Noble Arcana

The Page of Pentacles is seen gazing at the coin in his hands, seeing the wealth, ambition, power that it comes with. He is only beginning his journey.

Unknown

Victor smiled as he watched Solomon begin to decipher his journals, noting the green vest he was wearing and the frenzied look in his eyes as he began. He floated calmly up and into the library, standing in the air for a few moments and turning his attention to the suit of armor, watching the aura that surrounded it wax and wane second by second. It didn’t appreciate being bound to one spot, but then, royalty rarely enjoyed having to follow orders.

“Things are back on track it seems,” said Victor from where he floated. “I am… impressed with my nephew. I can’t imagine any of the other possible inheritors would have been able to adapt to things as well as he has. In fact it’s rather an annoyance. The boy is so cautious. Had he simply activated the mana transference spell as planned without making the changes he made then I would have been able to solve the matter of that little spirit very easily. Even with my continuous prodding for him to search for more he still shows resistance.”

The knight’s aura tittered a bit, as if in amusement.

“I wouldn’t find too much satisfaction in that. You should know well enough that even my backup plans have backup plans. The boy is clever and talented, I’ll admit, but he cannot outfox me. Things are too stacked against him anyway.”

The aura oscillated up and down in broader waves.

“Work with him? He is talented, but he is no match for what is coming. No, I will need to be in control for success to be a possibility.”

The oscillations spiked up then steadied.

“Of course I was defeated. I knew I would be. That’s what this whole plan is. With the mana of a god instead of a drunken blue boot, a younger body, greater resources… I can win this time. I can defeat Magni.” He turned his spectral head toward the knight. “My nephew will never be able to stand against him. If not for my preparations he would’ve descended on this manor again already and slaughtered him.”

The knight’s aura tittered again.

“You may call me a coward all that you wish. An ironic insult though, from one sealed inside a hunk of iron for the same sin.”

The knight’s aura retreated, going silent.

“Don’t forget that I don’t do this only for myself. Magni’s plans, the extent of them, they will tear Drakthiss apart. Hundreds of thousands of people will die, and the empire you died for shall itself die.”

The suit of armor remained silent.

The Hermit shook his head. “I don’t know why I insist on speaking with you. It’s a bad habit I developed with my homunculi and here I am continuing it.”

He returned to the hidden study, floating through the sealed wall and hovering above Solomon, his presence spreading a chill through the air.

…

The next morning Solomon awoke early, wrapping himself in a green robe and walking quickly to his desk. There were a number of moves he’d need to make in order to make sure everything having to do with the former mayor was settled as smoothly as possible. The first thing he did was write several short messages as well as a letter.

When Melissa arrived with his coffee in hand he was sealing the letter with the stag-head symbol of the Morrow family. He took the hot cup she offered gratefully and took a long sip. His body and mind were exhausted from the fight the previous day, but he also felt a kind of manic energy from his victory. He had a sense that all of his problems could be solved. He’d killed a god after all.

He placed the cup on the desk and gestured to the pile.

“I have messages here for Vantus and Feist. I won’t be going into town today.”

“I’m sure that they’ll understand,” said Melissa as she took the messages, her eyebrows raising a bit as she saw the address on the letter. She quickly corrected her expression, placing the letters at her side.

“Would you like anything particular for breakfast?”

“Yes. Spiced eggs and some fruit.”

She nodded and walked away with the letters, heading to Claire first to give her his order.

He continued to be impressed with her. She had resisted asking why he was sending a letter directly to the Union. That was the mark of a good servant, not prying.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The purpose of the letter was simple. He was requesting an investigation into the matter of what had happened in the Black Wood. The mayor managing to kidnap and hold those girls alone in the woods seemed to indicate something beyond the normal. He was certain that Vantus would’ve already requested the support of the Etling guard, and they would definitely come to that conclusion themselves. By making the request to the Union himself he could better control the situation. He just had to hope that the Knight of Pentacles would provide him with the requested item to hide his mana. If she didn’t, he’d use the other methods she’d described as long as he needed to.

He finished eating his breakfast and got dressed. With Melissa out and most of the servants concentrated on dealing with the fire damage on the other side of the manor, Solomon was able to go into the study and retrieve the remnants of the Homunculi he’d lost. He placed them all gently into a sack and climbed out of the library window with the door still locked. He also had a leather pouch and some pliers he’d taken from Barnabus.

He first walked to the garden, finding an area with fresh, easy-to-move, dirt and carefully buried the homunculi with a nearby shovel.

“Thank you for your service,” he muttered as he patted the ground flat.

He looked around to ensure he wasn’t being watched and made his way across the ground to the black wood. He walked inside confidently, no longer feeling the sense of foreboding that had been a byproduct of the Lord of the Black Wood’s existence. He followed the same route he’d taken back to the small rocky ruins he’d fought in the previous day.

The path was much clearer now that the guard had moved through to retrieve Neiman’s corpse. It took far less time for him to get through and when he arrived he walked to the edge of the ruins where the corpse of the god was still sitting. He removed and folded his coat, placing it on a relatively clean stone, then rolled up his sleeves. He moved all of the obscuring branches from the god’s corpse. He then retrieved the pliers and leather back he’d brought and approached it again, crouching down. From there he began removing the shards of null-metal embedded in its bark-like skin, one by one.

The shards were too valuable to simply leave in the corpse, and he also worried that the null-metal would interfere with his plans for disposal. He spent more than an hour carefully going over every inch of the creature and tearing out any glint of metal before depositing it in the bag. It wasn’t too difficult to find the shards. Most were relatively large, and when his hand came near them he could feel the negative effect on his mana. Because of this he was fairly certain he managed to remove every single piece. From there he covered the body in the branches again.

Once he was done he made his way back through the woods, walking quickly until the manor came into view. He walked calmly through the garden, waving at Poth who popped his head out of the ground as he passed by and made his way through to the still open library window. He looked around and scrambled up and back inside before closing the door. He made his way back into the study and placed the null metal back on the desk, sitting for a few moments to catch his breath.

That night he awoke to the glow of the Hermit statue in the corner of his room. He walked to it confidently, and placed his walking stick in the hermit’s hand. There was momentary blackness, and then he found himself standing in the ballroom of the Arcana. He walked confidently toward the pillar where he found The Knight of Pentacles waiting.

She nodded to him, her helm clanking.

“It’s good to see you alive.”

“You as well.”

“Your concealment item is not yet ready. It will take a month.”

He nodded, that should be within the time he needed it, but it would be cutting it close.

He stayed there with the Knight for a half-hour as he waited for more of the Arcana to gather and once there was a sizable number of them, he walked carefully into their midst allowing his mana to expand a bit and increase his size.

“I have something to offer,” he said, his voice carrying easily and drawing the crowd’s attention. “The corpse of a dead god.” This was how he intended to hide the corpse from discovery and stay safe. If he could obtain a new spell or grimoire in the bargain, all the better.

A hush fell over the gathering as a number of them exchanged glances.

“How exactly does an Ace have such an item?” asked the Four of Wands, a bit of bitterness in his voice, likely left over from how cheaply Solomon had purchased the homunculus grimoire from him.

“You don’t need to believe me. You just need to trust the transaction to the World.”

The whispers began then, but suddenly ceased, all eyes turning to look behind him.

Solomon himself turned around. Looming over him was a figure that seemed to be carved from darkness. His silhouette was that of a shifting cloak atop which sat the head of a goat with massive curled horns and eyes that glowed a bright, smoldering red.

“What manner of god?” he asked in a voice like a whisper.

“A forest spirit, worshipped for a long time by a frontier community. It took brides as sacrifices and kept them alive to serve him.”

“And what is the price?” asked the Devil.

“What do you offer?”

The Devil smiled revealing black teeth that were nearly indistinguishable from the rest of it.

“I can offer much. A reliable spell for summoning a demonic servant, a method to sacrifice another and take their strength as your own, a way to carve off pieces of one’s own soul. Or perhaps you would prefer something more material? A woman or man bound in eternal service to you? Gold that one cannot help but count over and over again?”

Solomon could feel the mana form he was occupying shaking a bit as he spoke, as if the more he listened to the demon the less in control of it he became.

“This demonic servant, he will not attempt to kill me? Or those I wish to keep safe?”

“Not unless you cast the spell improperly and bargain foolishly.”

“That’s the price then.”

The Devil smiled and held out a hand. “World act as witness.”

Solomon reached out and they shook hands.

The devil laughed and became a swirl of darkness before disappearing.

Solomon didn’t have time to react to what had happened before he could feel his mask begin to change, the pentacle at its center growing larger and a red cloth weaving its way around his horns, making it look as if he was a deer that was shedding its velvet.

The Knight of Pentacles approached him, patting his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Page of Pentacles.”