Disclaimer: I do own JCA or Yu-Gi-Oh.
Betaed: by Zim'smostloyalservant
Third Age (Part 1):
The Villain
Yade Khan was looking down on him, from a throne that put him in mind of the bad old movies that had inspired Indiana Jones.
The palace was a marvel. Even as he had panicked over realizing the water would be suicidal to drink, he had been nearly overwhelmed by the marvelous absurdity around him. A mishmash of world cultures, and even time, it seemed!
Here, cowboys and Indians, there, ancient warriors before mystic temples. He had even found a courtyard dedicated to the Superman franchise, it had appeared.
Sipping at his dwindling water supply, he had wondered if he was dying. Passed out from fumes? Yes, he recalled an American Civil War short story, in which a man was hung from a bridge. Much of the story followed his life after the rope snapped, letting him escape via the river below. Except it turned out he had not escaped. That life he had lived was just a fantasy of a moment concocted by him in his dying moments.
Was that this? No, had he embraced such a path to madness he would be home with her. And likely the daughter they had never had. No son; he would never grant his father's wish even after the old man had left this world.
Had this been a delusion it would be like a dream, all passion and feeling. This existence was riddled with all the small petty brush strokes of life he was certain reality alone could produce.
The snakes had not scared him off. They were scary, but they were also characters in the legends that had guided him.
The legends spoke of them as Yade Khan's handmaidens and children, the wretched souls of countless human sacrifices. Their flesh devoured by the snakes, destroying their human form. Leaving the goddess herself to devour the soul and then rebirth it as a new snake bound to serve her, eternally tormented by the human memory but unable to ever be more than its wretched existence.
Horrid stories. As much as he scoffed at the Abrahamic faiths, he could appreciate them, seeing them as a revolution of sorts against the celestial cynicism of the old pantheons of rapists, sadists, jackasses and generally psychotic deities.
And now one of the worst of the lot was before him. Deities tended to mix or bleed over in polytheistic faiths. But Southwest Asia's people's had been stubborn in not allowing this one leeway and treating her followers nearly as lepers. To a student of history, such an oddly uniform and enduring pattern might raise red flags – when people do not act like people, something went wrong.
He was rambling in his head, Brenner realized. He needed to think clearly. What did you say to a legend come to life when that legend is supposed to be darkness incarnate?
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello. You are not what I expected," Yade Khan said. Her arms were crossed, but her head tails were restless, seemingly stroking her neck, shoulders, and face. Her face being surprisingly human made it worse. She looked… excited.
"You are not a wizard. How have you come here? You should not lie to me," she said. Her voice was deep, with an otherworldly, echoing tone. It suited her appearance – pretty in a way, but too bizarre to be comfortable.
The warning was unnecessary; he knew he was too rattled to lie.
Her smile widened as he told her. She shifted from sitting on her upraised couch of a throne to wrap herself around the left forward pillar with all her arms, grin widening, showing off those fangs. She was giggling by the end.
He might have been tempted to run, if he had not known there was nowhere to run to.
"So, the old routine? Alright, you are?"
"Johann Brenner, um, a billionaire? I'm from Copenhagen?" he supplied.
"…What is the date?" she asked. He answered, and her tails stilled while she uncrossed her arms.
Holding out a hand, one of the flying snakes flew down to him.
"Very interesting. Do you desire power?"
"I have quite a-"
"Do not be coy, it will not please me at all right now. A wealthy man who could do nothing and prosper for a long life does not go so far for cheap thrills. You pulled that sword out for a reason.
"So tell me what power you desire?"
"… I would have power greater than death. Though I had begun to think the legends were just that, yet here you are. The Ancient from Beyond, the Mother of Serpents, the Queen of Shadows, Mistress of the Twelve Powers. The undying Yade Khan," he answered surprised by his own calm in the moment.
"Are you scared?" she asked.
"Yes. But I am also thrilled. There are wonders beyond humanity. There are worse revelations to die with," he admitted, licking his dry lips.
"Hmm, yes, you shall do," the snake dropped something before him. A medallion of black stone, it sat heavily before him. He could not quite make out what was carved on it.
"Johann Brenner, I find you adequate. Use this medallion and you can return to the mortal realm. You have done me a service by lifting the seal placed by that boy. So if you do so desire, you can return to your life and carry on, your role in the story ended.
"But know this – an uninitiated mortal should not have survived traveling here without my protection. You have power within you, such as I have only sensed once before. The talisman you possess in your hands could unlock real power.
"Become a wizard, seek whatever remains of my old empire, and return here. Do this and you shall be my Himinion.
"But for now, be gone," she said. With a gesture, the man was sent hurtling from her realm.
XXX
Brenner adjusted his tie, checking himself in the full-length mirror. He had put on one of his best khaki suits, after a nice long bath. Satisfied with his appearance, he walked across the grand master bedroom to look out over the estate.
The grounds were beautiful, of course, beneath the southern Norwegian sun. The grand fountain below him tinkled beautifully. The staff had been shocked to find him sitting there, still scraggly from his journey beyond the Veil.
Reaching into his suit jacket, he pulled out the silver medallion of the Shadow Walkers. It had sent him there, and the dark medallion that had sent him back had dissolved before his eyes in the sunlight.
This was not what he had intended, the prospect of pacts struck with a dark goddess, a real life eldritch abomination. The Sun Soul of Cheherazad had been his goal. At worst, to have to haggle with the undead for the keys to immortality and resurrection. But the sword was gone; he had sent men to the site and it had been useless.
The sword had fled, he knew that deeply, in a way that thrilled and excited him. And he was aware there were other changes. Experiments with the medallion proved that the Kroly scroll had been correct – Cheherazad was only one Sun Soul; there were others. And Brenner now was certain he possessed one himself.
So, find her followers, if they still existed, and become a sorcerer? The second sounded appealing, and there may be something to the first. But, this was magic. The potential of bringing a true x factor into this era.
He admitted he already knew he was going to meet with her again. But it would not be just to report on progress. There was the potential for something extraordinary here. The world was his canvas, and he now possessed brushes and paints the like of which had not been seen in millennia.
"No one should aspire to make a stick figure; one should aspire to be Rembrandt," he whispered, lifting the medallion up so it blocked the sun from his line of sight. As its shadow fell across his face, a strange chill went up his spine.
'Is this, the feeling of destiny?' he wondered.
XXX
Yade Khan lay beneath the black waters of the water ring. The waters were so still, one could mistake them for a mirror of darkened glass, reflecting the sky of the Shadow Netherworld and doubling the cultured walkways and columns that rose from the still waters.
Also reflecting the serpents that slowly and patiently circled over her resting spot. The center of a circle formed by nine deliberately broken pillars, their once sharp right angles worn away by immortal coils.
She was still in the darkness, her upper body buried beneath the mass of her coils. There was no need to breathe anymore than there was to eat. Yade Khan breathed out of habit; the water was as good as air to her body. Her beating heart did not accelerate for want of anything.
Her heart quickened, for when Yade Khan slept, Yade Khan dreamed…
Long Ago
Emptiness without, and emptiness within.
Captain Chan wished she could silence her footfalls. The echo through Section 13 only made the silence deeper.
It followed her into her office, the rug thankfully silencing her feet. The well-worn chair waited, spreading before her. Inviting her to park her fat ass in it. She kicked it over; the effort failed, and grabbing the back of the leather seat, she pushed it down.
Wrong hand – the inflamed flesh beneath the bandages pulsed in protest, while the two missing fingers twitched spastically. Her good hand almost ripped the drawer out of the desk entirely. The blue bottle was still there; they hadn't bothered.
Picking it up, she glanced at her useless hand and bit into the cork. When the cork came loose, she chewed it as she drank the foul smelling contents. The fires of healing came over her.
When the pain passed, she was lying by her toppled desk, framed photos scattered around her. The image of a nervous, ecstatic Jackie and a grinning teenager mocked her. But not as much as the thief, going by Veronica again, exhausted but glowing as the two people held little bundles.
A memory tainted by a reflection. Her own.
Pushing herself up, she was relieved the flesh was no longer agony. But as she knew, what was lost was not restored.
She was in her private bathroom. A luxury that let her spend days never leaving the small space of her work, unless meetings required her presence. A nice toilet to park her aging, bloated body on, she thought, running a hand over her abs.
She looked a wreck, and right now she could smell herself. She hadn't bathed in any real way in two weeks, and other luxuries like stopping to use a real toilet had been unavailable in a mad scramble that had amounted to nothing.
"What can I do?" she asked the woman in the mirror.
"Fight on and win like always."
"The note he left. It said 'Check'. He has me in check. Next move will be mate."
"And who let things reach such an awful state? You defeated beings that were practically dark gods as a child, and now as a woman staring down the loss of youth, you can't put a mere wizard in his place?"
"This isn't the same! He cheated. He wasn't one step ahead, he was behind me, letting me chase his shadow. I led them astray, they looked to me!
"There's nothing left, he has everyone. I'm alone, and he knows me. He knows all of us better than we do. Every move, even the wins, were just his own moves using us! I can't beat someone who controls me!
"And that's going to be the world. A dark empire that will last for eternity because no one will even know it's there. All the misery and hate in the world poring into him, and no one will even know he is there to oppose him.
"His plan is perfect."
"There's always fleeing. He may have won this round. But you can escape the deaths of the others by not rising to the bait. Be the Obi-Wan, entrust light to the future."
"No, I can't do that. I couldn't live without the people I love. I wouldn't be some hermit sage awaiting the signs of new hope. I would be some wreck somewhere, no good to anyone. He knows that, too."
"…Then you must break free from his control."
"What?! It's no spell to break. It's smarts, numbers, and calculations from measuring who I am and what I can do. Jade Chan can't beat him because he already won this battle years ago.
"I couldn't beat him even if I wasn't the single aunt starting to get fat from cutting training down, work exhaustion, and fast food. Even that girl couldn't beat him.
"I failed everyone. They should never have trusted me."
"If you wish to avoid failure, you must step back. The Ben Shui monks failed twice to identify the Chosen One. They assumed it was Tohru because he was the right age, not considering the reincarnation may have died before being found and reincarnated into a child. Then they assumed it was you because of the staff. You spotted Jimmy as the true Chosen One because unlike the monks you were not blinded by expectation.
"The Magus King has achieved this through assumption. That even a puppet aware of the strings can still only act as the strings dictate."
"But that's true!"
"Silence. Your whining serves no purpose, you sound like your first period, for Jackie's sake."
"Sorry, but I don't understand."
"You're talking to a mirror, because madness is preferable to being alone. If I know the solution, so do you.
"His equation accounts for Jade Chan as a variable. Change the equation, and he is nothing. You must do what you would never do. What he knows you would never consider, because he failed to realize despair would not just drive you to this pathetic state.
"Jade Chan has lost. But someone else can still stop him. A sadistic choice, but it is the only one," Jade said to herself. She slid down from the sink onto the cold tiles; she had stripped off her filth-caked clothes, the cool soothing her from a distance.
But there was no time for anything. So, on bare feet, she stopped only to collect a photo. And made her way.
XXX
The Vault swung wide for her, its secrets laid bare. All that remained were trivialities, the true power out of sight. Sequestered where the demon once rested.
Hugging the picture to her chest, she punched in the code, and at the chime gave the audio password and voice check.
"Hopeless crisis." She was grateful it recognized her voice. The King was waiting there, on the other side, only a foot of space separating them. The painted wood was smiling at her.
"You always knew it would come to this, didn't you? How you would have laughed to know I once thought I was the Chosen One. You didn't know how or when, but you knew it would come. That's why you never pushed, only idle comments to torment me in their casual assumption.
"You knew I would have days where I laughed and meant it. Why would I ever want your power? Why would I sacrifice everything worth having for… what? A chance to be the biggest monster?
"You haven't won yet, you red creep! I can still walk away! Leave you down here to stare at the dark you love so much in silent eternity! I am not your Queen! I will stay Jade Chan!"
Kneeling before the hanging mask, she breathed hard from the rage and rested her brow on the concrete wall.
"Jackie, I need you to help me. But you need me to help you more. This time, it's just me the world is counting on.
"I'm so sorry," she pulled the mask off its stand, "Please forgive me."
"Welcome home, Your Majesty," Tarakudo spoke from within the mask. Jade lifted it toward her face.
XXX
The sunny, busy street behind her vanished as the electric doors of the lobby closed behind her. The lobby was as cavernous as ever, its cold granite and steel motif a beauty that hid cold hardness. The lines bearing down like spears, like strings tipped with hooks.
The great copper globe sculpture, its grid not engraved, but pressed on. It was a net, encompassing everywhere and everyone. Of course he stood atop it, red robe and white beard making a grotesque mockery of the jolly old gnome he had taken from his rightful place for no other reason than to agonize Santa and the children with his absence.
Jackie was with him, kneeling and held by dozens of thin metal rods embedded at angles around him.
More red robes descended around the black-robed woman. Like her, their cowls turned their faces into dark voids. It hid nothing; she had long since realized that was the truth of the once-men that followed her foe.
They filled the space around her, an unspoken threat. Victor made his own silent entrance – mandibles moving in silence, the great spider descended on a glittering thread to take a place beside his master. He had eight eyes for her alone; her hand should have ached, but it did not.
"Jade, get out of here! Now!" Jackie screamed. The Magus King reached out and patted Jackie on the head.
"See? I told you she would come. Love does not save, it dooms us in the end.
"And welcome, young Jade, to your doom. I knew it was only safe to bring one witness to your last hopeless gamble. I chose the one you love most. The second father, the mentor, the one who set the standard in your aimless quest for love.
"I need do nothing. These men will leave you unable to lift a finger, and then I will let Victor satisfy his lusts. Once he is content, he'll devour flesh, his venom ensuring that you do not pass on until your heart or brain are lost. And knowing this man's horror and despair, your own suffering will be that much greater," he declared.
"Shut up," the black-robed figure ordered. Hidden in the darkness of his cowl, the Magus smiled.
"Make me," he said. She threw back her hood, and did just that. She did not bother watching him retreat from the sight of her. She did not savor his sputters or the change in the once men around her, or the confused greed of her tormentor.
Her blurring vision was focused on Jackie.
"Don't be scared, Uncle Jackie. Everything's going to be alright," Her voice was not her own as the shadows rose to wage war upon her foes.
XXX
She awoke, not with a jolt but an abrupt and calm transition. Rising, she meandered around under the water, thinking.
Brenner, he would return. The idea made her giddy and anxious.
The familiarity was wonderful and off-putting in the modern man. She was actually feeling self-conscious of some of her décor.
Unlike her savage old Shadow Walkers, what if he asked good questions she could not answer? Or made fun of her hair? She knew tendrils were cooler, but no one else might!
What if he realized what she did to pillars!?
"Calm down," Yade said to herself, emerging from the water. Her upper hands where massaging her head and tendrils, while the lower hands massaged her fluttering stomach.
Expelling the liquid from her lungs to breathe air again, she started gathering her thoughts.
The Veil was permeable again. So at worst, she would have to put up with an obnoxious Brenner until someone else came along. Yes, more minions, then she could just kill any who made fun of her.
Right.
Should she wear more gold when he came back? Would that be impressive, or would it seem like she was trying to impress him? She was out of practice at this whole dark goddess thing. Maybe the snakes remembered the finer points?
XXX
She felt when Brenner returned. She had no way of knowing how long it had taken; her naps could vary widely in length. Yade checked herself in a polished stone mirror outside the throne room.
The Queen of the Shadow Netherworld had added more gold to herself, but not an excessive amount. And she had polished herself to a nice sheen, too. She was very clean and presentable.
Yade took her place on the throne and sent the serpents to usher the wizard to her presence.
He came shortly, but not quickly. And she could feel he was indeed a sorcerer now. The distinct buzzing sensation in her bones responding to the shadow magic threading around and through him told her that.
Ah, it had been so long. She had not missed it until it was so gone.
His attire was quite different. Rather than the battered outdoors wear of last time, he now came to her in a black-and-red pinstriped suit, with a black, broad-brimmed fedora on his head. His hair was a bit grayer than she remembered, but he did not feel older. No, he carried himself like a king now, even as he removed his hat and gave her a gentleman's bow.
"Great Yade Khan, I have returned. And I bear an offering," he announced. Straightening up, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a felt case with a protective spell weaved about it.
With a thought, a snake snatched it from him and brought the box to her. She took it in her lower arms and held it gingerly, her upper hands poised to open it.
A gift, yes, she was very happy about this meeting already.
The box opened, revealing a golden pocket watch with her own likeness on the lid. Picking it up by the glittering chain, it turned and revealed a twenty-one pointed sunburst on the other side.
She frowned at the sunburst; that was no symbol of hers. She wanted to ask Brenner what it meant, but that would mean admitting she did not know. There were no spells on the watch itself, so she was shocked when it opened to reveal the arms moving across the face.
"Made entirely out of metals with gold alloy. It's a windup, but I believe it can work here without the corroding effect. Quite expensive to make," Brenner supplied.
…She could actually keep track of time?
That was, wow.
But then Brenner was sharing information with her, so she infused the case with shadows, setting it aside while wrapping the golden chain around her upper left forearm. Time to listen. It seemed the sorcerer had an idea.
"So you want to take over the world, with a game of cards?" Yade asked, flipping through the notebook that Brenner had given her.
"Well, it's not just cards. It's an evolution of the old Shadow Duels. Each card's design contains the magic symbols and spells.
"In order to activate the magic, the rules will dictate each match starts by both players saying the name of the game," Brenner explained.
"And the name?" she asked, looking up from the book. He pulled out what she guessed was a card box; how many pockets did he have? She was out of practice with pockets.
'Hmm, maybe I should install a pouch on myself?' she wondered.
The sorcerer tossed the box to her. It was empty, and made of cardboard, she realized. There was a logo on the box, her. Specifically, her if she was golden, with her holding prayer beads, a wooden staff, a scimitar, and a deck of cards. Spelled out in bold letters below was the name YADE KHAN.
"The starting array of the cards and the invocation makes it essentially one of those prayer spells to you. With your blessing added to the machines printing these cards, the game will have teeth," Brenner explained.
"Huh. You realize, though, that people having their souls ripped out will put a bit of a crink in marketing? I am a bit out of touch, but I can't see them exactly flying off the shelves," Yade said.
She did look pretty dipped in gold, Yade noted.
"That's the beauty of it. The spell is so weak, and so designed, that it will cost the loser only a mere shaving of their soul. My studies on the matter indicate that even a heap of losses will not render someone inert.
"But it will bother them on a deep, subconscious level, that that they will not be able to explain. But they will know it's tied to the game, and will play again.
"And the rush of getting a piece of another's soul will make winning quite habit forming, my limited testing has shown. Doesn't fill the gap of your own soul, so unless you win back each shaving you will get that addiction plus the winning one.
"I have no doubt people will raise their eyebrows at the addictive quality of the game. But it's not like the cards are coated in nicotine. In the end they will just have to conclude the players are at fault, or blame our marketing for just being that good," Brenner smiled.
"Ah, well, the game itself still seems a bit complicated. And I am still not getting how this lets you take over the world," she admitted.
"Me? Why, it's you who I expect will be sitting a global throne.
"Let me tell you about the Sun Souls, and how you are going to get to finally walk… er, slither the Earth. Immortality and the resources to find a way I can defeat death, I think you will find a reasonable compensation," he grinned.
Yade sprang from her throne to land in front of him. Her mass made an impactful sound, but he did not flinch or bat an eye as she reared up.
"You have my undivided attention, Himinion," she said, crossing all her arms. And so she listened as he told her how he would deliver his world into her power.
Six Years Later:
Trace ran, heart pumping, as he skidded around a corner. Good thing he had running shoes on! Wiping out while carrying an antique sword would be a bad, bad thing.
But those were things he had no time to think, only act; his uncle would scold him for it. He was sure if he stopped and thought, he could come up with something better than rushing toward the city for help. But being who he was, that was not an option.
And then he was there, the door open and everything.
"Keep walking kid," the thug by the door said to him.
Trace didn't think he stunned himself by striking the first blow. Below the belt, at that! The thug crumpled and he headed in, over his howling protest.
"What the-? Lou, you useless piece of crap!" the man in the white jacket, clearly the boss, spat. Another thug had Mildred pressed against the wall, arms behind her back and forced to her knees.
"Let her go!" Trace demanded. The gangster smiled, then threw back his head and laughed. The others thugs joined in, one stepping over their fallen comrade and blocking the door.
"Looks like you're as stupid as your haircut. What do you think, boys? Think there could be a price on this?"
"Maybe with a proper cut. Seriously, kid, you get into your momma's dresser?" one of the men laughed.
Trace's eyes narrowed, and he spotted a familiar token dangling from the gangster's belt.
"A duel," Trace said. The gangster stopped laughing; even his sunglasses did not hide the surprise.
"Huh?"
"One game of Yade Khan, you and me, right now. If you win, I will come along quietly. If I win, Mildred and I both leave unmolested," Trace said, surprised at his own confidence.
"Trace! Get away!" Mildred cried out.
"Shut up!" her captor said. He released part of his grip to grab her hair and knock her forehead against the cement wall. The thug laughed, only to cry out in surprise as his boss hit him in the knee with a kick.
"What do you think you're hitting, you ape? That's my money!" the gangster yelled.
"And you, boy, you're dumb. Why should I take a bet when I already have my birds in hand?" the gangster chuckled. But there was a line of sweat running down the side of his face, and his fingers were fiddling with the wizard token.
"Perhaps you're just a man who can only act brave when dealing with outnumbered women or when attacking others from behind. A parasite that lacks both the strength and courage to face your foes head on."
"…" The gangster stepped up to square off with Trace, and pulled out a deck from his jacket. Trace pulled out his own and knelt, placing the sword and card out in the array, while the gangster did the same. Pulling their hands up, they spoke in sync.
"Yade Khan!" And the duel commenced before the befuddled thugs.
XXX
"She will be alright," Trace's aunt said. He was sitting out on the roof; she spoke to him through the window.
"Good," Trace said. Mildred was alright. Whatever had happened there, it was alright so long as that fact was true.
"That was very brave, Trace. You have gotten quite the earful for how it was foolish, and I'm not saying your uncle is wrong. But it needs to be said, I am very happy that you are such a brave young man," she said. He should have turned to look at her, but his eyes were fixed on the horizon, the city skyline and the fading sunlight.
"During the duel, and… after. It didn't feel like me. It felt like I was someone else," he half lied.
"You are still so young. In growing, we come to not only know others and the world, but ourselves. Today, you found something in yourself you never knew before. It can be scary, what lurks in the shadows of our selves, and the light can reveal things we would rather not see.
"But today, I think, you found a hero. That is something to treasure," She told him before withdrawing. Trace heard her close the door to his room, and held up the sword.
"Who are you? You used that power to punish those men when they tried to break the wager. You could have seized control of me. Why didn't you?" he asked the sword.
"Because, it would not have been right to do so. And it was right for them to be punished, for their dishonor and their souls darkened by crimes born of greed and malice," the spirit in the sword answered.
"As for my name. I do not know," he admitted. Trace nodded his head, but frowned.
"I need to call you something. When I saw you, when you called the light down on them. You were very strong, and seemed so wise in laying down justice, neither reluctant nor wrathful. Regal.
"I will call you, King," Trace declared.
XXX
Yade Khan slithered around the Pool of Souls, a dozen of her serpents trailing after her. The silvery light of the pool was drunk in by her body and reflected in the gold that adorned her, adding to her eerie appearance.
Two robed figures went about their business, checking on the seven pylons encircling the pool. They did not break from their tasks as the ancient being came to the pool's edge and lifted a handful of the pool's contents.
She shivered – whether in coldness, excitement, or something else was impossible to say – as the slick slivers of light flowed back out of her hand and rejoined the restless swarm crawling over each other in the pool.
Turning her gaze from the pool itself, she regarded the two pylons whose tops were fitted with shining beacons. Beacons that cast no light, despite how bright they were.
At last, she regarded Brenner, standing opposite of her across the pool.
"So, another Sun Soul has been revealed?" she asked.
"Sadly, no. But it has awakened. The detection methods are crude as of yet. Or else we would have collected more than two since the hunt began," he answered, gesturing to the beacons. Laying his hand on a vacant pylon near him, it also lit up, though his actually cast a light on the scene.
The robed cultists cringed back from it, but Yade only crossed her arms.
"Isn't Alonso supposed to fix that?" she asked.
"Yes, once the new holo-table system is online, players will be unwittingly scanned for Sun Souls. The four missing Sun Souls should be found in no time. Even with the seventh still dormant," Brenner assured her.
"Hmm, you still plan to backstab Alonso?" Yade Khan asked, as Brenner withdrew his magic from the pylon.
"Yes. It will be no great task – the boy is brilliant at the games, including business, but his demeanor and attitude are that of an angry youth. Quick to lash out, to condemn and punish. Unbridled Systems will welcome a new king; that the new king is the venerable head of Brenner Games will only make them throw confetti as they pop the champagne corks," Brenner assured her.
"Very well, but do not harm Alonso physically. I sense a potential in him. He could be of use to us," Yade Khan said.
She withdrew back into the shadows, and he saw her fill the entranceway. Back onto the black plains, and to her Grand Palace, no doubt. She had raised the Shrine of Lost Souls outside her empty city, claiming it would otherwise ruin the layout of her 8,000-year ongoing project.
It was a horror on the brink of madness he had entangled himself with. But she needed him, and his understanding and power grew ever greater. He was not delusional enough to seek her overthrow, but enough power that her whim would not decide his fate, that was vital, and obtainable.
Still, her recurring interest in Alonso… The boy had that card. He was of two minds on the issue; one was to eliminate Alonso just in case, but the other mind reminded him that Yade Khan had a knack for finding things out. Going so directly against her could jeopardize the alliance.
Was Alonso worth such a risk? And perhaps more worrisome, was his hesitation some lingering conscience?
Surely not. Whatever his long-term good intentions for the human race, there was no denying he was ushering in a time of disaster possibly unprecedented in not only the history of humanity, but in the very stones of the Earth.
With an unspoken spell, he returned to his office. Looking out on the nighttime skyline of Tokyo, at so many lives that sooner or later would be left ruined or ended by what he had set in motion.
"It will be worth it. It's alright if you can't understand now. But in time, this road will make it right. All of it," He whispered to the unseen masses in the darkness. His own reflection looked back at him, a reminder of his mortality, the clock he was racing against.
Things were about to change, he felt in his bones, as surely as he had all those years ago in Iran.
A new chapter was opening.
XXX
"It's done," Trace declared. Alonso felt numb, looking at the teenager across the table. The images were fading, but the lifescores were still displayed. A red zero, on his side.
He had designed it to be menacing even in simplicity, but it had never entered his mind he would endure its condemning mockery. Why would it? He had never lost. He had built an empire on never losing.
Johann Brenner was the only person he would admit to standing a chance of beating him. And that was the greatest Khaner vs. the Architect of Yade Khan, the man who knew ever twisted path to victory or salvation, each strategy and special ability, because he had been the one to plan it.
Even such a defeat, while devastating, would make sense. But this? This had been a simple matter of putting an upstart in his place.
Those mere shopkeepers had refused to sell him a rare card he coveted. He had offered a trade that would be both a fortune to traders and nearly peerless deck-building material for any Khaner. And when that failed, he had offered a literal fortune.
The fat man behind his counter had all but spat on him, claiming that card was not for someone like him. Stating upfront there was no price he could name to gain it.
Sending men to break in and destroy it had been necessary. Alonso Gragas had come too far to allow someone like that treat him in such a manner.
When Trace showed up demanding a duel for his family's honor, it had been a gift. These hippies or whatever who acted like there was some spiritual crap to a game that was all about destroying your enemies, he would humiliate them on the mutual battleground.
But looking at Trace as they dueled, for a moment he had not seen the unwashed loudmouth with the stupid hair.
He had seen someone else holding that sword. A real sword in place of a proper token. He himself used real rosaries, but that sword should have looked over the top, ridiculous. But for a moment, the boy had seemed a man who fit the sword.
It made no sense. Alonso fell to his knees, and even there it felt like he had no balance.
'Is this a… breakdown? This, it can't happen to me,' he thought. Head tilting up, he grabbed the face down card still on his array. With his usual lightning speed, his hand swiped it and turned it over.
One more turn, one more turn and he could have played it. The Dark Queen's Favor, the card that, fed by sacrifice, allowed your strongest beast to rise from the deck or the netherworld, empowered by a slew of bonuses. And swept the field clean of your enemies.
One of a kind, his alone.
"Alonso, I will be taking the pieces back, now," Trace had come up beside him. He pressed his mot precious card to his chest, unwilling to let this… lucky fluke's eyes see 'her' in person. He took a breath, and it seemed the card poured some strength into him, for he spoke with his usual strength.
"A deal is a deal. Take them, they are worthless now, and your street girl tag along. Get out," he ordered. Pulling himself up on the table's edge, he watched him go.
And felt other eyes on him. He caught a sight of the raven hair as she left the observation deck.
"Gracia," he whispered his little sister's name. Then cold water splashed him as he recalled he had linked the duel data to the net, as was his custom.
No cameras, but everyone knew.
XXX
Brenner smiled widely, the data replaying on three screens spread before his chair.
"Two. The very first test of the system, and not one but two Sun Souls revealed. Well, it explains Alonso's success, I suppose. But still, this is strange, why would such a wretch be so blessed?
"Yade Khan will be pleased.
"Conrad? Proceed with the tournament announcement, on schedule, and send the special package. The recipient is the challenger, and victor," he said to the assistant waiting in the shadows.
"So, Mr. T. Trace, I'm sorry, but it looks like you are the next to fall. But I promise, it will be on a grand stage," Brenner smirked.
XXX
One should be satisfied when paranoia is vindicated. But Alonso saw now that satisfaction was highly subject to circumstance.
He sipped the cup of cooling coffee, watching the feeds of news and under the public information flow. His safehouses were designed to let him monitor whatever situation forced him to ground.
Still, what amounted to a coup had shocked him. A single defeat and his subordinates and partners had turned on him. He had turned the company around since acquiring it, made it greater than ever before. Yet it seemed no one who mattered cared.
The situation was not beyond salvaging. Their basis was a so-called psychotic break on his part. Calling for his capture as a danger to himself and others. There was no doubt if he was arrested he would indeed be declared that and locked away by bought and paid for professionals.
But he could retaliate, he had other connections, and this place alone had generous gold and cash stored away. Publicly challenge them with his own doctor supporting him to the hilt, and draw this into the public arena. Force the traitors into at the least a compromise, and from there work to destroying them utterly.
But he could not focus on the company. They had Gracia.
His sister, his family. Alonso had made his deals with devils and grown a pair of his own horns, all to ensure she could be safe and happy in this dangerous, cruel world. And despite everything, he had failed.
Leaving her had been agony; it still threatened to keep him awake. But he slept and he ate for the same reason he had torn his heart out by running without her when saving her became impossible.
There was no one else who would help her. If he lost, she was lost. For her sake, he could not throw himself away or let the weight of failure burden his actions.
He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out his black card case, with the image of the Yade Khan logo engraved in gold on the black wood. Brenner once told him he had been inspired for the image by an obscure Middle Eastern goddess. Apparently duels between men and beasts had been part of her worship, with of course legends springing up about supernatural forces.
Opening the case, he found his trump card with the usual ease. Not the Golden Goddess on display on all the cards' backs. This one was dark, and felt somehow real.
Dark Queen's Favor. He would prevail.
But he recalled the way Trace had beaten him, three compatible hero cards fused into an epic level character.
The generally worthless Kid Hero, a girl in an orange hoodie with black hair in some kung-fu stance, face in shadow. Sacred Hero, a genuinely powerful card, but not epic, with a Chinese wizard in green, with a floating sutra before him, glowing with power.
And Modern Hero, a low power card with a probability factor that could give it a slim chance of defeating most anything. A well-built adult man with black hair, a blue shirt, and khaki pants, again with a hidden face. Standing with one foot planted on a giant reptilian claw.
Together being used to summon Hero of Ages. A black-robed slender figure whose light attacks could destroy any card, even still in the hand, with an "evil" designation.
It was, to his knowledge, the first time anyone other than Brenner had been able to call that character.
Speaking of which, it looked like his search had borne fruit. Looked like he needed to book a flight. He and his old associate Brenner needed to have a chat.
XXX
"Trace, buddy, listen, you need to sit down and breathe. Things suck right now, but giving yourself an aneurysm won't help. Sit down, turn on the TV, and I'll get you a soda," Jon said, practically pushing the pacing Trace onto the couch.
"You expect me to be calm?" Trace demanded. Mildred put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from getting up.
"No, but you've been going between panic and anger ever since the police left. And you've gotten nowhere. You are one of the smartest and bravest people I know, Trace. But even you can't do anything productive like this," Mildred told him. He stopped trying to rise and slumped into the couch.
Tai chuckled and picked up the remote.
"And we follow that very special message with, TV!" he declared. He clicked the screen on, and a familiar man was shown seated on a standalone chair, wearing a fedora. Removing the hat, the camera zoomed in on his upper body.
"Greetings, I am Johann Brenner, CEO and President of Brenner Games, and inventor of the hit Yade Khan game," the man on the screen announced.
"Eh, what else is on?" Tai asked, flipping the channel. Only to find Brenner's face again, and again, and again.
"Do stop that, please," Brenner said. As Jon walked back in with a bottle of cola, the doors to the room slammed shut.
"What the-?" Jon said, trying to pull the door back open.
"No need to struggle, I assure you this will not take long," Brenner said.
"Guys, I think the TV is talking to us," Tai gulped, stepping back.
"Ya think?" Mildred deadpanned, eyeing Brenner warily.
"This feeling, a slow burning cold, like tendrils unseen," Trace muttered.
"That's right, young Mr. Trace, shadow magic. Before it was just a brush, but now you have my attention," Brenner said, smiling wider.
"Ah, of course!" Tai hit himself on the forehead.
"…Yes?" Brenner asked.
"First, Mr. and Mrs. T get arrested on ridiculous drug and racketeering charges, and now a well-known celebrity talking to us through the TV and dark magic.
"It's a dream. I am holding ice cream and popcorn. Oh, and Mildred's in a bikini," He said, smiling.
"…
"…
"Ow!" Tai said, as Mildred grabbed his cheek between two fingers.
"This is no dream, idiot," she told him sternly. Trace ignored them, getting up and staring down at the image on the TV.
"You're responsible for this somehow? I thought it might be Gragas, but I remembered he was in trouble too," Trace stated.
"Correct in one. And yes, I am also responsible for Alonso's troubles. Well, to be fair, all I did really was drop a match on the powder keg built up by his poor social skills and Darwinian approach to personnel affairs," Brenner admitted.
"What the heck?" Jon spoke up, turning his attention from his struggle with the door, "Magic aside, I can see rich people sniping each other to get richer, but why bother with the Traces? The shop would be less than pocket change to you, and we've never even met you for an autograph for it to be personal."
"The answer is, that he is not after money," Trace said.
"Quite right. I understand you have a certain property of mine in your possession, a fine antique I misplaced. It's nature is such that a mere monetary offer would be insulting to you," Brenner admitted.
"The sword," Trace whispered.
"What, all this for an oversized old knife?!" Mildred exclaimed.
"Young lady, that oversized knife has such significance as to render all the antiques and artifacts in the country you reside in worthless. It is the definition of priceless," Brenner scolded, wagging a finger.
"Okay, enough back talking TV," Tai said. He pressed the power button, and dark energy burst from it, wrapping around him.
"GAK!" he said, as a tendril snaked around his neck.
"Sorry, this is a special, with no interruptions or commercial breaks," Brenner tut-ted.
In a flash of light, the sword appeared in Trace's hand, and his posture strengthened as his eyes narrowed. He struck with a flash, severing the darkness at its source and throwing Tai back away from the danger with one arm.
He stood squarely between the screen and his friends.
"You, I remember you. The first thing I can remember. But back then… you have followed a dark path from that place. This sword is not meant for you!" Trace said. His voice seemed deeper, but it did not sound unnatural.
"Ah, I see, so that's how it's working. Shame on you for squatting.
"But now that everyone is in attendance, it's time we got down to business," Brenner declared.
"Yes, what do you want Brenner?" Trace ground out.
"Why, I simply want what most older people want of the younger generation. For them to take some time to sit down, and play a few games with me." There was nothing friendly in his smile now.
"Explain," Trace demanded.
"No respect for theatrics that aren't your own, I see.
"Well, as I said, what I want is for you to play my game. Within the hour, a package will arrive at your doorstep. Four sets of items needed for you four to take part in my Ragnarok Tournament. Which will be held on my private island in the Baltic, plane tickets and reservations included.
"It's in your best interest not to lose them. I will not be liable for mismanagement of my generous gifts. Once you reach my island and are officially locked into Ragnarok, and the sword's presence is confirmed, that lovely couple will find their legal problems gone like morning mist as the sun rises," Brenner explained. He produced a plane ticket, seemingly by sleight of hand, as an aerial view of his island appeared in the top left corner. Small it seemed, undeveloped save for a small port facility and what looked like a fortress in the island's center.
"And if we refuse?" Trace asked.
"Then your aunt and uncle will spend the rest of their lives in prison, and I will remain quite beyond your reach," Brenner said, sticking the ticket into his coat pocket.
"Wait, those charges don't get a life sentence," Tai pointed out.
"Well, I only said the rest of their lives, not how long their sentences would be, you know. But that is beside the point.
"If you were like Alonso or the others, a simple challenge would be enough. But you seem the type, Mr. Trace, who requires motivation. So come to my kingdom, and fight your way through fine Khaners from across the world. Come, and set them free.
"Fight your way into my castle, and you will be able to face me. After all, you can't just turn away, can you? Not now that you know what I am and what I will surely continue to do.
"I challenge you to beat me at my own game. And bring your friends; let's see how far into the shadows they can come before being snuffed out.
"See you there, at the beginning of the end," Brenner said. With a snap of his fingers, the image changed to a music video for some new anime, and the doors slid open slightly.
…
"Oh, crap," Jon cursed.
XXX
Yade sat enthroned, two rows of robed Shadow Walkers standing beyond the Oni Pillars. Brenner stood alone, the orb of his spell dispersing. The memory viewing magic was fascinating; it let her truly see the real world.
Had it always been so bright?
"As you can see, all the pieces are moving. Soon two more Sun Souls will be in our control. And the network will find the others soon enough," Brenner explained, smiling.
"Why draw it out? So many theatrics. I appreciate the drama, Brenner, but my patience toward my release does not extend to pointless delays. And need I remind you that immortality will only be yours when my new age begins? Your time is finite," she reminded him, reclining on her throne.
"There is a point. Four Sun Souls will come together in conflict on my island. Such a clash may awaken the missing one. This is also a chance to study the Sun Souls in the wild, as it were. The captive ones have proven… rowdier, than expected; we can learn more about them from watching how these too grow when pushed.
"Besides, we never expected to find so many this quickly. We are ahead of schedule. And the Sword will be ours once Trace is taken care of – a two-for-one deal.
"Do not trouble yourself, oh Beautiful and Dark One. Your castellan shall see the plan through to fruition," he said.
He left soon after, leaving ger alone with the Shadow Walkers.
"Zaben," she spoke.
The robed man emerged from the darkness, and kneeled in silence.
"I feel Brenner may not truly be a faithful servant. He is quite useful, but I wish us to be ready for a time we must make do without him," she said.
"By your command, oh great goddess. The Old Blood are ever ready to serve your will," he said. She sent them away, her true worshippers. Tiresome mostly, but they broke up the silence. Ah, perhaps it was the lack of conquest, but it seemed so dull compared to the old days.
Still, she had her wonderful new library. All books; tapes didn't work, even with infusion. But still, she now had thousands of books to study. Classics of the East and West, and everything between. Contemporary works, from bestsellers to pulp trilogies, because why not? And of course, mythology and history.
But there were still things that interested her. With a gesture, she reignited the spell and let herself see Alonso's face. Different, yet exactly the same.
"My new Boaz. Brenner, you have done well. And you are not so clever as you think, to play games with gods," she chuckled.
Somewhere in the Baltic Sea, Two Episodes Later:
"…And finally, a small matter of safety. The Victory Gauntlets each come with a distress feature.
"Take a moment to note the black switch. Press it down and turn clockwise, and a red button is revealed.
"Now, if you press that button, it will alert the staff to you being in distress and they will be able to track the signal with the Khan Network.
"But be aware, activation of the distress beacon is a forfeit. Whether you have one or eleven victory tokens, you will still have thrown in the towel.
"Food and water can be claimed once daily in the form of ration packs at the Reception building you arrived in.
"Well, I think we have covered enough rules and legal minutia. You did not come from across the world for speeches.
"You have 90 minutes to spread out or gather as you see fit. When fireworks light the skies, the battle begins.
"Many have come, but only four will earn the right to enter the castle as Challengers.
"Be bold, be cunning, and above all else reach for victory, Khaners! For this is the kingdom that shall never pass to the meek!" Brenner proclaimed from his balcony overlooking the road.
Trace frowned as the crowd roared in approval, Brenner bowing like a showman. Some were truly blind to the menace behind his words, but others, he thought – picking out one face in particular from the ferry – saw it. Saw it and loved Brenner all the more, as he appealed to their predatory natures.
'Don't be too quick to judge, Trace. Had Brenner not unmasked himself for you, it's unlikely you would be seeing events as you are,' King said in the back of his head.
Brenner, with a final flourish, retreated behind the double doors, and the crowd started to break up.
"So, food is covered. What about shelter?" Tai asked.
"Considering our host is a supervillain, I think we should have brought tents," Mildred commented.
"Already feeling out of your depth?" an arrogant voice cut in. The crowd parted with nervous muttering, revealing Alonso Gragas.
"You!?" Trace's two male friends shouted, pointing at the leather jacket-wearing tycoon.
"You remember me, how impressive," Alonso smirked, ignoring them to advance a few steps and turn his attention to Trace.
"Trace, I understand we have both been having troubles lately," Alonso said.
"Brenner. I am guessing he's also the reason you are able to compete instead of being packed off to jail?" Trace asked. He could believe Alonso had been framed, but he would not be surprised if the other dueler had indeed committed crimes to warrant being locked up.
"Correct, and it's troubling. Brenner could gain something by humiliating me in this tournament, but the risk…
"There is more at work here than I know, Trace. And I don't like to gamble when my sister is on the line. So, I am willing to offer an alliance. We work together to get into the castle. And further more, when I regain my standing, I will use it to assist your family," Alonso said.
Trace and company were stunned. And Trace caught the anxiety rising from the other competitors eavesdropping. He doubted they understood the subject, but it was clear they were worried about such an alliance.
"Terms? You are not the type to offer anything for free," Trace demanded.
"Correct. If we are going to work together, you must lose the dead weight," Alonso declared. He waved out with his arm to encompass Trace's friends.
"No," Trace answered, crossing his arms.
"Don't be foolish. Do you think what happened on the ferry was a fluke? These Khaners are predators; that is how you get to the top of the game. The appeal of the tournament is not honorable sport – Brenner has loosed animals into the arena for the pleasure of watching them fight, and to weed out the lesser.
"Those three hanger-ons are deer in a wolf den. They will attract predators like blood in the water. You will not make it beyond those gates trying to keep the likes of these in the game!" Alonso shouted.
"It's a simple choice, Gragas. Choosing between people I trust to support me as best they can. Or a man I know will betray me if it suits his own goals.
"I would offer you to team up with us. We have a common foe," Trace said.
"Heh, it was a fluke, to have lost to a sentimental fool. I have fought alone my whole life. So long as I have my deck, I will prevail. Watch with the losers, as I pull Brenner down from his throne," Alonso proclaimed. With a sweep of his coat, he vanished into the thinning crowd.
"We seem to meet so many dramatic people these days," Jon commented.
"It is just me, or are the older people that get into this game a bit off?" Mildred huffed, planting hands on her hips.
Seven Days And Most of a Season Later:
'Again?' Alonso thought. The holograms had not dispersed; the field was still laid out. Brenner smiled across the vast table, working his hand back into the deck and starting to shuffle the cards.
"You, cheated," Alonso ground out.
"So you have been saying. But I say in response what I have said from the start of your recent troubles – that you are a self-centered narcissist who lashes out at others due to your own insecurity.
"You claim you came here to save your sister from me? Have you really looked at her this entire match as she has sat there?
"Notice anything?" Brenner asked. Alonso had already detected the guards stepping through the door behind him. The walkway was narrow, and Brenner, true to form, had at least a five-meter drop down to the next level.
But he did glance at Gracia. Brenner had cut her hair, and her clothes, so common. The taunt of control made his blood boil. She flinched, looking away.
"Did you see that, at least, you poor fool? She flinched from you, just like she flinched every time you seemed to get the upper hand.
"The changes you see in her are not my will. Taking her in, I rescued her from you. Chaining her to a pedestal, and dictating everything that was for her 'own good'.
"You are not the hero coming to save the princess from the dark castle. You are the dragon, coming to steal her back to your cave to hoard with all the other baubles you obsess over.
"The whole reason you are in this situation is not because the world is against you. But because you are a bad, bad person, and everyone – good or bad – when they saw the opportunity nodded and decided it was time you were brought to heel," Brenner explained. He stopped cutting the cards and presented the Dark Dragon Prince card.
The skeletally gaunt figure in western royal finery upon leathery wings, clutching coins that were slipping through its fingers, seemed to stare at him.
"Gracia!" Alonso yelled, looking to her.
"No," it was a whisper, but it carried.
He moved without thinking. The tabletop crunched under his weight. There were shouts. He smiled – Brenner had not thought of this. From the table ledge, he was able to make the leap onto the balcony Gracia was seated enthroned on.
Her eyes widened as he grabbed the railing and put a leg over it.
"As I said," Brenner sighed.
"No!" Gracia shouted, wide-eyed. Standing before her, Alonso's eyes widened. His face was reflected in her eyes – fear, anger, so many emotions. Her eyes had been dead for so long, dulled by this cruel world he protected her from.
He had to say something, but he didn't know what, as he noticed the remote clutched in her left hand. She pressed the button with a shriek, and the floor fell away from him.
Darkness rushed up to meet him.
XXX
'King, just now,' Trace thought, looking to the trapdoor that had left all but Brenner's throne and its occupant a death drop.
'Yes, powerful magic. Wager magic; Brenner waited to collect on his victory,' King said in Trace's mind.
"Dang, I know I said it would be great if they both could lose, but that was brutal," Jon commented. Rita snorted, turning her back on the arena and leaning provocatively against their own railing.
"That guy was a creep. And frankly, that's why I will not be going against Brenner. This tournament is about gambling, and the difference between a good gambler and a great one is knowing when to fold them," their perhaps ally said.
"Worth it to get a refresher on how the old man duels," Morgenstern quipped. Brenner spoke up gaining their attention.
"Now that that unpleasantness is dealt with, you can continue to your suites. The chambers are five stars, and you are free to rest or refresh however you like before the banquet in two hours.
"Tonight, we will lay out the rules for the quarter finals. And the day after, one will be crowned champion and have to choose whether they wish to face me," Brenner announced.
"Brenner!" Trace shouted. The mustached man favored him with a look of fake surprise.
"What have you done with Gragas?" Trace demanded.
"Oh, he fell into some good hands. The matter should be closed shortly.
"Speaking of which, sorry to keep you waiting, young miss. Terence, give the lady her floor back, if you please?" Brenner asked, turning to walk away from the dueling table.
XXX
"I'm not dead!" Alonso Gragas bellowed to the swirling black sky. He stood in a courtyard of horrific imagery, black water flowing in rivulets. Glaring at its mocking sounds of flowing, he kicked at it.
"I don't believe in Hell! Brenner! You won't cage me that easily!" he screamed at the sky.
A man watched from the shadows, shaking his head.
"Bah, just another barbarian with delusions of majesty. Still, the Goddess' will is paramount," Zaben remarked. He signaled the others to withdraw. His goddess willed the man boy be left unattended; she would deal with him herself.
About 24 hours and 10 Episodes Later:
He had drunk the water. Alonso had known it was a bad idea, but this thirst… it was a matter of dying for certain, or the long odds the water was not poisonous.
He had lost the gamble, it seemed. Blast, but at least he had played his cards as best he could.
Then he felt puzzlement. The cold darkness was receding from his senses. Sensation returned. He was lying on something soft. And his lips were clammy and wet?
Reflexively, he wiped them clean on his sleeve. His mouth felt strange. But the rest of him felt… good.
"What happened?" he wondered aloud. This was not where he had been.
He was lying on what seemed to be a cushion-filled four-poster bed with thick coil-styled overhead beams. And the room was filled with strange sculptures and cushioned pits, it seemed as he sat up.
"Feeling better?" a deep, raspy voice asked.
"Who's there?!" Alsonso demanded. He shot from the bed to his feet, looking around.
"Up here," the voice called again. The billionaire fugitive turned around and looked up. And realized the design of the bed was not so strange. Something was coiled around it, perching on the upper section.
"I did not expect you to drink. I'm not sure if that was foolish or brave. But since it let me steal a kiss, I liked it," the thing said, lowering its humanoid top down to the floor.
It was naked, save for the gold jewelry that adorned it, even the tentacles on its head. That they should have accessories only made it more obscene somehow. Those glowing red eyes, the slithering mass practically pooling behind it… had he renounced God only to be found by a devil?
"So silent, does my beauty transfix you yet?" the abomination asked, holding her face with one set of hands and her nippleless breasts in the other.
Was she blushing?
KISS?!
It was too late to run, she had surrounded him. The sheer absurdity of one person surrounding another let him break out a mad grin.
"Is this insanity then?" he asked, forcing calm on his body.
"No, it's destiny," it, she, said.
"Destiny? I don't believe in fate," Alonso snapped.
"Nor do I. And don't confuse the two. Fate is weaklings bemoaning their lot while claiming it is unchangeable. Destiny is a checklist of what you need to achieve to reach a goal, and also your will to sacrifice anything to reach that goal.
"That you are here is another check to reach the destiny you desire. But let's get comfortable to talk about that," she said.
She was effortlessly quick in moving, and picked him up just the same. Protesting didn't even have time to occur through sheer surprise before she deposited him back on the bed. He watched, gulping, as she stretched herself around him, just barely not touching him.
She positioned herself to look down next to him. Propped up by her lower elbows on the cushions, the other arms crossed under her chest, and those tentacles waving in the air…
'Oh, please don't let this go where it looks like its going,' Alonso thought. And also fought to keep that thought from his face. He was no ladies' man, but he knew such feelings were never well received. And present company would likely mean particularly unpleasant outcomes.
"You don't recognize me?" she asked with a pout.
"Should I?" he asked.
"Your deck," she requested, extending one of her smaller hands. Fumbling for a moment, he held his precious cards out in the palm of his hand.
She pointed a single tentacle at the deck, and a dark mist enveloped it. If he did not value that deck so, he surely would he dropped it. As it was, he watched a single card slide out and then zip through the air to be caught between two clawed fingers.
"Is this your card, Alonso?" she asked. She turned it so he could see what she had taken.
Dark Queen's Favor.
"Give it back!" he snapped, pushing himself up. Her tail moved to meet his chest and forced him back down.
She loomed over him, holding his precious card and frowning playfully.
"Still don't recognize me?" she asked. Shadows enveloped her, leaving only those glowing eyes and a shape…
A match.
"The, Dark Queen," he gasped.
"Yes. Yes, my favored one.
"Surely you wondered how? That money, that first deck, and this card, delivered at that pathetic doorstep. Why?
"Because Brenner, for all his vanity, is a tool. A card in my hand with varied uses. He created this to my specifications, never knowing what it was meant to find. When he gave it to my loyal followers, he probably thought I simply wanted insurance.
"They sent out the package, and this card was drawn through that deliberate chaos until it and its companions found such a soul as I desired.
"You look like him. My favored child, and lover, but he was not a Sun Soul. You interest me, as nothing has interested me since the years I slept in sorrow in the black depths.
"I made a deal with Brenner. I would make a deal with you as well," she said.
Alonso decided he had to ignore the disgusting contents to focus on self-preservation. He was grateful there were no other witnesses to this.
"A deal for my life? Escape?" he asked.
"Oh no. You will get those for free. You carry my favor, after all.
"Brenner wishes for eternal life so he can have all the time he feels he needs to learn how to bend reality to suit his desires.
"What you desire is power, above all else. Your soul – I can hear its hunger for you to stand above others. To never be mocked, to never have to simply accept anything.
"You rage at anything being taken from you. Your sister is no exception. Other people, disease, and even time will take that sweet little girl you love from you.
"But through me, it need not be so. I created all this from a single stone, and that stone was formed from the ether by my will. And my power has only grown since then, Alonso.
"Give yourself to me in all ways, and no mortal will look down upon you ever again when we succeed. You can be as to a god, and even have her by your side forever, the child light to your darkness," she whispered. He could feel her breath as she leaned down; it was wet, it smelled like water and stone, and hot like a stove. It made him want to gag, but all his focus was on her words.
"You know what I say is only truth. The prize is real; you need only reach it. Defeat the other Sun Souls in duels of the soul, and best the champion I set against you to prove your worth. And when you have laid the world on my altar… Our dreams will eclipse the light," she said. Her kiss on his brow turned into a lick, freezing lips giving way to a burning sizzle that made him shudder under her. He allowed no other sign of his pain; she seemed pleased by that, as she stroked his cheek, the hand neither extreme of temperature.
'What kind of physiology does she have?!' his mournful sense of reason screamed in his skull.
"I see you are quite stoked. Sorry, you will have to prove yourself before you get to relive the bounty of my coils.
"Back you go. Do not interfere with Brenner now, and he shall not interfere with you. If he loses to Trace, consider the outcome my gift, and make ready your own tournament. Surpass him as I know you can.
"And should Brenner triumph, I shall arrange your score to be settled myself. Procedure matters.
"Take this with my blessing. Your possession of it will proclaim your status, even to Brenner. And a focus to aid you in magic," she told him. She produced a golden pocket watch. It glinted bright like the gold adorning her, and he tucked it into an exposed pocket of his jacket.
"Ta-ta for now," she giggled. And the room vanished. He found there was no terror as he was hurtled up toward the light.
Relief washed through him like the herald wind of an oncoming storm.
XXX
Brenner was lingering in a poorly lit hallway. Currently, this part of the castle was little more than storage space, with excellent interior decorating. Not just him building big to impress – he had found a certain need for solitude as he unfolded plans that would be catastrophic for most of the human race.
Which was one reason he was surprised when someone stepped into sight at the four-corridor intersection ahead of him. His surprise turned from curiosity to stopped-in-tracks shock as he registered who he was looking at.
That horrid leather style, and that haircut…
"Alonso?" Brenner asked. The punk stood there in profile for a moment, no doubt thinking to look cool, before turning his attention to Brenner with a smile.
"And people say my tower is an act of compensation. At least it lacks wasted space. What I can't use or find acceptable rent, I loan to various causes. Nature loathes a vacuum, Brenner, and I loath the kind of men who keep empty space just for the heck of it," Alonso remarked.
"…So you escaped. Color me impressed, boy," Brenner admitted, hand drifting to his chest. The medallion was already cooling his flesh beneath the cloth.
"Escaped? Oh I wish, I really do. But I was sent back with permission," Alonso said smugly.
"Oh. I had assumed Yade Khan wanted the honor of collecting your soul personally. I suppose you are meant to serve as a pawn. There is some nasty subordination magic I have yet to touch.
"Did it hurt?" Brenner asked, with clearly fake sympathy.
Alonso reached into his jacket and pulled out a watch. A golden pocket watch.
Brenner took a step back, doubt followed by confirmation on his face, the eyes narrowing.
"How did you steal that?" Brenner demanded through gritted teeth.
"I didn't steal it. It was gifted to me by a woman. A woman with really weird hair," Alonso smirked, opening the watch up.
"Absurd!" Brenner barked, walking toward the younger man, face tightening in anger. Alonso breathed in, and a pulse of cold shot out as a ring of shade from him. It hit Brenner, or rather, a dark aura sprung up around the older man and took the blow. It did stop him in his tracks though.
"Well, that felt exhilarating," Alonso commented. He closed the watch and looked at it again with something like appreciation. Brenner straightened from a slight slouch and rolled his shoulders.
"Impressive, but then, our kind are prodigies. But I have laid low Sun Souls far more impressive than you, and cast down three of the Sages Six. You're a clever kitten facing a tiger, boy," Brenner said, pressing his hand down on the medallion. The shadows started to lengthen and twist. Alonso scoffed, holding up the watch.
"You and Trace both had magic. I am the champion – I only lost because I didn't realize we weren't playing the same game. Similar games, but this power adds another dimension I was ignorant of before.
"Well, that's no longer the case.
"Oh, and it seems your boss prefers me. Out of curiosity, did you have to ride the snake to the lake, old man? If so, I actually feel sorry for you. I wouldn't even know where to start," Alonso commented. Brenner's eyes narrowed, and Alonso grinned as they squared off across from one another.
"Enough," a cold voice called. Looking down one of the other halls, they watched a man cloaked in a black robe seemingly emerge from the shadows of the darkened corridor.
"Zaben?" Brenner said. The man approached and entered the intersection with them. Lifting his hand, he revealed a medallion of black stone, Yade Khan's form depicted on it in gold tracery.
With a bang, the shadows of the area snapped back into place, and both men stumbled back. Brenner recovered first, baring his teeth, while Alonso raised a hand to his face, and his bleeding nose.
"Fools, you both disobey the Goddess' will.
"Brenner, you know he carries favor, he is no longer yours to torment. And Gragas, you were told this is not the time. I am here to see you off from this place. The secular meddlers are being dealt with as we speak. Your petty empire will be restored."
"Now just a moment! I have committed a great deal of time and resources to-" Brenner spoke up. Zaben glared at him, eyes flashing red in the hood.
"You forget yourself. You secured those resources for her. They will remain hers under him," Zaben said. Alonso snapped the watch shut again, the small noise getting their attention.
"You expect me to leave without my sister?" Alonso demanded.
"That he cannot have. I can stomach a lot, Zaben, but I have taken too much of a shine to that girl to break my word by letting her go back to him," Brenner stated.
"Silence. The girl is your prize. You will earn her through deeds or not at all," Zaben declared in a tone that brooked no argument. Brenner held up a hand, making a hissing noise.
"Hold, we are not alone," Brenner said. All three turned to face down the remaining hallway.
"Cone out, Mr. Trace," Brenner grinned.
"Impressive senses," Trace said, stepping into sight, sword drawn.
"It's the other. The spirit in the sword is in command," Zaben remarked.
"What?" Alonso said.
"I can see that clearly," Brenner stated. Trace turned his attention to Alonso.
"Good to see you're okay, Alonso. No, I see you're not truly okay. You stand before me less like my friends, and more like the man you came here to overcome, don't you?" King remarked.
"Enough, this matter is closed, let us go," Zaben said with a curt gesture. He turned and stalked off. Alonso took two steps after him, and stopped.
"Trace, you rejected my offer. We are not allies; it is not your place to lecture me. But I want this man to suffer, so I warn you, if you wish to defeat him, you will have to use all the tricks at your disposal.
"Oh, and Brenner, your days are numbered. If you do win tomorrow, I will be coming for you, and no cheap tricks will save you this time," Alonso promised. Brenner and Trace watched him follow the cloaked man into the darkness of the castle.
"Brenner, what is going on? You people… I don't know what you have done, but it is something fundamentally wrong," King said.
"*Sigh* I wouldn't expect either a ghost or a young man to understand my motives. I have actually come to respect you, watching you grow and rise to every challenge in my tournament. Alonso may be a worthy opponent, but he is only that.
"All this will no longer be your concern after our duel, so don't waste what time you have left brooding. Go back to your friends, while you can," Brenner advised. The billionaire turned to walk back into the deserted dark corridors.
"And you will go await our duel in this darkness you have built?" King demanded.
"Yes, you always end up giving the darkness more than you ever intended. Until we meet on the field of battle, young king," Brenner said, already lost to sight.
XXX
Trace watched the holograms fade; no, he looked through them, King by his side, unseen save by himself and his opponent. His attention was on the stunned man.
"Brenner, it is over, I have won," Trace declared.
"Yes, I can retrace it in my head. But, this is my game, how? How did you do this?" Brenner asked. He seemed honestly confused, hand trembling as he laid his remaining hand back down, staring at Trace, eyes widened as if only really seeing him for the first time.
"I have told you and your flunkies many times. Even seemingly insurmountable odds can be surpassed if you have faith in the spirit of this game. It does not matter if you have a so-called perfect deck or wrote the books on how to play. In the end, you had faith only in yourself, nothing else.
"That is why you have lost," Trace announced. Cheering broke out among several of the audience members. Trace looked up, smiling. While his friends were easily spotted in the place of honor Brenner had given to see his defeat, he also spotted the other players whose respect he had gained, and who in turn had won his. And of course, like black spots on a tapestry, the petty souls who sulked now.
Not because they had truly wanted Brenner to win, sadly. Their disappointment was that Brenner had failed to "avenge" them, even though he knew Brenner cared nothing for their defeats.
Then sound vanished, and color faded.
"Trace, beware. This is that same magic from after Alonso lost," King spoke up, looking around. The sword glowed brightly, and color returned to Trace's own form, and he saw Brenner was still colored as well. That same light…
"Wait, no. You can't be serious," Brenner muttered. His confusion was gone; he looked afraid.
That revelation set a chill down Trace's spine. He had seen that mask of gentlemanly geniality and self-assured malevolence crack for anger, and slip oh so slightly for melancholy. But never for fear had it been penetrated.
"Something comes," King declared.
"But you don't need this! I already… After all I have done?" Brenner pleaded, head whipping around, looking for something.
"Brenner! What spell is this? The match is already over," Trace demanded. King placed a cold hand on Trace's shoulder.
"It's not him, it's worse. And… familiar?" King whispered.
It appeared in the blink of an eye. A massive shadow, something moving within it. Gasping, Trace wanted to look away, but he dared not. Bracing himself against the terminal table, he stared wide-eyed.
"What is it? I don't know what it is, King!" Trace cried out. This panic, it was overwhelming. Brenner's magic was nothing compared to this!
"No! No! No! Why?!" Brenner demanded franticly. He threw something, like a spear of darkness. It collapsed and became a circling snake of black around the cloud.
"Why? I only collect what you were willing to wager," it said. The snake struck at Brenner, and dove through him. It emerged, carrying a small sun. It dissolved as it swam back to its new master, the inertia carrying the blazing light into the darkness.
The darkness was not dispelled; instead the sun was reduced to a star, a star that was caught by what he thought was too many hands.
"Sooo preeettty," it hissed. Red eyes turned to look at him.
"No," King declared, stepping between them.
"Little ghost, so forgetful," it laughed.
"You know me?" King asked, surprised. It laughed at him, the sound echoing in the silence.
"You have no claim on Trace's soul. Your business is done; begone! Back to the shadows where you belong!" King commanded.
"Ah, you are right. But a word of warning, boy. You and Brenner were alike in one thing – you both assumed to understand this game. Best start asking the right questions; so tragic to be presented with the answers, only to realize you don't know what the answers even mean.
"And a promise, we will meet again," the hidden abomination spoke.
And then with the blink of an eye, Trace was gasping against the table, knees trembling, the glow of the sword fading. Shouts and screams were breaking out. His eyes lifted just in time to see Brenner collapse backward limply.
XXX
"So, Brenner's comatose. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Jon commented, as they sat waiting by the dock. A bubble had formed around them; even the congratulations of the others were muted. But of course everyone else saw only tragedy. They had no idea what a monster Brenner had been.
'And it wasn't a tragedy? You think anyone deserves that?' he found himself wondering.
"So, just like that, it's over?" Mildred asked.
"None too soon, if you ask me. The holograms are cool, but I prefer Yade Khan as just a card game," Tai admitted. Trace stood from his crouch and pulled a card from his deck. He flipped it to face away from him, displaying the familiar logo of the golden figure only identified as the Game Goddess.
"My friends, I'm sorry, but I think its only beginning," Trace said.
Author's Note:
Well, this chapter was tougher than expected, and I did not think it would be easy to start with. This, meant as a loving parody of sorts to card anime/manga and the big Y in particular, showed me I will never write a story for this fandom. It just does not click like others do.
Don't be worried if you are confused. This strange era in Jade, or should I say Yade's, existence is meant to come across as missing many pieces. This age, in both its parts, is an experiment of sorts by me.
It has proven interesting to work on. Hope it is proving interesting to read.
By the way, kudos to anyone who spotted a shout out to a favorite author of mine in the chapter.