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Three chips are sufficient…it’s all or nothing.
-
A flick of a hand. (Queen of Spades; a sign of intelligence, of someone who makes her plans ahead of time)
“Do you know about the rule of three, doctor?”
Sharp eyes met beautiful yet dead looking eyes. “ Omne trium perfectum. It is believed that everything that comes in threes is the epitome of perfection.”
A snap of a finger, materializing four other cards. “Yes, yes. The doctor truly knows all. What more do you know about it?”
One card is flipped open. (Ten of Spades; bestowed protection to be successful in anything)
“It is said that it originated from some folk belief that has been lost to history. It is now mostly used in literary writing and other forms of art. What’s with the sudden interest? Are you planning to shift jobs, dear gambler?”
Another card flipped. (Jack of Spades; eleven, the most priceless gift of God)
The last 2 cards were pushed towards the laurel crowned man by his companion, silently urging him to open it himself.
A derisive scoff.
“Humor me.” A sly, pretty smile. (He prays for a good deal.)
(Three of spades; important decisions to be made with work and life purpose. Five of spades; loyalty and love to the deepest core.)
“Oh. A flush.” The blonde man chuckled lightly at the cards on the other’s hand. “Lucky~ Well, it’s best I go now and meet our new friends – or rather, my new friends since you already went ahead and scoped them out before without telling me.”
Narrowed eyes. “It’s not as if you tell me your plans either.”
“Touche.”
“Are you not getting your cards back?”
A pause; a considering glance; a cryptic look.
“ Three and five in your hands look interesting, doctor. See ya~”
-
(He doesn’t say it to anyone, but he thinks he recalls a celestial being looking down at him with an unholy smile on her face. Her face ethereal, her multiple eyes colorful, her teeth jagged.
‘Be not afraid’, she croons.
He is an obedient child. He prays to her. He is not afraid.)
-
Warmth.
“Hello, little thing inside.”
Tap.
A light chuckle.
“Oh, darling. Let’s not call our future youngest as a ‘thing’, alright?”
Tap.
“I know our child will be blessed, so I have to make sure I deliver our offerings to our goddess.”
“Be careful now. Those Katicans are ruthless.”
Tap.
“I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll see you soon little one.”
(Three gentle taps, from where he was cocooned inside his mother, ended up as everything he knew about his father.)
-
“May the goddess Gaiathra close her eyes three times.”
Keep your blood eternally pulsing.
Let your journey be forever peaceful,
and your schemes forever concealed .”
(A threefold prayer to their Mother Goddess, as he and his sister clutch each other shivering from the merciless cold of their home, ended up as his only memory of his mother.)
-
His father’s shirt.
His mother’s lucky charm.
His sister’s words – “Your good luck is the most precious wealth we - all Avgin have…can lead the clan into happiness. So always remember to protect yourself and never resent the pain and poverty you’re going through.”
-
Three chips are sufficient…it’s all or nothing.
-
In the middle of them doing the rites to their Mother Goddess, he looks at his sister in awe . (She snarls.)
“Now, now. Focus your prayers to Mama Fenge, Kakavasha.” They laugh together.
Another day where food is scarce is so normal that he just yawns through it. He steps outside of their home and sees his sister sweating under the unforgiving sun. He jogs over and offers the bread she gave him last night. (She rises.)
“You’re sharing with me, Kakavasha? You really are not only the luckiest, but also the sweetest.” They eat together.
He embarks a crusade to get back his sister’s necklace and returns triumphant. (She strikes.)
“We will reunite in Kakava’s next aurora.” He ran by himself.
-
(He doesn’t say it, not even to himself, but he thinks he signed her death. The celestial being looks at him with an unholy smile on her face, as if agreeing. He doesn’t know what to do or feel.
‘Be not afraid’, the being croons.
He is an obedient child. He prays to her. He is not afraid.
The being blinks.
Rain poured, blood spilled, and tears fell.
The being laughs.)
-
When he stabbed the Katican to free himself, he wonders. When he ran away without looking back to where freedom supposedly was, he wonders. When he is branded - ‘Thirty five is a pretty one, eh.” - and tried to bargain to be freed, he wonders.
“Thirty tanbas for a little brat is a good deal, wouldn’t you agree?” The man laughs in a familiar manner. “Now why don’t you get on your knees and get to it or your fellow slaves will get it.”
And so he kneels . (She snarls.)
“If anything, you should be thanking me for giving a filthy Avgin like you some worth.”
His hands are clasped together in chains. (She rises.)
“Tell you what, let’s make this – ah, your mouth – let’s make this even more interesting. Do you think the slaves you’ve been trying to protect will extend the same courtesy to you? How about you play a game with them tomorrow?”
He tries communicating with his eyes and begs the man for mercy. (She strikes.)
When he attacked Number Five (she had light hair and gave him bread once) to free himself, he wonders. When he reached the end of the maze covered in blood except his eyes, he wonders. When he wrapped his chains around his owner and watched him struggle until finally going limp, he wonders.
(Is this what it feels like to be a sinner?)
-
[“Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest — thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated.” ; Beau Taplin]
-
(He doesn’t say it to anyone, not that he has anyone to talk to, but the mouth of those men on his neck and the prayers from his throat felt like a guillotine coming down. The celestial being looks at him with an unholy smile on her face, as if amused by his thoughts.
‘I am not like them. Be not afraid’, she croons. He is an obedient child. He prays to her. He is not afraid.
The being blinks for the second time.
‘You are my chosen one, child. You are my beloved. You belong to me.’
The being returns to her throne, satisfied.)
-
This is the moment he is reborn (he laughs, he laughs, and he laughs).
He stands under the bloody rain; starts crawling on the unforgiving sand; and descending into that slippery mud. He lets filth take the brightness of his eyes. He lets the filth eat his body and soul. And he lets the filth stay within him. ‘I have made you into my image and likeness, my beloved’ she whispers.
This is the moment he is reborn (he cries, he cries, and he cries).
(This is the last time he allows his tears to meet the air of his losses, his failures, his sins. Later, much, much later, he will kneel , he will pray , he will prostrate himself, just to beg for the mercy of death. But now…now, he weeps and he stands on the shaky ground and equally shaky will to live.)
-
“The IPC will give you everything you want, even what you don’t want.”
He wants his family; he wants to be worthy of his name; he wants to rest.
“Pick the clothes you like, then choose your desired identity…and use them well, child.”
He doesn’t want to wrap greed with words like justice, righteousness, preservation. He doesn’t want to go down to business armed only with his smile, his wit, and his body. He doesn’t want to endanger anyone else from the hammer of Qlipoth, the chaos of the Tavern, and the Goddess who has claimed him.
“May your plans never suffer failure.”
He wants death, but they named him Aventurine instead.
-
He lets the rain wash all the blood (he still sees Number Five’s last moment); he trudges the dirt of the Earth (not as dirty as the sinner in him); he makes a fool of the men in black and whatever guilds they’re from (he knows he is the biggest fool of them all).
Is this what if feels like to be a sinner?
“Did you know?” Jade asks as she runs her hand on his hair on one of the rare times they have down time. “Emanators supposedly mold themselves after the path they’ve chosen.”
“Why anyone would choose to follow certain Aeons is beyond me,” commented Topaz.
“Would you choose another one then?” came the teasing voice of Opal.
Jade ignored the bickering that has started and looked down at the one on her lap. “You never did tell me why you chose Qlipoth over Aha. With the Fools, you might have had more freedom…not like here where we tell you what to do regardless of the consequences to others.”
Is this what if feels like to be a sinner?
He watches in the sideline as another planet is put under IPC’s care; he hears the cries of anguish as separation between loved ones occur; he thinks he sees himself for a moment back to being a prey.
A choice, huh.
Is this what it feels like to be a sinner?
-
The Masked Fool sits beside him in the bar as he waited for his target. “You should have chosen us. Your whole self clearly lives for the excitement of the chaos. Aha himself even peeked at you.”
He doesn’t tell her that his snarling goddess had Aha laughing to the point of backing off due to interest and eagerness to see where this would lead.
“Hello to you too. Does our dear professor know you’re using his face?”
He remembers the frustration of the doctor when he realized that Nous did not look at him, and got the gaze of the Intelligentsia Guild instead. He wants to shake him and scream how fortunate he was that he was given a choice.
“Honestly though – what do you even have in common with the Preservation?”
He unconsciously drags his fingers to where his Cornerstone is. He is lost. And all he knows right now is that he’s trying to protect the life his family loved. He wants to die, but he can’t. He wants to meet them, but how would they feel if they knew he discarded what they all viewed was a blessing?
"Meh, you don't even know what you want, do you? Hahaha You're so boring and amusing!"
Qlipoth did not turn him away despite the screams of his goddess. Maybe that’s what it means to be alive.
(Later on, much, much later – he realizes he’s never been more wrong and right at the same time.)
-
He tugs Jade’s sleeve and confesses . (She snarls.)
“Would a chosen-one be gifted with a choice too?”
“Is Aventurine still the chosen-one, or was it the name that was buried in the sands?”
He speaks to Topaz before they step forward to the mass . (She rises.)
“What role do sinners play in the grand scheme of things?
“Be unapologetic. There is nothing to forgive.”
He looks up at the raining sky and prays to her. (She settles down.)
-
When he sees the fatal wound on Penacony’s number one celebrity, he stills. His right hand reaches out to check for pulse as his left hand trembles in fear. He didn’t think the opportunity would be delivered to him in a silver platter just like this. How lucky, how fortunate, how disturbing.
He strikes a deal with the Memokeeper of the Garden of Recollection and gives her rumors for plans, a heads up for lies, and confidence for his uncertainties.
He beckons for the doctor and gives him questions for answers, facades for truths, and the beginning for the end.
He invites the Nameless and gives them a problem for a solution, a misdirection for a hint, and a veiled threat for sincerity.
The stage for his final performance is set. (She laughs, she laughs, and she laughs. She thinks he thinks everything will go his way. She molded him into her image and likeness, she chose him, she will not free him.) Beyond the mountains where sister pointed him to was not freedom. But perhaps at the back of this grandiose stage is.
-
His colleagues losing their hearts in exchange for a Stoneheart like he lost his. (Jade kisses her stone for good luck, Topaz flicks her stone with trust, and they part ways.)
He meets Sunday, and almost falters. He is a control freak, a Harmony fanatic, and he’s also someone who just lost his sister. (People call him authoritarian, and he agrees. But he also knows Sunday is a brother first and foremost, and thinks he understands.)
He goads the emanator that should not exist, the one who lost herself after losing everything in the rain like he lost his. (Later, much, much later, she’d slash him down and it is the biggest mercy he’s ever received.)
-
Three chips are sufficient…it’s all or nothing.
-
(He doesn’t say it to anyone, not even to the young Kakavasha who held on to his hat. He bids the emanator farewell, holds on to the memory of their stones, and to the gift on his pocket. The celestial being looks at him with an unholy smile on her face, but he knows she is anything but happy with him right now.
‘Be not afraid’, she croons. He is an obedient child. He prays to her. He is not afraid.
The being blinks for the third time.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
He is an obedient child. He prays to her. He is not afraid.
No, he is not afraid… he is terrified .)