Ep. 35- The Breaking Dawn

Sometimes, Alice is me.

Sometimes, she’s people I know.

Sometimes she’s just herself and she does something that makes me say “gee where did that come from?”

It’s nice to be surprised.

int. house of the sun throne room day

The massive doors of the throne room open. The Knights of Swords and Pentacles, as well as the Page of Swords, a step behind the two knights, enter. Pentacles cruises to a lead ahead of the other two, his face a grim mask of confidence. Page of Swords continues to lag behind, his wounds as yet not healed and his head bandaged. The Knight of Swords remains at center, her watchful concern readily betrayed despite a normally stony visage.

All three reach the foot of the Sun’s throne and kneel.

Still, silence. The Knight of Pentacles looks to the Knight and Page at his back. The Page opens his mouth to speak, but a firm look shot over by the Knight of Swords closes his mouth.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
Your Majesty, the Sun. We bring news of those who have turned against you. The House of Wands has declared itself your enemy, sending agents against us to stand in the way of executing your objectives. In your name, we sent their Hallowed Knight of Wands back unto the flames from which he came. Pardono.

PAGE AND KNIGHT OF SWORDS
(solemn)
Pardono.

The Sun silently ponders this for a moment, his unblinking face leering at the three warriors. At last, he speaks. His voice is soft, quiet and with a lilt that betrays condescension- it is the guise of a tool that draws blood at even the gentlest of handling.

THE SUN
The Fool is not in your possession. This is a failure.

PAGE OF SWORDS
(standing)
Of course we failed! She was with a Major Arcana, and your so-called all seeing light didn’t see that coming-

The Sun raises a single finger. A soft beam of light pours from his fingertip, traveling in a straight line it lands between the eyes of the Page of Swords, pooling at the traditional landing point of the third eye. The Page drops to his knees, hands gripping his head as his eyes roll back. The Knight of Pentacles remains bowed- if anything, now lower than ever. The Knight of Swords catches the glimpse of her suffering companion and averts her gaze from his pleading convulsions.

The Sun continues to speak as he sustains this attack. From the rolled eyes of the Page, images pour forth illustrating the events of the prior battle, played forward at tremendous speed for the Sun’s benefit.

THE SUN
I see it. An obvious plan. What this vessel sees as doubts and shadow, my light reveals as truth to be born out. The Horse of Death walks again. No rider., but still…considerably powerful. He bears the Fool to the Tower, but has once failed. The House of Wands bears them away…they will go to the Hermit. Rally other houses. Seek to reactivate the Tower.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
With due respect, your majesty, the other houses are broken. Swords is split. The king of Cups has disappeared within the Tower and the remaining house has all but collapsed. And Pentacles is sworn to you. The House of Wands will not hold their own against us.

The Sun releases his beam from the Page of Sworods, who slumps over, light evaporating from his eyes, smoldering smoke from his ears, nose, mouth, hands still clutching at his forehead, fingertips twitching.

PAGE OF SWORDS
(a raspy whisper)
Help…h-elp…can’t…see. Where are you, Knight…

THE SUN
(ignoring this)
Capture the Fool. Kill all who aid her. This is the Sun’s decree. Start with the Hermit.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
We will likely be a step behind when we reach him. If the Fool isn’t there-

THE SUN
Scorched. Earth. I will send my other children ahead to the Valley of the Bones. If the Fool has moved on already, she will be trapped ot the front and the rear. There will be no escape- and no more tiresome interference from the Hermit.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
(bows once more)
Pardono.

The Knights of Pentacles and Swords rise. The Knight of Swords stops at the slumped body of the Page. She kneels down, grabs the Arcane Sword Hilt from his belt, and gripping it tightly, turns and leaves. Pentacles trails behind her, a bemused look flashing across his face. In the Knight of Swords’ own eyes- anger, barely contained- and the welled loss, restrained tears which have no place to fall in the breaking day.