Forewarned is four-armed.
Later that night, we found ourselves at the cemetery. As if anticipating our arrival, Gironde opened the old, creaking iron gates the moment we arrived. We stepped inside, and he led us into his dimly lit living room.
"You've had a hand in my fate again, haven't you?" I asked, a wry smile playing on my lips.
He grinned in return, his eyes glinting with a knowing amusement. "Fate was already written, Shaytan. You're the one who keeps changing things. If anyone's responsible for it, it's you."
Meanwhile, Alex, who had been quietly nibbling on a cookie, grimaced and quickly returned it to the tray when the Necromancer wasn't looking.
"Tea?" Gironde offered, his smile stretching across his face.
I could practically hear the sarcasm in my thoughts. Only if I can drown you in it... "No, thanks."
"So, have you uncovered anything useful yet?" Gironde tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.
I shook my head. "Actually, I don't think we'll find him."
The flicker of a frown tugged at his lips, though amusement still danced in his eyes.
"We should let him come to us," I continued, my words making Rolo go as pale as a ghost. "And then we'll take him down in one swift blow."
Gironde's smile deepened, a dangerous satisfaction curling at the edges. "What's the plan, then?"
"We'll lure him out. You don't have to worry about that," I explained, though there was an edge of tension in my voice. "Once we have him, our part is done. You need to stop him, kill him."
I knew we were pushing our luck, maybe even crossing a line we couldn't come back from. I was under no illusion—we were walking straight into death's door. From what Rolo had told me, his brother was stronger than us, even if we combined forces. The truth, no matter how it gnawed at my pride, was that we couldn't win. But I had a debt to pay—no more, no less.
Gironde's grin shifted, growing more calculating. "If I may say so, Shaytan, you're very clever."
I met his gaze, my smile matching his in its calculated calm. "We agreed I'd find him for you. Nothing more, nothing less."
Gironde's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Of course, of course. I remember exactly what we agreed upon."
"Once we've got him," I said, my voice laced with tension, "You need to come immediately. I'm not sure we can hold him off without losing our lives. Do you have something... useful up your sleeve for this?"
Gironde hummed thoughtfully, then flicked his fingers. A card materialized between them, and with a deliberate motion, he slid it across the table toward me. The card depicted a skeletal figure wielding a massive scythe, walking across a barren field littered with the dismembered bodies of humans.
"Death," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "How very fitting."
Gironde's smile was wide and knowing. "Always keep it with you, Shaytan," he said softly. "When you've got your 'target,' tear it in half, and I'll be there."
I grinned at him. "Summoning death, are we?"
"You could say that," he replied with an absent smile, his gaze distant for a moment.
I picked up the card and stood, the others following suit almost instantly. Even Gironde stood, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare, quiet anticipation.
When we got home, Rolo was given the room next to mine, and we agreed to leave the door open just in case.
"Don't worry," I reassured him, "If anything happens, I'll hear your heartbeat even through a closed door. I'll be there before you know it."
"How do you hear heartbeats so clearly?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "I've heard of people being able to gauge someone's state of mind by their heartbeat, but this sounds different."
Rolo sat at the kitchen table while I worked on making two mugs of cocoa.
I smiled, shaking my head. "It's an old story, nothing special."
"I'm interested," he said, leaning forward. I sighed deeply, then handed him his steaming mug.
"I was probably around ten," I began, taking a moment to think. "I was tasked with taking out a group of vampires hiding in a tunnel. Others had tried before, but none made it out alive. It was pitch dark inside, so for almost three days, I had nothing but my sense of touch and hearing to guide me—mostly hearing, to sense danger. The vampires were betrayed by their quiet, slow heartbeats. They must've spotted me before I heard them, because they surrounded me. But eventually, I completed the mission. After that, finding my way out was easy."
I shrugged. "From then on, hearing heartbeats just felt natural. It was like a melody, something I could just pick out without even trying."
Rolo listened intently, as if each word was something worth storing in his memory.
"You know," he said quietly, "For a long time, I thought I was the only one the world had betrayed. But since meeting you... I see it's the same for you. You and the wolf, you've had a rough life."
"Yeah," I grinned, "I'm getting used to it."
"Time for bed, though," I added, stifling a yawn. "I'm exhausted."
I reached into my pocket, expecting to find just one card, but to my surprise, I pulled out two. One was the Death card, the same one the Necromancer had given me, and the other was a six-spoked wooden wheel, suspended from a two-post frame. A strange shape hovered above the wheel—likely a sickly blue dragon wearing a crown, holding a raised sword. On the right-hand side of the wheel, an equally bizarre creature clung as the wheel spun upwards. On the left, another figure hung suspended, moving downward. I couldn't quite place these two, but it became clear to me that it was the Wheel of Fortune, the tenth card.
"What the hell?" I muttered, turning the card in my hands.
Rolo, too, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card.
It depicted a young man dressed in linen and a pointed hat, with the symbol of infinity hovering above him, surrounded by swirling smoke. In front of him on a table lay a chalice, a sword, a shield, and various other objects. The Magus. The first card.
Just then, Alex burst into the room.
"Look what I found!" he bellowed, holding up his card. "Maybe it's cursed!"
The wolf was waving the only unnumbered Tarot card—The Fool. It showed a man dressed as a court jester, his clothes tattered and torn, a dog biting his leg as he walked. A bag hung from a stick over his shoulder, and in his hand, he grasped a walking staff.
Rolo snickered. "The Necromancer really found the card that suits you."
"You know the Tarot?" I asked, surprised. He nodded.
"The Fool represents naivety," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "A carefree spirit with no responsibilities. It can also symbolize foolishness and ignorance. The Fool acts on instinct, without fear, guided only by the heart."
I laughed. "Sounds like the perfect resume for Alex."
"Shut up!" Alex snapped.
"The Wheel of Fortune can reveal a lot," Rolo continued. "It can signify that your luck is running out, that things aren't going your way. Or it could mean the opposite—your fate's about to take a turn for the better."
"What does yours mean?" I asked, curious.
"It represents a self-aware, wise individual," Rolo replied. "With awareness and wit, life's challenges are no problem. Anything can be achieved."
I shrugged. "Who knows what the Necromancer meant by all this. I couldn't care less."
To prove my point, I tore the Death card into pieces and handed the remains to Rolo. "And you should hold onto this. If anything happens, you know what to do."
He nodded, understanding the gravity of my words.
"Now, everyone get some sleep," I yawned, stretching.
I finally went to sleep, but hours later, I was jolted awake. Lightning cracked through the sky, illuminating the clouds in brilliant flashes. The thunder roared like an angry beast, shaking the world with each fierce boom.
The storm raged on, its fury unrelenting, tearing at the trees and hurling their leaves into the air, only to smash them back to the ground moments later. The rain hammered against my window with deafening intensity, trying to chase sleep from my eyes. It felt as though nature itself had gone mad, waging a war in the heavens and sobbing with bitter rage.
(...)
The next morning, I didn't want to wake up. The bed felt like a sanctuary, its warmth wrapping around me like a soft embrace, and the storm from the night before had left a lingering heaviness in the air. My body refused to leave the comfort of the sheets, no matter how much my mind urged me to get up.
I could hear footsteps outside my room, and then a knock at the door.
"Shay?" Alex's voice drifted in from the other side. "You alive in there? Or are you just pretending to be a blanket burrito?"
I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes, Alex..."
He ignored me, of course. The door creaked open, and I heard the soft clink of a mug being placed on the bedside table. A familiar scent of cocoa wafted into the room, teasing my senses.
"Brought you some cocoa," Alex said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.
I slowly cracked an eye open, squinting against the dim light filtering through the curtains. "You think it will magically make me want to face the day?" I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow.
Alex chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Well, it's a start. You can't stay in bed all day, can you?"
"Watch me," I mumbled, rolling over so I was facing the wall. "The storm didn't even give me the decency of a good night's sleep. I'm not ready for whatever mess today has in store."
He paused for a moment, then nudged the mug closer to my face. "At least drink this. I don't want to carry this back to the kitchen for nothing."
With a deep sigh, I finally reached out and grabbed the mug. The cocoa was warm and comforting, the sweetness mingling with a hint of bitterness that somehow made it better. "Fine," I grumbled, taking a sip. "But only because it's cocoa."
"See? I knew you'd come around," Alex grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
I took another sip, the warmth spreading through me, and for a moment, the bed didn't feel quite so appealing anymore. "Right," I sighed, finally pushing myself up and sitting on the edge of the bed.
I watched him go, the cocoa still warm in my hands.
I made my way to the bathroom, half-asleep and still grumbling. It was supposed to be a simple morning routine. I squeezed some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and began brushing my teeth, but something felt off. A quiet unease settled in the pit of my stomach.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. And then froze. It wasn't just me looking back. It was... it was watching me with a wary, almost knowing eye.
What the hell?
I shook my head, trying to shake off the feeling. I'm just tired, I told myself. I'm imagining things. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, the sensation of being watched didn't fade.
Then Berry's voice rang out in my head, sharp and clear. Wraiths have invaded every mirror in the house.
I nearly dropped the toothbrush. What?!
Calm down, Berry added, his tone annoyingly calm.
I shook my head. You're fine, Shaytan. You're just imagining it. No, your reflection's not staring at you. No, you didn't hear the bogey's voice in your head. And no, you don't need to check yourself into a nuthouse.
I tried to talk myself through it, forcing myself to focus on the brush, on the familiar rhythm of it. But just as I was starting to calm down, Berry spoke again.
I wasn't joking. I'm serious.
My mouth opened to respond, but then Berry snapped at me. No! Don't let them know we're talking!
I quickly shut my mouth and continued brushing, as though nothing had happened. The sound of my brushing echoed in the bathroom, giving me something to focus on.
Good job, Sunshine, Berry said, his voice light again.
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Since when can you do that?
I don't know. Guess I've always been able to.
That's... I paused, struggling to suppress my disbelief. That's fucking awesome. But my lack of enthusiasm made it clear I wasn't feeling as impressed as I probably should have.
Berry giggled, then grew serious again. Don't cover the mirrors. It's suspicious. Just... be careful.
I raised a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Are you worried?
I'm not, he replied, too quickly.
Really? I asked, unable to resist poking fun.
Really, he shot back.
With that, I finished up, spat out the toothpaste, and wiped my mouth. Well, goodbye then, I said, leaving the bathroom. I could still hear Berry growling in my head, clearly offended by my lack of gratitude. But I had bigger things to worry about than his wounded pride.