Outside Aphrodisia, Day 138 A.F

"Ayesha, no!" Tybira latched her arms around my waist, hauling me back.

"Let go!" I twisted and flailed in her grasp, hitting her arms away. Didn't she see that I was running out of time? I had to get back on that ship!

Flames waved from the deck of Aphrodisia, black smoke blanketing it in a thick cloak. Even from the beach I could hear the hissing of fire and the crumbling, groaning wood. The heat seared my face. I had heartbeats before the inferno consumed the pier and I wouldn't be able to board, yet Tybira refused to release me. "There's still time!"

Cyprian was in there. Cyp, who had saved my life countless times. Cyp, who was the first to risk his own life. Cyp, whom I loved with all of my life, was in that blazing ship. And Tybira wouldn't let me rescue him.

"No!" She flung her full weight atop me, sending me toppling to the ground.

I screamed and thrashed, but Tybira remained firmly upon my lap. When it came to physical strength, she well out matched me. After my flailing arms gave up, I collapsed against her, panting and sobbing. I searched the flames.

Cyp was stronger than anyone I'd met. If anyone could find his way out, he could. Any moment his figure would emerge from the flames, barreling towards me. I'd leap into his arms and he'd twirl me around, pressing a kiss to my lips. Then I'd fulfill that promised I'd made him and prove how much I needed him.

Aphrodisia continued to deteriorate, hunks of artfully crafted wood falling away, crashing into the sea. Cyprian didn't appear. The pier cracked, sending sparks shooting into the sky. No Cyp.

He'd swim to the shore if he had to. He'd get to me. He promised he'd get back to me. He promised...

My throat clenched, a choked sob erupting from my lips. Blood rushed in my ears, my stomach rolled over, my headed pounded. Limp in Tybira's arms my body shook. I sucked in gulps of air, trying to breath through my tightened throat but could only splutter. Strangled. Choked in those deadly vines I'd seen Lady Lotus wield.

Cyprian had made me feel. He'd made me feel warm. He'd made me feel alive when all I'd felt was numbness. His absence made me feel. It made me drown in tears, gasping for breath as salty streams filled my lungs.

Aphrodisia mustered one last groan, the final wail of a wounded animal that knew he would die, but felt the need to lament the cruelty of the world, even with the last puff of air he would ever taste. With that final cry, the ship sank below the ocean's surface, taking Cyprian with it. Only driftwood and bits of charred tapestries remained.

              ~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~

Who Cares, Day 142 A.F

"It's your fault!" I flew at Gabriel. After days of senseless wandering, of letting Tybira lead me away from Cyprian's grave just as she had from Lalita's, something finally broke through that cloud of depression blindfolding me. Pure rage, targeted directly at the Archangel and his human friend. "If you'd just left us alone none of this would have happened! We should have left you both to rot in that ship."

Gabriel flared his wings, blocking my view of the ever-silent Lotan. I'd never seen his eyes so hard. "Empress, I am sorry about what happened. I'm sorry we lost the Hanged Man, believe me, I am. But I won't apologize for rescuing my friend. You'd have done the same."

Maybe I would have, but that didn't matter. Why should I trade the love of my life for Gabriel's friend? Why should I have put my quest for Paltic on hold? Why should I sacrifice for Gabriel's gain.

"Let's just leave, Gabe," Lotan interrupted. He peaked around Judgment's wing. "We're not wanted here anyway."

Face softening, Gabriel turned around, placing a hand on Lotan's arm. "Not until you're well. A few more days to recover, then we'll go. Don't worry." He cast me a glare over his shoulder. "The Empress can say whatever she likes, but she wouldn't dare harm you."

The threat wasn't lost on me.

"Stop fighting!" Tybira barked, abandoning Xanthus and the wolves to grab my hand. Chewing her lip, she glanced between Gabriel and me. Her worried eyes drifted towards Enki, hunched over his ruined wrist. "I think it's time. It's only getting worse."

While I hadn't participated in the debate, I'd heard Tybira and Gabriel whispering to each other, deliberating over what to do about Enki's hand and discussing all the details of our siege on Aphrodisia.

According to Gabriel, the original pair of Lovers had the ability to possess their victims, turning them to the same dark whims they savored. The two attempted to infect Enki with their love, but as an illusionist, Enki was immune to possession; the haze the Lovers cast was little but an illusion after all.

I'd been far too engrossed in my grief to mention that the twins had also tried to possess me, but I wasn't given such immunities. If I hadn't tortured Cyprian, would he have been more keen to remain with me? Did he understand I wasn't myself, that I'd never meant to hurt him like that?

Gabriel frowned. "It's for the best. The coloration is... at least this way it might start to heal faster, at least he won't keep opening it whenever he moves. Do you want me to do it?"

Tybira shook her head. "I'll do it."

"Have you told him yet?" he asked.

"Not yet." She glanced at Melville's axe in her hand, the hand bedecked with a new Icon, then made her way to kneel before the Magician. "Hey... Hey, handsome."

Enki glanced up, mustering a smile. "Hey, gorgeous. Handsome?"

"Would you prefer I called you scrawny and pale? Probably more accurate." Tybira brushed her hand against his cheek, pushing sweaty hair out of his face. Despite their relationship becoming romantic, very little had changed about their interactions. Still an array of insults and eyerolls, now interspersed with a compliment or gentle kiss every now and then. "I... uh... I was thinking... um... can I get a look at your hand?"

He lifted his wrist. Bile crept up my throat. The last time I'd seen his hand, it was purple. Now it was almost entirely black and necrotic. Rotten and stiff. "I know it looks bad, but I'm sure it'll get better soon. Damn Magician decelerated healing, huh?"

Tybira searched his face. "It won't, Enki. The hand is dead. I think it's time--"

"Time for what?" He spluttered. "To cut off my hand? Be serious, Tybira. I'm a magician. I need my hand to use my powers."

"Enki, please. Let me help you."

I glanced at my fingers, recalling the horrors I'd faced when I believed I'd need to endure a world without my fingers, without my powers. The future seemed impossible, though not nearly as bleak as a future without Cyprian. At least Enki still had Tybira at his side.

"You can't. I need my hand, you can't just..." A tear traced down his nose. He gathered his shirt, mud caked and bloody, and shoved a wad of disgusting fabric into his mouth.

Tybira guided his right arm to the ground, then readied the axe to finish what it had started. Enki closed his eyes.

Gabriel turned away. I followed suit, leaving only Tybira and Lotan to witness.

Even through the shirt, Enki's screams echoed through my body, almost as sharply as the thud of that axe meeting flesh and bone.

I finally turned back to see Tybira use her teeth to rip off a bit of material from her skirt to wrap the stub that was Enki's arm. She kissed away his tears, but the Magician didn't acknowledge her affection.

My eyes drifted to the black hand, discarded like a scrap of meat. I choked down rising vomit.

If only I could trade my hand for Cyprian. I'd give up my limbs for him in a heartbeat. His smile seared into my mind; I hoped to die before I'd ever forget his face. Not that his memory would fade any time soon. He was a part of me, more meaningful than my hand would ever be. To think he'd never hold me again, never kiss me again, never fight with me again.

I sank to my knees. Gone. Gone. Gone. Did he think burning that ship was worth it? Was setting Atlantis to rest more important than returning to me? How could he take such a risk for nothing? We could have walked off the boat hand and hand, escaping unscathed, victorious over the Lovers. Even dead Myra and Melville took their revenge, ruining my chance at love and happiness.

He promised he'd come back to me. He promised.

What I wouldn't give to just hear him berate me one last time. At least when he was frustrated with me he was still with me.

I hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye, hadn't been allowed to find his body. Just like I hadn't gotten the chance to pay tribute to Lalita before having to flee Amire's laboratory.

I cradled his sword in my arms, the rope wound around the handle. Cyprian had given it to me before he left. Like he knew. Like a parting gift or last momento. I didn't even know how to use it. A permanent image of him, a reminder, almost like an Icon. I wondered who wore his.

Maybe he'd be happy. Maybe he wanted it this way. He was below the sea with Circe, reunited at last. Perhaps it had been his plan all along and I was just a sacrifice.

But Cyp had promised me. Good people didn't just break promises, especially not of that magnitude. I was confident Cyp had spent all of his final breaths fighting to get back to me.

Just like I would have fought to get back to him.

Just like I'd fight to get back to Paltic.

The Game had stolen my mother, my sister, my love. I'd take my best friend back. It couldn't keep everything from me, and if she was out there, I'd track her down like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. With all else gone, Paltic was my world.

"Wait..." Tybira whispered, shooting to her feet.

Gabriel's wings shot out. He cocked his head like a bird. "I hear it too. Footsteps."

I strained my ears, but heard nothing. No doubt the animalistic Arcana had far stronger senses than I did. I already knew Tybira could see in the dark. "Do you think it's Paravaiz? Or Matthew?" Had Nose and Red escaped Aphrodisia, or were they lost to the flames like Cyprian? I hoped they'd burned. How dare the fire snuff out only goodness? "If it's that far away, can't we just run?"

Tybira sniffed. "I don't recognize the scent. And we don't have time to run. Just to get ready."

I readied Cyp's sword and summoned my claws. "I don't hear any Call. Maybe they're mortal?"

"I don't think I heard a single Call since we left the ship," Gabriel said. "I think the Fool is blocking them again."

Damn you, Matthew. What now? Not only was he leaving us defenseless, but he'd allowed Cyprian to walk to his death without warning. I all but loathed that manipulative fox.

As the wolves circled the unmoving Enki, I scanned the horizon. While I was still unable to hear his approach, I made out a tall, male figure striding towards our camp, a sword dangling at his side.

Tybira and Gabriel rushed to my flank after forcefully shoving Enki and Lotan behind. While Enki didn't bother to move on his own, Lotan lamented his uselessness, demanding to fight.

But in the end, it was only Gabriel, Tybira, and me against the rapidly approaching man.

He finally came into view, but before I could study his face his Tableau covered him. So he was an Arcana.

I instantly recognized the Tarot Card: a skeletal horseman bearing a flag with a white rose emblem as people pleaded at his feet. His identity rocked through me, rattling my being with terror.

Death.

The merciless reaper with the fatal touch. One of the most deadly Arcana. The foe Gabriel said we could only pray to never encounter.

Now Death, armed with a sword he hardly needed stood before us.

I blinked away the Tableau, almost surprised to see a living man before me. Not a skeleton, but a man of flesh and blood.

He was also shockingly young, perhaps no more than nineteen summers. While I'd never pictured Death as youthful, I remembered that all Arcana had lived under twenty-five summers. While he was young, he was hardly a peer. Amire, Shiva, Myra and Melville had all been young.

And even Death could carry a charming facade. Amire had been handsome. Lady Lotus was beautiful. Like a poisonous flower their beauty masked their cruelty and danger. Death was no exception, but I wouldn't be fooled again. He was a monster.

I raised my claws, my hair flaming red.

Death dipped his chin in my direction. "I'd wait a moment with those." He spoke calmly, with a heavy accent I couldn't place. "While I doubt you could, if you killed me now, you'd never learn the location of your darling Hanged Man."

My knees shook, almost giving out. "What do you know? What did you do to him, you filthy bastard?" Had he kept Cyprian from me? Had he detained him, or... worse?

He raised an eyebrow, obviously amused by my anguish. Death raked his eyes over me, reveling in my pain, in the power he knew he commanded over me. "Now, Empress, you must know that nothing so vital can come for free. I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement?"