Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Sun Festival

“Hey—” A vortex of smoke spiraled into existence as Amelia reappeared. “I forgot to ask your size, but—see if these fi—”

She froze. Deimos was on the floor, coughing violently.

“Hey! Are you okay?” She rushed over, eyes wide.

“There were… Macabre… waiting by the barrier,” he wheezed.

Amelia’s face darkened. “Macabre? That’s—”

Deimos collapsed into her arms, his irises glowing faintly pink.

She glanced at the clothes in her hand, then at his shivering form. “Forget it—just put them on inside.”

Smoke swallowed them both.

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They landed in a dim hospital room—tile floors, antique furniture, and wallpaper that didn’t match anything.

Amelia dropped Deimos onto the bed.

“Amelia?!” a blonde girl shouted from across the room, nearly spilling her plate. “What are you doing here? And who the hell is that?!”

“This young man is injured. He needs treatment.”

“Uh—hello? I’m on break,” the girl muttered, popping a fry into her mouth.

“Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Fine.” She walked over, touching Deimos’ neck.

The door creaked. “Elizabeth? I wanted to show you the new—”

“Not now, Birgitta,” Elizabeth snapped.

Birgitta stepped in anyway. “Ms. Amelia,” she greeted with a smile. Her eyes landed on Deimos. “Is this your friend?”

“Found him near the barrier. Says he was attacked by the Macabre.”

Elizabeth blinked. “Wait, what? And he’s still breathing?”

“That’s strange—I thought the barrier repelled monsters. Why would they be near it?” Birgitta said.

“To add to that, we’re on the fourth layer,” Amelia muttered. “Far from the Pit. Macabre being here is almost impossible. Which makes me feel this wasn’t random. He was targeted.”

Silence.

“Well, he looks fine to me,” Elizabeth said. “Just dirty.”

“You barely checked!” Birgitta snapped. “Look at his eyes—he looks cursed.”

Elizabeth waved her off. “Then that sounds like your problem, Dr. Birgitta. I only handle physical conditions. Issues with the soul are your thing. If you think it’s a curse, just check his Core.”

Birgitta rolled her eyes.

“Use that Soul Diagnostic thing you’ve been working on,” Elizabeth added, already sitting back down.

Deimos groaned, slowly sitting up. The pink faded from his eyes.

“You’re awake,” Amelia said gently.

“Where… am I?”

“Dol Marne’s finest hospital, baby,” Elizabeth chimed in.

“Rest here for now,” Amelia said, placing clothes on the nightstand. “I truly apologize for the trouble. But I hope to see you at the festival tonight, Mr…?”

“Deimos.”

Amelia smiled. “Right. Birgitta—”

“What?” she asked.

Deimos blinked. Birgitta…? That name...

“Keep an eye on him,” Amelia said. “I’m going to patrol the barrier some more to make sure it’s safe to escort Princess Elvira into town.”

“Yeah. Got it,” Birgitta nodded.

“And I assume you’re paying for this ‘charity case’?” Elizabeth asked.

A pouch of gold thudded onto her desk.

Her eyes lit up. “Generosity accepted.”

Amelia smiled faintly. “Take care,” she said, shutting the door behind her.

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Silence.

Elizabeth jiggled the coin pouch like a child.

Why didn’t my lance appear when I called for it…? Deimos stared at his palm.

“You,” Birgitta said, suddenly inches from him.

He flinched.

“Where are you from?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. He stared back at her, something strange and familiar stirring in the back of his mind.

“...Why are you looking at me like that?”

“S-sorry,” he stammered. “I just… feel like I’ve heard of you before.”

“Uh-huh.” Birgitta raised a brow. “Well, I am one of the most well-known Soul Weavers in this region.”

“Yeah—because you’re one of the only known Soul Weavers in this region,” Elizabeth snorted.

Birgitta grabbed a broom and chucked it. Elizabeth ducked.

Deimos blinked at the chaos.

Then—a faint hum. He turned to the window.

Was that… my lance…?

Birgitta clapped her hands. “Anyway! Are you a tourist or something?”

Deimos shook his head. “No. I was summoned by the goddess.”

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Elizabeth perked up. “Woah—wait, like… a Tarot?”

He nodded. “I’m the Tarot of the Sun. Deimos.”

Silence.

Birgitta frowned. “Wait… I thought the Sun Tarot was a myth.”

“It is,” Elizabeth muttered. “That’s why they throw this dumb festival every year—to celebrate some bullshit ‘22nd’ Tarot they made up.”

“This guy’s obviously just a fanboy.” She folded her arms.

Deimos chuckled. “No, really, I was awakened by the goddess Eirene.”

Birgitta rubbed her neck. Elizabeth groaned.

“Uh—did you hit your head?” Elizabeth said. “There’s no goddess Eirene.”

Deimos blinked. “H-huh?”

“There’s only the world tree Irelya, the goddess Eris,” Birgitta said, “and the goddess Lirael.”

“That’s… impossible.”

Lirael’s a goddess? And Eirene’s been… forgotten?

“Maybe you got the names wrong?” Birgitta offered.

Deimos stood suddenly, grabbing the clothes off the nightstand.

“Wait—what are you—?!” Birgitta stepped back as he began changing.

“Agh—seriously? I’m eating,” Elizabeth groaned, hand over her eyes.

Deimos dressed quickly. Birgitta stood frozen.

He turned for the door.

“W-wait!” Birgitta called.

Too late. He was gone.

She sighed, then looked at Elizabeth.

“That was weird, right?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Wasn’t that different from the rest of our shifts.”

“…What if he really was a Tarot?” Birgitta muttered.

They sat in silence.

“I’m going to find him,” she said.

Elizabeth raised a thumb.

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Deimos rushed into the hallway and descended the narrow staircase of the small hospital.

“I don’t get it—was the princess always a goddess?” he muttered as he neared the exit. He burst through the doors and stepped into a bustling street.

The roads were paved with beautiful stone, and the sidewalks matched. The buildings had a medieval design, yet they were fashionably constructed in black, many adorned with colorful festival decorations.

The sky above was ominously gray, threatening rain, yet no one seemed to mind. The street buzzed with conversation and laughter, the excitement of the festival washing away any concern.

And why does the Princess need saving? he wondered. If she’s a god, then what would she need me, an instrument—to save her from? So then—

“What purpose do I have?” he whispered aloud.

A strange sense of déjà vu crept over him as the faint humming from earlier returned, slowly drowning out the street noise and his racing thoughts.

Drawn to the sound, Deimos began walking down the sidewalk. The city around him was full of life, yet the palette of dark colors gave it an eerie contrast—especially compared to the world outside the barrier. Still, there was an undeniable beauty to it.

The humming grew louder in his ears as he navigated the streets.

“Maybe I’m overthinking this,” he murmured. “The goddess’ judgment is never wrong. She awakened me for a reason.”

But… does she even exist? he mused, thinking back to Birgitta and Elizabeth’s words.

His fists clenched, one hand clutching his shirt in denial.

“No,” he said firmly. “Eirene exists. I’m sure of it. That’s the only thing I am sure of. I can feel her presence inside me. She’s here. I know it.”

“Pretty…”

A small voice tugged at him. A little girl was holding onto his shirt.

“Mommy, look! His hair is white like snow.”

Deimos stared down at her, offering a soft smile. But before he could respond, her mother hurried over, casting him a wary glance.

“Sweetie, it’s rude to touch strangers,” she said, scooping the girl up and quickly walking away.

As they left, Deimos noticed the shirts they wore—gray, with the words Hawthorn Annual Sun Festival printed across them.

A graphic of a tall woman with long hair and many hands was emblazoned on the front. She resembled Eirene in nearly every way—except for the color scheme.

At the bottom, in an overly elegant font, was the name Lirael.

“These people, do they not remember the goddess?” Deimos muttered. “Do they think Lirael is their deity?”

The questions swirled in his mind—until he saw it.

Being loaded onto a cart from an antique shop was Helios.

It had been freshly polished, gleaming a pristine industrial white, though a few small cracks ran along its cone-shaped body.

“I knew it,” Deimos breathed. “My lance didn’t manifest because it never vanished… It’s been here this whole time, waiting for me—since the last time I awakened.”

He stepped toward the cart—

—but it was already pulling away, Helios strapped to the back.

“Hey—wait!” Deimos shouted, chasing after the cart. “Excuse me—”

A voice called from behind him.

He turned to see Birgitta standing there, her dark brown hair swaying gently in the breeze, her soft orchid eyes filled with concern.

“Deimos, right? Are you feeling okay? Macabre attacks are nothing to brush off,” she mentioned. “Ms. Amelia told us to keep an eye on you, and... well, the way you’re acting—it’s a little alarming.”

She stepped closer and extended a hand. “Would you mind coming back to the building with me? I’d like to run a few scans on your Core, just to make sure everything’s alright.”

“No, I’m fine. Really, I just…”

His eyes followed the cart as it rolled slowly down the street, disappearing into the growing crowd. The soft hum it emitted faded into the distance.

“That lance—where are they taking it?” Deimos asked.

“Lance? Oh, you mean the white one that looks like a cone? I think they’re using it in the play at the festival tonight,” Birgitta replied. “Which is weird, because I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of super old relic—like older than the entire kingdom of Dol Marne.”

They’re going to use my lance for a… play? Humans truly are strange.

“That weapon is mine. I’m going to retrieve it,” Deimos declared, turning sharply and striding away.

“Huh?” Before Birgitta could form a full thought, Deimos was already down the street, chasing after the cart.

“God damn it,” she cursed, hurrying after him.

Deimos weaved through the crowd with startling speed. Amelia stumbled behind, struggling to keep up.

How is he so fast? she thought, brushing past people as she tried to stay on his trail.

As the carriage came into view, Deimos extended a hand toward it.

“Helios, to me!” he called out.

The lance shimmered faintly, a silver glow seeping through the wraps binding it to the cart.

I’m not close enough.

The carriage suddenly veered sharply to the right.

Deimos slammed his foot into the ground, cracking the pavement. A few pedestrians turned, startled—just in time to see him leap into the air. He landed atop a lamppost and began bounding from post to post, chasing the carriage from above.

Amelia stared, stunned, watching as he and the carriage disappeared down a side alley.

“…Maybe he's fine after all.” she murmured.

Then she shook her head.

“No, Amelia told us to keep an eye on him. That’s the least we can do.” She jogged after him.

“Especially after she gave us so much money…”

Reaching the alleyway, she slowed to a cautious walk. The scent of damp stone and musk hung in the air, making her uneasy for reasons she couldn’t explain.

“Uh… Mr. Deimos?” she called.

Her voice echoed against the walls.

She moved to turn a corner—

“Are you he—”

Before she could finish, Deimos pulled her back. His hand covered her mouth. He raised a finger to his lips: quiet.

His eyes glowed silver as he peered into the alley.

There was the carriage—and three figures surrounding it.

“All right,” one man said, “so you’re telling me the Sun Tarot was a real thing, and this was actually his weapon?”

A tall hooded woman with immense black horns stepped forward. Her voice was deep, commanding.

“Not was. Is,” she said. “He’s awakened—and he’s here, in Hawthorn.”

Birgitta’s eyes widened. She glanced up at Deimos, who stared ahead with a tense, unreadable expression.

“Just our luck, huh?” said a second man, calmer and more composed. “We’re already dealing with that prince and the princess’ cocky general, and now you’re saying there’s another Tarot?”

That woman… Deimos thought. I can feel it from here—that raw, primal, arkhaic energy.

She’s a dragon.

Helios hummed louder than ever—almost as if it were calling to him, not the other way around.

The hooded woman remained unfazed.

“The plan continues as scheduled. Move the lance to Central Square and prepare for tonight. Await further instructions.”

“If the situation turns… problematic—” she added, pulling out two vials filled with dark red liquid.

“Oh no, not again,” the first man groaned.

“Drink these,” she handed them over. Then, without another word, vanished—disappearing into thin air.

The first man sighed.

“I swear, this better not go sideways, because I am not drinking dragon blood again.”

“Play your part, and we won’t have to,” the second replied as they climbed back onto the carriage and rode off.

Helios’ hum faded with the cart as it disappeared into the city.

So that’s why Helios has been making noise… Deimos realized. It sensed her danger long before I did, and it was calling for me to take action, but—

–If I’d confronted her at that moment, even with Helios at my side… I would have lost.

He grit his teeth and released Birgitta, stepping forward.

"Even so," he muttered, his fists clenched, "The only way to prove the goddess Eirene's existence is by fulfilling the purpose she awakened me for—protecting humanity.”

He stepped into the shadows, where the carriage had vanished.

“Whatever that woman’s planning, she has to be stopped.”

His irises glowed silver as he followed the distant hum of his lance, faint yet unmistakable.

"That, I am sure of."