Loss and Betrayal

Enraged by The Star’s death, Buwan’s fury ignited like a blazing sun. Her celestial light burned with unrestrained vengeance as she charged at The Tower, her crescent blade gleaming with deadly purpose.

“You took her from us!” Buwan screamed, her voice trembling with grief and rage. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done!”

The Tower barely had time to react as Buwan’s strikes came in swift, furious arcs, each one cutting through the air with raw power. Her light illuminated the battlefield, casting long shadows over the chaos.

“Do you think your fury will undo her death?” The Tower taunted, his deep voice calm and unyielding. “Anger blinds you, Moon.”

“Then I’ll make sure you feel my pain!” Buwan roared, her blade slicing through the air with relentless precision.

Her attacks forced The Tower back, but in her rage, Buwan left herself vulnerable. From the shadows, The Hanged Man emerged, his sly grin reflecting his cunning nature.

“Poor Moon,” he said mockingly, his voice smooth and taunting. “Your light shines so brightly, yet it’s so easy to dim.”

Buwan turned to him, her eyes blazing. “Stay out of this, Hanged Man, or you’ll regret it!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he replied with a chuckle, his hands moving in intricate patterns as he wove a spell. “Your grief makes you predictable, and your anger… oh, it makes you mine.”

Before Buwan could react, a dark sigil wrapped around her, its shadowy tendrils sinking into her light. She cried out as the curse took hold, her once-vivid radiance flickering like a dying star.

“What… what is this?” she gasped, falling to her knees as her strength waned.

The Hanged Man crouched beside her, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “A gift, dear Moon. A little… clarity. You’ll find it much easier to obey without all that pesky free will.”

Buwan tried to resist, her hands trembling as she struggled to break free, but the curse twisted her mind, filling her with doubt and submission.

At the same moment, Dewata found herself facing Death. The dark figure moved silently, his scythe glinting ominously in the dim light.

“Death,” Dewata said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. “I should have known you’d be here.”

“Balance must be maintained,” Death replied coldly, his tone devoid of emotion. “And today, that balance demands sacrifice.”

Dewata raised her staff, its light glowing with determination. “You’ll find I’m not so easily taken.”

They clashed, divine light against the unrelenting shadow of Death’s scythe. Each strike sent ripples of energy through the battlefield, but Dewata’s focus wavered as she caught sight of Buwan falling under The Hanged Man’s curse.

“Buwan!” she cried, her momentary distraction costing her dearly.

Death seized the opening, his scythe slicing through her defenses with brutal precision. Dewata gasped as the blade struck, its dark energy destabilizing her divine essence.

“No…” she whispered, her vision blurring as she felt herself being pulled into the Void.

“Goodbye, High Priestess,” Death said coldly, his form disappearing into the shadows.

Buwan turned just in time to see Dewata vanish into the Void.

“No! Dewata!” she screamed, her voice cracking with despair. Her light surged for a moment as she tried to rise, but the curse held her firmly in its grip.

The Hanged Man laughed, his voice echoing with cruel delight. “And now you’re all alone. Poor, poor Moon.”

Overcome by grief, Buwan collapsed, her once-radiant light reduced to a faint glow. She was powerless as the Dark Arcana surrounded her, their shadowy forms closing in.

“You won’t break me,” Buwan said weakly, though her voice lacked its usual confidence.

“Oh, we won’t break you,” The Hanged Man said with a sly smile. “We’ll simply… reshape you.”

As darkness enveloped her, Buwan’s light dimmed but did not extinguish entirely. Deep within her, a faint ember of hope remained, waiting for the day it could burn brightly once more.

Dewata’s Journey in the Void

The Void was an endless expanse of darkness—a realm where time dissolved, space unraveled, and hope felt like a distant echo. Whispers haunted Dewata’s every step, mocking her solitude, clawing at her resolve.

“You are nothing now,” the voices hissed. “Just a shadow, a forgotten fragment.”

Dewata pressed her hands to her ears, though it did nothing to silence the relentless taunts. “I am more than this,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling but defiant. “I will not be broken.”

Her divine essence, though weakened, flickered faintly within her, a fragile light in an oppressive abyss. She wandered aimlessly through the darkness, her thoughts tangled in fragments of memories. The gentle sound of Buwan’s laughter would drift to her, like a fleeting breeze in the suffocating void.

“Dewata! Smile! The stars are watching!” Buwan’s voice echoed in her mind, playful and warm.

Dewata stopped walking and clutched her chest, the memory bringing both comfort and pain. “Buwan…” she murmured, her voice cracking. “Are you still out there? Are you waiting for me?”

The whispers around her grew louder, crueler. “You’ll never find her. You’ll wander here forever, just like the others.”

Dewata’s steps faltered as shapes began to materialize in the shadows—remnants of other Arcana, shattered fragments of their essence too faint to reform. They hovered silently, like ghosts, their eyes hollow and lifeless.

One fragment stirred faintly as she approached. “...Help... me...” it rasped, its voice barely audible.

Tears welled in Dewata’s eyes as she extended her hand, but her light flickered weakly, unable to reach it. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow. “I don’t have the strength.”

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The fragment dissolved into the darkness, leaving Dewata trembling. “I won’t end like this,” she said to herself, her resolve hardening. “I refuse to be forgotten.”

She continued onward, clinging to the faint embers of her divine power and the memory of Buwan’s light. The whispers tried to break her, but she countered their taunts with defiance.

“You are alone,” they hissed.

“No,” Dewata replied, her voice steady. “As long as I remember her, I am not alone.”

“You will fail,” they sneered.

“Then I will fail fighting,” she shot back.

The whispers fell silent, their power faltering against her unwavering determination.

After six centuries of wandering, Dewata finally felt a shift in the oppressive darkness. A faint light appeared in the distance, flickering like a candle on the verge of extinguishing. She staggered toward it, her steps unsteady but resolute.

When she emerged, it was as if she had been reborn. Her once-mighty form was gone, replaced by that of a fragile 12-year-old girl. Her divine power, once radiant, was now a mere ember. Her memories were fragmented, like a puzzle missing half its pieces.

She stared at her trembling hands, her voice soft and uncertain. “This… this isn’t who I was.”

The memory of Buwan’s laughter echoed faintly in her mind, a guiding light in the chaos. Dewata clenched her fists, determination sparking within her.

“Who I was doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “What matters is finding her.”

Though her form was fragile and her power diminished, the memory of Buwan remained her beacon. She took her first steps into the mortal world, carrying with her the resolve to reclaim her identity, find her light, and restore what was lost.

Back to the Present

In the mortal realm, Dewata sat among the group, her gaze distant as she recounted her story. Her voice, calm yet laced with sorrow, carried the weight of centuries of pain and perseverance.

“For six centuries, I wandered the Void,” Dewata began, her tone steady but heavy. “Time meant nothing there. The darkness was alive, taunting me, trying to strip away everything I was. But what it could never take…” She paused, her lips trembling faintly. “Was her light. Buwan’s laughter—her hope—it was the only thing that kept me from losing myself.”

The group sat in stunned silence, absorbing the gravity of her words.

Dominic finally broke the stillness, his voice trembling with disbelief. “Auntie Dewata? Is that really you? What happened to you? Oh, I can’t believe this—you’re… a Goddess?”

Dewata turned to him, her expression softening. “Yes, Dominic, I was once a goddess. But what you see before you is only a shadow of what I used to be.”

Dominic stared at her, wide-eyed. “You were the High Priestess of the Tarot World? This is insane. I mean, you were just—” He gestured wildly. “You were just you. Now you’re telling me you’re a legendary figure?”

Buwan, leaning back with an amused smile, interjected. “Oh, Dominic, you always did have a flair for drama. Didn’t it ever cross your mind that your family might be extraordinary?”

Dominic threw his hands in the air. “Extraordinary? This is way beyond that! Auntie Dewata, you’re glowing now, and I still don’t know how to process that!”

Dewata gave a small, reassuring smile. “Dominic, what matters now is not who I was, but what I must do. And for that, I need all of you.”

Leigh, her voice soft but steady, spoke next. “What do we need to do?”

Dewata’s expression turned resolute. “I have found a way to break Buwan’s curse. But it requires Arden’s help.” Her gaze shifted to Arden. “Your destiny as The Fool ties you to the restoration of balance in the Tarot World. You are the key.”

Arden hesitated, scratching his head. “Me? Why me? I mean, I’m just… me.”

Dewata’s eyes softened. “You underestimate yourself, Arden. The Fool is the card of boundless potential, of courage to step into the unknown. That is why you must help us—because you are capable of what others cannot see in themselves.”

Arden sighed, his usual humor faltering. “Well, no pressure or anything…”

Before anyone could respond, Dewata rose to her feet. The room grew still as an aura of power began to radiate from her. Her voice, steady and commanding, echoed through the space.

“I am Dewata, the High Priestess of the Tarot World,” she declared, her tone laced with authority and grace. “Guardian of wisdom and the keeper of secrets. Through the centuries, I have endured the darkness, but my purpose remains unbroken.”

The room filled with a soft, radiant light as she continued.

Buwan stepped forward, her playful energy suddenly infused with solemnity. “And I am Buwan, the Moon of the Tarot World,” she said, her voice melodic yet firm. “Guardian of dreams and inspiration in the darkest hours. Though I have been bound, my light will never fade.”

As their words resonated, their cards—The High Priestess and The Moon—began to glow brightly. The room filled with a golden and silver radiance, the energy swirling around them like a living force.

Arden shielded his eyes. “What’s happening?” he asked, his voice tinged with awe.

“They’re returning to their true forms,” Leigh whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

The light grew blinding for a moment before fading into a soft glow. When the group looked again, Dewata and Buwan stood in their original forms.

Dewata was regal and serene, her presence exuding wisdom and grace. Her flowing robes shimmered like starlight, and her staff glowed with a gentle, calming energy. Beside her, Buwan sparkled with radiant energy, her crescent-shaped blade gleaming as her playful smile lit up the room.

Dominic stumbled back, his jaw practically hitting the floor. “Auntie Dewata? Is that really you? Oh no—this is too much! And Buwan—you—wait, am I dreaming?”

Buwan burst into laughter, her melodic voice filling the space. “Oh, Dominic, you’re too much! Yes, it’s me. Try to keep up, will you?”

Dewata placed a hand on Dominic’s shoulder, her serene smile grounding him. “Titles and forms do not matter among family. I am still your aunt, Dominic, no matter how I appear.”

Dominic blinked rapidly, still overwhelmed. “Right. Still my aunt. Except now you’re glowing and talking like a queen.”

Arden chuckled, crossing his arms. “You’ll get used to it, Dominic. Trust me, weird is the new normal.”

Buwan nudged Dominic playfully. “Cheer up! You’re practically family to two goddesses now. That’s got to count for something!”

The group shared a brief moment of laughter, their bond solidifying in the face of the trials ahead. Though their journey was far from over, the room felt brighter, their collective resolve shining as brilliantly as the light now surrounding Dewata and Buwan.

The awe quickly gave way to humor as Dominic stumbled over his words.

“So… uh… Aunt Dewata? Or is it Goddess Dewata now?” he stammered, his usual confidence completely shattered.

Buwan laughed, her voice melodious. “Relax, Dominic! You can call her Aunt, or maybe I should call you ‘Sir Dominic’ to match your formality!”

Dewata placed a calming hand on Dominic’s shoulder. “Titles don’t matter among family. Call me whatever makes you comfortable.”

The playful exchange lightened the atmosphere, a reminder that even in the face of darkness, laughter could still be found.

As the room began to settle from the overwhelming transformation of Dewata and Buwan, a sharp ringtone broke the silence. Leigh quickly pulled out her phone, her usually composed expression shifting to alarm as she answered.

“Lolo?” she said urgently, her voice tinged with concern. The group immediately perked up, sensing the tension in her tone.

From the other end of the line, the General’s voice was strained but steady. “Leigh, we’ve been attacked. Tiyanaks—dozens of them. We’re surrounded and holding position near the old bridge, but we can’t last long. Get here now.”

Leigh shot to her feet, her hand tightening around the phone. “We’re on our way, Lolo. Hold on.”

She hung up and turned to the group, her usual calm replaced with determination. “My Lolo and his team are under attack. Tiyanaks are swarming them, and they’re outnumbered. We have to move now.”

Arden immediately grabbed his bag and gave a nod. “Let’s go. We can’t let the old man down.”

Dominic rolled his shoulders, his usual smirk replaced with a serious expression. “Tiyanaks, huh? This should be interesting.”

Dewata stepped forward, her serene demeanor masking the fiery resolve in her eyes. “Lead the way, Leigh. The High Priestess will not stand idle in the face of darkness.”

Buwan spun her crescent blade in her hand, her playful grin resurfacing. “Oh, Tiyanaks? Sounds like fun! Let’s see how these little monsters handle the Moon.”

Leigh nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “We need to move fast.”

The group gathered their belongings and quickly headed out into the night, the urgency of the moment igniting their resolve. The air was thick with tension, but the presence of Dewata and Buwan brought a renewed sense of strength and purpose.

As they sprinted toward the bridge, Arden glanced at Dewata and Buwan, a small grin creeping onto his face. “So, do goddesses have battle strategies, or do you just wing it?”

Buwan laughed, the sound like a bell cutting through the night. “Oh, you’ll see, Arden. We make our own fun.”

Dewata gave a knowing smile. “Stay focused. The light always prevails.”

The group disappeared into the darkness, their combined energies radiating like a beacon of hope against the shadows ahead. The night was far from over, and the battle waiting for them promised to test their newfound strength.