Death's Riddle (1) Sultan's End

Meanwhile, back at the Major Arcana wards, Sultan had jerked and convulsed for what seemed like an eternity, struggling against the magical chains that held him captive. Finally, the hermit raised the staff used to cage Sultan within the circle, releasing him from his mystical bonds.

Sultan's body went rigid, his muscles locking into place as the invisible chains fell away, and the bindings over his eyes dissolved. He collapsed to the ground, lifeless except for his ragged breathing, his chest rising and falling in a slow, labored rhythm.

The figures in their positions watched him intently, their eyes fixed on his prone form.

The Magician exhaled deeply, as if breathing on Sultan's behalf, his eyes gleaming with a knowing light. "As we shall see," he murmured, his voice low and enigmatic.

The Hermit spoke, his voice dripping with a hint of disdain, "If Sultan dies, it is not Death that is to be blamed; it is his weakness."

The Magician replied, his tone skeptical, "Really? When h