Multifandom Imagines

Julian Devorak (The Arcana)

After Julian vanishes without telling you a word, probably fleeing Vesuvia as searches for him intensify, you struggle to make peace with the situation and move over him.

Your arms feel sore as you raise them to turn over the sign on your shop’s door, now showing “closed” for all your potential night clients. A sigh escapes your lips when you pass the door frame to the back of your shop, where your and Asra’s apartment hides.

Asra, your master in the arts of magic, has left on one of his many journeys a few days ago, leaving you to take care of the shop on your own. You didn’t mind the quietness of it all, but you have to admit that you’ve been missing some company. Plus, Asra tends to be very quiet even when he is here.

You pour yourself a cup of tea and breathe in the chamomile steam that’s slowly escaping the cup in a mesmerizing dance. You can also smell the usual aroma of your shop and home. The smell of old books coming from all the spell books and history manuals that Asra always put in your lap is by far your favorite, but the palo santo incense and the lavender candles also give you a feeling of relaxation.

You slowly step towards the living room, placing your cup on the coffee table and sitting on one of the many pillows Asra left on the floor.  Resting your hands in your lap, you close your eyes and concentrate on disconnecting from the physical world to enter the spiritual one, in hopes of maybe meeting Asra there.

It doesn’t seem to be your best day for practicing magic, since concentrating is almost impossible.

There’s a lot on your mind and your eyelids can’t seem to be able to remain shut. Your eyes slide to the tarot deck on the coffee table and you rub your temples, slightly annoyed.

The cards have been very talkative lately, constantly telling you should be expecting someone to return in your life. You know better than to disregard the cards, but still, you do not want to allow any hope to creep up in your mind.

Julian left, it was his decision and him returning would not change the fact that he abandoned you.

Whispers start to fill your ears. The whispers of the tarot cards calling you towards them. You groan, but then apologize to the cards, not meaning any disrespect to the arcanas. Shuffling the cards in your hands, you pray that they don’t tell you the same thing they’ve been telling you these past days.

Pulling out the card calling out to you, you ask yourself why you didn’t just simply ignore the whispers. They would’ve stopped eventually.

The Hanged Man. Stuck in a situation you need to let go of.

You scoff, telling yourself you wish it was that easy to let go. You prepare to set the deck back on the table when the whispers intensify once again.

“More?” you ask, surprised.

Your fingers linger over the one card that’s transmitting its energy to you. Before even turning it over properly, you already recognize the figure. You would recognize it anywhere, in any form.

Death. Change, transformation.

Wow, the cards are really calling you out today. They tend to be sassy sometimes but haven’t been so lately. Unless… they aren’t referring to you, but another person.

Before you get to grab the deck again and ask the cards, the clink of the bell at your shop’s entrance fills the room. You place the deck back down, leaving Death facing the ceiling with its cold stare.

“I’m sorry, we’re clos…” you yell while rushing to your shop, but you stop on your track when you’re met with a tall, dark figure, towering over your front desk.

You gasp at the sight of their long cloak brushing the tile floor and their black plague doctor mask.

They turn their head towards you as soon as you enter the room and you wince at the lack of expression of the mask. It’s impossible to see the person’s eyes behind the glass of his mask, but you notice the figure tilting their head at you, seemingly examining you.

The mask gives you goosebumps, almost making you run back to your living room. The plagues that cast upon Vesuvia has been terrorizing the people for a while now, but eventually everyone learnt to live with the disease creeping around and continue their lives as usual. The plague doctors, though, with their terrifying attire, were a constant reminder that the disease was still around, still spreading, still killing.

The tall figure raises their arms as if greeting you, but when you don’t react in any way, their arms drop down, betraying their disappointment.

“We’re closed” you stand your ground, not so sure on yourself anymore.

The tension in the room is thick and when you notice the figure raising their hands to the mask, to probably take it off, you tremble in expectation and fear.

The moment the mask is off, and the red loops of hair fall on the forehead of your intruder, revealing the face you prayed you won’t have to see again, you swallow your breath.

“Even for me?” Julian’s sweet, cocky voice booms.

You shake your head and laugh in disbelief. You barely resist the urge to just leave him there, in the middle of the shop, and lock yourself in your apartment.