"What's the salary you want for helping us?"
"Lives, blood and tears."
"What's your name?"
"Sorrow."
The dark knight moved forward as the young wizard watched him with undisguised horror.
"You're a killing machine!" he stammered.
The dark knight stopped and turned to the young man.
"Of course," he replied without missing a beat. "That's why you summoned me. I'm a war machine, a killing machine, whatever you want me to be for getting rid of your enemies. Now, let me do what I'm born for, what I live for."
"Aren't you afraid?"
"What does the word mean?"
The young wizard stayed open-mouthed by this answer.
"You don't know the fear?" he asked carefully.
"What is it?" asked the dark knight, watching the battle field with undisguised interest.
"It's something that paralyses you so much that you're totally unable to act, or then, you flee."
"That's totally useless. What would you have me knowing such a thing? How could a warrior be such if he's paralysed by this thing you call fear?"
"Well, the wise men say that the courageous warriors feel the fear after the fight, when all danger is away."
"What's the point to be... afraid if there's nothing dangerous?" the dark knight replied.
He shrugged and again, moved forward.
"Who are your enemies?" he asked, pointing at the battle field.
"You don't understand what I'm trying to explain to you!"
The dark knight turned again toward him.
"Wizard, you summoned me by the blood and you cast a powerful spell just for giving me life again. I can't be on the living world for an unlimited time, so you better let me do what I have to do and, if I have time after that, we could perhaps discuss your strange ideas."
"How will I pay you? I don't have any blood nor life nor even tears!"
"Never say that to me, wizard. By just one look at you, I can make you weep so much that you would suffocate to death, ripping your own throat so that you could breathe. That's a way for me to get my salary."
The dark knight left the wizard who hadn't the time for answering, since a joyful voice in his back exclaimed:
"Sorrow! You could have waited for me!"
The wizard swung round his heels to see a blue-eyed, blond-haired young man mounted on a white horse. The newcomer smiled to the wizard.
"Thank you for summoning us!" he said. "We were wondering when the contest would begin. So, you're the first one, huh?"
The young wizard watched him with wide open eyes.
"Contest?" he repeated. "But who the hell are you?"
"Did I forget to introduce myself? How rude of me! I am the Squire of Hope, of course. You can call me Hope."
As the young wizard didn't seem to understand, the newcomer added:
"Well, you summoned the Knight of Sorrow, so I had to come with him, naturally. You didn't expect me?"
"Not at all. In fact, I absolutely didn't know I summoned the Knight of Sorrow. I thought he was only... err... a knight of death, or something like that."
"That's a way of explaining the things!" the Squire of Hope exclaimed, still cheerful.
"But... why should you be with him? What's the link between hope and sorrow?"
"I'm with him because you summoned us this way! I don't even know who will be my King and Queen with! Nor even my Knight."
"I have the impression of speaking about a tarot desk!" the young wizard murmured.
Hope giggled.
"That's exactly that! Sorrow and I represent two of the four suits: Sorrow, Hope, Freedom and Pride."
"But who are the Major Arcana?"
"Heaven! You, of course! Didn't you just summon us? You must be the Magician."
"Me? But I'm just a young wizard, I know almost nothing!"
"You? A weak sorcerer? You're a jolly joker! It'll be fun to travel with you, it'll change of Sorrow. You can't be weak, you summoned him. His King - or mine - would have been far much more easier to summon. By the way, what's your name? You know his and mine, so, what's yours?"
"Jecker," said the young wizard. "But I don't really know your names. Just your titles."
"That's enough for now!" laughed Hope. "You ask too much."
"Why is he so stern and so sad?" Jecker asked, pointing Sorrow out.
"That's simple! Sorrow embodies the true sorrow, the one you keep for yourself. The true sorrow is like to be in mourning: you should wear it with an dignified air and in silence. People who weep loudly are not truly in sorrow, they just try to make believe it. So Sorrow has to be quiet and stern; how could he be otherwise?"
"And you embody hope?"
"Well, I do my best. But I would prefer for my Knight to be here, at my place. I'm sure he would do it much better than I could."
"Hope, when I asked Sorrow how I could pay him, he told me that my own life, blood and tears could easily be his salary. Is that true?"
"Of course not! Sorrow is not such a monster! You summoned him by the blood: that's how he got paid for the blood. The lives, he takes them on the battle field: he chooses the ones who must die and their lives are added to his credit. As for the tears, the survivors will take care of that for you. Well, now, I must go, or he will outwit all my souls and they will count as his!"
After a last smile, Hope left Jecker and followed the path traced by Sorrow who was standing in the middle of the battle field.

Enraptured, Jecker watched the battle field. In the middle, there was the dark silhouette of the Knight of Sorrow, calm and stern, walking as if he were in his rooms; behind him, there was the blond-haired boy, so cheerful and so innocent, who smiled to everybody he met, entirely clad in white. These two ones were so different, how could he have summoned them at the same time?
The other question that preoccupied him was about the contest. Hope mentioned that, but he didn't precise anything, so Jecker didn't even know what was the purpose of the contest, nor what they should do. And what was his role in that contest?
The battle ended before he could really realise it. Sorrow, still followed by Hope, came back to him, with two other people. The first one, Jecker knew him perfectly: he was his own lord, the one who asked him to help him in the battle. The second one wasn't a very familiar face, but Jecker knew him too. He was the lord magician of the enemies.
"By the gods, Jecker!" his lord exclaimed. "What's this infernal thing you sent us?"
"He is our ally, my lord."
"Fortunately. Did he come straight from Hell?"
"Not really," intervened Sorrow "but the place I came from is not really important now. We have things much more important to discuss."
"Jecker, I saw him capturing the souls of the adversaries! And his squire captured the souls of our men!"
"You broke the rules, Hope," said Sorrow without bothering to look at the young blond-haired man.
"Not so, Sorrow," he objected. "Those men were due to die no matter what I could have done. I just thought that it was better for them to die just a little sooner, so they would be assured to be in Heaven..."
"You broke the rules," repeated the dark knight. "We're not supposed to take the lives of our allies."
"But, Sorrow...," complained the squire.
"There's no but, Hope," said firmly Sorrow. "Do as I tell you."
"Yes, Sorrow," murmured Hope.
With a great sigh, he looked at the battle field and, under the incredulous gaze of Jecker, his lord and the other man, some men rose from the dead. As if nothing had happened, they regained the ranks of their comrades. Jecker looked at Hope with great disbelief.
"I can't believe what I just saw!" he whispered.
"You should," answered calmly Sorrow. "You have to know the power of those you summon. It would be better for your health."
"Sorrow! Stop threatening everybody around you!" snapped Hope, seeming quite angry for the first time.
"I'm not threatening them; I'm warning them."
"They don't know you as I know you, Sorrow, so it's the same thing for them."
"It's because they can't control what they create. What's his name, Hope? I forgot it."
"Jecker," sighed Hope.
"True. So, Jecker, you come with us. I've done what you wanted me to do. Now, you will have to do what I want you to do."
Jecker threw a desperate glance toward his lord, but this one wasn't reckless.
"Go with them, Jecker," he said with a tone of voice he tried to make sound firm. "They helped us, it's right you do the same toward them."
"Yes, my lord," Jecker agreed with a sigh.
A jet-black horse suddenly appeared in front of them; Hope and Sorrow were the only ones not to be surprised. Sorrow patted quickly his horse on the neck and mounted with a surprising grace. Jecker thought that everything about Sorrow seemed to be marked by the silence and the dignity. Sorrow never spoke a word that wasn't needed and every move of his had such an elegance that it was almost painful.
On the contrary, Hope was all made of spontaneity and cheerfulness. He said everything he had in mind and acted without thinking too much. On one hand, Jecker was happy to be with Hope, who was quite "normal", compared to Sorrow, and so genuinely merry that he would be quite an easy travelling companion. But on the other hand, it was a relief to have the solid mind of Sorrow; of course, the dark knight was all except light-hearted, but he had a practical mind and with him, Jecker was sure that the rules - whatever these rules were - would not be broken. It was a kind of safeguard and, under the circumstances, Jecker needed it badly.

After some time of a walk - strange walk: Jecker on foot, but the two others on horseback - in silence, Jecker dared to open the mouth.
"Where are we going?"
Sorrow did actually answer!
"We're going to find the second Major Arcana."
"How do you know there's a second Arcana?"
"Because of the rules."
"Hope!" whimpered Jecker with an helpless tone.
It seemed to the young wizard to hear a noise sounding almost like a chuckle coming from the tightened lips of Sorrow, but it was so unbelievable that he waved the thought away. Hope, delighted to have the occasion of breaking the heavy silence, didn't miss the opportunity to speak.
"The rules specify that each group of two figures has to be summoned by two Major Arcana. Even if the second Arcana didn't really helped you to summon us, we have to find him - or her."
"But how will you recognise your second Arcana?"
Hope sighed - a strange sound coming from this so merry young man.
"Sorrow will know. I won't."
"Why this difference between you?"
"Because I'm kind of Sorrow's prisoner. His rank is higher than mine, so he has to be my gaoler. But if we meet another group, with a Hope's figure as the leader, I may be freed. But it's not likely."
"Why?" asked Jecker, stunned by the fatalism of someone supposed to embody hope.
"It's so simple," Hope smiled sadly. "Sorrow is the best knight of all orders. Nobody can beat him. I think it's because he doesn't fear death."
"He told me he didn't know what the word fear means."
"Well, now, you understand what I'm trying to explain."
"But how can you be so fatalistic? You personalise hope! You can't give up so easily!"
"I embody hope, true, but I'm not a fool for all that. But it doesn't matter. I prefer to be Sorrow's prisoner than Pride's one. At least, Sorrow is a good master."
"Hope!" called Sorrow. "Stop saying things like that. If you continue speaking this way, you'll weaken the other people of your own order."
"You're too nice, Sorrow," said Hope, smiling fondly.
"Hope, you told me this was a contest. Can I know what's the price?" Jecker asked.
"The price? Oh... it's the world's domination for a century."
"You're joking?"
"Not at all. You are the jolly joker, not me."
"Who won the last contest?"
"Can't you guess? There were so many troubles, so many revolutions... The last winner was the order of Freedom. That's always a real disaster when Freedom wins."
"But it shouldn't be like that! Freedom is a great quality, very important and..."
"Of course," intervened Sorrow with his deep voice "but if freedom isn't controlled, then it's a disaster, because people want only to do what they want and don't think. They ask for their rights, but never for their duties. A real freedom is to accept both rights and duties. People tend to forget the latter."
"Naturally, you think that Sorrow is better?" Jecker said, rather aggressively.
"Not at all. None of our orders is good for the people. That's why we keep the system of a contest. I already explained why Freedom wasn't good. Pride isn't better: the noblemen are so filled with their own values that they oppress the common people and the reign of pride becomes a reign of tyranny. Hope, contrary to what one thinks, makes people foolhardy, because they always have the hope that all that's good will happen to them. And Sorrow gives a century of quiet, but people depress and it's not good at all to have two centuries of sorrow."
"What do you think would be better, this century?"
"I don't know and I won't make any guess. I just hope that Freedom will be defeated."
"It will!" said Hope. "You were not here last century, so that's why Sorrow lost. This contest will not be the same."
"Why were you not here?" asked Jecker, curious.
"I had a duty elsewhere," answered coldly Sorrow, still looking straight.

A gigantic silhouette was coming toward them. Sorrow stopped his mount and looked calmly at the newcomer.
"Who is that?" asked Jecker, stunned by the impressive proportions.
"I think he is our second Major Arcana."
Hope wriggled on his saddle, very excited.
"Which one is it, Sorrow?"
"Strength. Obvious, don't you think?"
"Uh... oh... see what you mean," agreed Hope with a grin. "Seems to be quite strong, doesn't he?"
"How come that you don't know how look like the Arcana?" Jecker wondered aloud, quite surprised.
"Remember, Jecker," replied Hope "that a century goes by between each contest. How do you want us to know which human will be chosen?"
"Sometimes," murmured Sorrow "I seriously wonder why the Hell we decided to do this contest to help such pitiful creatures..."
"Will you stop making you more sad and desperate than you already are?" Hope threw at him, with all the cheerfulness he could.
"Stop pestering me with that," replied mechanically Sorrow. "I am what I should be. You are the one who is not what he should be."
"What's that? Don't I embody hope perfectly?"
"Not at all. You're far too much realistic for that."
"Oh..."
Hope seemed to be very sad by hearing this, so Sorrow added:
"You would be much better in an order such as Happiness, simply. But, alas, that order doesn't exist."
"Do you really think what you just said?" Hope asked, light-hearted again.
"Do you ever hear me saying something I don't think?"
"Err... no, true. Oh, Sorrow, you're the kindest man on the world!"
Despite himself, Sorrow smiled slightly and Hope exclaimed at once:
"Sorrow! You smiled! You actually smiled!"
The dark knight touched his lips with his fingertips and said:
"Oh, dear! It's true! I'll have to watch myself. It could be very dangerous."
As he kept a deadpan face, Hope was laughing openly, while Jecker tried desperately to understand the strange link which bound the two people.
During this time, the man Sorrow had qualified of Strength had arrived within earshot.
"Travellers, I greet you," he said with quite a grandiloquent tone of voice.
"The pleasure is ours", answered politely Sorrow. "One wonders what you're doing in such a pitiful region."
"One shouldn't wonder", replied pleasantly the newcomer. "I'm looking for something, but... don't ask me what, I don't know it myself."
"You have a strange quest."
"And you are in strange company."
Sorrow looked behind his back: the merry Hope was on his white horse, patting it nicely, and Jecker, almost as stern as himself, glanced severely straight before him.
"We have a strange quest too. Would you like to join us? I'm sure that four people would better see the thing you don't know you're looking for."
As usual, Sorrow kept a straight face when saying what appeared to Jecker as perfect nonsense.
"I would indeed be very pleased", answered the newcomer, quite surprised. "Though your company seems strange, I feel that I'll like it. My name is Hervikles."
"My companions are Hope and Jecker. I am Sorrow."
"Just a question about this subject, Sorrow," intervened Jecker. "You embody sorrow as Hope embodies hope, but why are you so stern yourself? Hope is not very hopeful and optimistic. Why are you incarnating so much your value?"
"Because I have observed life during a long time and I don't find anything joyful in it."
"But... music?"
"Either awful or so beautiful that it becomes heartbreaking."
"All the beauty, the human feelings..."
"Purely egoistic. Beauty? It's a question of taste. Two people won't find the same thing beautiful."
"Women? Aren't the women beautiful and don't they give some joy to lives?"
"They are either boring or breathtaking. And almost each time, breathtaking becomes heartbreaking."
"And love? Will you tell me that love is purely egoistic? It's the most beautiful feeling that a human being can feel for another..."
"Love is like hope: it's the worst poison of life. There's nothing more pitiful than a human trapped by love. That's the most disgusting feeling!"
"You know it, then, if you say so?"
"Yes, I know what it is to burn of love for someone, but now, I have recovered and I understood my mistake. I will never do it again, you can count on me."
"You're a wise man, Sorrow," said Hervikles. "I would be more than happy to discuss with you about those subjects. I never had the occasion," he added with a rather sad tone.
"How's that?" Hope piped up.
"You see, when you have the same stature as mine, people don't understand why you want to study; they see you fighting, not studying, so I had to spend my time fighting, instead of learning useful things..."
He sighed.
"That's awful," said Hope, sympathetic.
Hervikles took a great breath and noticed, quite astonished:
"You know, I don't feel anymore the desire to find something I knew nothing of!"
"I know," said sternly Sorrow.
Hervikles looked at him and realised:
"You knew from the beginning! You knew that you were what I was looking for!"
"Of course, I knew. I'm here for that."
"Sorrow!" Hope scolded quite nicely. "How can he understand if you explain nothing to him?"
"Well, I let you do that for me. I'm sure you'll find a nice way to put things together, so that he won't be horrified when he will learn that he is the Strength."
If Sorrow hadn't been Sorrow, Jecker would have sworn that the man had smiled, but with Sorrow, it was just impossible: he was able to say the worst things - or the funniest - without smiling even slightly.
"I am the Strength?" repeated Hervikles. "What do you mean?"
"How do you want me to explain to him, if you say half of it before I begin?" protested Hope.
He took Hervikles apart and explained to him all he had already said to Jecker, about the contest, the Major Arcana and such.