Chapter 18: Chapter 17: I Remember You

“I shouldn’t have walked away like that…” Deimos murmured, standing on the balcony of his room. The sun bled into the horizon, casting long shadows over a day scarred by tragedy.

Below, the wounded were ferried to nearby hospitals, the surviving maids moved quietly through the halls with broom and cloth, and the kitchens came alive with the muted clatter of dinner preparations. The royal family had been escorted to their chambers, each under guard, while patrols swept the castle grounds for any lingering threat.

“But I can’t risk anyone’s safety by staying here,” he said, his mind replaying the moment in the grand hall—how the revelation that Eris lurked within his Soul’s Core had rattled him. Panic had driven him past Elvira, Remus, and Fatima without so much as a glance, his only thought to retreat to the solitude of this room.

Why did I even come back? I should leave… before I hurt someone.

He looked down at his hands. His eyes glowed white as a soft flame curled to life, swirling around the blackened steel of his gauntlets.

I’m sorry, Selene… but as long as the goddess of discord resides in my Soul’s Core, I’m no better than the dragon I’m meant to protect these people from.

The golden light of the setting sun tangled with the pale glow radiating from his form. Flames traced lazy circles between his fingers as he searched for a way—any way—to keep Eris from taking control. But the more he thought, the more the situation’s inevitability pressed in.

“If I could offer my opinion…”

The voice startled him. The flames vanished instantly. He scanned the balcony until his gaze fell on the metal railing. His reflection stared back at him, still and silent—its irises glowing pink.

“I say we use Eirene’s power… and burn the curse out, right now.” It smiled.

“…Who are you?” Deimos asked, brows furrowing.

“I’m you, obviously. Well… your subconscious, to be exact.”

“What? How are you talking to me?” He blinked, thrown off by the fact that his own soul was answering him.

“As Eris’ curse grows stronger, the line between us blurs. My appearance here is both a symptom… and a warning.”

“Wait—Birgitta—”

“All she did was keep the seed from spreading across our Soul’s Core,” the reflection cut in. “So now, it’s burrowing deeper, and faster at that.” It gestured toward its glowing pink irises.

“The deeper the roots grow, the stronger she becomes. And if she gets strong enough… eventually the conscious and subconscious will swap places entirely.”

The reflection kept smiling, even as its words sank in. For it was the purest form of the Sun Tarot—positivity and joy incarnate—so smiling came naturally, no matter how grim the truth it spoke.

“So you’re saying…” Deimos muttered, the realization dawning.

“I will become you—but only under her influence. And you will become me… trapped in the hollow shell our Core turns into.”

“Then what can we do?” Deimos asked.

“I already told you,” the reflection replied. “We channel Eirene’s plasma into the curse and burn it out. Same thing we did with Remus—just a hundred times stronger.”

“No. We can’t.” Deimos shook his head. “That much energy would tear through our Soul’s Core along with the curse—and it’s already damaged.”

He remembered Birgitta showing him the diagnostic. Core stability: ninety-one percent.

“Recovery would take too long, and there’s too much at stake right now. I need to keep my strength if I’m going to find and kill the dragon.”

“Your willingness to protect Eirene’s purpose is what makes us who we are,” the reflection said. “But Eirene also gave us human emotions. And from what little I know about humans… I’m pretty sure they do this thing called resting.” Its pink irises flickered as it spoke.

“We don’t have to finish this as quickly as possible. As long as we stay true to what we are and keep moving forward, that’s all that matters.”

“But Selene, Amelia… so many others need me now,” Deimos muttered, the wind carrying his words. “I can’t help them if I cripple myself.”

“There’s no time for breaks. This is the moment. This is why Eirene brought us back to Enmida—why she made us her heir. To restore humanity’s hope.”

The reflection sighed—a small break in the smile it had worn this entire time.

“Listen, me. I get that you’ve got… conflicting thoughts about your duties as a Tarot, or whatever’s weighing on you out there. But I’m your soul’s immune system. My main job is to keep you alive—no matter what it costs, even if it sets us back.”

The reflection paused, its smile softening. “Eirene gave you emotions for a reason—so we could understand there’s more to humanity. Maybe our purpose needs to carry a reason beyond simply doing what she wishes.”

It tilted its head slightly. “Though I think… she gave us another purpose— one we couldn’t realize at first.”

Deimos’s gaze drifted downward. On the castle grounds, a group of patrolling guards had stopped near a deer and her fawn. The little one was tangled in a rough snare of vines, its mother nudging and pawing desperately in an attempt to free it.

The guards approached, causing the mother to tense, but one knelt and drew a dagger, slicing through the vines. The fawn staggered, legs trembling, and collapsed into the guard’s arms.

The others gathered around as the guard gently stroked the fawn’s head before setting it down. It wobbled back to its mother, who pressed her muzzle to it in relief. Then, to Deimos’s surprise, the doe stepped toward the guards, lowering her head in what looked almost like gratitude. The men chuckled softly, each taking a turn to pat the pair before moving on.

From the balcony, Deimos watched the scene in silence.

“And I believe,” the reflection said, its voice low but certain, “that finding that reason… is our other purpose.”

Deimos exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling over him.

A long silence stretched between them before the subconscious finally spoke again.

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“I’m just letting you know—it’s getting bad in here. I won’t use Eirene’s power to burn the curse out yet, but if things get worse… I won’t have much choice. So don’t be too shocked if we suddenly go up in flames.” It laughed lightly.

Deimos gave a faint smile, watching as the deer and her fawn disappeared into the trees, the guards waving them off before resuming their patrol.

“Sure thing,” he muttered.

“So… are you still planning on leaving?”

“…No,” Deimos said after a pause, his voice firmer now. “I’ll prove to Eris herself that her corruption can’t taint the body of Eirene’s heir. I won’t run in fear of harming the innocent—because I am what stands between them and the harm that hunts them.”

The reflection’s smile widened as its form began to blur, melting back into Deimos’s own image.

“That’s the spirit,” it said, before vanishing entirely.

Deimos stood there for a moment, letting the quiet settle.

“…Eirene gave me humanity so I could see the beauty in mankind the way she once did,” he murmured. She wants me to find my own will—to choose my own reason to save them—not just carry hers because of a purpose.”

He lingered on the thought, then turned from the balcony and stepped back into his room.

Deimos approached the door handle, glancing at his hand. A faint afterimage of himself mirrored his movements for a brief moment before fading completely.

He opened the door and stepped into the castle hallway, immediately met by Commander Eamon, who loomed over him with an imposing presence, startling him.

“Ah, Tarot of the Sun,” Eamon said, his gaze lingering on Deimos’ chest, studying the glow of his Soul Core. “It seems you’ve recovered somewhat.”

“E–ehm? Do you need something?” Deimos asked cautiously.

“Yes. Queen Selene has awakened and requests your presence immediately,” Eamon replied, his voice flat and precise.

Selene’s awake? Deimos thought, nodding. “O-okay. Understood.”

Eamon’s irises glowed a soft blue, and a faint, melodic giggle echoed through the hall. Water shimmered around him, coalescing into form as it surrounded the two.

Suddenly, an Undine emerged—her body composed entirely of clear, flowing water. She had no eyes except for a small glowing white orb on her forehead. She approached Deimos, inspecting him, then laughed softly, tilting her head toward Eamon as she pointed at the Sun Tarot.

“Now, now, Iara, no need to be rude,” Eamon said smoothly. “I am aware his Soul Core’s energy is mediocre for a Tarot, but he was chosen by the goddess. He deserves respect.”

Deimos blinked, confused. “U-uhm…”

Before he could respond, the Undine let out a long, bubbly sigh, grabbed him by the face, and dragged him into the water. In an instant, they teleported to the throne room.

Deimos surfaced as the water dispersed, disoriented. Strangely, his clothes were completely dry.

“Thank you, Eamon. You are no longer needed,” Queen Selene said. Eamon bowed deeply before leaving, his brow furrowed as he vanished.

What’s that guy’s deal? Deimos thought, watching the Commander disappear.

He turned to Queen Selene, who sat gracefully on her throne. Her hair cascaded to the floor, her uncertain smile both familiar and unsettling.

Even Deimos could tell—something was wrong.

“Deimos…” Queen Selene said, her tone formal.

“Selene… I’m glad you’re okay. Is something wrong?” He asked, the room heavy with eerie silence.

Selene’s lips parted. “I assume you are aware of my son’s secret.”

Deimos nodded slowly. “I am… The castle was invaded by a group called Eclipse, led by the dragon Queen Tiamat. They were searching for him.”

He remembered the events of yesterday as if they had just happened, the memory vivid in his mind.

“I still don't understand though Selene, why is she so persistent on getting Prince Remus, the dragon Queen of the world tree at that?” He asked to which the room was enveloped in silence.

Selene opened her lips to speak, “Deimos… I should have been truthful with you from the start— I truly apologize.”

Deimos’ brows furrowed, confused.

“I didn’t expect Tiamat to become so bold this fast, but considering what happened yesterday, I think it’s time I tell you the truth…”

“Tell me the truth about what?” Deimos asked.

“About who I am,”

Selene sighed before speaking. “Half a millennium ago, before the world was reset by Lirael,” she began, her voice steady and measured,

“The original Tarot of the Moon used his Signature at the exact moment of the reset, rendering himself unaffected. After the world was reset, he awoke months later—disoriented, confused, yet still in full remembrance of the world that had been.”

“He then explored this renewed world for years, gradually realizing that Lirael had altered everything—far beyond what he had expected or wished for. And over time, he began to regret what he had done.” A frown set across her face.

“As the years passed, word of this ‘Moon Tarot’ spread as he travelled aimlessly. People were confused, for, like you, he had been erased from history by Lirael’s rewrite. No one knew of his existence—until now. And out of curiosity, they began to follow him.”

“And the more followers he gained, the more he revealed of the world that had been—the more he awakened others to its grim truths, hoping to spark some measure of change.”

Her tone shifted from one of sadness to one of frustration.

“But all it accomplished was to enrage Lirael. She sent one of her Revenants, who slaughtered his followers and confronted the Moon Tarot directly. The two battled for an entire week, their clash carving a canyon-like scar into the crust of the Fourth Layer.” Her fists clenched.

“In the end, the Moon Tarot was defeated, and the Revenant killed him. I watched as his body slowly turned to salt and dissolved into nothingness.”

Deimos blinked. “Wait… I thought you and the Revenant were the ones who fought—and that you barely escaped with your life?”

“And that is true,” she said, her eyes gleaming gold, steady and commanding. “I fought the Revenant because I was once the blade the Moon Tarot wielded in battle—the Divine Greatsword, Selene.”

Deimos’ eyes widened.

“After his death, most of his essence was transferred to me. I lay buried in the ground for years, watching as civilization progressed… until something strange began to happen to me.”

She began to run fingers along her skin, feeling its softness.

“I suppose Eirene has a failsafe for her Tarots and their divine weapons, in case one of them should die. I remember feeling his lingering power surge within me, reshaping and contorting my body.”

She paused, “...Before I knew it, my handle had transformed into hands and feet, a torso and a head… while my blade”—her fingers lingered on her hair—“had become this.”

“I became aware, yet lost. With no destination in mind, I wandered through the fields, naked and alone for days, until I came upon a vast, regal fortress—a castle. And I approached it.”

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

“Hey!” A group of guards spotted a bare skinned Selene as she curiously made her way toward the castle gate.

Selene tilted her head, puzzled.

“Hey, who are you?" One guard shouted in response, but she ignored him, studying them with calm, observant eyes before returning her gaze to the gate.

“Don’t ignore me!” the first guard barked, grabbing her arm. “I’m talking to you!”

“Woah, woah, woah—hold on there, big guy,” another guard stepped in front, blocking his assault. “Let’s not rough up such a beautiful lady, yeah?”

The first guard hesitated, his grip loosening, and he released her arm. The second guard turned to Selene with a smirk. “And what might your name be, gorgeous?”

Selene blinked in silence.

“Uh… can she not speak?” a third, calmer guard muttered, eyeing her from head to toe. “Also… she looks filthy.”

The three men circled her. The second guard grew closer, whispering with a slick grin. “Ah, who cares? What are the odds of finding a hot girl like this in the middle of nowhere? I say we take her behind the bushes and have some fun.”

The first guard folded his arms, shaking his head. “How unchivalrous of you.”

The third guard nodded in agreement. “Yeah… seriously, you’re disgusting for even saying that.”

“Oh, whatever,” the second guard snapped. “Don’t pretend you two weren’t thinking the same thing.”

Before the argument could escalate, the castle gates began to creak open. A massive figure emerged—a towering man with a rugged beard, blonde hair, and piercing black eyes.

“C-Commander Leon Bairre Fearadaigh?!” the second guard stammered, collapsing to his knees. The others followed suit, dropping immediately.

The Commander’s gaze swept over the trembling men with cold, unforgiving eyes before finally resting on Selene.