The Lovers' Bedroom, Day 104 A.F

I was aware of only one thing as I finally regained consciousness: agony.

I could scarcely tell where the true pain emminated. My head seemed to be swirling, my stomach clenching with nausea. Burning agony forced my eyes open, but with a yelp I clenched them shut again. I saw nothing but red glistening on the table before me. The sight was enough to force ragged gags through my anguished sobs. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, trembling violently.

"Relax, Empress." The voice seemed acres away. I could hear little but my own grunts and gasps. "It isn't as though we killed you."

No. They hadn't killed me. If they had, I'd not be shaking, cheek resting against a table soaked with my own blood. Still, that axe hadn't bitten into my neck. While pain racked the majority of my body, the most acute pain burned  my hands. What had they done? Stealing myself, I forced my eyes open again.

Through wavy, unfocused eyes I stared at what was left of my hands. I didn't know how long I'd been unconscious, or how many slices Melville had made, but it was clearly at least two. It took all my will to keep from screaming when I noticed ten thin bits of flesh scattered across the table, resting in the pool of blood. The sharp tips of my claws gleamed, dispatched from my hands. I nearly vomited. Melville had cut off my fingers.

I clutched my stubby hands to my chest, unable to restrain my sobs. I'd never be able to hold something again. To make matters worse, without my claws, I was utterly defenseless.

"Really pathetic, Empress," Myra sneered, patting me harshly on the back. "We've read about you slicing off your own leg to escape a trap. You didn't even shed a tear."

Somehow, I fixated on her alto voice, picking it out through my ragged breathing and the ringing in my years. I found something even stronger than my pain. My rage. These revolting monsters had caused Cyprian to be separated from his family.  They had mortals worshipping them as gods, bringing them human sacrifices. They kept animals caged in their menagerie.  They repeatedly murdered our wolves. They tormented Tybira, nearly drowned Cyprian, and abused Enki. They kept us in utter darkness, nearly starved. They cut off my fingers. My sobs died away.

I raised my gaze to the Lovers, searing into them with all my hatred. "Get it through your twisted minds- I have never, nor will I ever, be anything like those past Empresses you've read about."

Melville tilted his head, grinning massively. "Nothing like them at all?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, dear," Myra crooned. She strutted towards a pink vanity station, complete with a large chair and even larger mounted mirror. The woman retrieved a ruby encrusted hand held looking glass and returned to her brother's side. She nearly hit me in the nose, brandishing her mirror centimeters from my face.

No. That's not... how could it... Staring back at me was a hauntingly familiar woman. Glowing green glyphs swirled along my arms, shining through the numerous blood smears. My hair had become a vibrant red, leafs strewn through the untidy locks. My now grass colored eyes widened. I frowned. So did the witch in the mirror. Lady Lotus? No... Despite the similarities between the reflection in the glass, the image I was transfixed with had a birthmark on the left side of her chin. The slight change in pigment wouldn't have been noticeable to most, but I instantly saw it. I'd worn that mark my entire life. I wasn't seeing a past Empress...

My eyes flickered to the crest of my head. Poking through the mane of leafs and red hair, a brown vine emerged, snaking slowly along my forehead as if attempting to incircle my head. Though the thorns  that populated the vine appeared as sharp as my claws, somehow, I wasn't scratched.

Unthinkingly, I reached towards the vine. I yearned to run my fingers along the wood, caressing the deadliest thorn. But I couldn't. My fingers had been stolen, sliced away from my very being.

In an instant, the vine reversed its corse. Rather than forming a thorny crown atop my head, it retreated, disappearing under a layer of hair. Where...? It was as if it had somehow burrowed into my flesh, but I felt nothing.

Myra snatched the mirror away. "See? You're not that different than Empresses of old. Hate brings out the best in you. We bring out the best in you. Hate is not different than love. Any Lover knows the adrenaline caused by either emotion."

"You'll have to excuse us for clipping your nails," Melville apologized. "You can't handle a rose without cutting off its thorns, or a viper without removing its fangs. If it makes you feel any better, we do the same with the poultry. We clip their wings every ten weeks so they can't fly away. Every two days for our prized bird."

I only glared at them, not trusting that my voice be level. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of listening to my whimpers.

"Still, we're quite proud of you," Myra enthused, patting my shoulder. I bristled sharply at her touch, shrinking away. "You saw that vine, didn't you? When it finally encircles your head, permanently crowning you in thorns, your transition will be complete. Finally, the Empress slumbering inside you will awake and worthless virtues such as mercy, compassion and loyalty will cease to exist within you. You will be a force to be reckoned with."

"You're wrong," I bit out, my voice rough and feeble.

"It happens in every Game," she quipped. "Just ask your friend Matthew. If he wished to, he could answer right now."

Myra had a point. Seeing the future, The Fool could offer concrete proof that I wouldn't succumb to Lady Lotus.

I won't be what they say I was in this Game, right Matthew?

I waited, practically holding my breath. No answer. I wasn't all that surprised. After all, hadn't Matthew stated that he wants me to give in to the Empress's darkest whims?

"Just as well," Melville sighed.

The pool of my blood rippled as Myra dragged two slender fingers slowly through the crimson liquid. She studied her red stained fingers before leisurely holding out her hand to Melville. The man met his sister's eyes before deliberately licking the blood from one finger. Myra grinned, mimicking the revolting action.

As if the pain isn't enough to make me sick...

"Previous Lovers have theorized that Empress blood might be the elixir of youth," Melville explained, his tongue flicking across his lips. "Superstitious nonsense I'm sure. But if there's even a chance, it's worth a try."

"It makes perfect sense why our past lives would guess it," Myra added, shrugging her slender shoulders. "Isn't it ironic that the Empress, an Arcana so skilled at ending life, bleeds just that?"

"Indeed, sister," Melville agreed, looping his arm around her waist. "While she kills without mercy, life flows through her veins. She is the embodiment of life itself."

"You have to understand why we needed to trim your nails," Myra continued. "That being said, we'd still like you to join us. Just remember, we too are a force to be reckoned with."

They are powerful, Lady Lotus reminded, her still intact claws tickling my skull. And they want you. The Magician never did. Since they have sought you out, rather than being forced to put up with you, that means they are far less likely to betray you.

And far more likely to decapitate me for their own sick entertainment, I mentally retorted.

"We can aid you on your quest," Melville hummed. In sync, he and Myra slunk around the table, switching sides.  "We've searched your heart. It's quite... bleak. But that one glimmer of hope. Your friend, isn't it? We can help you reach her. Otherwise, you'll drown in the pain that consumes you. The darkness in your heart will swallow you."

"Your heart physically burns, just as sharply as this-" Myra snatched my left wrist, slamming my mangled hand onto the table.

Pain shot up my arm, coursing from my hand to my shoulder and down my back. I tried to clench my teeth, but I couldn't swallow the yelp that escaped my lips.

"Revel in that agony, Empress. Enjoy it," she urged, leaning close enough that her damp breath caressed my cheek. "With our guidance, you can learn to turn pain to pleasure."

Melville twisted his wrist slowly, then held his upturned palm to me, as if physically offering his point. "It's all about perspective, really. Physically, the sensations are one in the same."

"Indeed, brother." Myra dipped her pointed chin in agreement. "Why does the heart race and the cheeks flush both when in the midsts of a heated argument, or a playful conversation with someone attractive? Why do people moan and yell in both agony, and when with a lover?"

"We can teach you to overcome that mental barrier," Melville encouraged. "That way, you'll never feel this pain again. Or at least not in an undesirable way."  

Never feel pain again? My hands throbbed, the most prevalent thought in my mind. Could that agony truly be reduced? Though I hated to admit it, The Lovers' words made some semblance of sense. Pain and pleasure were sides of the same coin, just like Thanatos and Eros.

"With our help, you might even stop sniveling about that killed sister of yours," Myra snipped. "The first step could be taking some of our tips and replacing your sister with the Hanged Man's kisses. We'll let him live for your sake, for a bit. You'll have your fun with him, and when he's been completely mesmerized, we'll even let you take his Icon."

I growled. Though I might care for Cyprian, he would never, ever fill the whole Lita had once filled. And I would never betray him. Phantom tingles tickled my hands as if I still retained my claws.

"Fine," Melville sniffed. "But you'll regret denying us when Death comes for you. The Reaper always searches for the Empress. Usually you can match his strength as an equal, but now? When you refuse to give in to your true self? You might represent life, but you can still die."

"You won't even be able to defend your lover," Myra tittered. "I hear the Touch of Death is positively excruciating."

Touch of Death? I certainly didn't want to meet any Reaper, but allying with the Duke and Duchess most perverse?

-I watch you like a hawk.- That unidentified voice broke into my mind, sparing me from further considering their proposition.

"What was that?" My voice sounded like grating sandpaper.

Melville frowned, tilting his head. "What was what? Did you hear anything, my love?"

"No, darling," Myra answered, wrapping both arms around her brother's waist. "It was likely just the animals in the menagerie. You know how noisy that birdy is, always squawking."

A loud clang echoed from far down the corridor, followed by a shout. The Lovers' eyes met, whites very visible.

"Damn! What was that?" Melville whirled around as a cascade of growls, yelps an squawks erupted.

"Something's gone amiss in the menagerie," Myra gasped. She narrowed her eyes on me. "You distracted us! We let our guard down when you jumped us."

Six frantic knocks pounded against the locked bedroom door.

"Don't just stand there knocking," Melville hollard, frantic. "Get in here. What's going on, damn it?"

The door flung open and Scraggly-Beard raced into the bedroom. Panting and stumbling to a halt, he hastily bowed. "My glorious Lord and Lady, I beg your pardon for such an abhorrent interruption-"

"Stop blathering!" Myra's voice was venom. "Get on with it, you miserable buffoon!"

"The prisoners have escaped," Scraggly-Beard croaked. "They broke into the menagerie. We can't contain them!"

The Lovers locked eyes. In unison, a sly smile spread across their lips. "Then let them loose." They spoke simultaneously.

"Shehm, guard the door. We need some more uninterrupted time with the Empress. The others won't leave without their perfect little rose," Myra giggled.

They fixed me with the gaze of a stalking wildcat. "And we won't be letting her out of our sights. At least not while her lifeblood still flows."

((Hey y'all! Seriously, I feel like my editing is declining. Every time I think I got all the typos, there's some more staring me in the face.
Congratulations on those of you who made the Watty's Long List! A huge shoutout to To Infinity by triciabird . If you didn't make it I was going to fight someone.
Thank you so much to all of you who took a look at 2500. As I said earlier, this will remain my priority, but I felt the need to get out a rough draft of the first three chapters of 2500.

So, anyway, I apologize for the long wait for this chapter, and I apologize for how long the Arcana crew have been spending on the Lovers. I know it seems like they haven't been doing anything for almost ten chapters, but I promise the information Ayesha and the others are gaining is very important. But thankfully you'll get a change of scenery in just two more chapters. I'm not sure when it will be published. I have chapter 29 completed, but I don't want to publish it until I have at least chapter 30 finished.

Any guesses on who the mystery Call is? If any of you know your Tarot Deck you might be able to guess. I know the wonderful DanGarrett knows Tarot Cards pretty well, but I don't know if anyone else does.

Do you think Ayesha will be able to hang on to her morals despite Matthew and the Lovers telling her she's destined to be malicious?

Any other predictions are welcome! I love to see what you're thinking about.))