps toward her.