Ep. 20- The Horse’s Master

int. hovel night

The inside of the Hermit’s hovel. Under the soft yellow glow of overhead lanterns, the party, now fully assembled, continues to hold court. The Queen of Swords, the last to enter, stabs her massive sword into the dirt floor of the hovel and sits herself down, her back sliding down the flat of the greatsword, the blade shifting slightly to support her back as she rests against it. Upon her revelation of the Horse’s “Master” being near, the rest of the group- The Devil, The Knight of Cups, Alice and even the Hanged Woman cannot help but lean in with interest. The only one who remains aloof is the Pale Horse, who gives his usual “Hmph” as he remains on the outside of the circle, his back to them as he studies the dingy window in front of him.

ALICE
I’m going to ask a stupid question.

PALE HORSE
Fitting.

ALICE
(shooting back)
Well, if you would ever do something besides pretending to be super mysterious and then calling me a fool whenever I ask about it, I wouldn’t have to-

PALE HORSE
(turning, surprisingly wrathful)
What makes you entitled to know everything, anyway?

QUEEN OF SWORDS
(not looking up)
SILENCE. All of you.

The room follows suit- Alice uncharacteristically clams up and the Pale Horse can only clench his teeth. The moment is broken by the whiskey belch of the Devil.

DEVIL
(smally)
That, uh, that was-

The Queen glares at him.

DEVIL
(quietly)
Good diaphragm control. I’ll be quiet now.

The Queen turns to Alice.

QUEEN OF SWORDS
(not unpleasantly)
Go ahead. Ask your stupid question.

ALICE
(brightly)
Are you the Pale Horse’s master?

PALE HORSE
(loudly)
No.

QUEEN OF SWORDS
(severely)
Do you intend to speak for me now, Pale Horse?

The Pale Horse waves an apology, turns back to the window, his gaze unnaturally fixed outside the room, as though willing himself beyond this time and place. Alice conspiratorially motions to the Hanged Woman and whispers to the Queen-

ALICE
Is it her?

DEVIL
(roars with laughter)
Who, her? No. She’s nobody.

QUEEN OF SWORDS
(icily)
Strike two.

THE DEVIL
(stammering once again)
Less than nobody, actually. Like me. A fallen card.

ALICE
What is a fallen card?

PALE HORSE
(sigh)
Within every being there resides a “card”-

The Queen raises her hand once more and the Pale Horse stops talking.

QUEEN OF SWORDS
Strike three. Bottle. Now.

The Devil looks down at the bottle he has been nursing, fumbles with it as he realizes the Queen’s wish and tosses it to the Queen, who snatches it out of the air. As she catches the bottle she holds out her other hand and the Knight of Cups, who has been dozing in and out to this point, starts awake, fumbles for a nearby mug, and passes it to the Queen’s waiting hand. She upends the bottle and out pours a fine, golden liquid within which can be seen traces of a rush of fiery red- this is Fajro Juice.

Fajro Juice, for those curious, is Arcana’s equivalent to alcohol, albeit with one curious quirk- it can amp the power of its drinker, providing them with a temporary boost of Arcane energy, making them stronger and faster. However, it also amplifies the emotions of its user and long term use can lead to reliance and “short capping”, slang used to refer to someone who has a lower overall reserve of Arcane energy due to an overreliance on Fajro Juice. Overindulging in Fajro Juice can be offset with exertion, assuming the drinker does so almost immediately after imbibing- failing to do so can lead to an “overheat”, a feverish condition that resembles drunkenness. Although it is often consumed recreationally, it is considered a base pleasure amongst the noble types of Arcana and a crutch amongst those who consider themselves warriors. For a Queen, let alone the Queen of Swords, to consume such a thing is…very unusual.

It should be noted that the Queen carries a number of wineskins for the express purpose of always having the juice at her disposal. She is an addict and an unapologetic one at that.

DEVIL
(watching with a grin)
Didn’t take you for a fajro juice addict, Queen.

QUEEN OF SWORDS
So long as I work off the burn, what difference is it to you, Devil?

The Queen lifts her porcelain mask up just enough to reveal a sharp, pointed jaw and crimson red lips. She brings the mug to her lips, takes a long pull of the fajro juice. After doing so she heaves a great breath and her lips curl into a grin that reveals a neat set of sharply filed teeth that would not look out of place on a wild animal. Alice cannot tear her eyes from the strange sight of this regal, yet bestial queen.

QUEEN OF SWORDS
(setting the mug down)
Now then. To your question regarding Fallen Cards- a being’s “card” is a purpose, a power- a conduit, if you will, that feeds into its very sense of self and sources its connection to Arcana- and its Arcane power. A card is the identity that gives us our strength and power. Fallen cards are those who have abdicated or willfully rejected this “divine” appointment…for their own reasons. This rejection can take many forms, but the results are the same- a capping of power, a loss of strength and status, and a shunning from, shall we say… “polite” society. Fallen cards- or, as some might cheerfully call them, “reversed cards”, are the rogues gallery of Arcana, left to their own devices until such a time as they can be redeemed- or discarded…