XXII - The High Priestess 1

And there I sat, dressed in a simple outfit: a crisp sleeve white crop top paired with oversized flared black trousers.

My feet shuffled into black tabi-toe sandals, the comfort of white socks providing a subtle match with the crop top, and finally a black overcoat.

But the outfit lacked that final touch, that flair to make it truly mine.

So, I wore some golden trinkets: golden earrings glinting, rings shimmering on my fingers, and an ankh pendant resting against my chest.

As I laid on the couch, anticipation flowed through my veins.

Psyche would probably be here soon, drawn by the fact that I opened her portal.

But wait wait wait—I'd forgotten to conceal the blood.

Two bottles of blood would definitely bring suspicion and questions I don't wanna answer.

A quick thought, and they transformed into attracting crimson roses, and then I nestled them in a vase.

Perfect camouflage, just as planned.

After a few raps on the door, I peeked through the Judas hole to find Psyche and Lucky Blaze waiting on the other side.

With a smile, I swung the door open, greeting them warmly. "Well, Lucky Blaze, fancy seeing you here. Honored you took the time to read the note and grace me with your presence."

Lucky's response came with a casual drawl, "Howdy, Diablo. Honor's all mine."

I shook my head, chuckling. "Easy there, no need for the devil talk. Though I must admit, it's got a certain ring to it. Look, about what went down before... I had to play the bad guy, give you a little scare.

Never had any intention of doing you harm. And as for your partner in crime, well, he crossed a line there was no coming back from.

Judgment had to be passed.

Call me Eros, from now on."

Lucky then grinned, "You sure pulled a fast one on me, no denying that.

But what I'm itching to know is how you managed to best Kichil Anakin."

I returned his grin, motioning for him to take a seat. "First things first, let's all relax and have some coffee. You can sip on that while I spill the beans on how I took down your Night Soldier.

Now that we're all settled in, Kichil's defeat came down to a simple revelation: his power leads you to your own dream realm, not his.

That means you're the one in control, not him.

Pretty straightforward, really.

Now, tell me, Lucky, Psyche. Any luck recruiting this week? Run into any rogue contract holders? I'm all ears."

Psyche fixed her gaze on me, her voice low and contemplative. "I crossed paths with one of them, a peaceful enigma," she began. "A man named Yves Saint-Germain, bearer of The Fool's card.

He's a wild card, claimed to be a free spirit, drifting wherever his whims take him.

Yet, he expressed a curiosity about meeting our leader, you.

Perhaps you can sway him."

She paused, uncertainty clear in her eyes. "As for his ability, he calls it 'Gargoyles of Notre Dame'. What it entails, I can't say.

But he's cryptic about it, claiming to be quantum immortal.

And then there's Lucky," she continued, "Managed to rope in a contract holder himself, a woman bearing the High Priestess card."

Hmmm, so this guy's spouting some wild claims about quantum immortality, like he's some kind of unkillable being, dodging death at every turn.

Quantum immortality, it's like impenetrable armor, keeping anyone fresh and ageless while the rest of us clock in our years.

Fits the fool card's vibe, all about reckless starts and new beginnings.

Claims he's neutral huh, but I'm itching to sit down with him, pick his brain if you know what I mean.

Maybe I can sway him over to our side, join our little rebellion.

Having a power like that on our team? That's like holding a royal flush in a poker game.

If he's not game, though, I'll let him be. But mark my words, I'll be ready if he decides to stir up trouble.

"Alright, folks, gather round and let me spin you a yarn about the High Priestess," Lucky drawled, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

"Lavinia Charleston's her name, and she's got a knack for what she calls 'Six-mile Wayfarer'," he continued, leaning in closer to the group. "Now, how I stumbled upon her is a story worth tellin'. You see, I followed a peculiar trail of bodies—no balls attached, if you catch my drift."

"Lavinia, she's a real sly one. She lures in men, seduces 'em with her charms, and then hits 'em with her ability. She paints 'em a pretty picture, makes 'em think they're indulging in all sorts of naughty deeds. But here's the kicker—while they're lost in their fantasies, their minds are rotting away from the inside out, like a piece of rotten wood."

"And just when they think they're about to meet their maker, she reels 'em in like fish on a line. They wake up, trapped and helpless, like a fly in a spider's web. And you know what she does next?" Lucky paused for dramatic effect, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of horror and fascination.

"She snips 'em off, quick as a snake's strike, collects 'em like trophies, their balls I mean." he concluded, a shiver running down his spine at the thought.

"She collected them like hunter-gatherer trophies from the wild.

Now, I've seen my fair share of strange sights. But when I stumbled upon her, she had a different kind of allure.

Not my usual type, mind you.

Love me some rough-and-tumble charm of country gals.

So when she tried to work her charms on me, I declined politely like the gentleman I am.

But she was persistent, offering up drinks at her Six Mile Wayfarer, an illusion of an inn only visible to the prey.

And me?

Well shit, Lucky never' been one to turn down some ol' good whiskey.

So I accepted her offer and found myself seated at her table. That's when my instincts kicked in, my senses honed by years in the wild.

Something wasn't right, something trying to worm its way into my head from my ear and my Gunners felt it.

Well, y'all know my ability's like an autopilot shooter, ready to fire at anything dangerous that comes too close to my hide. I can steer it true if need be, but if there's danger I ain't spotted, my gunners take aim and blast it to smithereens.

So when one of her Seven Devils tried to sneak up on me, my sharpshooters put it down quick.

Told her she couldn't touch me with my ability, then took a swig of whiskey to wash the dust away.

Little did I know, one of em' sneaky devils had hitched a ride in my drink. Took a sip, and next thing I knew, that devil was stirrin' up a whole mess of trouble in my noggin'.

Showin' me visions of what I'd like to do to Lavinia.

Seems like most fellas just see her as a prize to be won, reckon she thought I was just another one playing hard to get.

But when the curtain's lifted, she'll see I ain't about that game.

No, what I aim to do is share a drink, maybe deal some cards, and find some folks with the same knack as me.

And above all, have ourselves a good ol' time.

She'll come to see that Lucky may be a player, but he ain't one to harm a lady.

A true cowboy's got manners, after all.

Never lay a hand on a lady, that's the code.

So she shut down her demons and laid bare her past, spillin' her tale of darkness and pain.

Talked 'bout how she aimed to make every man pay who dared to cross that line.

Then I let her in on the Church of Truth, spillin' my thoughts 'bout reachin' for heaven.

She nodded, eager to join up and meet the rest of the crew.

Shoulda been here sooner, but reckon she'll show when she's ready.

We'll bide our time 'til she does."