Shuffle – Part 1
By Zero's Wings
Trowa sat in the cockpit of a modified Leo, his body as rigid as a stone gargoyle. He heard other members of his mercenary group taking out pillboxes on the north ridge. He would wait for the proper time to begin his part in the attack. Trowa clutched the crude wooden cross around his neck not in fear or in prayer, but as if that tiny object alone held his body steady. He released it, feeling calm and sturdy again. His body then became deeply rigid and tense, his face hardened into an impenetrable mask. It was as if he were some plant that had roots in a state of massive overgrowth, reaching deep into the core of this world and all the souls who inhabited it. He was planted in the deep, aortic vein of humanity. He felt enlightened; he was at peace.
I am not Trowa. I am a nameless soldier who has been on the battlefield from as far back as I can remember.
*****
The circus tent was alive with activity. Jugglers, lion tamers, trapeze artists; they all rushed hurriedly through the dressing rooms and the circus ring. The manager, in his huge red coat with dangling coattails, directed the entire mess of color and light with the neurotic, forceful urgency of an orchestra conductor.
Catherine turned the card deck over with her delicate, nimble fingers. The cards played musical chairs and dropped into their seats, forming a perfect stack. Trowa was transfixed on those hands; they worked so artfully, so gently. Those same hands were trained to throw deadly knives and handle vicious lions. It seemed oddly contradictory, then, that her hands should be so exquisitely soft and dainty.
Trowa's eyes wandered from Catherine's hands to the cards that were being shifted, and he saw that they were heavily decorated and had strange pictures on them. They were unlike the cards that the mercenaries used when they played poker, and Trowa doubted that Catherine would interrupt his preparation for tonight's act only to play a round of five-card stud.
"What kind of cards are those?" Trowa asked quietly.
"They're tarot cards. I've been practicing with them for a while, and I think I just figured out all the combinations."
"Listen, Catherine," he said in a clipped, slightly annoyed voice, "why don't you just save your little card game until after tonight's show?" She looked slightly hurt.
"This isn't just some little card game, Trowa. With these cards, I can tell you all about your life, and your future."
"I don't believe in predestination."
"That's okay," she said with a wink and a big smile, "I'll believe in it for you." Realizing that she was on a roll and there was no stopping her at this point, he simply crossed his arms impatiently and waited.
"This is a colony standard deck. The original tarot system was lost about two hundred years ago, around the time of man's colonization of space. Earth and the colonies both recreated the tarot card system, but they use different standards. The colony standard is better, of course." Trowa smiled a bit. Catherine knew her stuff, and she really seemed to be enjoying this. Besides, he was almost prepared for tonight's show anyway.
"I'm going to draw seven cards," she explained, "two will be from the Major Arcana, and the other five will be cards with common suits. There are four suits and eight characters. Cups, Wands, Swords, and Pentacles are the suits, and Princess, Prince, Son, Daughter, Knight, Page, King and Queen are the characters. These cards will tell us about your future relationships. The Major Arcana cards are placed in the middle, and the other five form a circle around them." She shuffled the deck and drew the first card. Trowa was surprised to find himself rather anxious in his anticipation.
The card was dark, colored with deep blue and black hues, with a single, pallid sphere in the center. Under it was a caption that simply read: ~ The Moon ~
"This must be you, Trowa." Catherine's eyes were in a trance-like state. They shown through swimming glass, like a frozen lake melting in springtime.
"The moon represents hidden thoughts. Analytical clockwork turning in your head. You say more in silence than in words, and you keep the best of yourself to yourself. Cold and dead outwardly, your inner warmth is supported by a great strength."
"That's interesting," Trowa said. He had never thought that he was hiding anything from anyone, especially not his own sister. He wasn't withholding any thoughts, he was too busy observing. Yes, that was it, he was an observer. He never formed conclusions about what he had seen, as he reasoned, if the god that created this existence does not have enough understanding of it to give it structure and order, than why should anyone expect me to reach an understanding about the nature of this existence?
The next card she drew was alive with inviting reds and whites, but this one carried a foreboding message in its illustration.
"This is the second Major Arcana, Trowa. The other person in your life who will have the most impact upon you."
The card grimly told him: ~ The Hanged Man ~
End of part 1
Author's Note: Yeah, I know it's short, but more is on the way. I'll be starting the main arc that ties all of my previous stories together very soon, so keep your eyes peeled! Until then, feel free to email me and tell me what you think of my stuff, good or bad! I love feedback!
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