Chapter 15: Chapter 14: Polarized Vision

Inside the endless dark of The Pit, Eris’s formless body drifted weightlessly. Before her, a swirling, transparent mirror shimmered—showing the world through Deimos’s eyes.

She watched as Kiwi stood over Deimos’s bloodied form. The image dimmed, the curse Eris had planted in him forcing his body into unconsciousness. Control slipped away.

The mirror dissolved into nothing. Eris stared into the abyss, her gaze cold and unreadable.

“…Ouch,” she muttered, her annoyance low and measured.

The air shifted. Out of the black mist floated a sock puppet—its faded fabric dangling from a severed human arm that twitched with every motion. The googly eyes atop the puppet spun wildly, unblinking.

“What troubles you, Your Majesty?” the puppet asked, voice cheery yet trembling.

“The seed containing my essence,” Eris replied, “which I embedded into the body of the Sun Tarot… has been defeated. By one of Lirael’s creations.”

“Why, that is to be expected, my goddess,” the puppet—Percival—said quickly. “The seedling is young, still adapting to the Tarot’s soul. It was forced to act when the host’s soul was destabilized during extraction and retrieval. Combined with the lack of Arkhaios energy in his core—”

“None of what I create,” Eris cut in, lightning crackling violet around her, “should ever be defeated by anything of Lirael’s. She is inferior to me. If I have lost, Percival, then you are suggesting my essence is weaker than hers… aren’t you?”

The storm of her words made the puppet shudder violently.

“N—no! Never! Forgive me, goddess—it was a fluke! Lirael’s creature was merely… lucky.”

Eris’s glare lingered, cold and sharp, before it softened into a thin smile. She laughed—quiet at first, then curling into something unnerving.

“Are you truly sorry?”

Percival bobbed his head frantically, the googly eyes spinning with the motion.

“Then go to the Fourth Layer,” she said, her voice turning to velvet steel, “and kill that girl yourself. She interfered with my plan, and embarrassed me. Perhaps once she’s dead, Lirael will learn to keep a closer eye on her toys.”

The puppet froze. “…You’re sending me on a mission?”

A tense silence followed. Then his eyes glittered with excitement. “Oh, goddess, what an honor! A chance to prove my loyalty after such disgrace—truly, I am unworthy!”

He twirled and spun through the air in giddy celebration before halting mid-spin. “But… how will I ascend? Irelya forbids the greater Macabre from leaving this place.”

Eris considered, then snapped her fingers. The air coiled into a spiral of violet-blue light, which condensed into a black glass chalice brimming with dark red liquid.

Percival stared, entranced. “…Is that—”

“Eirene’s blood,” Eris confirmed. “Harvested from her corpse. You may be my child, but the human arm you use is not. Apply this to the wound, and Eirene’s healing factor will awaken. Your host’s body will then fully regenerate.”

She smirked. “Since Irelya’s aware I cannot mimic or create anything human like, he will see you no differently than he saw the Sun Tarot when he was sent back.”

Percival’s eyes spun like mad. “Genius… truly genius!”

Eris drew droplets from the chalice and floated them to the puppet’s severed edge. As the blood sank in, it burned black through the veins of the arm. Flesh knit itself together in seconds, the human body reforming in full.

“That should keep you stable for now,” she said. “Complete your task, and the rest of this glass will be yours—forever keeping that body.”

Percival grinned wide. “Understood, my goddess. That Tarot is as good as dead—I swear it!”

He rose through the swirling mist, cheering as he returned to the world above.

Eris lingered in the stillness, her smile faint but curling with interest.

“I’m curious, Sun Tarot… will you try to save Lirael’s creations too?”

----------------------------------------

Kiwi dropped from the castle’s roof in silence.

Remus’s limp body rested across her shoulder; in her other hand, she dragged Deimos by the collar, his weight scraping against the stone.

What is wrong with me…?

She stepped through the desolate entrance. The corpses that had littered the hall were gone, yet their absence was worse than their presence. Blood stained the marble, furniture lay splintered and overturned. The silence pressed in, suffocating.

The newts were gone—slain—but dozens of lives had been taken with them. Kiwi’s fingers brushed the Eclipse marking on her forehead, her stomach knotting.

Why can I never be certain of what I want?

She blinked away the haze and teleported into the corridor where Princess Elvira and Birgitta had been. Empty.

A long breath escaped her. She prepared to teleport again.

How many knots will I twist around my own heart before it suffocates?

Her senses stretched outward, brushing through the castle until they found the familiar pulses of two souls—their cores burning faintly amidst the chaos.

I’ve failed my purpose. I’ve failed the goddess. I’ve become… inverted.

She appeared in the grand hall. The air was thick with the smell of blood. Guards and maids picked through the wounded and the dead, searching for survivors. Birgitta and Elvira moved among them, exhaustion etched across their faces.

The only way to atone for my sins… is to—

The hall stilled as she stepped forward, the prince and the Sun Tarot slung over her. Gasps broke the quiet. The guards stiffened, hands flying to their weapons.

—is to…

“Wait!” Princess Elvira’s voice cut through the tension.

Every guard froze.

“Lower your weapons—now!” she commanded, and steel reluctantly withdrew from the air.

Elvira and Birgitta exchanged a look before Elvira tried again, her tone softening.

“Please… come here. We can treat your wounds—”

“No.”

Kiwi lowered the bodies with care, placing them on the cold floor as if setting down something fragile. She stood, expression unreadable, and looked at the two women.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“I quit.”

She turned to leave.

“You’re a Tarot, aren’t you?” Elvira’s voice followed her, Diagnostic sheet in hand.

Kiwi stopped.

The guards glanced among themselves, whispers breaking out.

“What was the reason?” Elvira pressed, her voice trembling between confusion and anger. “You’ve been a maid here for years—why hide who you are?”

“Why join Eclipse? The same people who do everything Tarots were made to stop?” She pressed on.

“I’m not made like Crown Tarots,” Kiwi said at last, her gaze flicking briefly to Deimos’s still form.

“They serve clear purposes—specific missions meant to protect humanity. But us Court Tarots…”

Her voice echoed faintly in the blood-stained hall. “…we’re given vague purposes in comparison—roles no one can truly define. So we try to define them ourselves… and that makes us more human than Tarot. We make our own choices. And, like humans, sometimes those choices are mistakes.”

Her eyes drifted shut for a breath.

But I’ve made plenty these last few years…

She looked toward Birgitta again.

Ever since you died, Elise… I’ve been unraveling. Spiraling into madness.

“I deeply apologize, Your Royal Highness,” she said, bowing her head slightly toward Elvira. “For everything I’ve done.”

Though my actions don’t deserve forgiveness.

“Elise…” Birgitta’s voice cracked. “You… you said that name. How do you know my sister?”

Kiwi’s eyes widened—not in fear, but in something more fragile. A small smile touched her lips, and it only deepened Birgitta’s confusion.

“I was hoping we would meet one day, Birgitta…” she said quietly. “…I only wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

Birgitta’s breath caught.

“You look just like her.”

Kiwi’s smile faltered, the warmth retreating.

No. I have to leave. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to speak to you.

She turned to go, shoes clicking across the stone.

“W—who are you?!” Birgitta’s voice rang out, desperate, trembling.

Kiwi stopped. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

“A wilted blue rose.”

And then she was gone—vanishing into the air, leaving the grand hall in a silence so thick it almost felt like a wound.

Kiwi teleported just outside the castle, preparing to slip into the nearby woods when a voice called out behind her.

“Kiwiana.”

She froze. The voice was sharp, commanding.

“I told you not to call me that.”

Kiwi said, turning slowly to see Tiamat standing there, her hood shadowing most of her face.

“Where are you going? The plan isn’t finished. I still don’t have the boy,” Tiamat said.

Kiwi didn’t stop walking.

“I don’t care,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to be part of this anymore.”

“I don’t think so,” Tiamat’s eyes flared red as she raised a hand, pointing at Kiwi’s forehead.

“As long as that symbol remains on your skin, you will obey my commands.”

Kiwi staggered, the eclipse sigil on her forehead glowing a deep maroon. She grunted, struggling as Tiamat’s hex tried to take hold.

But then, Kiwi’s body erupted with an emerald green aura, exploding outward and shattering the dark influence.

Tiamat froze, stunned for a moment—then smiled.

“I must say, your willpower is truly exceptional, even for a Court Tarot.”

Kiwi shook her head.

“I wouldn’t call it that. It’s just…” she started. “The way this hex works is by forcing your will, your commands into our minds, right?”

She stepped forward, locking eyes with the dragon queen.

“Well I felt more than that. Since you branded me with this sigil, I’ve felt your passion—no, your obsession. One that is leading you down a destructive path.”

Tiamat laughed, cold and bitter.

“Destruction is a dragon’s nature. What are you trying to say?”

Kiwi’s voice grew softer, but no less determined.

“I’m aware of that. But yours is equally self-destructive in practice as well. And it's also planned, so I know you're doing this for a reason.”

Her mind flashed back to Elise’s words years ago:

That love, that desire for more—it’s a real human feeling.

“You’re doing this because you’re feeling what humans call… love, aren’t you?”

Tiamat’s smile slowly vanished.

“Ahah, cute— but I am the Queen of Dragons. I have no interest in such a simple concept.”

Kiwi pressed on.

“You’re only seeing it as destroying, but when I gained this sigil, I followed a similar path—a path of destruction but from desperation. Desperation for human affection and recognition, no matter the cost.”

She paused, eyes narrowing.

“But what makes us different—the reason your tricks no longer control me—is because I’ve realized I’ve already lost. I have nothing left to chase.”

Her grin was quiet, knowing—like she’d read Tiamat inside and out.

“Unlike you, who continues drowning deeper in your own sins.”

Kiwi turned and began walking away, her voice ringing clear over her shoulder.

“I’ve lost everything… but how much are you willing to lose?”

Tiamat clenched her fist, a forced smile twisting her lips.

“If you come for me,” Kiwi said, fading from sight, “I will slay you myself.”

The trees swayed gently as shafts of sunlight broke through the clouds. Birds chirped faintly in the distance.

Tiamat stood alone, her cloak rippling in the breeze, silent.

“I can’t believe you,” she hissed through gritted teeth, talking to herself. “You’ve planted these feelings in my body, and forced me to play this game of pretend.”

“How much longer will it be before you wake from this dream and remember what we truly are?”

----------------------------------------

Back in the Grand Hall, Elvira rushed to Prince Remus’ side, her expression tight with worry. Birgitta trailed behind, still lost in thought over Kiwi’s words.

She approached Deimos, kneeling to check for wounds—only for his eyes to suddenly flutter open.

“Deimos…?” Birgitta asked softly.

Deimos blinked, scanning his surroundings. “Where… am I?” What happened? Did I lose?

“You’re in the castle’s grand hall,” Elvira replied, offering him a warm but weary smile. Remus’ head rested in her lap.

A moment later, the heavy doors burst open as nurses and guards poured into the hall, fanning out to tend to the injured.

“Oh good, they’ve arrived just in time,” Elvira sighed with relief as a group reached her. They gently lifted Remus from her lap and carried him away for treatment.

Birgitta’s gaze wandered across the chaos until she spotted a nurse tending to Deimos. She tapped the woman’s shoulder.

“U–uh, excuse me… is there a girl with blonde hair and green eyes among you? Her name’s Elizabeth.”

The nurse’s eyes lit with recognition. “Oh! You’re her friend, aren’t you? I remember seeing you two back in Breshire.” She spoke while carefully unfastening Deimos’ armor.

“I don’t think Elizabeth left with the rest of us. She mentioned going with a recovery team back to Hawthorn to retrieve some of her things.”

“B–back to Hawthorn?” Birgitta’s voice sharpened.

“That place was destroyed—what could she possibly need from there? And why would the guards even let her go?”

The nurse set the armor aside and began wrapping bandages around Deimos’ bare torso. “I couldn’t say for sure… but I’m guessing they’re giving her leeway because she’s an Avatar.”

She glanced down. “Excuse me, Sun Tarot—are these too tight?”

Deimos shook his head. “N-no, they’re fine. Thank you.”

The nurse turned to Birgitta and Elvira, lifting the roll of bandages in silent offering. Both shook their heads, and she moved on.

“Wait…” Deimos asked suddenly, “What happened to the dragon?”

Elvira’s expression dimmed. “Unfortunately… I believe it got away.”

Damn it… Deimos thought, his brows furrowing as his eyes swept over the dozens of wounded lying across the hall.

I spent all that time trying to stop Remus from hurting innocents, only for Tiamat to do it anyway.

His fists tightened.

There had to have been a better way to prevent this.

Then, a thought struck him.

“Elvira… where’s Amelia?”

A heavy silence fell.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her face solemn. “We searched everywhere, but… I couldn’t find a trace of her.”

Before her thoughts could spiral further, the grand hall’s doors creaked open once more.

The bustling hall fell into a hush. Faint footsteps echoed against the marble floor, drawing closer.

Deimos, Birgitta, and Elvira all turned—and froze.

Commander Amelia was walking through the hall, her steps slow, her face distant and unreadable.

And in her arms, resting as in a peaceful slumber… was Queen Selene.