"A Monarch is a Summoner's best friend! Just… don't set them free to test that."

- Grand Summoner Myrek

The dragon burst upwards, expanding into the darkness of the room. He roared, the sound nowhere near as deafening as what had just caused Percy’s ears to bleed.

“Curse that sound!” he screamed. “Not only does it wake me from my slumber, but it taunts me immediately after I’ve lost?! Well, I’m done waiting for my useless servants to stop it. I will destroy it!”

Silvaroth swiped at a nearby wall, scouring chunks and sending them flying into the lava. Percy was left untouched. He pointed at the boy writhing in pain as he clutched the sides of his head, cold fury causing his clawed hand to shake.

“You!” he snarled. “I can’t recall the last time I lost in such a humiliating fashion! I don’t know if I’ve ever lost like that at all!” His face drew close to the spasming human. “I said you could leave, yes. And you can live, true. But you won’t be telling others of this embarrassment!”

He roared, flames welling up within his throat. The light danced off his scales, a sight Percy might’ve appreciated if he hadn’t been in so much pain, or anywhere near as close to it as he was.

“I’ll take your tongue!” the dragon hissed, prying Percy’s mouth open with a wickedly sharp talon. It was hot, nearly boiling from the lava Silvaroth had been concealed in. Percy flinched, instinctively grasping at the scaled hand and attempting to force it away before it burned his face to bits. The parchment in his hand made contact with the dragon, and hell broke loose.

Another explosion rocked the room. But this one was silent. A sphere of force erupted out from Percy’s hand, sending lava splashing against obsidian walls in waves that folded back on themselves, threatening to melt the boy alive. But that too was pushed away by another blast.

The parchment pulsed with light, the eruptions of power coming faster and faster, and the dragon pulled back. His body moved, but his claw did not. He was stuck to the hand that held him.

“What?! Magic?!” he roared. “Forget our deal! I’ll kill you!”

His jaws opened wide, Silvaroth snapped forward to bite off the sorcerer’s head. And from the shadows, kobolds watched as their master—the giant dragon who had slept for a hundred years—vanished.

Percy sat up. He felt his face, searching for the burns that should’ve been there from the dragon’s superheated claws, or from the lava he was sure had sprayed down toward him. But his hands found nothing. No cuts, burns, or even bruises. All he felt was the metal of the silver gauntlet as he touched his skin.

He looked at it and noticed that it was projecting a message into the air for him to read.

Congratulations! You have bound Silvaroth, Slumbering Avarice to your will.

To my will?

He waved his hand through the message, dismissing it. And it was then that Percy noticed the complete absence of the aforementioned dragon. Without him in it, the room felt… empty.

Empty but for the shadows, and the single piece of parchment that sat by his foot, no longer magically welded to his fingers. He picked it up. On one side—the side that had been facing up—concentric circles spun endlessly, runes Percy couldn’t understand filling the space between them. Lines spread out from the center circle, connecting to squares and triangles that also rotated, but in the opposing direction. More runes filled each shape. Some seemed to form words, while others were merely individual symbols taking up all the space they could, contained by the geometrically shaped boundary around them.

He turned the card over, fascinated by the sudden appearance on the back of it. He almost dropped it when he saw what was on the front. The visage of a dragon stared back at him as it crawled down a rocky cliff, a sinister portent to the devastation that would soon befall the Victorian-style village below. Written across the top of the card in a savage script—as though carved by the dragon itself—was his name.

Silvaroth, Slumbering Avarice

“Bound to my will, huh? In the form of a playing card? Seems… vaguely familiar.” He examined the card in its entirety.

Silvaroth, Slumbering Avarice

Cost: 50 Loyalty

Monarch

Mana contract not formed.

Affinities: Fire, Wind, Shadow

Aversions: Light, Earth, Water

Do not stare at me as though I’m a piece of art, snack! The familiar voice boomed in Percy’s mind as he processed the monster’s text. He jumped, dropping the card and looking around.

You would dare drop me?! Silvaroth’s incredulous voice sounded again, and Percy looked around before realizing what was happening.

“Are you… How are you talking to me?” he asked the air.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Pah, the dragon spat. You may have trapped me in this enchantment—temporarily, might I add—but I am not so weak as to simply be controlled. Your magic, however, is far more formidable than I would’ve anticipated.

“Yeah I didn’t even mean to do that,” Percy replied as he squatted down to retrieve the card. “I also didn’t think about what might happen to the monsters that were turned into these cards. I’ll, uh, store you safely for now, I guess.”

No! Silvaroth screamed. Release me!

“I don’t know how!” Percy said to the dragon as he popped open the box at his waist and slid the new card in. “Honestly, I don’t!”

The dragon snarled, I’ll find a way out. And when I do—

“I’ll be right there helping you,” the boy interrupted. “It doesn’t sit right with me to imprison you like this, even if you tried to kill me.”

Silvaroth went silent after that, and a minute after the conversation, as Percy walked around the cavernous room searching for an exit again, another message floated out of his gauntlet.

Silvaroth would like to form a contract with you.

“Oh. What’s that mean?” Percy asked, pulling the dragon out of his deck box and looking into the only eye visible in the card art.

I feel pressured by your enchantment to give you access to my mana, the dragon answered. It’s only a minor irritant, like an itch, but I’d like to be as comfortable as possible for the time being. With that consideration, I’ve got an offer for you.

Percy shrugged. “Shoot.”

The card’s art didn’t move, but Percy felt the dragon’s nod. I’ll give you access to my mana, as well as help you bind others in these…

“Cards?” Percy supplied. He felt bad at the thought of trapping more intelligent creatures in the pieces of magic parchment, but he’d let the dragon finish before protesting.

Cards, I suppose, Silvaroth continued. Despite your apparent distaste for using the power you have, I can assure you that any and all of my minions would be more than happy to suffer the same fate as me if it is what I will. You may… collect some of them.

“Well, if they’re okay with it, then I guess that’s fine,” Percy agreed. “Um, can we also add that you’ll help me get out of here to the deal?”

That goes without saying, the dragon replied. Now, in exchange, I expect your cooperation. You said you would seek a way to release me. This is my condition.

“Okay.” Percy nodded. “Thanks, Silvaroth.”

The dragon didn’t respond, but another gauntlet message—Percy was considering calling them g-mails—appeared. He put Silvaroth’s card away carefully and read the message.

You’ve formed a mana contract with your Monarch.

New mana contract: Tribute- Summoner gains 1 Mana per turn, increased by 1 each time the Summoner successfully destroys an opposing monster without Silvaroth’s ability.

Per turn? So this really is a card game… But what defines a turn, then? Percy couldn’t imagine somebody calmly waiting for him to summon a monster to attack them. Real life couldn’t be like the shows that used to play on television.

Do you want to leave here or not? the dragon’s irritated voice echoed out causing Percy to jump.

“Yep!” he said hastily. “Let’s get out of here.”

Silvaroth boredly directed him across the obsidian bridge and the massive circle of rock which had been his bed for the last decade to a small cave that had been revealed after the dragon’s magical absorption. Percy skirted the waves of lava that splashed nearby, their flow pattern disrupted now that the massive scaley obstruction was gone.

He entered the tunnel, initially a completely dark hole that Percy’s gauntlet light barely penetrated, but he took the dragon’s sardonic advice and grasped one of the bluish rocks that jutted from the walls around him. Deactivating his light, Percy yanked on the rock.

And the tunnel lit up around him. Blue crystals like the one in his hand stuck out from the walls and roof. There were even some that seemed to be pressed into the floor by the pressure of countless feet.

See, human. Your bastardized magic cannot possibly compare to the natural beauty of this world.

Percy rolled his eyes. Then, out of curiosity, he drew another card from his deck box, praying it wouldn’t magically become stuck to his fingers again. He’d had his fill of that awful experience. Thankfully, it didn’t. Percy examined the card. It was certainly different. It seemed… weaker, somehow. The intricate magic decorating the back of Silvaroth’s card wasn’t as present; the designs weren’t as crammed onto the page. He tapped the card to the blue crystal in his hand.

A burst of magic shot forth from the card, wrapping itself around the object in his hand and, in a flash, the crystal was gone. Now, Percy’s empty card had a depiction of the crystal on it, and he read the text underneath it.

Night Light Crystal

Cost: 1 Earth Res

Component

Sacrifice Night Light Crystal: Generate 2 Shadow Res.

Generates 1 Light RPT.

“Huh.” Percy raised his fist. “Hey gauntlet, what’s RPT mean?” His query was thankfully met by a response. Tapping his knuckle, the boy read the floating message.

RPT is an abbreviation which stands for Res Per Turn.

“There’s that turn mechanic again. Can you tell me about that?”

No information regarding your query has been found.

“Okay. Thanks, anyway.” To Percy’s annoyance, the gauntlet was very inconsistent with regards to what kind of questions it could and couldn’t answer. It reminded him of the time when some of the boys in the orphanage had found a spider that simply fascinated them, but they couldn’t find anything about it in the insect guide they had.

It was Silvaroth’s turn to pipe up now, Why would you ever waste your magic on a Night Light Crystal? They’re almost entirely useless by themselves.

“Uh, well, it was an experiment to learn more about the card’s magic. I didn’t think it would actually work. Plus, I learned a lot about the crystal.”

The dragon’s reply carried a tone of incredulity. I could have answered any questions you had about it. You realize I live here, yes?

Percy’s face flushed. “Yeah, you’re… probably right. It’s okay. Live and learn.”

He could almost feel the Silvaroth’s harsh judgement permeating the air and swiftly moved down the tunnel to get away from it. It didn’t help.

Stop here, the dragon ordered after they’d passed through several empty rooms. Percy complied. He didn’t know where he was going, after all. And in his experience, arguing with a bully only made things worse.

Above him, the Night Light Crystals formed a circle on the roof, casting light out toward several tunnels that branched off of the room. That wasn’t unusual. Each of the previous rooms the two had passed through also had branches leading in different directions, but somehow Silvaroth knew where he was going. Percy wasn’t sure how. His previous body had been too large to fit down these tunnels, and he’d been sleeping for ninety-five years. It seemed like something one could easily forget.

Rafael! the dragon called, before realizing his voice wasn’t audible. Agh. Call for Rafael, human.

“My name’s Percy,” the boy plainly stated before doing as he’d been asked. “Rafael! Whoever you are, Silvaroth wants you!”