The Mortal And The Wicked-- ONC 2023

Chapter 13; The beginnings to a game

 It was with the aid of Sir Marcus's stolen pocket watch that Lucy watched with bated breath as midnight drew near. The minutes ticking by with an agonizing sluggishness, the moon inching its way across the sky overhead. A pale face peering down at them.

Yet at last both hands on the face of the watch met when the moon rose to the night's peak, Lucy's heart jumping at the sight of it-- her steps pausing as she and the Baron awaited the start of the game.

A moment passed, then another-- a thick silence settling over the crowds like a fog, choking tension prickling the air around them.

"I don't understand." Lucy whispered to the Baron, "How are we supposed to know when the game begins--"

Her question was cut off as a single chime of a bell cut through the air, drawing their attention to the center of the circle of tents; a large circle where every branch of the onyx paths converged into a mosaic, black tiles littered in places with those that were silver to depict a crescent moon.

And there, standing amidst the circle with a silver bell in hand and with his mask of bone pulled down snugly over his features, stood the carnival master.

The wicked grin had not left his lips-- fact that irritated Lucy mildly--and while his general presence was unpleasant, she could not help but listen intently as he spoke, no doubt signaling the start of his own game.

"My lords, ladies, and gentlemen." He began, his voice a series of lilting notes, deep and rich yet still holding to them the taunting manner she had heard back within his tent. "Tonight when the veil between our worlds grows thin we remember the love we once held for those who have long left us. For a love so true may pass beyond the grave, shall it not?" At this, his eyes appeared to snap directly to Lucy within the crowd and though she could have imagined it entirely, his smile seemed to grow a little wider as he continued. "Nevertheless, some of you need not be separated by death when the dawn comes. For tonight is the night in which you may find three keys of great power to open the gates leading to the living world. Tonight you may set your lover free."

The crowds around her writhed in anticipation, murmurs and whispers melding together into a steady drone like rainfall.

"The first key of Life shall bring it once more to the lover you lost. A key of Death shall reverse its own effects. And Time shall bring forth the moments before; as though your lover had never died to begin with. Only then may you pass through the gates." With his eyes remaining on Lucy, the carnival master gave a brief bow before standing upright once more, his tone now more taunting than before. "Now then, children, do play nicely."

With a final ring of the bell he vanished, his body engulfed in a plume of dark smoke in the most dramatic manner possible. Yet though Lucy rolled her eyes at this spectacle, she could not ignore the way in which the smoke lingered, the tendrils swirling into the recognizable shapes of letters that floated down to the mosaic beneath them.

Settling upon the ground, they melted into the colored glass and turned suddenly solid-- letters now etched upon the center of the circle in a golden script.

Immediately the crowd surged forward, craning over one another to see what the words might read, trying to become the first to decipher the clue. And while Lucy stepped forward to join them, she felt a hand rest upon her shoulder and turned to see the Baron shaking his head.

"Wait a moment or two." He said, "I don't want you getting hurt."

"I'm not going to..." She trailed off then as she watched one man tackle another to the ground in an effort to catch a glimpse of the clue, causing a small but rather violent scuffle to break out amidst the crowd.

Punches were thrown, insults traded by men and women alike, and Lucy found herself stepping back as the crowd devolved into pandemonium.

Nevertheless, as the riddle was read and the crowds sprinted off into the carnival in pairs, she found herself inching forward once more, the words now coming almost fully into view. And through the tangle of bodies that still remained, she caught sight of the clue; a riddle whose vague and unsettling words sent a shudder up her spine.

Beneath the eyes of the Crow

The dead may walk

And the living may bring

A key to life, to death, to everything

And when at last they have their wish

To the Crow they're bound under Death's kiss

The heart of Life is in the dead's dreams

Time remains in steps unseen

And in the darkest reign of the Thorn

Death will wait forever more

All this she read aloud to the Baron, and when at last the riddle ended she glanced at his pinched expression, his brows furrowed in thought.

"I do believe we have our clue," he said.

"I should think that was obvious."

"Yes, uh, though what does any of it mean?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Lucy replied, glancing once more at the pocket watch, the hands counting down the hours till dawn. Towards the end of the game. "But we had better figure it out quickly."

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