Make a choice, move forward

In the cold night of the hospital, Lumière shifted slightly in his bed. Then a bit more, until he was tossing and turning in his sleep. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes furrowed tight and began to twitch; he let out deep, distressed whimpers.

“Move forward.”

“Move forward.”

“Move forward.”

The countless voices in his nightmares overlapped each other, echoing endlessly as Lumière clutched at his head within the infinite darkness.

“Don’t you feel like a fool? You said you wanted change, but what progress have you made? Where are you now? What have you gained, besides scars?” It was a familiar, chiding voice. It was childish, reckless, impatient, crazy. It was Lain. He appeared in front of Lumière like a specter. His silhouette faded in and out as if it were permeable, and his eyes were like red dots within the darkness.

Lain knelt down in front of Lumière. “So, fool, will you stay sitting down?”

Lumière didn’t reply. He bit at his lip, his eyes gazing down at the ground.

“Fool, fool. Why do you keep saying this? He isn’t a fool, he’s a coward.” The voice that continued on was also familiar. His silhouette morphed constantly into descending feathers- like the remnants of crows, glowing eyes as black as night. It was darkness, it was fear, it was Despair.

Lumière continued his silence. His gaze felt as if it would bulge out of his head. He begged endlessly within his mind that they would stop talking; he begged that the nightmares he had created in the waking world for his own gain would stop pursuing him in his constant unconscious suffering.

“Don’t forget, we’ve already built the foundation.” The figure that spoke next sounded exactly like Lumière, but even he could tell who it represented. It was one who orchestrated fate.

When Lumière glanced up, he saw that the silhouette of that Demon of the Garden bore a long fluttering cloak. His eyes were a terrifying violet hue, reminding Lumière of the three planet-sized eyes of Mr. Sand. “Do you fear failure?”

For the first time, Lumière spoke. “No.”

“Can you accept that the phantoms act without facing defiance?”

“No.”

“They do as they did to Elise unto others. Is this something you’ll leave be?”

In unison, the three figures knelt down next to Lumière, staring at him with deep, maddening gazes. Ophelia grasped at Lumière’s hair, pulling him in close as he spoke.

“It seems you need a reminder. Don’t you ever forget what they did to you. Don’t forget how they changed you. Don’t forget what they took from you. You had a heart until they pried it from your chest. You had hope until they carved it away. You had a family until they took her from you."

“Don’t forget.” Lain cursed.

“Don’t ever forget.”

“Kill them.”

“Kill them all.”

“The residents of the Garden await your call.” Ophelia smiled. “Awaken the Garden.”

The last sentence repeated in the distance as the figures dissipated. In the darkness, Lumière remained, bound by the red strings that stretched into the distance. Lumière’s eyes remained shut. In the darkness, he felt the connection between him and the three he had previously formed a contract with as Ophelia. They were the strings bound to him- they were the strings that bound him.

‘In the darkness… can’t you see it? In this state, these connections that you’ve made… they’re omnipresent.’

As soon as Lumière opened his eyes once more, he saw that red strings had appeared in the air, stretching endlessly in the darkness. However, no matter which direction he looked to where each string resided, their origin remained the same.

The red strings were tied to him, digging into his flesh painfully, grounding him to the cold floor of the abyss. They weren’t just shackles. Lumière realised that fact quickly. When he touched upon the strands with his hand, he heard booming echoes in the distance, as if eruptions had occurred far away. Seconds passed, and then minutes, without any change in the atmosphere. Then, as he was about to rest his eyes once more and try to awaken, he heard a voice.

‘Mr. Ophelia, is that you?’

As he touched upon the string that was branded to the runes on the Four of Hearts, Juno, he could feel the connection between them open up. Then, using an illusionary whisper, he spoke aloud.

“House of Cards.”

—

As Juno left the alleyway where he had met the leader of the Black Rats gang, Massimo Leonetti, he reached to place his hat back on his head. However, his grip faltered, and the hat dropped to the muddy floor below. His gaze shook, and his mouth grew agape. He heard the murmurs of a familiar voice.

“House of Cards.”

He felt as if an endless darkness had enveloped him. It plunged him into a state of fear, reminding him of the commission they had undertaken to defeat the previous Five of Hearts, Johan Basque. He realised instantly that the Demon of the Garden, Ophelia had spoken to him by some sort of means.

‘The House of Cards? Is this a call from Mr. Ophelia?’ Juno’s lips curled up into a grin. ‘I thought that the deal with Black Rats would be the most interesting thing happening today…’

Juno reached down towards the ground, picking up his hat and quickly shook the dirt off before continuing into the street to track down the House of Cards.

—

Back in the Cathedral’s hospital, Lumière awoke in his bed. He had just finished alerting the other contractees he had formed an agreement with. He took a moment to sit at the edge of his bed in silence. In the darkness, his eyes shook violently.

Before long, he stood up from his seat, pulling his common outfit over his night clothes before donning his classic midnight-black coat. Then, he stepped past the other members of the White Roses who slept soundly, not caring for the noise he made doing so. At the edge of the room, he stood hovering over the bed of a boy who similarly tossed about in his sleep.

“Wake up.” Lumière spoke coldly, pulling Nicole Auirore up by his collar. The boy awoke immediately, his expression overtaken instantly by fear, his voice caught in his throat, leaving him unable to scream. All he saw within the darkness was the dark gaze of a Demon.

“Mr. Demon…” Nicole whispered in a strangled tone of voice, still half-asleep. “Is something wrong? Have I done something wrong?”

Lumière let go of Nicole’s collar, and the boy fell back onto his bed.

“We’re going somewhere, little mage.” His voice was smooth, deep, and devoid of any semblance of emotion. It was odd to Nicole, who could see the parallel in his eyes. It was rage.

Another response hung at the edge of Nicole’s lips, an insatiable urge to ask ‘Where to?’, only to calm the anxiety he felt in his heart. He knew better than to ask that question, so silence was the outcome of his fear.

‘Why is Mr. Demon acting like this suddenly?’

As soon as Nicole had dressed himself, his hair still a mess, the two adjourned from the Cathedral uninhibited. In the silence of the night, they were free to leave.

As the sun began to rise in the distance, a familiar mist enveloped the streets of the middle borough. Rather than turning onto Orulinde Street, Lumière sought the darkness of an alleyway, Nicole trailing anxiously behind him. As he had expected, in the breadth of the mist, a door sat at the end of the alleyway. Amidst trash and debris, an ornate staircase led up to a large wooden door.

In front of the wooden door, Lumière saw a familiar towering figure. As he approached the attendant in front of the door, he pulled a rectangular object out of his jacket. It was the One of Spades card that glowed with a dark malfeasance. Showing it to the attendant, Osiris, he nodded as if to permit his entry.

‘The House of Cards appears where it is most convenient to an attendee. It’s a traveling space. How kind of the host.’ Lumière’s expression remained unchanged as he ruminated.

“I have a guest. Will that be a problem, Mr. Osiris?” His tone was cold.

“Young master, you know well that only those who carry one of the cards with them are allowed entry into the House.”

Lumière stared at Osiris with a maddening gaze. “I ‘know’ of such a thing?”

Lumière glanced downwards, a grin spreading up his expression.

‘Of course. A card is required. How could one gain entry otherwise? How could I have been so stupid. Of course.”

“Mr. Osiris, what suit is equivalent to the Domain of a Black Mage?”

“That would be the Club suit, young master.”

Lumière turned towards Nicole. “Wait one moment. I’ll be back out to get you.”

Nicole reached his hand out as if to protest, but no words could exit his mouth. His anxiety was the enemy of his attempts to avoid it altogether.

As Lumière entered the House of Cards, he slicked back his messy hair that had collected moisture under the morning mist.

“Is the One of Clubs currently present!?” Lumière shouted into the hall where many had gathered, talking genially or playing games at the many tables scattered about. However, sensing such an interruption, many gazes fell upon Lumière, some confused, and some full of maliciousness.

There was a moment of hesitance. The crowd gradually gathered around Lumière as if he was an enemy. As Lumière glanced towards the end of the hall, he saw the familiar face of the host, the Joker, who was capable of rendering his servants to red mist in an instant. Still, that was no longer Lumière’s perception of the Joker. In reality, the host of the House of Cards had become someone Lumière could trust to act in his own interests. After all, anything Lumière tried to do carried the aspect of an entertaining ‘performance’.

Entertainment, at the heart of it, was something Lumière knew could move the Joker to act.Before long, a figure stepped out from the crowd. He had straight black hair tied behind his head, and he wore a commoners garb that was reminiscent of the citizens of the Lower Borough. However, there was no sense of illness or poverty about him, just a malfeasant aura that made Lumière subject to want to vomit. He could see the shimmering of the shadow underneath the man.

“The One of Clubs?” Lumière asked.

The man nodded in response.

“I would formally challenge you to a duel.”

In the distance, the Joker’s amiable expression widened into a grin. “A duel? Are you a fool, little dove? Don’t you know that a club isn’t equivalent to a spade? To mix domains of magic, are you some pioneer of suicide methods?”

Lumière, as well as the crowd turned their gazes towards the Joker.

“Will you sanction the duel or not?”

“There’s no purpose to it.” The Joker replied, smiling.

Still, Lumière repeated his question. “Will you sanction the duel?”

There was silence from the Joker for a moment, before he let out a pleased laugh.

“You really are an interesting person, One of Spades!” He raised his hand towards the two figures in the center of the room, enveloping them in a large transparent barrier that blocked the senses of the room around them. It was a barrier- an ambit. Poe’s Gnosis had mentioned it once before, a strange connection to the world that powerful figures could sense and manipulate, transforming the area around them. “However, there’s really nothing for either of you to gain from this. Besides the exchange of cards, I’ll add something on top of it for the both of you. After all, this is quite entertaining to me.”

The Joker seemed to lose himself in thought before speaking once more. “Alright, I’ve thought of something quite entertaining. The winner of this bout will be entitled to one wish, granted by me, as long as it remains in my power to do so.”

There was an eruption of murmurs about the House of Cards. Genial conversations had turned to whispering rumours, and the games that had been occurring around the hall were ceased in favour of watching the scene between them. Soon, all the figures in the House of Cards had gathered.

“That’s not really something I care much about. Just get on with it.” Lumière replied.

The man known as the One of Clubs looked at Lumière curiously. He couldn’t for a moment understand why a Spades holder would want to duel with a non-conforming domain. After all, trying to enter a separate domain of magic was tantamount to suicide- one could only remain as they were. Ironically, chasing a separate identity, disregarding pretending, was death for an individual.

“Start.” The Joker spoke aloud.

The One of Clubs instantly raised his hands. As if pulled by strings, the shadows underneath him began to twist and turn, lurching towards Lumière.

“Fancy.” Lumière spoke aloud. He reached into his coat and pulled his firearm from his holster, aiming it down and pulling the trigger. Before the shadows had any opportunity to make contact, their manipulator had lots a portion of his head. Pools of blood and slimy greyish brain matter made their way to the floor, and as the attendants of the House of Cards watched with a mixture of horror and surprise, Lumière stepped over towards the body. He reached into the jacket pocket of the deceased man and procured a rectangular object. It had the design of a man whose head had been replaced with the image of a black clover.

‘How ironic.’

Lumière glanced up towards the Joker as he shook his boot, spraying blood across the carpet.

“That was quite quick. Do you approach all matters with such urgency?”

“Only when I have prior engagements.”

“How funny. Well, I suppose you remain the victor. It was fairly entertaining. So, what kind of wish does the little dove have?” The Joker smiled mischievously.

Lumière thought for a moment before replying. “A private room. Please keep one empty for me at all times.”

“That’s it? That’s all you would wish for?”

“I can’t think of anything else right now, and I would prefer not to waste my time standing here.” Lumière replied simply.

The Joker nodded, entertained. “That’s quite alright. You really are interesting, little dove. I can’t wait to see what kind of interesting scenes you will find yourself in in the future. Really, it seems like fun follows you about at all times.”

Without replying to the grand entity, Lumière turned his back to walk back to the entrance of the House of Cards, the crowd watching as his cloak fluttered quietly behind him, too stunned to speak a single word.

Then, as he stepped outside, Lumière placed the card in Nicole’s hand without saying a word. After Osiris branded a mark onto Nicole’s hand, he was allowed entry into the House of Cards, still too anxious to speak aloud. At that time, the attendees of the hall had already returned to their own dealings. However, they remained weary of the black-cloaked figure that stepped softly through the House of Cards, making his way to the back of the room as a boy trailed fearfully behind him.

In a private room in the back of the House of Cards, three familiar figures had gathered, both anxious and curious of the Demon of the Garden’s intentions. Then, to their surprise, he stepped through the door at the edge of the room. In the center of the private room, a long polished wooden table was surrounded by ornate chairs, of which each member in attendance took a seat. Leading Nicole to sit at the side facing the other three, Lumière stood at the head of the table.

A simple sentence echoed in his head. ‘Awaken the garden. Awaken the garden. Awaken the garden.’

As soon as the figures at the table had settled, Lumière addressed them. He held his arms high in greeting, and a cold expression remained on his face.

“Fables, welcome to the Mythos Garden.”