1 A lord’s end (prologue 1)

As he walked amongst the dying world he once protected, he remembered the many adventures he had in his youth.

When he woke up eons ago from above the door in his castle. For so long he stood next to the others close to his position.

They were not friends for the most part, more like coworkers on a more cosmic scale. They who sought to protect a world till it's final breath of life, were gone. They who stood watch as more and more from the outside fell to their might. The great old ones.

Not the originals for the most part. Only one could claim that do a degree. a stray thought as he walked and tapped his cane in the rubble of society's achievements and folly. The mundane humans of their world sought the stars beyond. The former visionary now god almighty, joined their quest to find a new home with their remnants. The rest, they sought their end in peace. of course, after years upon years of war tore them apart in the first place.

As he walked, the sound of his cane tapping in tune, he came upon a statue. One of the only things in this city not broken down. The humans so advanced with skyscrapers all around. But in this little park in the center of it all, a stone statue of a girl, a smile adorned on her face. She carried an open umbrella and by her side a dog. She was once one of his greatest allies he could hope for. With a wave of his hand the dust disappeared from the statue, as if it never existed before. With a step he was gone from the foot of the statue.

With the tapping of his cane he arrived at his next destination. A college rebuilt time and time again for his mentor to once again teach. Broken and dilapidated it stands now with no one to walk their halls.

It was always their little joke after he woke up from his slumber thanks to the reckless hunter and his fellow tarot cards, that he would find his final resting place in its library rereading the many stories in its halls. Many a times he was tempted to not see the end, to give up already. After so much loss he steeled himself to be the final vigil. To see what they fought for.

He remembers his final confrontation with the angel of time. Little bastard he was, came back with new friends right on his tail from his little walk amongst the cosmos. His cane turned into a revolver just once more for him. He "took" with the gloves on his hands, everything from him. He lost much that day; friends, family, and followers. Amon's "prank" cost him to become that which he never was, human. Forced to watch as he grew old and could steal no longer. Amon died with his father watching over him. Many a time he wished to intervene but he would not stop the revenge of the Lord this time.

The lord kept walking amongst the walls of the building, daylight slipping in through the glass panes. With another tap of his cane he was gone. Silence returned in his wake.

He stands now in front of an old house. Far to dated compared to the rest of the world. But here another tarot card stayed. Old an knowledgeable he was. A constant vigilance among the seas, a calamity for his enemies, a friendly breeze for his friends. So little time he walked among them compared to the rest. He retired here for till his final days. His children took up his watch in his place. The Lord still remembered his nephews as they called themselves. Still in awe of his adventurer days as a bogey man to pirates. He slid his hand across the door of the place fixing it up slightly as was his wish. He stepped once more and a tap of his cane he was away.

His steps echoed of hallow wood on the deck. A testement to its make to still be anchored here. The old ship a beautiful dream in its heyday. A mystic wonder of its owner's delight. The many who would make merry on its deck and halls, it sits now in silence amongst the still waters.

The Lord looked to the sky, a broken moon in sight. A necessity he committed himself. To end a threat once an for all. But such came at a cost of the captain's mother. The queen who turned fairy tale to reality. Such was her right when she took the mantle of Reader. She with her father who took revenge for their misgivings so long ago. The Lord watched as they went on their path with hope they would succeed. I'm the end he was the one to deal the final blow. The daughter left behind throwing a ball of yarn from her ship she saw her one last time before they rested. The Lord stepped once more away, almost as if escaping.

The Lord visited many places in his travels. No words spoken for there were none to hear them. He who held the final watch as the others eternally slumbered or were simply gone. Many a time he almost let out his voice. A slight frown on his face at times. A reminiscing smile other times. To the many who knew of him they called him a god. An honorific name he still could be called to this day.

"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;

The Mysterious Ruler above the gray fog;

The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."

A reminder of who he was and always was destined to become. The story of his trials and tribulations. The story of a fool. He walks this broken world now as a Lord, past the fool, he was with his authorities trained to their limits. He walks tired, supported by his cane. The badge of his authority of the [DOOR]. The gloves on his hands the badge of the [ERROR]. A top hat not in style for thousands of years a symbol of his authority of the [FOOL]. As he steps once more the tapping of his cane on marble echoes. Mist snakes around the Lord as he walks. He watches how a long table wills itself into existence. Many high backed chairs lined the sides. He slowly walked and seated himself at its end. The first card of the deck. At the end of the table a figure seats himself at the table. A voice not heard in many, many years rings out. "So the deck ends with the world."

The voice of The World echoes within the misty atmosphere. The Fool leans back in his chair, taking off his hat as he does so setting it on the table in front of him. He slowly removes the gloves from his hands setting them next to the hat. Finally he sets the cane next to the hat on its left side. He raised his right hand with a twirl the objects rise to the air almost dancing. "Many times when we were young we thought we were in another world. So many fantastic ideas that we moved through another universe." The cane shown brightly changing its shape becoming an unassuming small flat jeweled pin, deep blue in color. The gloves unraveling in light into strips of worn cloth deep red in color. The cloth wove around the base of the brim of the hat. The pin adorned itself on its left side.

The Worlds voice rang once more, "So our friend here will choose?" The lord's voice not but a silent whisper, "There will be no choice, but a random chance. With my authorities, with my powers, with my life, and with my existence. I sever your fate." An orb with wriggling tentacles crept from the lords chest. The hat came down to meet it. "And what of the Sefriah?" His attendent asked. "Whoever it chances upon will not need it. There isn't much left of it anyways. But a seed shall take its place. They need not become a new lord after all. The universe is vast after all, and they won't be limited by one." The time worn hat captured the wriggling orb. A new shine adorned it as if it was brand new.

The hat floated to its former owner slowly, a shake rumbles through the castle. A man aged by time sits upon the throne one final time. A raised arm catches the brim of the hat. The voice soft with time worn vocal chords "Old friend, you carry with you none of my will only your own thoughts. I would not have my successor be tormented by madness as we all were. No more will the path of mysteries be overshadowed by me or anyone else. With the last of my strength and the strength of the Sefirah you will be cast from this place. Find a new host and my I dare say, have fun for all those who once graced these halls."

The mist from below bellowed out into spears and collided above the table ripping a hole with the last of his strength. The hat always a little on the cheeky side with one of its looser cloth straps, saluted, as it was dragged into the hole. A small chuckle escaped the Lords mouth and a smile adorned his face as he sat back. The castle on its last legs crumbled around him. Never a speck touched him though. The castles respect for its master evident.

"A new story to tell, how my little club would love to hear it."