Ep. 30- A Grim Contract

We’ve had a few flashbacks lately. What’s that all about?

A great poet once wrote “Some things are dark, or think they are- but in comparison to me, all things are light enough to see”.

Am I dark? Or do I just think I am?

A Pale Horse should be light enough to see.

It’s a good poem, by the way. You should read it.

ext. hovel stoop night

Back in real time at the Hermit’s Hovel. On lantern bathed stoop stands the Pale Horse, his charcoal eyes glassed over in transportative memory.

Thin, snapping fingers crack like a whip before his eyes. The Horse returns to present-when as the Alice hops in front of him.

ALICE
HEY.

The Pale Horse sighs and shifts his gaze to the forest edge, his eyes downcast- deliberately traveling away from the Alice. It is the habit of a creature who is neither comfortable with nor desiring of the intimacy implied by eye contact.

The Alice, for her part, is not deterred. Alice is not one to place much emphasis on the eyes. She spent a period of her life wearing nothing but sunglasses. When the flu panic took hold of her home for a few years, the surgical masks that came along with the handwashing and social distancing were a relief- she wore them long after the last virus had burned out of public consciousness. She wishes she had a mask right now. Talking from behind a mask is so much easier. The human face wasn’t meant to be this exposed.

Alice can’t help but think of the Queen of Swords at this moment. Her power. Her assurance. Her sharp teeth. Alice wishes she had the Queen’s porcelain mask.

Alice sits down on the stone stoop. Her eyes wander out toward the dark forest, its pale purple aura and straining fauna restraining the barely contained dangers beyond the lantern light. Without thinking, the Alice speaks- she speaks the way you do to someone you still want desperately to like you, so you overshare in a way you wouldn’t with your more guarded, established relationships.

ALICE
I intend to live forever. Hundreds, thousands, millions of years. However long it takes for everything around me to die- that’s how long I’m going to live. I’m not going to miss out on a single thing. I may not be the first person to the party but I sure as hell will be the last one to leave it. That’s how I am. All of this….it doesn’t end until I say it ends. And when I get to the top of the Tower…I’ll make that choice for myself. But before that, anyone who tries to take that choice away from me is my enemy.

There is a silence. The words reach the Pale Horse, the ancient, selfish steed. They dangle in the air like little stars, the sentences forming constellations of accusations. The hitherto unspoken sin that brought Alice to Arcana- selfishness. The Horse, of course, can summon nothing- no apology, no comfort. This complexity extends beyond his grasp. For all his posturing as a human, he is, as yet, still a beast.

ALICE
You know, I haven’t taken much time to ask myself many why questions. Not until we were all sitting in the hovel and I had to listen to all of you talk about ancient history I wasn’t a part of, houses I’ve never stepped inside, crowns I’ve never touched. I don’t like asking why. I don’t usually care about how. But when I think about the start of all this, before the Moon’s meadow, the Lost Highway, that…World Machine, the Tower. Stuff I sorta just took on as a weird dream- until I heard the rest of you talk about it all like it was the most natural thing in the world…I realized…this is real. Real enough that I might not wake up from it. Real enough I might not go home. I can’t go home, can I?

PALE HORSE
(relieved for a question he can actually answer)
Not now. no.

ALICE
Stupid question. Of course I can’t. No one gets to go home at the start of something like this. I don’t think I’d even like to go home, truth told. I mean, I had a cat waiting for me. But she’ll be fine. Cats always land on their feet, ya know? But…no one else, not really. You know I didn’t show up to work once- overslept my alarm, so I just…never went in. Came in the next day and…no one noticed. Not even my manager- he must have skipped checking the system logs that day, never saw that I didn’t even open my computer. And I remember thinking the next day I came in…how long could I be missing before anyone would ask after me?

PALE HORSE
You could have stayed. Just ignored me.

ALICE
Stupid. Why would you come all the way to me if you didn’t know I would hop at the opportunity to leave? You knew. Somehow, deep inside that animal brain of yours, you knew. The same way they always know when they see me- that I’m someone who can’t say no. I’m too curious. I always have been.

Alice turns to look up at the Pale Horse. Her eyes are a bit soppy, her voice thick with emotion at this turn-

ALICE
You used me. Because you knew I wouldn’t say no.

PALE HORSE
…I…yes. I did.

ALICE
How many times have I almost died in this world without knowing it?

PALE HORSE
Several.

ALICE
It’s not that I mind. It’s…there’s a Great Silence. It’s gnawed at me since the day I was born. And I know it’s waiting for me, this big emptiness, waiting for me to fill it. And I’ll get there. But…I want it to be on my terms. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.

Alice stands and she looks the strange Horse in the eye. She is very serious about what she is about to say. It is her one rule.

ALICE
You tried to kill yourself. Okay. Fine. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone else and I’m beyond judgment on that. You have an attitude. You’re not very likable. You’re depressed, too, probably, if that’s even possible. And you tried to take me with you. I guess you needed me to access the Tower. I don’t pretend to get that either, but we’ll set it aside for a second and focus on the point where that was almost the end of me. You almost killed me and I don’t think you even feel bad about it.

A few beats pass. There is a silence between these two, a stillness. A wound that will either bind them together or fester between them. The Horse lets out a steady breath, his next words strained, uncertain.

PALE HORSE
I am sorry.

ALICE
Why did you think it was okay to hurt me?

PALE HORSE
I…don’t know.

ALICE
Will you hurt me again?

PALE HORSE
It’s likely.

Alice slaps the Horse. It leaves a strange clapping sound as her palm smacks the exposed bone of the Horse’s cheek. If he feels pain, it does not register on his face. But his eyes cannot hide the surprise of the strike.

ALICE
You deserve that.

PALE HORSE
Strange way to repay speaking truthfully.

ALICE
Don’t be so casual about throwing away a friend.

The Pale Horse cannot hide his surprise.

ALICE
Well? That’s what we are, right? Friends?

A moment’s hesitation. Uncertainty. This is less about if the Pale Horse considers the Alice a friend, and more about what it means to him if he allows for that. How paradigms would shift, internally, if he admitted to such a thing. Finally…

PALE HORSE
Fine.

It’s a bleak admission, but an admission all the same. The Alice takes it for what it is. Her face shifts back to its slack, un-serious default.

ALICE
You owe me. Big time. I don’t take almost getting killed lightly.

A pause. And maybe…a smirk? Perhaps the Pale Horse relenting a bit here to the invitation of banter.

PALE HORSE
How do I make this right.

ALICE
Find something to live for. Or someone.

PALE HORSE
Someone…

ALICE
And don’t die until I say it’s okay, deal??

PALE HORSE
And you?

ALICE
When it’s time…I’ll let you know.

An understanding between the two- a grim one, but an understanding nonetheless. It will suffice. The Pale Horse sets a serious look and extends a gloved hand.

PALE HORSE
We have a contract.

ALICE
Always so serious. But yeah. Friends.

Alice takes the hand. They shake, their hands lingering for a moment longer than natural.

ALICE
One of us has to let go.

PALE HORSE
Is it supposed to be me or you?

ALICE
…

A slight blush tinges her cheek at this question, although it is unclear if the Horse even senses- or reciprocates this strange moment. Their hands eventually break, a mutual retreat, and they each pass under the doorframe into the hovel.