Sagas Among the Arcana: The Plague Doctor, Part III

Part I, II


“My medicine works especially well on women.”

What a strange claim to make. The thought makes Robert hesitate. It feels like such a lie.

Yet, sacrificing caution, Robert believes it. 

He opens the door.


The Devil is drawn — domination . . . giving into the shadow


The crow-like creature examines his mother. Its beak hovers over her, looking ready to pierce through her sweating skin at any moment. Robert suddenly feels himself ready to tackle the thing out through the window. 

But then, he sees his mother’s nose twitch with the barest hint of life, and he fools himself into believing it is a result of some plague doctor magic.

The creature straightens to its full (albeit tiny) height. It turns its menacing beak toward Robert. For a few moments, it simply stares, and Robert wonders if it wants him to break in some way — down to his core and pull his stomach out. 

His grotesque fantasies, however, are halted when the doctor begins feeling for something beneath its robes. It pulls out a leather pouch lined with metal studs on the bottom. Robert blinks for a second making sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. He would expect such an accessory from a teenage girl looking for something to keep her makeup in. It shocks him to see it being held by the strange doctor. Sure, the black fits the creature’s aesthetic, but the object in itself is so mundane.

Robert expresses his observation out of curiosity. “Where did you get that?”

The doctor pauses in the middle of taking out some simple-looking tweezers. “Where someone would normally get such a thing — a store.”

Robert refuses to let himself feel stupid. This pouch, for some reason, makes him suspicious of the doctor. 

He feels childish with the question he’s about to ask, but he pushes on as it feels necessary. 

“I wouldn’t have expected a plague doctor to have such a bag.”

“You didn’t expect a plague doctor in the first place. So how would you expect to expect anything from me at all?” It snaps at him.

The creature quirks its head to the side, like the bird it imitates. The action threatens Robert to silence. It steps toward him. He takes a step back.

It continues in a commanding murmur. “So what do you expect of me?”

The blank black eyes bore into him. He wants to walk back further — run, anywhere away from here. But he remains in his spot, locked by invisible chains. 

“I expect you to help my mother.”
“And that is what I will do.”

The Devil

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To be continued . . .

Sagas Among the Arcana: The Plague Doctor, Part II

This post is a continuation of last week’s. You can read that here.


“You don’t look like a doctor.”

“Of course I am,” it stresses.

He imagines eyes rolling underneath that crow mask.

“I’m a plague doctor.”


The Two of Pentacles is Drawn — “economy of action, caution”

Robert eventually relents and leads the “plague doctor” in. 

What a curious name, he thinks. He tries to search deeper — recounting from old textbooks he may have read in school. Why is it familiar? Is that an actual profession? Not to mention that “plague” is such an archaic term — he knows that at least — no one has used it in centuries. Perhaps a “plague doctor” came from that time. But how would their skill be different from a regular doctor? 

Leading the doctor up to his mother’s room, Robert notices that the creature is somewhat shorter than him. It also has a heavy gait, which is likely the result of the too many robes that it wears. 

They pause before Robert opens the door.

“Is that what this all is? A plague?” he questions carefully. His voice is so low, he doubts that he’s even saying anything.

But it hears him. “What else would it be.”

It takes a step forward. A leathered glove reaches from underneath the robes, about to twist the door knob.

Robert quickly catches it in a tight grip. He expects it to turn into a taloned appendage. 

A minute passes. No one speaks.

The doctor’s hand shakes. 

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I can help them — whoever is sick.”

Robert stares at the ground, refusing to look at the crow-like face. He feels pathetic — once again a boy taking scoldings from his mother.

“Have you helped anyone else?”

“No. You will be the first.”

He squeezes tighter, hoping it hurts.

“Then how can I know your medicine works?”

“It will work.”

“You could make her worse.”

“Is it your mother that is sick?”

“Yes,” he answers without thinking, then curses. Shit.

“My medicine works especially well on women.”

What a strange claim to make. The thought makes Robert hesitate. It feels like such a lie.

Yet, sacrificing caution, Robert believes it. 

He opens the door. 

Two of Pentacles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To be continued . . . 

Sagas Among the Arcana: The Plague Doctor

I recently indulged in a new deck— Murder of Crows by Corrado Roi! (The Vault of Midnight is going to absolutely drain my bank account in the next few years.)

While I usually prefer the vibrancy of my other two decks, this one is so gorgeous. It reminds me of my assignments for art class in high school where I clutched my graphite because color pencils are messy and ruin everything.

This deck is also perfect for the Halloween season! So I’m going to use it as my primary deck for the whole of October. 

Coincidentally, one of the stories I’m working on for a class right now is in line with the spooky theme, so expect future readings to be in a similar vein 😉

On with the story!


The Ace of Pentacles is drawn — “a prosperous beginning, careful planning.”

Amina looks past frosted glass into the dead city below. 9 pm is usually the time for young people to go out and dance while drinking various martinis. But now even they are too tired to go out — too sick

Disease pervades them all. Even those who are not in bed hover near it, prepared for the dreaded fainting spells they witnessed dear ones fall to. Not Amina, though. She has no loved ones to observe falling sick; she’s only heard gossip on the streets, back when there was less fear. 

But do not mistake her for being afraid. No, she’s simply following the trends. How they all react — and how she can take advantage of that.

.  .  .

Robert is not sick. But the rest of his family is, and he has no means to take care of them. He has a master’s in engineering, yet now wishes he’d followed his mother’s advice to go into medicine. 

He glances over at her. Her once beautiful and rosy face is now gaunt and sickly. If she were healthier she would reprimand him with an I told you so.

He yearns for it desperately. 

He walks downstairs to get some water when he hears shuffling from the outside. He pauses in his steps. Who would be out now?

He thinks he hears knocking.

He slows his breathing, feeling too heavy for the hardwood floor.

The doorbell rings.

His breath hitches. 

Stupid, he calls himself. They used to get visitors all the time before this crisis. What’s so daunting about someone visiting now?  

He leaves his cup, filled by the sink. Then goes to open the door. 

He curses. 

“I hear someone is sick here?” The creature is a bit shorter than him and it speaks in a low hum. Is it a costume?

It shuffles beneath its heavy black robe, looking so antiquated along with that beak-shaped mask. Where has he seen such a thing before?

“I asked if someone was sick here?” Robert forgot that he had to speak.

“Oh, um yes . . .” Is it even safe to answer?

“Good,” it concludes satisfied. 

Robert can’t help but feel offended by this. “Good?”

“Yes. I’m a doctor, so I can help?”

Doctor?

“You don’t look like a doctor.”

“Of course I am,” it stresses.

He imagines eyes rolling underneath that crow mask.

“I’m a plague doctor.”

.  .  .

To be continued . . . (next Thursday!)

The Ace of Coins (and yes, that is Virizion holding up the card)

 

 

 

 

Sagas Among the Arcana: The Fool

Welcome to Sagas Among the Arcana! For my fist post of the semester, I’ve decided to observe the first card of every Tarot deck – the Fool.


considering the fool . . .

she is naive, much like a disney princess

I make this observation because look at her!

in both forms, she surrounds herself with animal companions

canines and fish — can she speak to them?

one form in particular lounges like ariel herslef.

 

so this is my stance,

the fool is a disney princess

with uncharted worlds for her to traverse

a society to learn about beyond the boundaries of her own.

 

because the fool is one who starts a jouney

and any good fairy-tale must have a wonderous journey.

(Thank you for joining mine)


Decks used: White Numen: A Sacred Animal Tarot & Tarot of the Divine

Sagas Among the Arcana: The Knight of Swords and Three of Pentacles

One day a knight happened upon my shop. She held a blade so sharp and so polished, it glinted blindingly even with the dark overcast. She handed me three coins and said:

“Make me a crown.”

Her eyes slate eyes spoke dangerous promises, so out of self-preservation I gathered my white robes and said:

“Yes.”

Her black stallion marched her away. My legs still shook beneath my skirts, whether from the cutting winds or fear I knew not.

I used her three coins to forge the finest crown in the nation, fine enough for a Queen. 

Years later, in the summer, the stallion returned with its owner. I was sweating, yet I still shook. It was never the wind.

The knight had made a name for herself since I gave her the crown, now dirtied and unshined, leading many a warrior to victory. Now it seems that she wants to lead me to the palace.

“Come with me, your skills may be useful for things other than jewelry.”

Her arm is stretched out. I can make out the chords of muscle beneath the thin sleeves.

Her palm is warm and she grips me firmly as I allow her to haul me upon her mount.

She gives me three thousand more coins and under her guidance, I make much, much more.

Sagas Among the Arcana: The Court of Swords

This week’s card picks: Page of Swords, Knight of Swords, Queen of Swords, King of Swords

 

One day you see them

 when you are within the clouds as the air cuts past you. It’s a dangerous thing to be surrounded by a court so skilled with the sword. 

The Paige stands on the edge of rocks, fearless. But you fear that the harsh wind may blow her over. She sizes you up, curios — who would dare come to level with them?

Perhaps, you begin to regret that it is you who dares.

A snow mare stallion trots around you, the Knight mounted upon it. He has yet to take action, yet you sense he may soon. His twisted, swerved sword aimed in your direction. 

You begin to count your breaths.

One

Ah

Two

Ah

Three —

The Queen.

She levels you with a gaze so frigid. You don’t doubt her sword has the ability for the same. Blood spilled so coldly it freezes. But you sense there may be more. Underneath all the layers of heavy silk and flowers. Calculated intentions. What they hold for you? You’ll never know.

Then comes a shrill screech demanding your attention. Demanding you to take action so that it may make its move so that they all can.

The King is a rainbowed beast, circling above you ready to take its dive. You see metal glint with it. A sword? You wonder why the griffon may ever need it.

You see the King pause every now and then above its kin. It observes. It protects. Loyalty.

You wonder what it would do if you wronged any of them. Those who lay above the clouds. In his realm.

But you need not test it. After all, you aren’t armed with a sword.