Ep. 48- A Child of Swords and Vengeance

ext. fortress roads day- flashback

The OLD QUEEN OF SWORDS towers over our Young Queen- black robes rigidly cling to her long, spindly form. The Old Queen’s face- sanded with age, yet sharpened with experience, belies a set of emerald green eyes that flash with cunning wisdom. She regards the Young Queen with equal measures curiosity and gravity. As she speaks, her hand rests on the golden sheath of a ceremonial longsword which hangs at her belt- not as a threat, but as a matter of easy habit. As she see’s the Young Queen’s eye drift to the sword, the Old Queen notes the situation and shifts her hand from the sheath. She kneels down, meeting the fierce gaze of the bruised Young Queen.

OLD QUEEN OF SWORDS
Young lady, do you enjoy violence?

YOUNG QUEEN OF SWORDS
I told them they’d be sorry if they caught me.

The Old Queen regards the girl’s injuries- blood trickling from her nose, blood- other’s blood- intermixed with her own, a gleaming trickle from sharpened incisors to her muddy chin.

Behind the Old Queen, a Guard struggles to his feet, picking his sword- now broken- off the pavement. The Old Queen notes this, turning back to the Young Queen.

OLD QUEEN
And just how did you manage that…?

YOUNG QUEEN
It was either go to a jail cell, AGAIN, or…not. So I chose not…and made them stay away.

The Young Queen leans in closer, whispering confidentially.

YOUNG QUEEN
You should watch out, too. I have demon powers. People who get too close get hurt.

OLD QUEEN
(also whispering)
Oh, you don’t have to mind worrying me. Some people call me a demon too.

YOUNG QUEEN
But you’re the Queen of Swords.

OLD QUEEN
All the more reason for people to call me nasty names.

YOUNG QUEEN
Then you’re not afraid of me?

OLD QUEEN
No, and I don’t think you’re a demon. I think people simply go out of their way to think up mean names instead of admitting the obvious-

YOUNG QUEEN
What’s that?

OLD QUEEN
(smiling, mischievously)
That you are a strong young woman. Now then- what if I were to tell you I could teach you a way to keep out of the jails- and the hands of bullies- forever. Not just with your powers- but with a sword.

YOUNG QUEEN
I don’t have a family- I can’t learn under the Knights of Swords or become a squire.

OLD QUEEN
(places a hand on the shoulder of the Young Queen)
Then I will have to stand in as your family- and you will have to make due. If you think that’s agreeable to you.

The Young Queen’s eyes widen as she realizes the offer- and she immediately leaps forward, embracing the Old Queen. It’s a brief, surprising embrace- and the Old Queen’s eyes widen for a moment with shock at the audacity- and then soften to acceptance.

The Queen rises and turns to the guards.

OLD QUEEN
Hear me, you who have ears. This child is now my protege- her fate is my fate, and my fate hers. Take her to the Fortress of Swords and see to her needs. I will rejoin you after I have concluded my tour of the ramparts.

The Guards, for their part, are flabbergasted, but obedient. A quick salute and the Young Queen is whisked away with the shocked murmurs of onlookers.

As the Old Queen watches the Young Queen disappear deeper within the rampart roads, a flash of light crackles behind her. The Old Queen turns find a slit of light- a tear in the very fabric of her environment- out of it steps a powerfully built woman- she is hairless, thick with muscle and swaddled in simple white robes befitting a monk or prophet. She is the Major Arcana STRENGTH.

The Queen bows, removing her crown in the presence of the Major Arcana. Already, a racket has built as word passes across the townspeople and soldiers. Like moths drawn to a flame, the people come flocking to the golden aura of Strength, who smiles benevolently at all, while projecting an atmosphere of untouchability. Indeed, it is unclear if any could gain closer access to her at all- save the Old Queen, no one breaches a six foot radius around Strength. Instead, the throngs remain content to frame the coming conversation as extras one might see in an old painting.

OLD QUEEN
Major Arcana Strength, revered of the Tower, how can the humble House of Swords be of service.

When Strength speaks, it is with utter tranquility- this is the tone of a woman who holds mastery over every domain and fears no challenge.

STRENGTH
Hail, Old Mother of Swords. I come to reclaim my Lost Student- whom I believe you’ve just met.

OLD QUEEN
You refer to my protege?

STRENGTH
(a soft smile)
You would claim the Little Demon as your own?

OLD QUEEN
I claim no one. I invited her to my house. She accepted.

STRENGTH
What interest could you have in a street urchin, I wonder…

The pair begin to walk down the road together, as two arguing scholars might- side by side. The throngs of commonfolk follow at their heels, listening with barely contained murmers.

OLD QUEEN
I recognize potential when I see it. For her to use Arcane power at such a young age is not merely remarkable- it is unheard of. And already you’ve given away yet a second point of fixation- she was your student- and she escaped you.

STRENGTH
(kindly)
It seems I’ve given myself away.

The two stop walking. The Old Queen turns, her eyes squinting as her sights pierce the golden glow of Strength’s face.

OLD QUEEN
If you wanted her, you could burn down this entire fortress, slaughter my guards to the last man, and simply take the girl. But you haven’t. And what’s more- she didn’t escape- you let her leave. And you did so knowing she would come here. You Major Arcana might think us Minors are quite dull, but we aren’t blind. This girl- whoever she is- her training didn’t go to your liking, so you let her think she was escaping your harsh teachings- and now you leave her in our care, believing the child will accept me as a kinder, wiser teacher in your stead.

Strength does not show anger at this. But rather, she can only smile even louder, and then let out a brassy laugh.

STRENGTH
You’re right. I could tear this entire fortress apart- down to the last brick, if I wanted. But that’s not the way of Strength- sometimes, restraint requires more of us than any martial act might. And in this case- I choose restraint. As for the rest…you are right. The child’s training went poorly. I thought she could use a more…human touch…you will teach her the ways of the sword- quenching the thirst I could not.

OLD QUEEN
But you must know that we can’t compete with you in training her Arcane energy. We simply don’t have the experience-

STRENGTH
Of course I know, Old Mother of Swords. That’s precisely the point.

OLD QUEEN
You want her to fail?

The Old Queen furrows her brow for a moment in thought, then returns to Strength.

OLD QUEEN
What is this child?

STRENGTH
She’s a demon, Old Mother. And it would be best if she never understood that to be anything more than a slur.

OLD QUEEN
I’m not satisfied with that answer.

STRENGTH
It is all the answer you will get. Such is the fate of the Minor Arcana.

OLD QUEEN
(impetuously)
We will see. You Majors imagine your machinations to be perfect, but though gods you may be, we are all but slaves to the will of the Tower. Your student might surprise you yet.

STRENGTH
Pray that is not so, Old Mother. If that demon chooses to surprise us it will be the end of your house- and perhaps of us all.

Again, the tear of light appears, snapping back the edges of reality behind Strength. The onlookers scramble away, fearful of the strange sight of slipspace. Strength begins to step into the light.

OLD QUEEN
(calling after her, almost taunting)
You know, there are some old books, texts, scholars and such. Things that many are mistaken in believing the House of Swords does not bother with. Texts about a lost card- a demon who will play a role in resetting this age.

STRENGTH
(still smiling)
She isn’t The Fool, if that’s what you mean. That role is reserved for another.

OLD QUEEN
Oh, no, not the fool. But how about the tireless jaws of Vengeance?

For the first time this entire conversation, Strength stops smiling. A shadow passes over her face. She replies with a quiet, fierce tone.

STRENGTH
In curiosity lies peril, Old Mother. Mind that lesson well.

And with this, Strength climbs into the tear of light, the tear sealing behind her. The Old Queen is left to ponder the ominous tones of her final words.

Somewhere deep within the ramparts, the Young Queen marvels at the gates of the Fortress of Swords- her new home- and that of her second teacher.