Ep. 77- The Coin & Blade Return

The Real is full of terrible things.

Disease.

Death.

Poverty.

When the Nervously Awake open their front doors every morning, these are the 3 horsemen they fear.

Oh, was there supposed to be 4 horsemen?

Apologies.

The 4th is oft’ forgot, fittingly unseen-

It is Absence.

Like disease, absence creeps unseen. Like poverty, it limits and constricts. And like death, it creates sudden, irrevocable separation.

But absence also carries a unique trait that differs it from its tragic brethren-

Absence is necessary.

It is the hated job, the loveless marriage, the thankless mentorship, the lay-away dreams. Absence is the unspoken moment your true self retreats from the experience of The Real. It is the aftermath in front of the mirror when you no longer recognize your own face, the bags under your eyes, the torn creases which play out the passage of years. It’s the moment you answer the phone and are surprised by your own voice.

Absence is necessary. To remove yourself is the most obvious defense against The Real. The Nervously Awake employ it to extremes- and return from it in equal measures, like a madman waterboarding themselves in a show of false piety to an angry god.

In its necessity, Absence possesses the power to kill a human spirit that might otherwise endure its fellow marauders.

ext. hovel night

The Hermit’s hovel, site of the first meeting of the Discarded. It is now a burnt husk of a building, the remaining timbers and thatch crackling, kicking sparks into the night.

A bag of coins drops into the dirt. A black armored boot grounds into the earth behind the bag.

The Knight of Pentacles, dark armor gleaming in the orange embers of his handiwork, makes a grim sign with his left hand, his eyes closing briefly as his thin lips spread into a smile.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
Pardono.

From the forest’s edge, the Knight of Swords emerges from the treeline. In front of her is a scrambling mess of limbs and rags- the Hermit as he is frog marched at sword’s point ahead of the Knight. The Coin Knight opens his eyes and turns to regard their mark.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
To think a Major Arcana would fall so far as this- living in the hovel of a penniless peasant.

HERMIT
It is no sin to live modestly.

The Coin Knight spits at this, as if the very idea is distasteful to him.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
It is unforgivable. To be created- crafted by the hands of gods- only to reject those gifts and live so…commonly. To reject such wealth- you might as well be dead.

The Knight of Swords forces the Hermit to his knees. He clutches his staff, pitifully looking up at the disdainful Knight of Pentacles.

HERMIT
Burning the hovel of an old man! You minor arcana have no respect. Waving swords and knocking down walls. If you wanted something from a harmless old man, you could have just asked!

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
HARMLESS? If this misadventure had not cost me personally, I would laugh. You may play at being the witless old man on your own time- but when the Knight of Coins is on the clock, your charades will not be tolerated.

The Knight of Pentacles, significantly frustrated by the very sight of this impoverished higher power, bites his lip and takes a breath of calm. He levels his gaze and the Knight of Swords.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
How did you find him?

KNIGHT OF SWORDS
It wasn’t hard. He was carousing within the depths of the forest, playing at being a wild animal.

HERMIT
Is it a crime to make use of my powers outside of the Tower, now, as well? Besides, wild animals make for enjoyable friends. You should try listening to them, occasionally, instead of just hunting everything that frustrates your limited capacities for communication.

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
(leaning in)
How’s this for communication?
(to the Knight of Swords)
Execute him.

KNIGHT OF SWORDS
(not convinced this is possible)
C-can I?

HERMIT
I was wondering the same thing…

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES
Wrath is the right of the rich, and I benevolently bestow this right onto you, So-Called-Queen.

The Knight of Swords holds up her sword, seems hesitant for a moment.

HERMIT
Now, young lady, don’t do anything rash- besides, wouldn’t you like to hear more about the Queen of Sw-

The Knight ignites her sword, which bursts into flames. The illumination of her blade reveals a fierce, glowering visage.

KNIGHT OF SWORDS
There is no queen. You would do well to remember it- both of you.

The Knight of Pentacles only smiles at this. The Hermit clears his throat a bit, troubled by this reaction…it was not the development he was hoping for.