Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

“The king will see you now.”

I stood up from the plush armchair I had been waiting in, quickly tucking the cards I had been distracting myself with back behind my ear. The only other occupant in the circular area was the one who had spoken: an aged woman in yellow and cream robes with half moon spectacles perched across her nose. She sat, bent backed, behind a large desk made of marble, a series of quills and parchment laid out before her in well-organized rows. She also had a half dozen Order source floating above her and was the first clerk of flesh and blood I had encountered so far in my visit.

The Palace of Treledyne was enormous, with thick pillars supporting vaulted ceilings, sweeping tapestries of geometric design, burbling fountains, and countless sculptures – sometimes in alcoves, other times freestanding – made of stained wood, smoothed stone, or burnished copper. But its most dominant feature by far was its central grand stairway that was as wide as most high-street thoroughfares. It traveled ever upward with no switchbacks, its stone steps covered in a vibrant yellow rug the color of sunflower petals, young workers always on hand with stiff brushes to rid it of any stains travelers may leave behind. I had been sure to wipe my boots down before entering and took some pride in the fact that no one had needed to scrub in my wake.

Each floor, the stairway plateaued before ascending again, which served as a point of rest but also a checkpoint for guards and clerks, all of whom had been summoned cards so far. Without the right documentation or password, a visitor could not ascend further. However, the key phrase the king had told me when last I saw him, ‘sugarblossom’, had seen me through all twelve floors and even now, was allowing me access into his throne room.

I paused at the large entry doors, the heavy brass ring that served as the handle cool in my hand. Now that I was leaving the living clerk, I felt more at liberty to speak than when I had been waiting. That, or perhaps I was just nervous to meet the king alone.

“The Souls below. They are yours?”

She didn’t so much as pause in the writing she was doing, her penmanship nearly as beautiful as that which graced Twins-wrought cards. “The other clerks, yes. The guards are maintained by another.”

I wondered with passing interest where that other person was. Probably somewhere an enemy would not easily find. Though, after watching how casually the king had handled an assassination attempt, the palace guards felt more like show to me now than necessity.

“Is there any strain to have so many Souls so far away from you?” When I had asked Griff how I could possibly manage to defeat someone as card rich as the prince, he told me, Take every opportunity, and this seemed like one to me now.

The scritching of her quill ceased, and she looked at me with eyes narrowed behind her spectacles. “As a Hintal, your father can provide you with such information at a time that will not keep the most important person in the kingdom waiting.”

I nodded my head to cede the point and hide my blush of embarrassment. It seemed I had misjudged the moment. By the Twins’ grace, the door opened smoothly, allowing me to step inside and shut it without any delay. However, seeing the room within slowed me considerably, my eyes darting to and fro to take it all in. Having no levels above it allowed the ceiling to be three times as high as the previous floors – I could have summoned the Sea Titan with room to spare if I were still using Water source. Chandeliers hung suspended from the great height, making a line from the entry door to the king’s throne, which stood high-backed and inlaid in gold, some fifty paces away. Behind it, instead of a rear wall, the space opened out into the sky without glass or railing as a barrier. Clouds hung there, suspended in the blue, seeming touchable if one trusted their balance at the edge of the flooring. Far to the left, I caught sight of the Library of Istraago, the kestrels that winged to and from it little more than specks due to the great distance.

Wind whipped through the room, stirring the fringe on my pants and cuffs – I was wearing the most fashionable of my outfits. Taking a breath, the crisp air and height put me at ease, like I was cultivating on Pirtash Peak. If I did somehow become king one day, this throne room was actually to my taste.

The king stood beside his throne – floated, actually – hands clasped behind his back, looking over the city below.

“Ah, Hintal,” he said without turning around, his voice rich and steady. “Here to claim your Artifact prize.”

I approached him with more than a little trepidation, my boots squeaking on the polished marble floor. “Yes, my liege. Thank you again for allowing me to take time with this decision. I am in your debt.”

He turned in the air without moving any muscle I could see, the long cloak he often wore caught by a passing breeze, so that it snapped out into the expanse behind him.

“Do not offer yourself up so easily, young Hintal. Especially when you do not know what may be asked of you.”

Being in his presence caused me a mix of emotions, the last year having taken my once-ordered loyalty and respect for my liege and fracturing it. On the one hand, I vehemently objected to how he had treated Hull and felt similarly about what he had let become of the low quarter. Also, Gerad’s nature indicated that even those who did receive the king’s attention were not necessarily the better for it. And yet there was no denying the pure power he radiated every time I saw him, his eyes flecked with the rainbow shards of diamond. He was a living human with a Legendary Soul, who had successfully shielded Treledyne from years of orc raids. What’s more, if our history teacher Castoba was to be believed, the king was not just the protector of this city but its very founder. Where would humanity be without such a leader? Should I be trying to emulate him or overthrow him?

“Did you have something specific in mind?” I asked instead of pursuing that treasonous line of thinking.

Hull’s father quirked a smile. “I do. In fact, it is why I allowed you a second audience, so we could speak in a more private fashion.”

Hearing that the king had not provided me this extension solely for my own benefit wasn’t entirely a surprise but it did dampen my mood. That was until he pulled a diamond-bordered card from beneath the ermine stole he wore across his shoulders and pressed the treasure into my hands.

“What do you see?”

“See?” I echoed, having a hard time concentrating on anything beyond the card itself.

Did the king have this as a ward against Gerad’s Kitsayna? And were these the sort of abilities I could expect from my Master Shieldbearers after a few elevations? Protection against the hand and destruction effects other Legendaries so often had?

“With your Seersight,” he commanded.

My eyes jerked up to meet the king’s. The only people I had told about my upgraded Soul were Esmi and Hull, and I couldn’t imagine either of them informing someone who would pass that knowledge onto the king

The look he gave me was almost pitying. “Who do you think the Tournament officials report their findings to, young Hintal?”

“Of course, my liege,” I said, embarrassed yet again. The man who had seen to me at the Coliseum had even said he would be cataloging the change in my Soul.

“Now,” the king said, tapping the card. “Tell me. What can it become?”

I had already used my ability once this morning to help Hull with raising his cards – he was chomping at the bit to level his deck after his brutal loss to Gerad – and I had never tried to use my Seersight on a Legendary. However, I couldn’t very well refuse the king.

I stared at the card, focusing on it, but the ghostly possibilities I was used to seeing did not appear. I strained, hoping effort or raw determination would summon them, but the silence stretched between us. As it did, I became uncomfortably aware that I was doing exactly what the elderly clerk had warned me not to: I was making the king wait.

With a gasp, I stopped, my free hand moving to massage my temples that had started to pound.

“I’m sorry, my liege, but I do not see anything. Not for a card that is already the highest of rarities.”

“Pity,” he said, plucking the Legendary away. “I thought one of you living Hintals might finally be of use to me, but alas, that day has apparently yet to come.”

Like my earlier interaction with the king, I was slow to catch the meaning of his words, and when I did, I was both offended and confused. While I was far from pleased with most of my family at the moment, to hear their years of service dismissed so…

“Father is captain of your city guard,” I said, frowning, “and Gale is –”

The king looked up from the card, and as he did, I swear the lights in the room dimmed – even that which came in from the sun outside, as impossible as I knew that to be. Under the weight of his cold stare, I felt more in danger of death than ever I had when Ticosi’s knife had been using my belly as a road to my spine.

My throat clamped in fright, yet there was something else to what the king had said. “Dollan…?” I ventured. “Wasn’t he one of the first Hintals?”

When the king didn’t immediately smite me from the spot or respond, I dared push my inquiry further.

“Would you be willing to gift me my ancestor instead of the Artifact that I am owed?”

“Some backbone in you now? And a barterer at heart?” The lighting of the room eased back to normal, and the king drifted away from me. “When did that develop, I wonder? No, I shall not make that trade with you. This card’s value vastly outsrips the rare you have earned. However, be of use to my son during your training and beyond, and perhaps someday it may find its way to you.”

Even though the king was no longer fully facing me, he caught the brief look of unease that passed over my features at his mention of Gerad.

“The idea does not please you?”

“I – um –” I floundered. The king was floating back my way, and I didn’t think I could afford to annoy him a second time. If only he was asking me to support his other son, I would have no trouble with the request. I didn’t dare say that though; my parents had made it abundantly clear to me the social perils children born outside of wedlock could represent, and so I had no plans to mention Hull in such a way, not until the king chose to publicly acknowledge him.

“Were you not impressed with Gerad’s performance the other day?” the king asked, coming to a stop before me. He was hovering much higher than before, so I had to crane my neck back uncomfortably to see more than his belt, which was crafted from slick teal scales. “I am told that he decimated his opposition while the Twins were watching.”

“He did,” I admitted, and then quite foolishly added. “He couldn’t have asked for better draws.”

“That is the way of such engagements. Fortune may steer it as he wishes.” I knew a trace of bitterness had found its way into my words, but I hadn’t expected to hear an echo of the same from the king.

Gazing up at him in such close proximity, I noticed he had less wrinkles around his eyes than my father, yet the sheer force he emanated threatened to push me down to insignificance. It seemed impossible that my words could even reach him.

“Have you participated often in Apotheosis, my liege?”

“Multiple times in the past,” he confirmed, casually drifting higher to fix a chandelier candle that was leaning a touch out of line with the rest. “It is my least favored form of combat.”

That was a surprise. “Despite the boons that the Twins offer?” Hull had told me about the image he had seen of his Night Terror raised to Mythic, and since that telling, I was itching to participate in an Apotheosis of my own when I was prepared enough.

“Gifts always come with a price,” he said, catching my eyes from on high. “I would have thought you learned that today.”

“Just so, my liege,” I answered with a nod. The king’s request had indeed shown me that, and so too had seeing the demoted version of Hull’s card.

“Now, select what you came here for.” He tossed the square vault key onto the floor, which revolved into a door. “Quickly. This audience has already been overlong.”

I walked with speed into the holding space as soon as the entryway was stable, the stale air an abrupt change from the throne room. Fortunately, the time I had been given to decide meant I already knew exactly what I wanted. I went to the Uncommon section of the vault, choosing first a small calcified piece of source that was half pearlescent marble, half dark green. Its surface was pebbled, and my fingers that held it felt alternatingly calm and prickly with energy. There were larger crystals in the rare area of the king’s vault that I had almost chosen when last I was here, but now that I had 9 natural source to my name, this would more than suffice. In addition, after exploring the lesser areas during my previous visit, I realized that I could likely get more value by picking two uncommon artifacts instead of a single one labeled rare. The other item I had in mind wasn’t far off, and I snatched it up, dashing my way out of the vault.

Exiting into the throne room, I found the king back where I had first seen him, staring out of the palace. I was no sculptor like my brother Randel, though I had tried my hand at a few simple pots. What must it be like to look upon one’s creation when it was an entire society that you had made? Was he pleased with what he saw, or like my own experience, was he disappointed that what he brought into the world didn’t match the image of it in his mind?

“I hope you don’t find it presumptuous,” I said, holding out what I had taken. “But I would prefer these artifacts to one of rare quality.”

He looked over his shoulder at me in profile, which accentuated his strong nose. “A barterer through and through. Very well.”

My heart swelled, glad I had taken the risk.

The king snapped his fingers, and the shimmering doorway of the vault collapsed upon itself, returning the form of a fist-sized metal cube. With a second snap, the cube flew unerringly across the room, straight to his hand.

I tucked my own artifacts away, and as I did, my fingertips brushed over a folded piece of paper. I hadn’t planned on using one of my penned invites today, but now that I was here, why shouldn’t I? The invitation was half out of my lapel when I began to reconsider. Hull’s father cut such a regal figure floating there, the sky and the city he had built his backdrop, that my mother’s gala suddenly felt like a paltry thing to mention in his presence.

Thinking of our brief conversation over dinner at the Tournament, I said instead, “Have you found your new mountain to ascend, my liege?”

He chuckled, which I hadn’t been expecting. “Without a doubt, young Hintal. It is in motion as we speak. Now, see yourself out,” he said, gesturing backward without turning. “Add something to my kingdom if you can.”

The dismissal couldn’t have been clearer, and I left the room with all haste before he decided it would be quicker to just drop me out the viewing wall.

It wasn’t until I had the solid wood door closed behind me that I took a full breath of relief. No new petitioners were in the waiting area – council members on lower floors saw to concerns that the regular citizenry might have – and the clerk did not raise her head from her work as I walked by. The design of the palace meant that I had a long stroll ahead of me to reach the top of the stairway. There was a railing to my left where I could look over and see the staircase and the lower levels, while to my right was the occasional doorway. These rooms were said to be the royal suites of the king and the queen, as well as Gerad, and the space between the entryways made it obvious how enormous each one was. Marching along, I became idly curious as to whether the king ever used the stairs himself or just flew up to his throne room and entered the top floor that way.

Walking past a door of ruby-inlaid mahogany, I started, realizing that to either side of it were guards in armor. I hadn’t seen them at first because their gear matched the marble walls and floor almost perfectly. Even odder, looking at them now, they were cards, but ones I could not see the information of.

They must have had some sort of ability that obscured their details to perception effects like mine, which only made me more intrigued by them. But why would such a pair be here at all?

The answer my father would have said was that someone important was within. It wouldn’t be the king, and the last I had seen Gerad, he was using our afternoon of freedom from Camp to take the three deepkin, of all people, into town. It was possible that their group had made their way back here, but if so, I couldn’t imagine the prince using anyone but his own Mythic or Legendary Souls as his guards.

That left only one possibility.

I looked down at the invitation that I still held. My mother had surely mailed a full complement to the palace about our upcoming event, but just because a letter was sent, that didn’t always mean it was received by the intended party. And, sometimes an added nudge was needed to convince a person to attend.

With one hand raised to show I meant no harm, I stepped closer to the door. The heads of both guards swiveled toward me in eerie synchrony but they did not attack. Griff’s advice echoed in my mind as I crouched down on my knees, and in a single motion, slid the invite under the door. No spears came at me from the sides, nor did I wish them to, so I backed away the moment the deed was done. When I was at a safe distance, I nodded to the guards out of habit, and then continued to make my way to the stairway crown.

The king likely would not be in attendance for my duel with Gale, but if Fortune favored me, perhaps the queen would. And if someone of her stature bore witness to it, then no one would be able to dispute the legitimacy of the outcome. Of course, I still had to win the damnable thing, but if I did, Esmi could have the wedding of her dreams, and that was the mountain I needed to see climbed first before I worried about all the rest.