On the table, the Librarian's Shadows of the Past card sparked and crumbled to ash from the feedback of the broken. Beside it, his Healer of the Last Dawn apparition flickered, the gentle healer had been caught in the holy storm Elise unleashed, and when the winds faded, that glowing figure was gone. Elise's wind, fueled by love and wrath, had extinguished the Librarian's healer piece entirely. On the Coinbearer's side, the Hellshadow Wolf crouched low, and the ghostly Knight shielded its eyes, but both emerged from the magical gale unharmed and now unopposed on the field.
For a heartbeat, all was still. The game's pieces seemed to wait, shocked into silence.
Panting, the Coinbearer rose slowly from his chair and moved to Elise's side. He placed a supporting hand on her back; she was shaking from the outburst, but still standing strong. Her eyes met the dark hollows of his mask, and within them he saw sorrow and fierce resolve intermingled. Wordlessly, he inclined his head to her, an acknowledgment of her courage that made her feel steady despite the turmoil inside. Elise managed a faint, grateful smile in return.
Across the table, the Librarian finally found his voice. "Impossible…" he sputtered, retrieving his cracked monocle which had been blown off in the gale. His tone no longer held petty petulance or teasing; it trembled now with genuine disbelief. He stared at Elise, then at the Coinbearer, as if reassessing what manner of players he had invited to his table. For a moment, the mad gleam in his eye was tempered by wariness and something like respect.
That moment passed. The Librarian's shock warped back into enraged arrogance. "Impertinent whelps," he snarled, slamming a palm down on the table. The very library trembled in response; high above, books rattled on their shelves. "You dare tear pages from my story!? You think you can defy the master of this domain?"
Elise shrank back at the force of his fury, pressing herself against the Coinbearer's side. The Coinbearer stepped protectively in front of her again, rising to his full height. On the table, the Hellshadow Wolf and ghostly Knight flanked him, growling and ready. But even those summoned allies flickered uncertainly under the onslaught of the Librarian's wrath and the shaking of the Archive.
The Librarian's monocle dangled from its chain; his blind eye and his green eye burned with equal ferocity now. "I offered you courtesy and shelter, and you repay me by wrecking my game? By unleashing magic in my library?" He bared his pointed teeth and practically spat his next words. "If you will not play by my rules, then you'll face consequences far worse than any Hellhound outside!"
With that, he thrust out his hands and cheated in his own game. Between his claw-like fingers a massive leather-bound tome appeared, wreathed in green infernal flame. It slammed down onto the table, scattering the remaining cards. The cover of the tome bore Hell's sigil, and chains of smoldering fire burst from it, streaking across the table toward the Coinbearer.
The Coinbearer had only an instant to recognize what it was, the Ledger of his Infernal Contract, summoned out of the Archive's depths. His eyes widened behind his mask, a flicker of fear crossing them. He opened his mouth, whether to shout a warning or a plea, Elise didn't know but it was too late. The hellfire chains whipped around him, binding his arms and torso in burning fetters. The ghostly Knight lunged to intervene, but a chain backhanded the spirit and it dissolved into mist. The Hellshadow Wolf snarled and leapt, only to be caught mid-air by another fiery chain and flung aside, yelping as it vanished. With horrifying speed, the chains coiled tighter around the Coinbearer, forcing him down to his knees on the marble.
"Coinbearer!" Elise cried. She rushed forward to grab the chains or reach him, but a pulse of magic from the flaming ledger sent her stumbling back. Another translucent barrier encased her, separate from the Coinbearer this time, penning her at the edge of the clearing. She slammed her palms against it in frustration. Not again, she refused to be helpless again!
The cloak flew at the Librarian in a rage, its inky fabric twisting itself into a spear aimed at his heart. But the Librarian merely snapped his fingers. A smaller hellchain lashed out and caught the cloak mid-flight, entangling the living garment and pinning it to the floor. The cloak writhed furiously, but the enchanted metal links held it fast.
In seconds, the Librarian had them at his mercy. Panting, he stepped around the table to stand over the Coinbearer, who was now immobilized on his knees, struggling against the fiery bonds. The air reeked of sulfur and burnt ink. The infernal Ledger sat open on the table, pages fluttering in an unfelt wind as it poured forth those dread chains that ensnared the Coinbearer.
"You should have just played nicely," the Librarian tutted, though his eyes shone with triumph. He towered over the Coinbearer. "Perhaps I'll take all your memories now and deliver you neatly packaged to Hell's Inquisitors. They'd reward me richly for handing over a trussed-up rogue Coinbearer and the anomaly soul." He laughed under his breath. "Maybe I'll even keep the girl's book for myself… clearly Heaven and Hell both are curious what becomes of her. Such fun, such fun…"
Elise's fists pounded the inside of the invisible barrier to no avail. Inside the shimmering prison, her own newly discovered power flickered. She was exhausted from unleashing that cyclone and couldn't summon another gust so soon. Frantic, she searched for anything that could help. Her eyes darted to the Coinbearer's silver Coin lying on the table where he'd placed it at the start of the game. It was just inches from the open Hell-ledger, forgotten for the moment by the Librarian.
The Coinbearer followed her gaze subtly. Though he couldn't move his arms, his fingers twitched toward the table's surface. Elise realized with a mix of fear and hope that he had one final gamble in mind.
"Librarian!" the Coinbearer gasped through gritted teeth. The hellfire chains were searing him, smoke rising where they touched his cloak and clothes. Still, he mustered a strained smile beneath his mask. "You fancy yourself a master of games… How about one last wager?"
The Librarian paused, one eyebrow arching. "What nonsense are you babbling, worm?"
The Coinbearer drew a shuddering breath, summoning the last of his strength. In a sudden, swift motion, he jerked his head forward, knocking his metal mask against the chain pinning his right arm. The impact jarred his arm just enough with a grimace he forced his hand free for a split-second and flicked his silver Coin upward from the table.
The Coin spun high into the air above the table, catching the dim candlelight in glints of white and gold. For an instant, all other motion ceased. The hellfire chains around the Coinbearer halted in mid-tighten; the Librarian's one good eye followed the arc of the Coin, transfixed. Even Elise, still trapped behind the barrier, fell utterly still, holding her breath as the small disc spun end over end.
"Heads or tails, Librarian?" the Coinbearer cried out, his voice ringing with defiance. "Call it!" Bound and on his knees though he was, there was an undeniable authority in his command.
The Librarian's gaze snapped from the Coin to the Coinbearer in disbelief. He could no more resist a bet than a moth could resist a flame. With an affronted snarl, he spat forced by fate iself, "Heads!"
The Coin reached its zenith above the table's center and fell, clattering down onto the carved wood with a sharp clang. It bounced once… twice… then began to spin on its edge. A strange bluish spark crackled out from where metal met wood. The Coin spun faster and faster on its narrow rim, refusing to fall to either side. A deep, resonant hum built in the air, a sound Elise felt in her bones more than heard in her ears. The silver Coin was neither coming up heads nor tails; it balanced perfectly on its edge, whirling like a tiny wheel of fate. Then...
The fiery chains binding the Coinbearer trembled and then, to Elise's astonishment, cracked like brittle sugar-glass. One by one the links snapped and fell away from him, dissolving into orange embers before they even hit the floor. Across the table, the massive infernal Ledger slammed its covers shut as if struck by an unseen hand. The hellfire that had wreathed it guttered out. The great tome quivered, smoke curling from it.
"N-no!" the Librarian stammered, an edge of panic in his voice. He thrust his hands toward the Ledger, perhaps to reassert control, but at that instant the spinning Coin unleashed a pulse of force, an invisible shockwave that knocked the Librarian backward. He stumbled, arms pinwheeling.
On the table, the Hell-ledger of the Coinbearer's contract burst into white-blue flame, a different flame, ancient and judgmental. With a thunderous whoosh, the Ledger imploded into a single point of light and then vanished entirely. The contract, Hell's claim on the Coinbearer, was gone in a blink.
Freed of his chains, the Coinbearer collapsed forward onto his hands, coughing violently. Simultaneously, the shimmering barrier around Elise wavered and vanished along with the game's dissolution. She dashed to his side at once, ignoring the stunned Librarian for the moment.
Smoke wafted from the Coinbearer's scorched cloak and singed clothing. He was shaking, from pain, exhaustion, or both. Elise gently eased him to sit back against the overturned silver chair, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. His mask had cracked and loosened in the chaos; it sat askew, and through a gap she glimpsed a sliver of his face, a scarred jaw and cheek, pale skin marred by old burn scars. He quickly readjusted the mask with trembling fingers, but the brief glimpse saddened Elise. How much had he suffered over the centuries?
"It's over," she murmured to him, unsure if the words were true yet but needing to say something. She pressed a shaking hand to his shoulder, grounding both him and herself. The Coinbearer coughed and managed a small nod, squeezing her arm gratefully.
A deep, sonorous gong reverberated through the vast hall then, making them both jump. The very shelves trembled; a fine rain of dust drifted down from the heights. It was as if a great bell had been struck somewhere in the upper reaches of the library.