Chapter 4:

Yurat was scared, very scared.  His mind trembled at the being before him.

A cloaked figure asked him question after question, compelling him to answer through unknown means.  Secret after secret were stolen from his tongue.  He had betrayed the king enough times at this point that he wanted to hang himself.

“Enough!” he begged the figure, “What more do you want to know?!”

The figure frowned and walked towards the window of the building, looked at the sky, and sighed.

“I suppose I’ve asked you plenty.”

Yurat despised her voice.  The robed figure wore the appearance of a young girl, but he was certain she was a demon in disguise.  No ordinary mortal could possess as much power as she did.

His hands and feet were currently bound.  He wasn’t sure why she bothered.  She had already ordered him not to harm her in any way.  He crinkled his eyebrows.  Something was going on here.

The girl left the room temporarily, leaving Yurat alone.  All of a sudden, he felt the compulsion she placed on him break.  He was no longer under her control!

He sprang into action, struggling against the rope that had been used to tie him up.  The girl had taken away his wand, leaving him unable to use any of his magic.  Luckily, he had been trained for situations like this.  After a few minutes he sprung free and retrieved a dagger he had hidden in a sheath on thigh.

He dashed towards the window and looked down.  He was on the third floor of the mansion.  There would be no way down from here.  Frowning, he heard slow, unhurried footsteps approaching.  He took a deep breath.  He would have to silence her before she had the opportunity to speak.

He grabbed the dagger by the tip and pulled back his arm, prepared to throw.  He slowly waited for the door to open.

It burst open with a loud bang.  With a whoosh, he chucked the dagger with his maximum power.  The dagger spiraled through the air before crashing into the witch.  The dagger slammed against her, point first, but simply bounced off, falling to the ground.

Yurat was unperturbed, he immediately dashed forward and scooped up the fallen dagger and stabbed it towards her throat, prepared to end her life.

With a loud snap, the point of the dagger broke, falling to the ground.  Yurat went pale.  He could attribute the first failure to armor, but what about the second?  He had stabbed directly at the exposed skin on her neck, only for the dagger to shatter instead!

The girl laughed, sending a chill down Yurat’s spine.

“You’re free to leave,” she said with a smile.

“What?” Yurat blanked, uncomprehending.  She was letting him go?  Even after he attacked her?

“Leave!” she snapped.  This time Yurat felt no compulsion, but he immediately obeyed her.

“Don’t come back,” she sneered.

Yurat wouldn’t.  At least without proper preparations, the girl was too fearsome.  He quickly left the mansion, only sparing a fleeting glance of terror at fresh graves as he left.

When he left, Emily collapsed to the ground with a boom.

“Too...heavy!” she groaned, sprawling on the floor.

This time she had drawn: THE TOWER.

She felt its effects the moment she drew it.  She instantly felt as if she had a million pounds on her shoulders.  Deep and heavy weight pressed down on top of her, sending her to the ground.  On the other hand, her skin was now as strong as stone, providing a nearly impenetrable defense.

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She wasn’t a fan of this card.  She laid on the ground for the rest of the day, unable to climb back up to her feet.

While she laid there, she thought about the all the information she had learned from Yurat.  She now was no longer lost in matters of the world.  She would be able to make her rise from this point on.

She only had one goal in mind.  Conquest!

Her previous world had been far too dull.  She would change things this time.  She would use everything within her grasp to achieve absolute power!

She would instill fear into the kingdom of Antoire, then take it over completely.

She cackled aloud.

Yurat wearily knocked on the door to the king’s chamber, requesting an audience with him.  Most people could never dream of meeting the king in such a way, but Yurat was a trusted friend of Antillus, and was an exception.

The king and Yurat immediately went into another room.

“You’re back later than expected.  What happened?” the king asked, worry in his eyes.

“It was a complete failure your majesty,” Yurat tiredly sighed.

The king frowned, “What happened?  Who was behind the disturbance?  Was it the Illat Kingdom?”

“No sire,” Yurat shook his head, “It was the Witch of Tarot.”

“The Witch of Tarot?” the king asked, confused, “I’ve never heard that name.”

“Before today I hadn’t either, but she is the most fearsome person I have ever met.  All the men you sent with me are dead,” Yurat said, shoulders drooping.

“She killed them all?” the king asked, his voice laced with anger.

Yurat hesitated, “No.  They all killed themselves.”

“They killed themselves?” the king asked in puzzlement, “I don’t understand.”

“The witch has a powerful compulsion power,” Yurat explained, “We were forced to obey every word she said.  She ordered the men to bury themselves alive.”

The king frowned.  That ability was truly terrifying.

The king thought for a moment, “She’s made an enemy of us.  We must be swift in our retribution.  Send twenty of our best assassins, their ears stuffed with cotton, to dispose of her.  Don’t give her an opportunity to use her magic.”

“I’m not sure that would work either,” Yurat said, shaking his head, “I struck her with my dagger twice, only to have my dagger break.  Her skin was as hard as stone.”

“What do you think we should do then?” the king asked, furrowing his brows.

“We should keep an eye on her and see if we can come up with any weaknesses.  Send our best spies to observe her.”

“Good idea,” the king nodded in agreement, “That’ll be what we’ll do then.  Send our spies to watch her.  Don’t have them approach her without permission though.”

“Yes sire!” Yurat saluted.

The king left the room in deep thought.  The enemy was truly fearsome this time.  Superior magic, stone skin, the power of compulsion.  He shook his head.  It would be difficult to dispose of her.

However, she had made an enemy of him, so she would pay.

The Witch of Tarot must die!