#eyeofallsuits

The Sandlers

Queen Morgana searched the castle frantically for her son, but he was nowhere to be found. Not in his bedroom, not in the game room, not in the throne room, and not even in the balcony garden, which he would frequent and gaze off into the distance from. He didn’t leave a single trace. All across the House of Obsidian, all anyone could find was that he was completely gone.

She collapsed at the table, groaning to her husband. “Doesn’t a young man 19 years of age know better than to run off before a war?”

King Mare took a sip of his coffee. “Evidently not.”

“But our young man? The one we raised so carefully, and lovingly? Shouldn’t he know better?” She grabbed her coffee, served in an obsidian goblet, like Mare’s.

“He should,” he answered. “But I’m sure he knows to come back.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Well, he’ll learn soon enough, I’m sure. There’s not one person in the House of Pearl who’ll mercy him.”

“I fear that there is.” She began to mutter to herself, forlorn. “Why did I ever approve Mattia’s stupid ball?”

A knock at the door interrupted them, causing Morgana to straighten herself. She assumed her proper dignified face. 

“Your midnight?” called a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

She knew her advisor when she heard him. “Come in, Mattia.”

He strode in, his tousled brown hair bouncing from underneath his black cap. “I bear you n-”

“News,” she completed. “What is it?”

“We’ve heard word from the castle guards that Prince Arturo has been spotted heading in the direction of the House of Pearl.”

Of course, she thought. “So the guards saw him but didn’t try to stop him?”

“Um, well… I’m sure they tried to stop him, your midnight, but… one must keep in mind, they’re the new recruits.”

“Where are the regular guards?” she pressured sourly.

“You conscripted them, dear,” Mare reminded her gently.

“Right, they’re preparing for the first battle.” She noticed Mattia standing awkwardly, as he always did once he’d run out of things to say. “You may go, Mattia. Tell the guards to stay put and keep watch for Arturo. He’ll come back eventually.”

 “I will. Would you like refreshed refreshments?”

She held up her index finger as she drank from her cup, signaling for him to wait. Finally, she placed the empty cup down on the table. “Yes.”

Queen Alessia scoured the halls of the House of Pearl, roaming the palace in desperate search of her daughter. Not in her bedroom, not in the game room, not in the library, and not even in the sun room, filled with light, which she would frequent and gaze out of the magnificent window from. Not a single resident of the palace, nor Dario- her eagle-eyed advisor- said they’d even seen her since last night.

Frustrated, she took sips of candyleaf tea from her glimmering white glass, but despite the extra spoonfuls of sugar, it still tasted bitter. King Dante sat with her, eating his preferred white biscuits.

She drummed her fingers anxiously, collecting dust on her white satin gloves. “Now is not the time for a girl like her to be running away…” 

“Is there ever a good time?” Dante asked.

“Well, there’s no good time, but there are certainly better ones,” she argued, her eyes turning to the chess board battle map in front of her. “Certainly better ones than this… It’s been generations since the House of Caïssa split, years since I became queen, and many months since she first started talking about Arturo after going to that Obsidian ball. She could have left any time, but she chooses to leave now, right before we declare war.”

Dante stroked her arm. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure she’ll be safe. Adelina’s headstrong, but she’d never jump into something unprepared.”

She wove her fingers in with his and twirled a strand of platinum blonde hair with the other. “It doesn’t make me feel much better knowing she’s had a plan of her own just as long as I’ve had mine.”

“Your radiance!” called a voice from the door. “I come bearing news.”

“Speak it, Dario,” she responded, quickly brushing hair out of her face.

“Fair Princess Adelina ha-”

“Did you find her?” bubbled Alessia with hope.

Dario felt bad saying it. “Not… quite. It was the scouts who found her, but not soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestured with his hands. “She was, well…” He bit his lip. “Maybe I should have started with ‘they saw her off in the distance running off into the woods.’”

Alessia sighed and grabbed her tea cup. “Send them off to find her and come back with more tea.”

“Your radiance, you ordered them to survey the field and keep watch for ambushes.” He grabbed the ornate teapot. “Does this new order supersede the old?”

She paused, thinking as her eyes scanned the chessboard, following the white pieces to the black queen. She counted her pieces, and those of the enemy. White had yet to take its first move. “No,” she concluded. “No it doesn’t. Keep them on watch.”

Dante leaned in. “And then after the battle, they can go find her, surely?”

“After the war,” she decided. “After.”

Adelina watched from the tree as Arturo finally arrived, his backpack sagging, heavy. “Took you long enough.”

“Oh c’mon,” he panted. “We both know the Pearl Palace is closer.”

“Maybe so,” she teased, “but shouldn’t adventurous Arturo be able to make it to something so important in a timely manner?”

“Well it doesn’t matter what Arturo’s capable of, does it? I’ll be Mr. Sandler, soon enough,” he pointed out. “Speaking of, has… he arrived yet?”

“The officiator?” she asked, peering around. “No, not yet.”

“But we have!” came two voices from the bushes. One after the other, the twins Mattia and Dario appeared, removing their Obsidian and Pearl garb as they walked towards the makeshift pews in the clearing. “Sorry for the wait,” Mattia began.

“We both had messages for our queens to deliver first,” Dario finished. 

“But now they are filled in on the situation,” Mattia continued.

“And their drinks are filled up,” his twin added. “That should keep them preoccupied for a while. I know Alessia is already back to plotting war.”

“As is Morgana,” Mattia confirmed. “So that leaves us to sit back and watch the newlyweds.”

“Soon to be newlyweds,” corrected Adelina.

Dario rolled his eyes. He was used to the Pearl princess’s fondness for technicality. “Still, we’re just as happy as you that our little plan has finally come together.”

“As the lovebirds finally will,” versed the officiator lyrically as he appeared from the brush, carrying a book under his arm.

“There you are, Edgar!” exclaimed Arturo. “Glad you could make it.”

“Well, I just barely did. It’s potato season, so there were plenty of orders, but I got them done plenty quick. My dad should start looking for me any second now… he never vends our harvest without his assistant.”

“Let’s make this quick, then,” suggested Adelina. “I know our large audience has places they need to be.”

“Will do,” said Edgar as he placed the book on the podium and began flipping through the pages. He mumbled to himself as he searched. “Botany, botany, more botany, sales figures, maps, potato defects- ah! There it is.” He cleared his throat and readied his adult voice. “Family and- well, just friends- thank you all for coming today to share in this wonderful occasion. Today we are here together- well I’ll skip ahead, we all know what we’re here for. Do you Adelina, take this man to be your lawf- um, wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she said, as she wove her fingers with Arturo’s.

“And do you Arturo, take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“Yeah,” he said smiling, until Adelina jokingly punched him on the shoulder. “I mean, I do. I do.”

“Good,” said Edgar, closing the book. “You two are now Mr. and Mrs… what was the name you came up with again? Oh, Sandler, right. We don’t have any rings, and I don’t have any authority vested in me, so I skipped those parts.”

“Hey, isn’t there a part where they kiss?” asked Mattia, disappointed. Everyone, including Dario, turned their head to stare.

Edgar shrugged, unsure. “I mean, maybe? Does it really matter at this point? You two are married, you can kiss each other as much as you want.”

“Like we weren’t doing that before,” lulled Mrs. Sandler as she placed a gentle hand on her new husband’s face, eyelashes fluttering ever so romantically.

Edgar and the twins exchanged awkward glances. “And on that note,” said Mattia, “we’ll be off.”

“You two have fun making out!” called the waving Dario as he began to walk away, with Mattia angrily following after. The couple watched awkwardly.

“I’ll be taking my leave too,” announced Edgar. He tipped his cap. “Enjoy yourselves. If you ever want some potatoes from your favorite potato vendor to relive the moment, feel free to stop by. I’ll give you an ‘I Married You’ discount.”

“Thanks, Edgar,” chuckled Arturo. “We’ll keep in touch.”

Adelina waved as he submerged into the foliage. “Goodbye!”

The two waited until they couldn’t hear his footsteps, and then joined hands. “Let’s find some scenery for this romantic evening,” suggested Mr. Sandler, a lusty fire lighting his eyes. “Someplace private.”

Mrs. Sandler took a step closer, the fire spreading. “There’s plenty of those in the middle of the forest, dear.”

“Perfect.” His lips formed a devious smile.

“You always said you wanted us to go on adventures together,” recalled Mrs. Sandler as she wrapped her hands around his neck. “Will this be the first?”

He leaned in. “The first of many.”

Her lips imitated his. “Oh, many indeed.”

She held the nest of blankets close to her chest, shielding it and the note inside from the rain. Carefully, she climbed the wall, keeping her grip tight against the slippery stones. Peering over the wall, she found the house, with the same beat-up wagon leaning against it. The order board beside it was empty, the faded lettering still remembering when it used to read “William and Son’s.”

Hopping down from the wall and into the cobbled street, she dashed to the door. She knew she didn’t have much time; this village wasn’t fond of outsiders. Neither of them were welcome there, but she was the only one of the two who could leave. She hoped he’d be accepted eventually, at least at Edgar’s house. She hated to leave a burden like this on him, but she knew this was a better home. She dropped the bundle at the doorstep, keeping the note facing up. Then she knocked and left.

He got up from the desk and opened the door. No one was there, but he heard a baby crying. He looked down, and saw a child wrapped in blankets. He picked him up and read the note:

Nathan Sandler

He took the child inside.

Author's Notes:

The House of Caïssa is named after Caïssa- a "goddess of chess" invented by an Italian poet.

All characters except Queen Morgana, Edgar, and Nathan have Italian names, as such.

King Mare of the House of Obsidian- Mare (pronounced "may-ray") means "sea."

Queen Alessia of the House of Pearl- Alessia could potentially mean "defending warrior."

The twin advisors Mattia and Dario both have Italian names.

The star-crossed lovers Arturo and Adelina have amazingly alliterated Italian names.

Hey. I'm Zester and this is one of my stories. I've been working on it for years now and it is now at the point of being semi-readable. To me, anyway. You'll have to see for yourself ;)

I write from time to time but haven't found a routine for it. Don't expect an upload schedule. What you're about to read has been sitting dormant in my computer for a while lol

Anyway, enjoy.

The Eye of All Suits: Prologue

Through frantic tears and whimpering, he watched as the pale moonlight drifted in from the window, seeping into its jaws. It shook wildly, growling with pleasure, as more vantablack drool bled from its mouth. Once it had taken its full, it retreated onto the wall, satisfied, becoming a shadow once more. 

Jack was frozen. The gasping candle flickered in his trembling hands, casting blinking light into the swallowing darkness that engulfed his room. The creature’s shadow stood over his bed, its faded tentacles drifting with a low hum. It hadn’t moved far from the window it entered from. Since it came in, it hadn’t moved from the edge of his room, but it also hadn’t broken eye contact. Its eyes were these horrid things- gaping holes in its shadow or bright white orbs that seemed to glow. They were always fixated on him, pulsating. He felt its gaze push him back to the wall.

Suddenly, it tore from the wall. The candle’s flame glimmered on its many bone white teeth, casting an orange glow from ear to ear. In a cracking cacophony, the teeth began to separate, revealing an endless throat. Black ooze melted from the sides of its mouth. The candle’s light didn’t even penetrate the darkness beyond its jaws. It began to slither forward.

Jack shrunk down, taking a hand off the candle to try what his mom had taught him. He shut his teary eyes, put his hand on the wall and tried to keep himself still. He focused on the shadows, trying to feel them with his fingers, peeling them from the wall. He felt something shapeless and cold start to appear, and hot breath from his left. As the material began to solidify, he could feel the creature inch closer, sometimes even feeling droplets of drool splash on him. But he didn’t dare move- he had to see if this worked. His family bent shadows, and this creature was a shadow too- maybe objects made of shadow had an effect on it? He concentrated on the image in his mind and the forming handle between his fingers, imagining the attached blade. He had to try. It was like what mommy had told him: even if things try to stop you, march on.

Finally, the knife had fully formed, and Jack pulled it from the wall, turning to face the creature. The tip of the blade grazed it as he turned; the creature was inches from his face. Suddenly, it groaned, and a snake-like tongue began swirling in its mouth. If his mother were there, she would be very proud of him. That knife was the first item he’d successfully shadow bent. It had taken many weeks of difficult practice in secret, but he had finally done it. It was a shame he didn’t even get the chance to use it.

As Edgar Flare tucked his adopted son into bed, he heard a child’s scream off in the distance. Startled, his son shot up straight and yelped, clutching his blankets. He’d yet to take off his glasses, so they flew off his face and landed on his bed.

“What was that, Edgar?” he whispered meekly.

Edgar stared out the window for a moment. “I’m not sure, Nathan.” He grabbed the glasses with a large hand and gently placed them on the nightstand. “Probably just another kid like you, having a nightmare.”

Nathan stared out the window, his mind flooding with fear. “Are you sure? What if it’s a monster? What if it’s going to get me?!”

He grabbed Nathan’s head and pulled him close. “Hush, Nate. It’s not going to get you. You’re safe in bed, in our house.” He released him from his arms and flicked up his chin so their eyes met. “With me.” He ruffled his hair. “You’re safe here.” 

His son’s comfort shined in his smile. 

Edgar backed away from the bed. “Besides, monsters aren’t real anyhow.”

The boy’s eyes widened, filling up his glasses. “Wait… really?” he gasped, showing this was clearly news to him. “But… but what about all the heroes? Like the ones on the plaques? Like Sir Coe? Everyone tells me they killed lots of monsters.”

Edgar paused, realizing the slip of his tongue. “Well, there’s a difference. Those monsters, those ones are very real. But the ones you find in books and stories? Those are just… less real. Does that make sense?”

Nathan shook his head meekly. “No…”

“Well, it’s hard to explain…” explained Edgar. “It’ll make more sense when you’re older.”

Nathan was used to hearing that. “Oh, okay.”

“Just remember to always respect the heroes,” he reminded him. “They keep us safe from the monsters.” He jokingly flexed his muscles, which weren’t very large. “And so do I!” 

Nathan giggled, releasing a wonderful cheer of childlike glee. It always made Edgar smile when he heard it. “You’re silly, Edgar! You’re not a hero!”

He chuckled. “I know, Nate, I know.” He walked to the door and blew out the candle. “You think you’ll be alright now?”

“I… think so.”

“Are you scared anymore?”

Nathan paused. “I… don’t think I am.”

“Are you sure?” toyed Edgar.

“No.” His son was a very honest and straightforward person. 

“Aw, Nate… you’re a smart, brave boy and you’ll grow up to be a strong, brave hero.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“I am,” he said slowly, gaining confidence. “I am!”

“Yes, yes you are!” he smiled. “Have heroic dreams.”

“You, too Edgar.” He waved enthusiastically, his hand bouncing on his wrist. “Nighty night!”

He chuckled. “Good night, Nathan.”

And the door was shut.

[at the end of each chapter, there's a different related piece of in-universe writing]

~Monsters of Myth~ 

Tenebris-

(A) predatory creature(s) with an unknown appearance. Conflicting accounts debate whether it lingers in shadows and darkness or is made of them. Most accounts describe it with pure white eyes and many teeth, though the details on its body differ wildly. Some describe tentacles, others legs, and some even with wings. Most sightings of it come from the Shadow’s Thicket and one of the nearby villages, Brinelette.

The behavior of the Tenebris is also mysterious. Some harrowing accounts describe it as a predator that consumes its victims, while others argue for it being a parasite. It is commonly agreed upon that the Tenebris feasts off of light for energy, but its effect on people is unknown. Most who encounter the Tenebris do not come back to tell their story, and those who witness it are often too manic to give discernible details.

The name of the Tenebris has echoed throughout the centuries, but there is no solid evidence of there being more than one of it. Thus, if a hero were to slay this feared demon, they’d be putting to rest a millenia-old tormentor. It is recommended that- like with other demons- heroes should try to combat it using a source of light magic. The rule goes as many tales have proven: in the face of light, evil cowers.

Mirros-

Grater-