Everyone is dead silent, all of us staring at Johnny, full of attention. The man's presence just seems to demand it. His deep wealth of experience doing this type of thing must make it feel so natural. Or, he possesses a Lawman Sigil like Elizabeth, making his presence more noticeable and causing others to be more willing to follow.

It's probably both. The man only lets the silence last briefly as he turns his attention and ours to the weapons on the table.

"I sent Otto, Marion, and Frank on weapons runs. They went to nearby black markets with Bonfire and his team. To acquire any Colts, Claymores, or heavy-duty weaponry that might help. Anything you all do not take will be given to those outside. Priority is given to the most influential people for this battle. Just the way it has to be, as we do not have that many. No Craftsmen have deigned to join us. You all will make the most of these tools, though."

Johnny first looks at his longtime friend.

"Sacate, you first. Anything you want?"

Johnny offers up the first weapon from the massive pile on the table to Sacate, but the man from the Ijiraq tribe declines.

"I am fine."

Johnny then looks at Primrose.

"You want anything, Primrose? You don't look like you'll be up to fighting in less than twelve hours."

The hardy woman shakes her head as he points at the pistol that is not a revolver or derringer on the table. It's a type of pistol I've never even seen before. I know it is one through intuition and by its sleek appearance with the bullets tied around the side.

The thing is made wholly of steel; instead of a cylinder, it is a smooth and straight construction of reflecting metal. It doesn't even seem to have a hammer that sticks out. The grip appears to be quite large, too, as if something is inside of it. I open Chain Eyes and see cerulean around the gun. A 5th Mark. Primrose knows how to pick 'em.

Johnny acknowledges her choice before moving on.

"Got it. You can have that. Don't even know what it is other than it was made by some genius Craftsman over east."

The Gunfighter then offers a weapon to whoever he deems the next strongest.

Me.

"Wyatt. You next."

Surprise fills the room at Johnny's acknowledgment of my strength, and several people call him out on it. Otto, Marion, and Abraham especially. Even one of the previously hooded women does. I don't know even one of their names.

"What do you mean? This pipsqueak?"

"Yea, what do you mean? This pipsqueak?"

"He looks like he's twelve, Johnny."

"He. Doesn't. Look. Strong."

"Eh, I like him."

Johnny gives the dissenters all one glance as he refutes their words easily.

"If any of you think you can survive Darkstep ire on your own and have limbs cut off after going beyond your Ether limit, be my guest. Wyatt deserves his place."

The others fall quiet and look at me. Waiting for me to choose a weapon just as they did for Primrose. It seems that Johnny helped me earn their respect with just a few words. It feels like a repeat of when I was in Edmund's vault, though. Only this time more stressful.

I look over the table and the large variety of weapons and inspect them with Chain Eyes, scouring for the one that appeals to me.

I pass over daggers, swords, and even bows. None of them seem interesting. I know I should grab something, but I don't know what. Honestly, a Concoction is probably better than any of this. I hate them, but that second chance at life is essential.

I hope that Johnny has some left.

"Could I get a Concoction instead? I tend to go over the edge quite often."

Johnny laughs with a nod and pulls out a small bag from his side that he has to roll open. He then sets it on the table with the insides spilling out. Five Concoctions rumble onto the table, and one more syringe full of liquid that is somehow darker than abyssal black. He then tosses one of the Concoctions to me, and I catch it adeptly.

"Alright, next is Abraham. Now, remember these four Concoctions and single Serum I got are all that's left. We must use them carefully."

The choices continue after me, but I slowly stop paying attention to people grabbing weapons or tools. My thoughts turn to the words of the First in the book. I only notice Earl take a gatling gun and Virgil a cloak able to stop bullets.

I feel a deep meaning in the man's words when he says that I am Ether, and Ether is me. That somewhere along his path, he realized where the two mix. I look down at my hands as I make small strands of Ether swirl in my palms. I put just enough focus and pieces of my signature from my Sigil, not sure how else to describe it, to create little rainbow sparkles in my hand.

My eyes stare into the swirling sparkles for several minutes, enraptured by the miracle within.

A miracle indeed. But one that can be controlled. Perfectly, in fact, with enough practice. With enough time and effort, I wonder if you could learn every stage of Ether manipulation as a 1st Sigil. I think you could. I also find myself agreeing with his thoughts that not having Ether for most of my life is a good thing. It gives me perspective and keeps me grounded. At the same time, it gives me a curiosity about the intricacies of the substance like nothing ever before. He's right. We want what we don't have.

I—

My thoughts are interrupted by a change in the atmosphere of the meeting. Johnny had people come in and move all the extra weapons out and into the town square, free for anyone to take to defend themselves with.

And now Johnny is addressing each person with their tasks for the coming battle. The first of whom was Abraham, but sadly I was not paying attention to his orders. The second is the three hooded women.

"Sisters Of Silence. I need you two to keep working on your traps. Spikes, explosions, water, whatever. I don't care. Just tell me when, where, and what they are when they're made. We're running out of time and relying on you three."

The three 'sisters' nod at him, silently sticking to their names. He then turns to Otto and Marion.

"The usual for you two. Stick as a team, and take down high-priority targets. You two are a hunting squad. Kill anything that hurts us badly."

The duo of redheads nods enthusiastically, tapping their new weapons together. Two long thin blades with tiny handles. The steel wobbles as they tap them together.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Next up is Bonfire.

"Bonfire. You and your boys will be roaming and helping wherever you can. Keep Cigar and Woody safe so they can do their jobs; enhancing your flame and providing cover are critical duties. Frozen and Clumsy should focus on just protecting them as well."

Bonfire agrees by creating a small flame at the tip of his finger that waves at Johnny.

Onto Primrose, Heath, and Sacate.

"Sacate, I trust you to do whatever is best. Act according to your best judgment, though be wary of Alexos. We have learned from Wyatt, Virgil, and Earl that the Phantom Pain is under Hura's control. Primrose, if you can recover in time, do as you please alongside Sacate. Heath, stay safe. Far away from the fighting. You are our only doctor. Sacate can only do combat medicine. He's not a true man of medicine."

Sacate and Primose both just acknowledge Johnny's words, one with a nod and the other with a painful grunt. Heath, however, tries to refuse his orders.

"Johnny, I need to heal people. I can't just stay far away and listen to people die!"

The Gunfighter shakes his head vehemently and stands firm.

"No negotiation. If someone needs aid, they will be brought to you. You need to be safe for after. Not during."

Heath's head slumps after the straight-up refusal. The old doctor's face looks heartbroken, but he listens to Johnny. It seems his respect for the man's experience overshadows his duty.

After those three is Frank.

"Frank."

"Yessuh?"

The giant man smiles at Johnny with blissful ignorance as he receives his orders from the highly serious Gunfighter.

"Swim under the sands and take as many as you can down with you. Focus on numbers, okay? The more, the better. We can't afford to be overrun."

"Uh-huh. I won't let ya down!"

"Good. I know you won't."

Lastly are Earl, Virgil, and I. Well, actually, last is Earl as he addresses me next, then Virgil.

"Wyatt. You, Virgil, and I are on demon-killing duty. Wyatt, you are our distraction. Use every ounce of your father you can. I will focus on killing, trying to slay Hura with my gun. But the true killer will be Virgil, in hiding with Battered. The 5th Flamme can stockpile Ether over time to unleash a devastating strike. The longer you last against Hura, Wyatt, the more likely Virgil will kill him. Worst case, if we three fail, Sacate and Abraham will likely be able to help put an end to Hura."

I listen to his plan but don't hear anything about Alexos. I know for a fact Virgil told Johnny about him. The man wouldn't leave a single detail out, that's for sure. So, I bring him up.

"What about Alexos? He said that he could deliver the killing blow. All that he wants is Hura's Heirloom."

Johnny scoffs as he hears me speak. The man obviously doesn't trust Alexos.

"There is a chance what he told you three was true. But I'd rather not wage my bets on it. The best we can do is keep him close to Hura, but that will mostly be Sacate and Abraham. Truth and nightmares versus illusions. If he does kill Hura, though, I'm not against giving him the Heirloom. It is not too useful for us, even if it may be the key to the Underworld. Nothing down there is of interest to our survival."

I subtly shake my head in agreeance. I guess he's right. All we can do is give him the benefit of the doubt. He is literally known for being a liar and a cheat. I will still try to use the skill he gave me in the note, though. The illusion he left me will likely be a lifesaver or a death bringer for an adversary.

Johnny next turns to Earl, to whom he gives a surprising task, pointing at a spot on the map.

"Earl. You will stand atop a building and shoot from there. Use your gatling, a rifle, or whatever; it doesn't matter. You just have to be able to see everything so that the subtle hand of fate you enact can save as many as possible. If you see someone struggling, go and help them by tipping the scales."

Johnny then pauses and tilts his head as he continues speaking to Earl.

And to make it easier for you, I suggest you try the theory you brought to me. I've thought it over with Sacate, and we believe it will work. If there are any negatives, I will pay for any treatment that may be needed afterward. Every ounce of luck must be put on our side for each and every life that wishes to survive."

I look at Earl as I realize what Johnny is talking about. He thinks the Concoction will help Earl advance!

Earl just looks at Johnny, unbelieving at what he's saying.

"You're sure? You really think it will work?"

Johnny nods and pulls out one of the last Concoctions, rolling it across the now empty table.

"Yes. I find it to be a good idea. Risky, but his Sigil just might take care of that. Take it right here. There is nowhere safer for you to do so; both Heath and Sacate are here. They will handle anything that goes wrong."

I glance at the bag Johnny has. Only three Concoctions remain. And one Serum. The more potent form of a Concoction is meant for people between Virgil and Johnny in Sigil rank. Concoctions still work for them too, but they are not as effective.

Earl grabs the syringe as everyone watches him silently. Only Sacate gives any words of advice amidst this stressful moment. The man from the wilds speaks in riddles similar to Alexos, but his are kind and endearing instead of hateful.

"Those who come after are always more clever than those before. That is their gift. Believe in your mind, Earl. I can see the potential that lies within."

Earl thanks Sacate for the advice as he points the syringe at himself. He then pulls out the foot that has the Sigil of the Gambler. I look at him as the syringe in his hand shakes, his anxiety overriding his confidence.

I put a hand on his shoulder.

"You got this, Earl. Just another Gamble, right? This time, though, you've counted the cards. It's not at all like the first."

His eyes turn to me. I see the panic and worry fade a bit as he turns away from me and pushes the needle into his arm, holding the foot. He then injects the liquid and quickly stabs a dagger into the foot, driving his hand inside the open wound. His technique is quite different from mine; I just ripped it out with my mind when I needed a Sigil from an artifact.

As he does so, though, I see every person in this room aim a gun at Earl, including Johnny. My heart spikes as I want to ask what's happening, but a pained grunt from Earl pulls my gaze.

Black liquid enters his veins, traveling its way up his arm to the rest of his body. We all watch with tense silence as Earl's eyes roll into the back of his head, and his body starts to spasm.

**************

Earl Garner

My anxiety soars to unheard-of levels as the black liquid enters my body. The second I feel the burn, though, I attempt my plan before it overtakes my mind with suffering. The knife I carry with me is plunged into the artifact and leaves a cavity for my fingers to go in, and so they do.

It feels odd as rough flesh parts for my fingers, and I touch the inside of the foot. But I don't let it distract me. I push down my nausea and try to ignore the blaze building up within me from the nightmare fluid, and I open my mind to the Sigil within.

A great Sigil lies within, a two-tiered Sigil with two sides. One side is an amalgamation of three Sigils, with the other side a lonesome Gambler. The sensations from them all together are weird and misleading, though. It feels more like the sensation of shooting an arrow with just a tad bit of luck. Even the Sigil as a whole is a simple image. It is just an arrow with a backdrop of a pale white card.

I try to ignore any of the meanings from the Sigil and just take what I want. Following Wyatt's advice, I use my mind to grasp onto the Sigil I seek, the Gambler, and rip it out. A moment of resistance ensues as I feel my body begin to shake, but I hold on as long as I can. Using Reshuffle, I try to make the Sigil slide toward me or come to me faster, and as the pain of using Ether with a Concoction in my veins burns me terribly, I succeed.

After a split second of the Sigil snapping toward me, I arrive in The Cabin. And as I do, my mind touches on the Metaphor that I only answered recently, after seeing Wyatt fight until he lost his arms, his mind, and even almost his life.

I was asked before why people thrive on risks, including myself. My answer was simple, straightforward. As he danced with a woman ten times his strength in a ballet of death, the smile on Wyatt's face answers it all for me.

We find risks fun. Despite the danger. Despite the threat of death. Despite the consequences of failure. In fact, those are what make them fun, at least to me. I think Wyatt might just like giving the pale lady a middle finger, though.

Sadly, I could not help much in that fight except initially. Which is why I'm here now in this Cabin. So that the next time the risk is not pointless or hopeless. So that it is fun. It's fun to roll the dice to get the adrenaline pumping. But I'm still not like my father. I may enjoy it, but I will never go to the end of hurting others who do not deserve it.

My attention moves from my thoughts as the darkness of The Cabin quickly sends a shiver down my spine. The feeling of being watched has only grown from the first time I was here. My eyes instinctively move around the walls, and for a second, I see a light behind the gaps of The Cabin. A light that defies reality, one that is at the same time black as it is white.

I pull my eyes from it instantly and move toward the tome on the table in the center of the room.

I'm so stupid. The one rule is to not investigate. Just come to learn. Damnit. I hope whatever I just saw doesn't react to my sight. I quickly place my hand on the book, and it opens to my touch. The ethereal words move along the page before leaving me a message in my mind.

Your second Sigil towards Opportunity, toward Prosperity, and toward a Chosen Kismet.

The Cardsharp

The swindler whose skill precedes fate. Able to twist the threads that move the world in time like a playwright and their actors. You may now see the threads that move reality, the subtle things that give us motion. These tiny threads may be useless in anyone else's hand, but you have been bestowed the sleight of hand to control them. One thread is minor in action and only able to affect small objects. Two are middling, slightly increasing the powers at work. Three are decent, reaching lightweight measures. Four are impressive, moving heavier objects. Five are major, allowing fate to be shifted as you seek. Any more is unexpected. The more threads you can twist, the more you can move the world. Your oneness with the world has increased further. SHE will bet against you less from now on.

My thoughts gleam through the knowledge of the passage and dissect it. I've learned more about Ether and Sigils since my last time here, so it's not as difficult.

It seems like this Sigil will give me two skills. That isn't rare, but it's not what I expected after the first and Wyatt's Sigils. Most offer between two and three skills with each advancement or at least build on a previous one. This seems to give me two and build on Reshuffle.

First, I have a completely new skill. It apparently will let me move the threads of "Fate" or something. Based on the wording, I figure it will work like subtle movements. Similar to wrapping a string around an arrow and letting it loose. You only need to move the arrow a minimal amount to drastically change its destination. I think I can do a lot with this. Anything that isn't heavy can likely be moved from explosives to bullets.

The second seems to either be a more passive thing or something similar to Wyatt's Chain Eyes. I reckon it'll be more sedentary. Otherwise, using this new skill would be incredibly tedious, which I will already call Marionette. Although, that name is tentative based on how it works.

The enhancement to Reshuffle seems to be based on the wording. That my sleight of hand has increased, and if I remember correctly, the last time I was here, the tome mentioned that too. My dexterity with my hands must have something to do with my skill's effectiveness. Hopefully, it will increase both its speed and range of it as Reshuffle takes a bit too long and doesn't reach that far. I've tested it so much that I have it down to a science.

It takes a quarter second to use it, and the maximum reach is twenty feet.

The–

Wait. What was that?

I feel a cold touch on the back of my neck as I turn around. An odd silvery light slams against a gap of The Cabin, almost as if it is trying to get through. I wipe the back of my neck with my hand and feel a little slime on my fingers. I pull my hand to my face and see a shifting light of darkness. The vision is confusing, but I immediately react. I fling my hand and throw whatever it is away from me.

Then, I look back to the book and glance at the Sigil on it before trying to leave. My Sigil has shown itself slightly more, yet only Absolutions reveal their proper forms. But what remains now is a shifting series of lines. I don't even stop to admire it, though; instead, I place my hand upon the words that bring me out. As I do so, I cement the following Metaphor in my mind.

May your journey, while certainly filled with cullings, be interesting, full of discovery, and worthy of my aid.

What is the most impressive feat of sleight of hand?

To begin, my Cardsharp, place your mind within the Sigil and return to whence you came.