Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Chapter 11

Chaotic Intentions

“Excuse me?” I said, thinking I had misheard yet again. “Did you say Chaos?” I glanced at the nearby guard, but they still made no move; I was nearly convinced they were a card, but if so, they’d have that too-real shimmer to them.

“That’s right,” the wild man said with a smirk. “I’d show you, but…” His eyes slid the same direction mine had just traveled. “Stephi here doesn’t take kindly to that sort of thing, so you’ll just have to take my word on it.”

His utterly disheveled appearance and position in the room made more sense in light of this information. What I couldn’t fathom was why he was here at all. I could see the value in having someone who could summon the types of Chaos cards we’d face in battle during our training – such a thing fit the preparedness motif General Edaine had been hammering home. But why also use that person as an advisor? All in all, it felt like I was at the receiving end of a very poor joke.

I checked over my shoulder, frustrated to see that Edaine was still on the other end of the room. If she had been nearer I could have asked her what in the Twelve was going on.

“Huh,” Griff rasped, and I turned back around, finding him scratching at a scab on his cheek that made me regret looking. He seemed confused as he worried the loose piece of calcified flesh. “Usually that’s enough to make folks piss themselves, or at least send them running, but you’re not doing either.” He shifted so he could look under the table. “Are you?”

“I most certainly am not,” I snapped, crossing my legs. I wasn’t about to reveal to this man that I had faced down one of his ilk before, so I just said, “I’m not everyone.”

“Guessin’ not,” he agreed and then shrugged. “Might as well see those cards then.”

“Basil!” someone shouted through the hall, and I turned to see Gale storming toward me. He actually looked angry for a change. “What are you doing speaking with that heretic?”

“Why do you think I would be?” I said, feeling my own anger rise. “No one else will work with me.”

“Truly?” he said, looking perplexed, which only heightened my frustration. I didn’t want him knowing my deck wasn’t up to snuff in the eyes of other veterans. “Nevermind,” he said, shaking his head and gesturing for me to stand. “I’ll be your advisor.”

I clutched my cards even closer to my chest than I had with Griff. “I have no plans to show you anything, not before –” I stopped myself, suddenly very aware of the Chaos user watching me closely, and even Stephi standing silently behind him. The duel would eventually get out, but I didn’t want it circulating Camp just yet. “No thank you. The offer is unnecessary.”

Gale sighed, as if I was being some great chore, most of his anger melting away. “You do realize that I’ll see your cards when you train, don’t you?”

“Only the ones I choose to use while you are present,” I countered. I didn’t need a War Camp class to tell me that information was paramount to defeating another summoner – I had learned that in the Tournament. If I could surprise Gale with even one card, that could be enough to secure victory.

“You’re being ridiculous about this.” I could tell my brother was starting to lose his patience from the depth of his second sigh, but I didn’t bother responding again. The less I said, the less there was for him to use against me. “I could simply command you to do as I say. Here, I am a Captain, while you are a mere Lieutenant in training.”

“If you wish to stoop to cheating, yes, you could,” I shot back.

He eyed me a moment, and I could see the ruby flecks in his eyes – they were a disconcerting addition to his sky-blue gaze. “Fine,” he said, smiling sharply. “I’m sure my new fiancée could use some assistance instead.”

He spun away, his cloak slapping me across the face. I had opened my mouth to stop him – what I might have said, I don’t know – so I tasted tassel and spent the next few moments spitting out hairs rather than calling after him.

“Well… ” Griff said with a drawn-out chuckle, a scratchy, ugly thing like the rest of his speech. “That was more fun than a penny show in Darlish. And interesting, too. Wouldn’t you say so, Stephi? Makes a man glad to be alive after seeing something like that.”

Per usual, the guard didn’t answer, but I was happy to snap at someone. “How do you figure?”

Through the mange of hair, I could see the Chaos user's eyes crinkle. “Not too fond of your brother, are you, boy? He’s older, more likely to inherit, and is higher ranked in more ways than one. No surprise you’d have some spite between you. What is…” He leaned closer to me, and this time I refused to back away, even with the horrid smell; I would stand up to someone this day. “Is that you sound like you’re going to do something about it. That right?”

The only reason most people would find that interesting was if they had something to gain from it, and in his jailed position, the most likely thing was some form of revenge against my family.

“Why do you care?”

“What’s it matter?” he said, leaning back and looking pleased, even though I hadn’t answered his question. “Long as you get the help you need, who cares why it showed up?” His hissing voice made everything he said sound sinister.

“You already offered to help by looking at my cards. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

“True,” he said with another broken-tooth grin I knew I’d have nightmares about, “but now I’m really going to look. Come on, boy, give ‘em over.” He slapped his palm against the table between us.

Having refused Gale’s help, I doubted I had any other options, so I relented, placing the stack down. Griff wasted no time in pawing through the collection, his dirty hands leaving smudges that made my fingers twitch; I’d have to clean them thoroughly before putting them back into my Mind Home.

“I use my Assassins, Headsman, Execution Spells, and even Equality for removal,” I said, trying to distract myself, “which in turn buffs my Condors. Penitence helps with the Headsman and Execution, and Air Source –”

The man pulled a face, so I halted. “You don’t need to tell me shit comes out the ugly end, boy. I’ve been building decks for more years than you have under hairs.”

There was some relief in knowing his expression wasn’t about the composition of my deck. But still… “Under hairs?”

He pointed down with the card he held in one hand while examining the card in his other. It took me a moment to realize what he meant, and when I did, my cheeks heated. The man caught my embarrassment, Twins take him, and let out another chuckle.

“You’re a soft one to be running the darker side of Order. Not something you usually see.”

“Darker side?”

He raised an eyebrow at me, or at least I think he did – his long, unkempt hair always seemed to be obscuring part of his face. “You said it yourself: Headsman, Assassins, Execution. You’re not exactly using Knights and Paladins, now are you? How much Order and Air have you managed to get?”

“Five of Order,” I said, not sure what to think of his assessment. The cards he had named were ones I had been able to get a good deal on and had struck me as useful, nothing more. Perhaps I had thought Assassins possessed an exciting air of mystique when I was younger, but that was before I realized precisely what they did for a living, and it hadn’t affected my card buying decisions as an adult. “Three of Air. I’m planning to round out the ten with Life.”

“Life,” he said, practically spitting the word. “You pick that one out of a pot or find an elf you fancy?”

“Neither,” I said. It was an odd thing, having someone else not just examining but holding my most valuable possessions. After being rejected by other advisors, I didn’t want anyone thinking that I was making such an important choice flippantly. “I had the opportunity to use some Water source recently and discovered I liked the control aspect of their gameplay. However, I don’t currently have the funds to purchase some of their larger Souls, which, from my experience, are key to making the strategy work. I think I can make some more affordable options work with Life, including the natural pairing of their Source powers and explosion.” I had watched the elf ambassador Hull had dueled heal much of his deck back using his Life source. If I could then draw such cards with Order, any opponent, under a Dueling Dome or on a battlefield, would find me much harder to defeat.

He grunted, going back to his work, which was not the level of discussion I had been hoping to have. I decided to hold my tongue though, trusting that there must be some reason this man was available to us as an advisor.

When he finished, he didn’t release the stack, much to my annoyance. Instead, he kept it in one hand while drumming his fingers on the table with the other, gaze tilted up, as if the answer to my conundrum was written in fine script somewhere on the ceiling.

“Well?” I finally asked. It was that or physically force the cards out of his hand.

“Let’s look at the stalls,” he said, heaving himself up. For the first time, the guard moved, efficiently removing his chain from the wall hoop and attaching it to one around her wrist. Good thing she had, because Griff didn’t wait, marching forward as if he was unfettered.

I hurried after the pair, largely because he still had my deck.

I noticed that most of the class and advisors were clustered around the stalls at the far end of the hall. That included Esmi and Gale, just as he had threatened, and seeing them there, heads bent together to examine a card, got my blood up. However, the Chaos user headed toward those closer to the entrance, the ones I had looked at when first arriving.

“Why are those end booths more popular?” I asked as we threaded through the mostly empty advisor section.

“Bigger cards,” Griff answered without turning around. “Epics and Mythics. You’re not ready for that yet.”

If he had made that decision based on what I said about not being able to afford big Water cards, I supposed he had at least been listening. And perhaps it was best that I didn’t go near my brother again. I trusted Esmi and the bond we shared. Gale could flit around her all he wanted; it wouldn’t change anything.

A man and woman were in charge of the two stalls closest to the door, and they noticed our arrival right away – or, to be more specific, they noticed Griff, both eyeing him like they might a rabid dog. My advisor paid them no mind, nor the people he bumped into to get to the nearer case. One of them was Wenden, the paladin in training. He looked like he might have words with the person who pushed him, but when he saw who it was and the guard that followed, he settled on a glare and moved further to the side.

“Come here,” Griff rasped, waving me forward.

I came to stand beside him, trying not to worry about the looks both of us were now getting.

“What do you think?” he asked.

The stand he had chosen was the one for Air, which didn’t have as many as the Order booth beside it. However, there were still a good number of cards, and this time I got to look at all of them, instead of just taking a glance.

“I’m waiting,” Griff rasped, and I realized that I had been absorbed in the nine cards longer than I had planned.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked, feeling uneasy again now that I wasn’t focused on the cards. Would the people of the camp, and my classmates, treat me differently now that I was spending time with a Chaos user? Did they know Griff was a Chaos user? The man and woman behind the booth certainly seemed to, keeping their distance, and anyone could tell something was off from how he was chained.

“Your thoughts,” he answered. “Do you want these cards?”

Of course I wanted the cards. I wanted practically every card I saw. Who didn’t? What Griff had surely meant to say was if I thought these cards would be good in my deck.

“The Ring of Disruption Relic would pair nicely with my Execution and Headsman,” I told him. “If I had it, I might be able to cut Penitence, freeing up more room in my deck.” Also, I couldn’t help but wonder what changing my Air power would feel like if I cast it. Perhaps a raging woosh from head to fingertips as it rushed through me before knocking over my target.

“But…” Griff asked.

“But…” I echoed him, guessing where he was headed. Despite the benefits, the Relic wasn’t a perfect fit at my current level. “I only have three Air source. I’ll probably need those to summon my Condors and At–, ah, my Winged Knight.” If he caught the slip, he didn’t say anything. “Better to wait on something like this.”

“Good,” my advisor said. “Just because your parts might match with a goat or sheep’s, doesn’t mean you should, even if they’re looking at you kindly.”

“Could you… not use such crass examples?” I asked, horrified.

He leered at me sideways, a clumped mess of hair falling over his shoulder. “I have a feeling you’ll remember better this way, which is the point. What else?”

Though I worried about what other improper things he might say, I loved thought experiments like this and happily dove back in.

The other Relic, the Warhorn, would give my Master Assassin an alternate means of escape should he need it, and one that returned him to my hand instead of the bottom of my deck. However, he only needed such help when focused or devoted, his Stealth protecting him otherwise. Perhaps if I had more cards with Arrival abilities that I could cycle, like the Starling, the Warhorn would have more utility. But even if I purchased both, the pairing of the two didn’t feel like enough to justify the Warhorn’s inclusion.

Misstep, the Spell, was also rather pointless for me since I had multiple cards with Hunt already. Atrea would benefit from it, though, particularly when joined with her ability to devote to Fast Attack. However, that might be a sign that I should focus on upgrading her to gain that ability than getting a Spell that would benefit so few of my other cards.

First Blood tempted me somewhat, but with my highest attack being 3, I felt like I wouldn’t benefit from it enough. Flee I could see the point of, perhaps when paired with Hunting Hawk, to distract a strong defender with Hunt but then pull the Hawk to safety after. Again though, I didn’t need more Hunt, and pulling my Assassins away before they struck would be useless. Interestingly though, I recognized the Hunting Hawk as a card Gale had used some years back. His current Giant Hawk must be the upgraded version of it. What a monster it had become.

“If I wanted to stand by a mute,” Griff grated at my side, “I’d ask Stephi to take a stroll.”

“I’m thinking,” I replied, defensively.

“Fine. Do it so the rest of us can hear.”

“Readiness might work,” I said. “My Master Assassin is an incredible defender but then I can’t attack with him. With this Spell, I could.”

Griff eyed me. “Only once.”

“Once could be enough for a big kill.” The Chaos user didn’t argue, emboldening me, and why shouldn’t I be? I had placed top 3, after all, with a much cheaper deck than most. “That Raven Nightguard is incredible.” Despite my newfound confidence, I lowered my voice. I only saw one in the case, and I very much wanted it – if not now, then later.

He chuckled in that rasping way he had. “It should be. It’s Rare.”

“Obviously,” I said, not letting the man fluster me, “but their flexibility is wonderful. You can summon them when your opponent thinks you have no Source at the ready, at only one Source a piece. With three Air and three of them, I could be attacking with 9 Flying damage in a blink.” Just the thought of it made me giddy. What I could do with a card like that.

“In your matches here, your cards will already be summoned. What good are they to you then?”

I flinched. I had let myself forget about that part, but only to a degree. There were other benefits to the card I had noticed. “That may be, but they could be good to keep in hand or even in reserve as a surprise. They could let you get a devoted source back to ready in a single turn if you haven’t summoned source recently, and if you see that you need an Air Source Explosion, they could let you stock one, if all your source are currently in play. You could even do two Source Explosions against one foe,” I realized. Now I really wanted to use this card.

“Well argued, boy,” he said, favoring me with that grin of his. I think he meant the ghastly sight to be encouraging, and I tried my best to take it as such. “However,” he said, and my heart sank a bit. “Just because a card is good, that doesn’t always mean it’s good for your deck. Let’s look at some more.”

I followed after him as we made our way over to the Order card stand. My desire for the Raven Nightguard wasn’t diminished, but his statement made sense – all the more so for not being framed in some disgusting analogy. Perhaps he was actually kindly, listening to my request, or perhaps the change was just part of his Chaotic nature.

“What about these?” he said, gesturing to the cards in front of us.

I was just as eager to see this group, if not more so than the Air cards. Instead of being displayed in sections of Spells, Souls, and Relics, going from Common, to Uncommon, to Rare, like the last, this arrangement seemed to focus on cards that would be paired together, or similar types.

Even though there were more cards here, I judged them to largely not be for me. My deck was in no way set up for swarm, which was the focus of many cards – either creating it or strengthening it. The Rampart intrigued me for dueling Gale’s Flyers, but that was about all from the first area, since none of the token generators or formations seemed right.

The seller here was a bit more bold, a woman that looked nearly as fearsome as the one-armed advisor who had directed me to Griff. She had her arms crossed tightly and brows just as close together, but the words she directed toward me only had a hint of strain.

“Those Warhorses are standard issue for the cavalry. You’d look fine atop a steed like that, young master, I assure you.”

My eyes roamed back to the two Mount cards. I had been talking with Esmi about this just the other day, but after seeing the Grand Marshal’s Elder Griffon, if I had a Mount, I wanted more than a simple horse.

“You have a marvelous collection,” I said, hoping a bit of flattery would smooth out whatever trouble my association with Griff might bring. If these were among the only card sellers in the Camp, I certainly didn’t want to alienate them during my time here. “Unfortunately, my deck isn’t personal combat focused, so I have no need for a Mount at this time.”

“That so?” she said, eyeing me up and down. “In that case -- Hey now! What do you think you’re doing?”

The woman rushed to the side, and I turned to see that a dwarf had managed to fit himself between the wall and stall, and was now behind it, going through some cards that weren’t on display – maybe duplicates, maybe something better. I craned to try and see, but the shopkeep was having none of it, yanking the box out of his stony grasp and bustling him back the way he had come, though he seemed to be having trouble fitting through again.

“What do you think she was going to say?” Griff’s ragged voice inquired.

“If I’m not attacking on the frontlines…” I replied, fairly certain I knew, “I could use a Bodyguard.” My gaze swung back to the one card that interested me even more than the Rampart and had ever since I first entered the building.

“And do you agree?” Griff asked.

Unlike the Rampart or even the Life Spell Canopy Climber, both which needed to be paired with a Soul to work, the Master Shieldbearer could protect me against Flyers all by himself. That was because a Bodyguard would fight whoever attacked me, whether it was Flying or not. Also, its Armor 2 was a near perfect counter to Flurry, which I suspected Gale had somewhere in his deck.

“I do,” I said. “Not only is it a great defender, but its low Order cost means it will be easier to play with a dual or tri-Source deck.” Using Order, Air, and Water during some of my matches had shown me how difficult it could be at times to get out cards that required three source symbols of a given type since you then needed to have two of that source at the ready.

“Spells will shred it to pieces,” Griff countered.

“I have a plan for that.” It was a plan I wasn’t entirely sure on, but I was nearly certain it would work.

“And how are you faring, Basil?” a strong woman’s voice asked.

I turned to find General Edaine standing nearby. Unlike others, she seemed to have no problem with Griff, though the Chaos user had his lips pulled back in a silent snarl, glaring at her from out of his mane of hair.

“Well enough,” I said, stepping between the two. I had no idea what their history might be and had no interest in finding out now, but I was very glad to see her. “I was hoping you could answer something for me. Something quite important, in fact.”

“And what might that be?” she asked, looking mildly intrigued.

“The King’s Artifact Room that we’ll soon have access to for our tournament prize winnings. Do you know if it contains any Life Source generators for fabricators?”

The general considered me, and I tried to project only earnest curiosity. “Last I was there, yes. He had a full range of such crystals, and a few of Life, if I recall correctly.”

“Thank you,” I said, bowing to her. “That is most helpful.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, waiting a moment to see if I would explain myself and then departing when I did not.

“Hard to advise if I don’t know what I’m working with,” Griff said, his pained voice seeming to die a little more each time he spoke. “What was that about?”

“I have an empty fabricator,” I admitted to him. I could have told the same to Edaine and probably should have, but I was still tight-lipped about anything concerning Ticosi. She’d find out soon enough in our training anyway.

Griff whistled, or at least tried to; it came out more of a hiss. “Must be nice being noble.”

I almost told him that wasn’t how I got it but then I realized I didn’t want him asking where I had, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Those Deepkin are going to be the death of me, Fate mark my words,” the shopkeep grumbled when she finally returned.

“My dear lady,” I asked, having prepared a small speech while waiting, “I realize prices fluctuate, but what is the going rate for –”

“That’s enough of that,” she said, lifting a hand and not bothering to add the ‘young master’, I noticed. “There’s no bargaining in the War Camp. No haggling. Prices are what they are, for all to know, set as the Sun King and his morning ritual.”

“No… bargaining?” I asked, feeling somewhat lightheaded.

My reaction must have amused her because she cracked a grin. “That’s right. We use the rule of three and recommend you do the same with all trades among your fellows while here. You know it?”

I nodded, somewhat numbly. Three Commons was the going rate for one Uncommon, three Uncommons for a Rare, and so on up the chain, for everything but Legendary. But there was always room for adjustment: a silver coin here, a standard shard there, based on what was in demand, how useful a card actually was, and most important, how much the shopkeep could tell you wanted it.

“Good,” she said, holding up one of the wooden merit tokens. “These are worth an Uncommon each.”

“So much?” I said, and I know my eyes must have bulged.

“That’s right,” she said, her smile opening a touch more. “War Camp is a good place to be, eh?”

“But what if I only want to buy a Common?”

“You better buy three!” she said with a laugh, confirming that they didn’t provide change for such exchanges.

“And you only trade for merits, nothing else?” I reached into my pocket to rub the two I had together; I had received the second just this morning, as Edaine had said we would. They weren’t enough for anything I wanted, except for maybe the Readiness Spell, which I wasn’t fully convinced about.

She leaned on the glass counter. “Young master, I think we both know what makes the world go round, don’t we now?”

I moved my hand from my pocket to my wrist pouch, pulling out my extra cards.

“Hey now,” Griff coughed, “what are those?”

“Universal exchange,” the shopkeep said, seeming to have totally forgotten about the Chaos user, hungry eyes only on what I held. “One other thing you should know: card trades are the same, one for one if it’s like to like or the rule of three, always. Get me?”

At first I didn’t understand why she would repeat herself, but then it hit me, and I caught myself on the case, staring at the cards underneath my hand.

“You’re saying that I can trade you a Rare for a Rare and then come back and trade that same Rare for something else?”

“That’s right,” she said, opening her arms to match her smile, her gesture taking in not just her booth but all of them. “Experiment as much as you want. That’s what War Camp is for.”

My eyes skittered over all the cards I had previously dismissed. I could try them. That had been one of the hardest things about building my deck, trying to guess how a card might fit with all the rest. A regular store would rebuy a card, of course, but if it was the same one you purchased the card from, never for the full value.

This… this was a dream…

The shopkeep was laughing now, pointing at me. “Aye, he’s got it. You seeing this, Harald?” she said to the man in the booth beside hers. “We just got ourselves a regular.”

As with all dreams, when my feet touched back down to reality, things weren’t quite as glossy as they had been a moment before. The only cards I knew without a doubt that I wished to trade were my two Common Rust Spells, and those weren’t near enough for the Rare Master Shieldbearer. I had other cards I was also considering parting with – the Uncommon Rise to the Challenge I had won off of Losum, potentially some of the Uncommon Headsman, maybe a Penitence – but I wasn’t sure on those yet.

“I imagine your stock changes quite a lot,” I said, hoping some more information would help with my choice.

“That it does,” she agreed, which meant that anything I traded her could be gone the next day – the next hour.

There was another card I could use, one I had rarely found a use for in match. But the thought of parting with it I found troubling.

“My deck, please,” I said to Griff, and the man grudgingly handed it over. I sifted through the cards until I found the one on my mind, Microburst.

An Epic would easily buy me what I wanted, but it was also a great card – the card I had used to best Hull. However, even then, it had been tough for me to rally the resources necessary to cast. Costing 6, as much as Equality but with Air, was a challenge for me since I didn’t have nearly as many of that source type. I also didn’t have many Souls it felt like a worthwhile target for. Of course, the problem with source would be nonexistent if I came into the match with the majority of them already summoned like Edaine had described. But that would raise a new issue: my Condors would be unfed by the destruction of other Souls and so would only have a measly 2 attack each – hardly worth it to spend 6 source on to get an extra 4 damage – and I didn’t think I could pre-charge the Condors using my allies’ Souls or my own. I could use Microburst to strike twice with my Master Assassin, which could be very good, but my regular Assassins nearly always died when attacking and my Headsman would only benefit if multiple enemy Souls were devoted, which I doubted would be the case if we both came to the field prepped. I could force one enemy that way with a double Penitence cast, but that would require only a single Headsman follow up attack to remove, not two.

So, whether I found myself in a duel or the battlefield, Microburst felt less than ideal. In contrast, after facing Ticosi, I knew I needed greater protection, which was precisely what a Bodyguard was designed for.

Griff gave a phlegmy cough, and the sound made me reconsider. Was I seeing this all the wrong way? Should I focus on getting an Air crystal for my empty fabricator and those Raven Nightguard, along with some other Souls, to increase my attacking power? Perhaps if I tried a more aggressive deck, I would find it to my liking.

“Going to sell your only Epic on your first day of trade?” the Chaos user rasped – apparently the cough had just been a precursor to him talking. “That’s like spending your whole purse on the first street walker you meet. Keep walking. You’ll find more.”

The shopkeep shushed Griff. “Hush now. Let him do what he wants.”

I stared at the Spell, which shimmered and even hinted at movement as only the high-rarity cards could. Hull had given it to me, an act that I know had been far outside his normal way of living. That night, we had drunk together and spoken of our innermost fears – I had, at least. Could I really trade away something with such precious memories attached to it?

“How many of that Master Shieldbearer do you have?” I asked. I would normally never tip my hand to a card trader, but if all she said was true, it didn’t matter.

“Just the two, and I’m the only one with them right now,” she answered, which hadn’t been what I had wanted to hear.

“Can you hold cards for a day or two, perhaps for some sort of collateral?”

She was shaking her head before I finished. “That would be more trouble than its worth for all involved. The point is for everyone to get a fair shake at different combinations, not to lock anything down.”

I looked back at the Epic, torn. I truly believed that I had found the pieces I needed over the past few days to create a solid core for my new deck, one that could survive. I had always known that would mean getting rid of some of my previous build; it was inevitable. But was there a better way? I flipped to the pair of Headsman. While I would have preferred to get both Master Shieldbearers, or one and a Raven, I could start with just one Bodyguard and see how it worked.

I was going to ask Griff if he had any further thoughts when a hand slapped into my chest.

“Here.”

I turned to see none other than Hull standing beside me. He was flushed and covered in sweat.

“Did you run the whole way here?” I asked.

“Never mind that,” he said. “Take the card.”

I did as he said and nearly dropped it when I turned it around.

“Hull,” I said, and didn’t get more than that out. I had just been talking about this card in class and now here it was, in my hand.

“I owe you…” Hull answered, trailing off. Taking my eyes from the card to focus on him, it quickly became obvious that he didn’t like how others were listening in. I knew what he was referring to without him saying it, though: the Epic Night Terror I had refused to take back after the nastiness with Ticosi. “I owe you,” Hull said again, shoulders hunching forward, “and it looked like you needed an Epic for something. So, use it.”

“Are you two rolling in Epics?” Griff rasped beside me, barely audible. “What is this?”

“Who is that?” Hull asked me, giving the Chaos user a deeply skeptical look

I, however, was having trouble concentrating on much other than the Revenant Lord. It was so powerful. Ridiculously so. Should I start cultivating Death? If the Sun King had generators for Life, he must surely have them for Death, too, wouldn’t he?

“Basil? Basil?”

“Sorry,” I said, turning to Hull. I was fairly sure he had been the one saying my name. “I was thinking.”

“He does that,” Griff said.

“Don’t I know it,” Hull grumbled.

“There is a certain gravity of choice involved,” I told them both, but even as I said it, I knew what I should do. Someone in the army probably already cultivated Death – multiple someones, more than likely, if they were professional soldiers – and this card could be devastatingly effective against the orcish hordes. Better for them to have it now and have time to train with it, and for me to also have something I could use immediately.

I couldn’t believe how hard it was for me to put the card on the counter, considering I had only received it a few moments before, but I did manage the deed. And, as soon as my hand was gone, the shopkeep happily scooped it up.

“I will take that card,” a voice almost as cold as death said from just past Griff.

Angling forward, I saw that none other than Gerad, wrapped in his usual precise finery, had joined us by the stall.

The shopwoman jerked at his words, also spooked. “Of course, my prince. Merit or trade.”

“I have one merit,” Gerad said, not even bothering to produce it.

“So, an Epic for trade…?” the shopkeep ventured.

“I have no Epics I wish to trade,” Gerad said, starting to frown.

The woman licked her lips, looking to us for support, but I was just as out of my depth as her. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen the prince buy anything himself, not even the Mythic card he wanted off Hull so badly.

“Then I’m sorry, my prince,” the shopkeep said, sounding almost like she was begging. “There’s nothing I can do.”

The prince looked like he would unleash one of his nasty retorts at being refused, but by some miracle, he refrained. “You will hold the card, giving me time to find some dredge for you in trade.”

“I…” Her eyes flicked to me, likely thinking of the conversation we had just had on the topic. “I – I can’t –”

He leaned forward dangerously. “You will hold that card, woman. Treledyne exists because of the grace of my father, and so does everything in this camp, including this hall, and everyone and everything in it. Without him and what he has created, the orcs would have slaughtered you generations ago, and if by the grace of Fate you had survived, you would not have two cards to rub together, let alone a stall full of them. Has our city fallen so far that you cannot see what you owe him and his line? Do you wish to further deepen that fissure and bring Chaos into our midst?”

The mention of Chaos had me glancing at Griff, but he seemed surprisingly placid about the whole affair. Perhaps there was only so far one could fall, and once there, there was little left to worry oneself about.

“Yes – I mean, no, my prince,” the woman stuttered. “I will keep the card for you. By Fate I swear it.”

He watched her like a viper watching and prey, a long, tense beat, and then departed.

“Ass,” Hull growled under his breath, and I concurred.

“Ah,” I said, feeling badly for her. “Two of the Master Shieldbearers, if you please?”

“What?” she said, turning to me with glassy eyes as if she had just awoken from some nightmare. “Yes, that’s right,” she remembered with a shake. “Sorry, young master.” With jerky movement she pulled both from the case and laid them down on the glass counter, followed by six merit tokens.

“I believe it should just be three,” I said, taking the top of the stack of merits and the two cards. Despite the recent awkwardness, I felt absolutely overjoyed to have the two Rares in my possession. And this was just the beginning.

“Yes, that’s right,” the woman said, collecting the remainder absently, her attention twitching toward the way the prince had left. Involuntarily it seemed, she clutched the Epic card to her chest, as if to reassure herself it was still there.

“What was that about?” Hull asked, when we backed away from the sellers.

“I haven’t the foggiest,” I answered truthfully. “Maybe –”

“Candidates!” Edaine’s voice boomed through the long metal room, and I quickly located her standing by the other exit to the hall at the opposite end. “We will now engage in a practical assessment using your current decks, pre-summoned. Start gathering your source.”

With her command in place, she headed out the door. My fellow students followed, most first sharing last words with their advisor before departing. Due to my continued great fortune, Griff grabbed my arm, surely sullying the garment.

“Swap in the Master Shieldbearers for the Headsman,” he said, hoarsely.

I nodded to him, trying not to think about the grime and oils he was pressing into the threads. “I will, thank you.” Then I realized that I now had not one, but two adults to talk about deck building with. And Griff actually knew my deck composition! It was like having Tipfin back, but hopefully much better. “I’d like to talk with you after about how it went, as well as discuss other purchases and trades. Is that allowed?”

He huffed a laugh, his voice a whisper by now. “Oh, we’re just getting started, little Hintal. Ask Edaine when you’re ready. She’ll tell you where to find me.”

While I did not approve of that nickname, I was glad to hear that this wouldn’t be our only encounter.

“Thank you,” I repeated and meant it. “Until we meet again.”

Once more, I was behind my classmates, so I quickly moved around him and Stephi, who I nodded to, though she gave me no reply. I began summoning sources as I went, and in only a few steps, Hull was matching my pace.

“What did I miss?” he asked, tossing a Nether overhead.

“Quite a lot,” I said, unsure where to start. “We spoke of fighting on the battlefield with our decks already summoned and a host of other things that related to that. You really should have been there. Why weren’t you?”

He shrugged again, in that way I was finding increasingly annoying. “I got caught up.”

“In your room?” I asked, disbelievingly.

“Sort of,” he said, in a way that was nowhere near convincing. “Besides, we’ve already done this sort of dueling a few times now. It should be no trouble.”

“What do you mean, ‘a few times’?” What sort of life had he been living after the tournament?

His eyes widened a touch, but he didn’t answer.

“Hull…” I said, feeling more than a little hurt. “How can you not trust me? After everything?” We were out of the advisor and trading hall now, walking through camp, headed no doubt to one of the training areas with seating. I had nearly all my Source floating above me, four Order and three Air, but as I went to pull for the last one, nothing came out. I stopped, concentrating on what I was doing.

“What’s wrong?” Hull asked, stopping with me.

I closed my eyes, pulling gently and then with greater and greater force at my heart, but for all I strained, nothing happened. I opened my eyes, and I looked up at my friend in cold dread. “I’m missing an Order Source.”