Chapter two: Debt of Redemption.
The same day of 'His' awakening.
Surrounded by the crawling gray fog, the Fool looked forward. 'His' gaze fixed towards the woman that rested calmly over a stone altar, one engraved with simple but dominant symbols, that had replaced the ancient bronze table inside of Sefirah Castle.
'He' had already tended to the injuries of the Tarot Club, seeing so that each of them didn't have corruption, curses or even the most minimal injurie. And yet, 'He' had seen how damaged they were, how tired they had grown from battle. 'He' saw the pain that reflected outwards from inside their eyes.
In this situation 'His' heart brimmed with humanity, allowing him to feel the same pain as 'His' arcana. But apart from them, it also allowed 'Him' to clearly have an unexpected taste… the disgusting taste of guilt had also started to nest close to his heart.
This guilt was born from nothingness, after all, the members of the Tarot Club had never been guaranteed to live beyond any more than any other person that meddled inside this twisted world of beyonders.
Still, 'He' felt guilty.
'I'm sorry' he thought, unable to say it to their faces. After all, seeking forgiveness is not something a god must ask from 'His' believers. The Fool's role in this situation was different.
'He' had to once again be strong. To support them in their pain.
The Tarot had fallen silent when they saw the state of Madam Justice, whose body was mostly hidden by the gray fog.
Still, they could see the beyonder characteristic that seeped out of her. It was halted in the middle of the condensation process, leaving only golden ornaments that decorated her body. A cruel confirmation that she indeed had perished, and it wasn't a ruse or illusion from their minds.
They also could see the accusatory remnant. The terrible curse that kept itself attached to her body. It was now suppressed by the might of the gray fog, but even then, a fairly discernible aura was still gnawing at her.
They looked at her inert figure with confused eyes. With weak eyes. With eyes that lacked the necessary strength to accept the reality in front of them.
Justice was dead.
Slowly the sound of cries filled the palace.
The cries of Magician and Judgement didn't make any sound, just tears moving slowly along their faces. Fors stood frozen, with unfocused eyes. Xio did her best to stop her own tears, but with no success. They held each other's hand all the while.
Two demonesses, suspected of being the minor arcana of the later stood silently behind them, knowing that silence was the best option. Close to them, a hunter looked at Madam Magician with a pained expression, and lone spectator frequently used placate on himself, as if seeking to maintain the composure in front of a noble mentor.
Lumian could only present a gaze full of pity towards his major arcana, a look so similar to the one she had offered him after she found him in Cordu.
The Star was just barely keeping it together. He clenched his fists, his mind wandered to the past in Tingen. By his side, the Moon tried his best not to start crying, he tried to keep a dignified figure in front of the death of a fellow member.
Madam Hermit was shaken, trembling almost imperceptibly. She was scared, scared to seek answers, scared to move, scared to ask her god what 'He' was going to do. 'Lady Bernadette…' she pleaded in her mind, as if she was once again a child that sought the protection of her mother.
Mr. Hanged Man had reddened eyes that no matter how much he tried, refused to look at the girl. He had seen many deaths before, ever since the church of storms, while being a fake pirate, to even at his present role in the church of the Fool.
But not as a member of the Tarot. Loss inside of this majestic space surrounded by gray fog seemed to hit a strange and painful point, one weakness that he didn't know about. He could only be conscious about his fellow arcana, and the god they served.
The Sun stood by his side, his fists clenched and eyes watery. His mind replaying the kindness and warmth that Madam Justice had shown him ever since he became a member.
He couldn't help but compare it to the coldness in her face now devoid of life.
The World stood silently behind all of them.
'Even now… I am deceiving them…' he thought. After all, the act just couldn't stop, and the Fool waking up without the World would bring more troublesome matters.
And the Tarot Club couldn't really handle any other matters at this moment.
A golden retriever cried desperately by Audrey's side.
Susie stood by her owner's, her friend's, her sister's side. Her own feelings overshadowed by a despair unknown to her until then.
'Susie...' thought the Fool as he looked down with pity. 'He' remembered the name of the curious creature that accompanied Justice, one that by accident had become a beyonder.
Then 'He' looked at his Justice. He knew faulting himself would be an oversimplification. He knew that there were many things at play, and that in the end her death was the consequence of an uncountable numbers of variables.
And yet, his heart was heavy.
'He' had called her here, ever since that first foundational meeting.
'He' had deceived her, ever since that day.
And in this lie, even if she was the unsuspecting victim, The Justice Audrey Hall had always given everything to the Fool. Her unconditional trust, admiration, and worship.
Her very life, which should by any means have been easy and without worries. When the moment came, she had given it without a doubt to the Fool she believed in.
Even as The World, he had kept taking from her.
And she had given, from their first session of therapy, to when he despaired to the crushing revelations about his hometown, she had always given him hope and calm. He remembered her questions and her initial enthusiasm about mysticism.
He remembered their talks, and the slow friendship that had been born. He remembered how pleasant was to work and talk with someone that so easily understood him.
Most of the time he attributed this to her pathway, but maybe… just maybe… she was the one that managed to understand him. This was the delusion of a guilty fool.
Even in 'His' slumber he remembered her praying voice, one that kept giving to both of his personas. One that kept him sane, one that gained the capability of soothing his very soul.
One that brought him back.
He remembered how even in the face of fear she marched forward, even if trembling inside. And how the needs of others moved her towards self-sacrifice.
'Were you scared in the end…?' the thought intruded his mind; he asked a question that wouldn't be answered. One that he didn't wish to ever know the answer.
'He' was her god, the object of faith that was supposed to break her fear.
In this 'He' felt as if he had failed her.
Still.
'He' already knew he wouldn't stay impassive, because, for what reason had 'He' come all this way, if not to take back everything that mattered to him?
'He' already knew, this wasn't an acceptable outcome.
"She will come back" sounded the Fool's solemn but mighty voice, breaking the silence.
The members of the Tarot club looked back at him, silent still, as if shocked by the affirmation of the deity in front of them. 'He' didn't pressure for an answer, instead giving them time to catch onto his words.
Slowly, the faces of the Tarot Club filled themselves with a tiny sliver of happiness, of hope, one that just like 'His' humanity, wouldn't be snuffed out by the abyss.
The Fool's voice sounded once again, now in a much lower tone as if to only reassure himself.
"I will bring her back."
'Just as she brought me back' 'He' added in his heart.
***
Sefirah Castle was silent, and the Fool's mind kept going over the events retold by the Tarot Club members. All the while, 'He' stood vigil before the peacefully still woman.
Before departing, the Hanged Man had taken upon himself to explain the events that lead to the confrontation that day.
It all had started when the Tarot club had caught wind of this when during different operations, the most important incident being the one a few months ago on the Fourth epoch Trier, near the extension of the City of Calamity that had crept out from the seal.
There a blessed of Inevitability had managed to infiltrate the gray fog to escape the pursuit of Madam Magician and a few minor arcana.
They had initially attributed this to the intervention of the Celestial Worthy. This made them anxious, thinking that Mr. Fool could be losing the battle against the ancient god.
In hindsight, the gray fog at that moment didn't seem to envelop the blessed of Inevitability, instead it seemed as if the City of Calamity pushed against the gray fog, creating a temporary entrance on a thinner part of the seal, all of this in response to a specific object that resonated with the sealed Sefirot.
This seemed to be confirmed when the Hanged Man, the Sun and Justice had conducted a raid on ritual site. At that place, the three of them fought with several bestowed of the outer deities and ended up discovering a set of keys.
The objects weren't really shaped as keys, but a brief analysis had revealed that they had been formed from a fragmented mineral that seemed to come from outer space imbued within the waters of the River of Eternal Darkness.
'It seems these keys worked closer to a mystical charm than a sealed artifact… still, the effort put by Them into creating these must not have been small'reflected the Fool.
A few more of these incidents had allowed the Tarot to apparently narrow down a central location . The place was a recently discovered island nearing the western continent that had experienced a convergence of ritualistic energy.
Madam Magician had infiltrated the Island several times to assess the situation, gathering enough clues to point at a ritual with the objective of manipulating the gray fog, potentially breaking the seal over the western continent.
In the end, the Tarot Club had decided to destroy the island's ritual sites and eliminate the crucial figures behind the incident. The force gathered was of the total number of major arcana, plus the minor arcana forces under Magician, Judgement and Justice. All in all, a group of more than ten demigods would storm the island and deal a swift blow to the cultists.
It all fell apart too quickly.
Their presence was noticed by the bestowed of the island, and soon they had been swarmed and forced to join with those who supposedly were to have a role of support in the operation.
Then the angels appeared.
Hidden forces of the outer deities had appeared, either born inside of the barrier by mastery of boons, or by infiltrating it by unknown means. They forced Magician to fight instead of concentrating on moving the group.
They slowly separated the Arcana of the Tarot Club.
It wasn't long until they lost sight of Madam Justice. The last abnormality being the completion of a ritual that made the skin of those present crawl under the gaze of multiple indescribable existences.
In front of this information the Fool reflected. 'These events should have happened around the time when the battle with him had come to a climax, most of our efforts had been centered around the consumption of the other… they made use of the absent gaze to influence the gray fog through specific sefirots.'
The Hanged Man had finished speaking about the urgency they had put, and how most of the Tarot Club had been mobilized, only to nearly be wiped out.
He said this bitterly, while grinding his teeth.
'They are going to need time to heal… but it's better that I do not leave them in the dark for long…' thought the Fool.
He personally talked to Susie, reaffirming his promise to bring Audrey back, but urging her that it was better to go with Fors and Xio. She accepted albeit sad of leaving her friend's side.
While the scarlet lights slowly sent them on their way the Fool came to the simplest conclusion. From the very beginning, this scheme came from 'Them', a trap designed to target the Tarot club specifically.
To wipe them out for good.
Had 'His' dear Tarot interfered too much? annoyed them too much? Had they gone against the Great Old Ones that peered into this world far too many times? Enough to guarantee a movement this grand against a single organization?
Was that the reason why the cosmos set their sights on them? To deliver divine punishment?
'So what?' 'His' thoughts retorted in protest.
Tentacles then protruded from inside the curtain covering the Fool, rampaging through Sefirah Castle, breaking columns and making the gray fog stir.
After waking up, after consuming the remnant will of the Celestial Worthy, the Fool's psyche had undergone some changes. Changes 'He' had yet to address.
'I am the god of the Tarot Club, not them, they are insects! They have no right over them only I do!'roared the Fool, making what was left unbroken of Sefirah Castle tremble like the passing of an earthquake.
Still, 'His' wrath was immediately suppressed, and the Palace restored. Madam Justice was in a far too delicate balance, and her soul could easily be affected by the swirling might of the Ruler of the Spirit World.
As his calm demeanor got restored, 'He' continued to analyze the situation. 'His' golden eyes pierced through every nook and cranny, dissecting the estate of the woman without ever touching her.
'His' tentacles, now with delicacy, managed the flow of spirituality so as to not let any unwanted stimuli affect the investigation.
Her body had the formations that condensed from her beyonder characteristic. They adorned both her arms, one of her legs, her chest, neck, and forehead. Each as ornaments seemingly made of golden and white light.
The Fool had temporarily 'stolen' time and the law of beyonder characteristic conservation. That had stopped the decay of the body and possibility of transformation into a sealed artifact.
Although this meant that Audrey's body couldn't be stored anywhere else but inside Sefirah Castle, Klein didn't have any intentions of keeping her anywhere else.
'He' followed his analysis with her soul, a floating mass that mirrored the woman laying over the stone altar minus the protruding beyonder characteristic ornaments.
'He' narrowed his whirling golden eyes.
'He' saw it was beyond broken, pulverized was a better word to describe the state of her soul, its parts so infinitely small that it seemed as if grains of sand were the ones forming a picture.
When 'He' first saw her body, the Fool had moved swiftly to find the 'mass' that represented her soul, taking care of isolating it and enclosing it in a space close to the body. At that moment, his priority had been to bring the soul into Sefirah Castle, where he could better control its condition, this led to not noticing the extent of the perilous condition.
The only silver lining had to be the fact that it didn't have any missing pieces. Every single particle that made up Madam Justice's soul had been retrieved. The Fool relaxed his eyes and sighed, sounding both frustrated and relieved at the same time.
'I'll need something to guide me to reconstruct it… maybe inside the river…' 'His' mind already moving to find a solution.
Finally, 'His' gaze was directed towards the aura that emanated from both the ornament covered body and the suspended soul. After a moment of observing it, 'He' reached a conclusion.
'It's not a simple curse… works more like a bestowment… a bundle of bestowments…' he thought, slowly piecing the probable scenario.
Justice had been separated from the rest, she had fallen into a ritual and had been hit with a bestowment from the Outer deities. This ritual had been aimed at both her soul and beyonder characteristic.
The reason was most likely because one of two scenarios would play out. First, she lost control from the difficulty of accommodating the bestowments, rampaging and killing more members of the Tarot.
Second, she became corrupted by the Outer Deities, becoming a vessel for the descent of another entity related to them, or even themselves in a partial form and temporarily.
And yet what happened in reality differed from these options, as she had died without losing control or getting transformed into a vessel. Both scenarios were avoided.
'What did you do to avoid it…?' Klein pondered, not wanting to channel her spirit, or make a direct divination as to avoid any complications that may ensue. The answers he could find just by looking at the curse were minimal.
And yet, 'He' kept gazing into her fate. How it seemed to intertwine with the beings beyond the barrier, how they seemed to press a yoke into her destiny. 'He' noted a more general pressure, one centered not on Audrey Hall, but on the Spectator Pathway.
'An attack on the spectators…' concluded Klein, making note of visiting a certain priest to confirm his thoughts.
'I'll also need go back to inspect the ritual site in person…' bowing to return to that island. To gain anything that place had to be inspected, even if now it lay in ruins after the rampage of the Lord of Mysteries.
'There is also the matter of them influencing the Sefirots… this either means that the barrier is in a perilous enough state for their influence to reach even through the seal… or that the Sefirots themselves are starting to seep in a greater volume… there may also be a combination of both factors.'
All of these important matters, but pushing them to the back of his mind, Klein focused on continuing his analysis.
'He' reached out and touched the aura, it wriggled in his hand as 'His' gaze examined it. In the end 'He' recognized the major corruptions that composed the essence of the malevolent aura.
The distinctive scent of decay, aimed towards breaking down her state of mind, leading her to lose control.
In between the decay, the alluring aura of desire had seeped in as roots, waiting for the best time to strike and entangle her.
The overbearing sensation of the gaze an overseer, one that seemed to try and impose its will over her.
And finally, a trail of chains made of darkened mercury, a river that all but guaranteed the inevitable end of the ritual would be accomplished.
'His' gaze grew cold once again.
It lingered over the woman, the ornaments and the corruption. The guilt still assailed 'Him', but these new realizations had left the Fool... potently incensed.
'How dare they.'
The Tentacles didn't move this time. But they trembled. They trembled in anticipation; they trembled as if their only purpose was to rip apart those who looked downwards onto earth.
"This world is not for them to do as they please." 'He' said with a grave voice, his eyes stood still upon the malicious aura, only the golden madness moved as if caged within them. As if enveloping a newly acquired obsession.
'He' then took out a silver mirror with ancient patterns, now adorned with starlight at its edges. He didn't ask a question and stayed in contemplation; the only movement was just the constant caressing of the edges of the mirror.
After a moment 'He' broke the silence.
"Arrodes… where is Amon?"