Act I: Prologue
~All in the Cards~
He shuffled the deck eagerly, his black aura tinting each card with sinister colors. He breathed a deep and excited sigh as he set it back down on his table, the six candles around him casting upon everything an eerie glow. The small statue before him—the twisted icon of Deathborn itself—stood in a small shrine in the cavern wall. His eyes took a quick scan of his underground apartment, drinking in the bare necessities it provided. With a blink, he looked back into the demanding gaze of Deathborn.
He had long served beneath the great and unholy Deathborn, many of his years spent in search of Discord the Lord of Chaos. So many of his years spent searching for him, to capture him and bring him to his god and master. So many years spent searching for that blasted draconequus—so many! It took him a second to realize he had pounded his table in frustration, causing the deck of cards to scatter. He regrouped them.
Time and again, he would search for Discord, and time and again he would fail to find him. And time and again, Deathborn would punish him for his failure.
He blinked. Only then did he realize he was staring at the scars all over his forelegs. The now-faded lines, where the red-hot needles had seared away his dark pelt, glowed almost eerily in this limited lighting. His eyes once again descended upon the statue, as if waiting for a signal.
Despite being underground where no wind could possibly reach him, the candles were suddenly blown out. One lit itself back on. The first signal. He drew from the top of the deck and laid the card facedown.
The second returned. The second signal. He drew another card.
This sequence continued until he’d drawn three more cards, bringing him to five, all facedown. The candles all burned brightly before suddenly turning a deep black, casting everything into a dark green glow. The final candle lit. One more card drawn, this one the most important.
“I have drawn your cards, O Deathborn the Great and Miserable,” he said, his deep voice echoing about the apartment. “Please, in your infinite understanding of the cosmos, I ask you to guide your humble servant to the goal you wish him to accomplish…”
His prayer was swallowed by the statue, its dull eyes suddenly burning red. I feel the Draconequus, said a voice. I can feel all the chaos he embodies… and he is forever in flight. The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, creeping under the floor, crawling on the ceiling, tittering just beneath his skin.
His cycle has begun again, continued Deathborn. As his form has changed once more, your chase begins. However, my servant, I have the feeling your ability to foretell the future to some degree should serve you well this time.
He nodded to his god. “Let us begin our fortune telling, then,” he said. He looked down to his cards, the black candles still burning.
He flipped the first card upright. On it was the Dazzling Demon. “Our first enemy this cycle is the Dazzling Demon. His shimmering lights cast shadows over his secrets. His charisma and power of influence over others is great.”
The second card was flipped, revealing the Midnight Song. “Our second enemy, the Midnight Song. Her silence and beauty form an enchanting magic that can ensnare any being.”
The third came up. “Our third enemy. The Masked Warrior. A devil hidden in plain sight?”
The fourth. “The Fox of Ages. A creature of superior cunning intellect. This one might be more dangerous than the others…”
The fifth and final foe was flipped over. “The Flightless Angel. Her wings are cut, but her courage and strength remain.” He raised an eyebrow. “If allied with the Fox of Ages or the Dazzling Demon, she might become the most dangerous obstacle we face.”
Indeed, hissed the menacing voice from before. His tone seemed rather detached despite the odds. Now. Who is to be our ally in this quest?
He took a deep breath and swallowed. With some hesitance, he flipped the last card. A smile overtook his grim face, displaying a row of sharpened teeth. He fought the urge to laugh aloud at his own good fortune. “The Lady of Death,” he said.
Silence. The black candle flickered. The Lady of Death, Deathborn mused slowly. This is the first time fate has recruited her as an ally as opposed to our enemy.
He nodded. “It seems our luck has changed. If your humble servant has the honor, may I ask what form has the Draconequus taken this cycle?”
Another pause. He has possessed the form of the F-Zero Champion’s Belt. The very prize you seek to win on those silly racetracks year after year. Deathborn’s voice hinted at his amused mood. It seemed everything was finally falling into place.
He smiled as he blew out the black candle. All that he could see now was the glowing red eyes of the icon. He leaned forward, resting his forelegs on the table, crossing them, covering his mouth with his hooves as he felt a chuckle rumble up his throat. “Then it would seem I have a grand prix to win.”
The red eyes flickered in the darkness before finally going out. See to it that you do, said Deathborn as his voice faded light years away. I will not tolerate any more failure.
“I understand,” Sombra whispered to the darkness.