Irwin's Journey - The Cardsmith

I don't want my first card to be a utility card, Irwin thought lamely as he pressed his back against the door.

His first card was the most important one and would form and shape the person he would be. What would this card make of him? A glorified candle-lighter?

He knew he was being unreasonable. Most kids in the Rat District didn't ever get a card.

It was just that he hoped and dreamt about a card that would fix his rickety body! Something that would allow him to join the others during the midsummer fest or to help him run away when Bast felt the need to bully him.

Taking a deep sigh, he was about to move to the bed when he picked up the soft mutter from the room.

What was that?

Knowing he wasn't supposed to, he placed his ear to the door.

"No, I didn't tell him," his mother whispered.

Her voice was so soft that Irwin knew he'd never have heard it if he hadn't put his ear to the door. He also knew she would be upset if she found him listening in. In such a small house, respecting each other's privacy was paramount...

"You should. If he hears tomorrow from-"

"Bronwyn, enough," his mother snapped, and he knew he'd have heard that.

Even with his ear on the door, he couldn't hear Brownyn's reply, but he almost started when the front door was yanked open. Staring at his own door, he frowned. Where was she going?

"I'll be back late," his mother said. "Make sure to wake Irwin in time and tell him- by Gelwin's Beard. Irwin? I know you can hear me! I'll come around the school during the break- make sure you go! Teacher Rhym has something important to tell."

Irwin froze against the door, the hairs on his arms standing upright. Tomorrow was supposed to be a day off. Why would he have to go to school? Worse, what was so important that his mother had to impress on him to go?

He jolted as the door slammed shut. There was a tired sigh from the room, followed by Bronwyn's voice.

"Gelwin's balls, how things can turn around. Irwin, slot the card. I know you don't want it, but you need to practice with it tonight and tomorrow morning- Never mind. Just do it. You might not get another chance."

Irwin didn't respond to the curse his mother would have objected against or his brother's worried voice. He clutched the card as he stepped towards his tiny crib and slumped down with his back against the wall. His mind was in utter chaos, filled with questions. What was going to happen tomorrow? What had his mother not told him? And what did Bronwyn mean by he might not get another chance?

It took him a while before he'd calmed himself enough to look at the card, still clutched in his hand. Although he wasn't handling it carefully, the card showed no bend. The tiny flame flickered brightly, and-

Wait, why can I see?

Irwin looked around the room, which should have been pitch black yet wasn't. Instead, everything was bathed in a dim orange light that came from the flame on the finger of the card, which was, of course, ridiculous. Everyone knew that the images on the cards couldn't interact with the real world. That was just-

Irwin licked his suddenly dry lips as he raised the card closer to his face. The odd swirl on the top of the border of the card was definitely odd, but it looked more like it was damaged than anything else. The flame hovering above the finger wobbled slightly from a wind he didn't see. Afraid he was imagining things, he put the card on the bed beside him, and instantly, the light vanished.

He gazed around the dark room before carefully picking the card back up. Instantly, a vague light flickered around the room. The longer he looked at it, the more he realized there was something odd about the card.

I don't have much choice anyway, he decided as his fantasy began running wild.

What if the swirling pattern was a hidden thing? Something that meant it was actually some hidden card, or perhaps even a legendary ranked card? His worry faded fully to the background as he sat in the middle of the bed and raised his left hand.

As he placed the edge of the card against his skin, three simple square shapes appeared on the back of his hand. The tendons and blood vessels around the edges stood out, while those behind were obscured.

The tiny flame card was almost twice the size of one, but under his watchful and awed gaze, the leftmost slot on his hand began glowing.

The card shuddered, then jerked from his grip, hanging above the slot. It glowed brightly, then shrunk and moved inside so fast he almost didn't notice.

"Wow," he whispered.

The process barely took two seconds, and as soon as the card slotted into his hand, he felt a slight drowsiness. Though he'd never experienced what was happening, he knew what it was- his body was going to integrate his first card and change him. Had it been a rare or better card or one explicitly dealing with body enhancement, he'd wake up taller, stronger, or with other physical changes. But now?

He waited, hoping for his body to start hurting as that would mean the card really was something special. A minute in, nothing was happening, and he yawned. Cleaning the dog pen was catching up on him, and as his stomach rumbled, he suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten.

Come on, he thought as he stared at the card in annoyance.

As if answering him, the card slowly changed. It had already stopped moving and glowing, and as he watched, it slowly turned into no more than an etching in his skin. The other slots faded, and the etched card turned to lines before all he was left with was a dim tattoo of an edged card with a tiny swirl in the top border.

It's barely visible, just like any other common, he thought. A stupid common utility card.

He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, and he quickly turned his head away. He didn't want to look at the card anymore. Putting his head on the pillow, he yawned so wide it squeezed some tears into his pillow.

At least he had a card, he tried to tell himself. As his body became heavy, he stared blearily at the mold on the wall. The last thing he thought was that he was missing something, and then his overworked body and mind yanked him into a deep, dark sleep.

--

"By Gelwin's beard! Irwin, wake up!"

"Wuh- wha?" Irwin muttered as his eyes slowly opened.

Lingering images of raging fires that swallowed worlds faded before he could focus on them.

His head was pounding as if he'd gotten a cold, but he didn't feel the customary runny nose that would otherwise accompany that. Something prodded his shoulder, and he groaned as he rolled on his back.

Bronwyn was hovering above him with a frown, shaking his head as the corner of his mouth curled up in a mock half-smile. "Well, show it then!"

Irwin blinked in confusion as he sat up and rubbed his eyes- why were those stinging this much? Annoying.

"Well?"

"Show what?" he croaked, realizing his lips were parched and his tongue dry as leather.

He got up and stretched, staring at Bronwyn, still not sure what he meant when he scratched his hand. Suddenly, everything came back, and his eyes widened as he looked at his hand. The tiny lines, almost a tattoo, of the card with the finger and flame were still there. He got his first card!

For a moment, joy and wonder came, then his head throbbed again, and he groaned.

"What's wrong? How long did you practice? Did you even sleep?" Bronwyn asked, the smile gone and replaced by a frown.

"I didn't practice," Irwin said as he stepped around his bulky brother and through the door into the living room.

"What? Why not?!" Bronwyn snapped, storming after him.

"I was too sleepy," Irwin said as he suppressed his desire to add that it wouldn't matter anyway.

Who would care how proficient he would be at lighting candles or campfires? He took a cup from the shelf, removed the lid of the tiny water cask, and dipped it in, making sure not to get his hands in. The water tasted like sweet honey to his parched throat and dry mouth, and he gulped it down. When the cup was empty, he quickly refilled it, drained it, and did it again.

As he finished his fourth, there was a grunt from the table, and he looked up to see Bronwyn stare at him, eyes narrow. Wait, had he even thanked Bronwyn? As bad as the card was, at least he'd gotten one- something none of the other kids in the Rat District could say. That put him on par with the children of the craftsmen and rangers.

Well... maybe not on par, but at least closer, he thought. He wondered what Greldo would say when he saw his card! They had been speculating a lot, and he knew his friend was incredibly jealous, even though he hid it as best as he could.

"Bronwyn, thank you for the card," he said, meaning it.

His brother didn't answer, still watching him quietly, and slowly Irwin became uncomfortable. His headache was fading rapidly, though he felt like he could probably still drink one or two more cups. Instead, he carefully put the lid back and rinsed and replaced the cup before turning around. Bronwyn was still looking at him, and he swallowed.

"What's wrong?"

"How do you feel?" Bronwyn asked softly.

Irwin shrugged. "Okay…? I've got a little headache, but it's almost gone, and-"

"Do you have any muscle cramps?" Bronwyn asked, interrupting him.

Wait, was his brother checking if he'd somehow changed? Why would that happen? It was just a common card. He was about to say as much when he held back. Perhaps he had changed? He stretched a bit and tried to check his height from the doorpost. When he saw he was still the same tinyness as the day before, he barely managed a smile.

"No, nothing. Just a little sore from cleaning the dog pen," he said before frowning. He stretched again and did feel a bit of soreness, but not nearly what he'd have expected. Was that normal when you slotted a card?

Bronwyn frowned, opened his mouth, and then looked at his own hand, which had two card slot tattoos.

Wait, two?

"You got another card!" Irwin shouted before clasping his hand before his mouth.

"Yes," Bronwyn said, looking up. Slowly, his frown lifted as he raised his hand and put it on the table for Irwin to inspect.

Irwin was happy to oblige, curiously putting his face so close he almost put his nose on his brother's rugged and tanned hand. A card with the tiny image of an owl sat beside Bronwyn's starting card, the clasped hands- a simple body improvement card that granted increased body strength and hand dexterity. It was uncommon and one of the best of its kind, and the reason some people despised his brother.

"Wow, you got a summon!" Irwin hissed as he looked up with wide eyes. "Show me?"

Bronwyn grinned as he sat back. "Alright, but don't frighten him. He is still very young."

Irwin nodded enthusiastically as he felt his excitement grow. "Does he have a name?"

"Not yet," Bronwyn said. "I was thinking you might want to help me with that?"

Irwin's head bobbed up and down so fast the vestiges of his headache returned, and he stopped quickly.

"Definitely!"

Bronwyn laughed and raised his hand, frowning as if concentrating. His left hand glowed for a moment, then a soft woosh came, and a gray spark appeared above his raised palm. Then, out of nowhere, a tiny, fist-sized owl plopped down on it. Dark gray, almost black, with beautiful auburn streaks across its feathers, the owl turned its head around and looked at Irwin with almost glowing orange eyes.

"It's beautiful," Irwin muttered as he slowly moved his hand forward before holding back. "Can I touch it?"

"Yes, but be careful of its beak!"

Irwin moved his finger towards the owl's side, and it followed his finger before the large orange eyes blinked lazily. The feathers were soft and smooth, unlike anything he'd ever touched, and as he stroked them, he marveled.

"How big will it become?" he asked.

"Roughly twice the size of my head," Bronwyn stated proudly. "Nowhere big enough to ride, of course, but big enough to be dangerous in combat! After it's fully grown, it can attack the monsters, distracting them so I can get a clean shot or hit in!"

Bronwyn's words caught Irwin by surprise, and he looked up, slightly worried. "Are the monsters as bad as they said?" he asked, his shoulders dropping.

He hadn't even talked with his brother yet about how it had been. All he had thought about was himself and his troubles, not even asking about how it had been to roam the lands around Malorin and go through portals to close them.

"Don't worry, Irwin. It was alright, and I learned many new things," Bronwyn said, placing his hands on the table and absently stroking the tiny owl. "I-..." he waited, then shook his head, muttering something about their mother. "Listen, Mum, she- man, how do I tell you this?" Bronwyn rubbed his face.

Irwin looked at his brother quietly, recalling the conversation he'd overheard the day before.

"What is going to happen at school today?" he asked.

His brother looked up sharply. "You heard? You know you aren't supposed to listen in!"

Irwin didn't respond. He knew Bronwyn was right, but something was going on. If Bronwyn didn't even want to talk about the portals he'd gone in? It had to be something-

The sorcerers?

Irwin gasped, and his eyes widened as he began connecting dots. Only a few things would cause everyone to have to return to school during an off day, and of those, only one would explain his mother's behavior.

"But they were here only half a year ago? And I'm not sixteen yet and the weakest," he rambled as his hands gripped the edge of the table. "And I'm not the smartest! There's Clarish and Lark and… and… The sorcerers are here? Why?" he almost cried, barely holding back his tears.

Bronwyn seemed to wilt at the other side of the table, now no longer looking at him but staring at the tiny owl that was curiously examining Irwin.

"A week ago, there was a message from the sorcerers that we were to get a new group of people ready," Bronwyn said as he began tapping angrily on the table.

"What? Why?" Irwin whispered.

"Nobody knows for sure, but there's a rumor going around the Rangers groups that a Diflor assassin got into the towers and killed hundreds of potential sorcerers."

Irwin's eyes widened in shock. "But, that means-" he began.

"That means that the sorcerers need new people, or they won't have enough to close the portals between the towns and cities," Bronwyn said. "Worse, if we get another upheaval or massive surge at the wall..."

"But that hasn't happened in ten years," Irwin said, shaking his head, still in shock.

"Eleven," Bronwyn corrected him. "The older rangers say that this means there will be another one, and soon. The reports from the wall say that there have been more attacks and... well..." he seemed to want to add something, then shook his head.

"But, the stories say that the portals will slowly stop appearing..." Irwin began, stopping as Bronwyn shook his head miserably.

"The stories are wrong. Magnif, the ranger that I've been placed with? He's turning fifty, and he remembers the previous three… He's told me about the worst one, over thirty-five years ago. By the end, a single sorcerer was all that stood between us and total annihilation."

Irwin sunk down on the stool, feeling miserable, and it wasn't just because Bronwyn's ranger captain was right. No, this also meant that the stories he loved hearing painted the wrong picture.

Of all the disadvantages of his condition, at least he'd never worried they would select him to go to the sorcerers or the wall. Those needed to be physically fit and strong or have had powerful cards from a young age. Or both, like some nobles.

But now they were even taking this from him?

He shuddered as he suddenly understood why the noble's children had been so quiet the last few days.

"The city council has determined that we can't send any of the rangers or guards. We are barely holding on as it is, and the sorcerers only accept those or young people. So we will be sending twenty of the children of your class," Bronwyn said listlessly. "I'm sorry that you don't get to stand on the square and be chosen, Irwin. I'd have loved to stand and see one of the mapmakers or alchemists apprentice you.”

Irwin just shook his head at the lies. He knew full well he'd never be picked by anyone. Even if the card he had now were an uncommon card, his physical weakness would have been too much of a liability to any master to consider spending time and precious resources on him.

Bronwyn clapped his hands suddenly, startling both Irwin and the owl.

"Enough of this. The bell hasn't rung yet, so we got a quarter left. Let's see to getting this little one a name, and then you need to see what your card does!"

"Alright," Irwin muttered.

He listlessly called out a few names, barely paying attention.

There was no way he'd be sent to the wall, which meant he was going to the towers. What would life there be like? Would Mum come to see him? Was she even allowed? Who else would go? Probably Greldo, who was almost as much of a runt as he was.

And just as disposable, he thought, feeling his anger bubble up.

"That's a good idea," Bronwyn suddenly said, and Irwin blinked as he tried to recall what he'd just proposed.

"Glint! I like it, short and snappy," Bronwyn said as he nodded his head and began grinning at the owl. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Irwin had no memory of saying the name.

Irwin forced himself to pay attention when he saw Bronwyn place his left hand on the owl's head.

"I name you Glint," Bronwyn said, and the card slot burned a bright silver for a second. The owl simply cocked his head, then vanished.

"Where did it go?" Irwin muttered.

"Back into the card. It's just an uncommon summon card, so it starts very young and weak. Now that I've named it, it will start growing and gaining its own abilities. I'm hoping for either Gigantism or Shadow Stealth."

Irwin couldn't help himself from nodding. Those would definitely be awesome, with the first making the owl as big as one of the ranger's hounds and a dangerous adversary, while Shadow Stealth would make it the perfect infiltrant. That Bronwyn would gain a tiny measure of the same ability wouldn't hurt him either.

"So, call the flame," Bronwyn said, waving his hands outward, the muscles on his arms and chest rippling below the thin tunic.

Irwin snorted.

As if it will be anything that impressive, he thought.

Still, as he raised his hand, he couldn't help but become curious. Focusing on the card still meant looking at it for now, as he needed way more practice to do it without- so he stared intently at the finger and the flame until he sensed something. It was like a connection that he'd never noticed and that he could flex.

The connection was vague and weak, but he knew it was the card and that it would become clearer the more he used it. He raised his other hand, a finger up as in the image, and slowly tensed the muscle.

A tiny spark erupted from his fingertip, then another, and for two seconds, a poor representation of fireworks illuminated the room.

"Focus on a flame," Bronwyn said.

"I am," Irwin snapped as he heard the worry in his brother's voice.

By Gelwin's balls, does the curvy line mean his stupid common card isn't anything special but broken? It barely registered that he'd used the same curse as Bronwyn had.

He gritted his teeth and focused on the odd connection, trying to force more of a reaction. For a few moments, the card seemed to ignore his wishes, then he connected with it, and a woosh came from his finger. A tiny flame hovered there, heat waves rippling outwards. As he looked at the flame, any hope he might have left vanished. Feeling something inside him crack, he released the connection, causing the flame to disappear with a soft woosh.

"I'm going to school," he said, turning to the door without looking at his brother. There was no response, but as he closed the door to the shadowy alley, he heard a soft 'I'm sorry' from inside.

"So am I," Irwin whispered, too soft for his brother to hear, as he closed the door.