When I woke again, I was lying in front of the gate that separated Old Town from the rest of the village. The sun shone bright and hot on my face.
My hands immediately felt for the glass buried in my belly.
It was gone.
There was no pain, no hole in my stomach. The only sign of my injury was the blood stains spread across my shirt and pants.
My hand strayed to the tattoo over my heart, and I felt the familiar sensation of power flowing through my body.
Holy shit, it wasn't a dream. I've really got a spell card.
A broad grin spread across my face, I looked down at the vine tattoo on my chest, seeing a single thorn growing off the vine.
That wasn't there before.
I ran my finger along the thorn, feeling the slight impression of the tattoo. As if the foundation card was responding to my desire, warmth spread into my fingertip and a semi transparent card appeared floating before my eyes.
It glowed with a cool iridescent light.
Holy shit, Flint is not going to believe this.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I studied the card.
I’d never seen a card before, but I’d heard so many songs and stories about them that it was as if I’d seen a thousand of them. I knew that just like the loot system in video games, cards came in different colors, white for commons, green for uncommons, blue for rares. But the card I held was neither of those colors.
It was gold.
"A legendary card," I whispered, as a tremor of excitement rippled through me.
Legendary didn't necessarily mean that it was powerful, it just meant it was incredibly rare, one of a kind, actually.
My eyes scanned the card from top to bottom like I was reading a book. The crown, in the top right corner, signified that it was a foundation card.
Card mages could only have one foundation card and the card set the casters' card affinities. Without one, it would be impossible to add another card to my soul, all of that made the foundation card the most important card in your deck.
I strained my eyes to read the card description. It looked like it was written in the old tongue, but I had no idea what it said. To me, the writing just looked like scratches and dots.
Below the writing was an image of tiny hands reaching out of the card and towards me, each hand dripping with blood.
Why does my first card have to look so damned creepy?
I lifted my hand off of the tattoo, and the image of the card faded away, leaving me feeling a strange combination of disturbed and excited.
I brought up my status screen and the familiar text flooded my vision.
Name: Bastion Ward
Rank: Porcelain-9
Class: None
Title: None
Foundation Card: Unholy Pact
Primary Affinity: Curse
Secondary Affinities: Death | Summoning
Deck Size: [1/2]
Relic Weapon: None
Etherix: None
Strength: [6]
Stamina: [6]
Speed: [6]
Agility: [6]
Power: [0]
Card Essence : [1]
Unspent Points: [2]
"Unholy pact, curse affinity," I read the title out loud.
That sounds ominous as hell.
A curse affinity legendary card, I didn't know what to make of that. Typically, in table-top role playing games, a spell that brought you back to life would be divine affinity and called something like ‘Kiss of the gods’ or some pious shit like that.
I tried once again to assign my unspent point, I’d been unable to spend it ever since reaching Porcelain-9.
I tried adding the point to [Strength]. It did nothing, tried each other stat without any success, and then I came to [Power].
Flint and I had never been able to add stats to [Power], we’d figured that was because we had no spell cards and the stat governed the strength of magic.
With a thought, I added a point into [Power].
It worked. I added a second point.
Has that made [Unholy Pact] stronger?
I wasn't even sure I knew what the card did. It hadn't healed me when I’d added it to my deck, but it seemed like it had brought me back to life.
Does that make me immortal?
Being immortal in a dangerous world like this was the most overpowered thing I could think of.
"Thank you, whichever god gives a shit about me!" I yelled.
I stepped through the gate and the familiar sensation of the barrier washed over me as I headed up the hill back home.
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***
My mother was weaving a basket in the kitchen when I arrived home.
"Bastion, is that you?" she asked, her white eyes searching in my direction.
"It's me, mom," I said, letting the door close behind me.
She turned around, holding onto the woven basket with one hand, "Back from school so soon, or have I lost track of time again?"
"No, it's not yet lunchtime," I said, trying to think of a reason for being home so soon.
"What is it?" my mother's head tilted to the side, her face etched with worry, "Did something happen at school?"
I sighed.
It was a little unnerving that my mother could tell so much just by my tone.
"It's nothing," I lied. "Mrs. Henley got sick, so we were let out early."
My mother put down her basket, "Poor woman, that blasted cold has been going around. We should send her some soup, that always helps me."
I groaned inwardly, this was why I hated lying to my mother. It just got out of hand so quickly.
"Sure, mom," I said, "I'll make a pot of soup tonight."
"Your teacher is lucky to have such a sweetheart in her class," she said.
"She sure is," I said weakly.
"And how are your classes going?" she asked.
"They're fine," I said, as I looked down at my torn and bloody clothes, "I need to get ready for training, I'm meeting Flint soon."
"Training, again?" She shook her head, "That's all you boys do. I worry that you'll get yourself killed with all that training."
I smiled, "That's one thing you never have to worry about, mom."
I headed upstairs and took a quick shower. I'd managed to fashion a heated water tank on the roof and a separate water storage unit.
It was nice to have warm water to bathe in.
The village was still pretty medieval. The toilet was a hole in the ground, and we used candles and lanterns for lighting, but at least we could keep the water warm.
If I had been reborn into a proper city, and one not ravaged by plague, I might have been able to do something with my Earth knowledge. I could have taught farmers about crop rotation and soil nutrition. I could have designed houses with proper sanitation, and plumbing. Shit, I might have even been able to teach them about herbs and medicines.
But in a village like this, everything was made of wood and mud. People were too poor for food, let alone luxuries like penicillin and running water.
After my shower I sat on my bed, my legs crossed, and lent back against the wall. My fingertips touched my new tattoo, and once again the familiar feeling of warmth spread into my chest.
I wondered again if the card had really made me immortal. If it had, what did that mean?
The only way to find out was to die again.
My body trembled with the memory of the pain and horror of that moment.
I can't kill myself.
It just felt wrong. No, if I was going to die I wanted it to be in the heat of battle, fighting monsters.
Another thought struck me.
What was the side effect of my card? I knew all foundation cards had one, that was the detail that everyone agreed on, the one detail that all the bards and singers got right.
In fact, it was the only thing I was certain of.
So, what is my side effect?
My stomach growled, and I realized that I hadn't eaten in hours.
I jumped off the bed and headed downstairs.
"I'm going out, mom," I yelled.
"Take care," she replied.
I left the house, heading down the hill towards Flint's house.
I couldn't wait to tell him all about my card, it was just a pity I couldn't show him what it did. For a moment, I wondered if I should let Flint kill me. It was a stupid idea and I dismissed it quickly.
Before I had even reached the end of the lane, I saw a large crowd of people gathering in the marketplace. I could hear their murmuring and nervous laughter, but I couldn't make anything out.
My first thought was that they'd found Professor Tommelkins. But as I drew nearer, I realized the excitement was something else.
"They're almost here!" I heard a woman yell, her voice filled with excitement.
Flint stood on the edge of the crowd and when he saw me he ran over, his face beamed with relief.
"Infernal flame’s man, where have you been?" he looked me over, "I've been bloody searching for you for hours, and you went home and showered."
"You're not going to believe what happened to me," I said, rubbing my head.
"Later, Bas, you won't believe who's on their way here right now," he grabbed my arm and dragged me back towards the crowd.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Word just came in that strangers are heading this way," he grinned at me, "people say they're card mages."
I stopped in my tracks.
"No shit," I said.
My mind raced, could it be Patches, could he be returning for his card? But how was that possible, he had the blight, there was no way he could cross the barrier?
"You ok man?" Flint asked, staring at me intently.
"I'm fine," I said, trying to shake off the dread that was starting to creep up my spine, "How do they know it's a card mage?"
Flint shrugged, "I guess we will find out soon enough." He looked ahead through the crowd, "There, look."
Everyone gasped as a huge carriage pulled by two massive griffins came into view.
I felt the hairs on my neck rise as the beasts strutted into the marketplace, their wings spread wide, their tails lashing back and forth.
"There's no driver," I said in surprise.
"That's what you notice first," Flint said in amusement, "What about the bloody griffins, look at those things."
I tried to peer over the crowd, but as much as I hated to admit it, I was a pretty short guy.
"Who is it?" I asked.
Flint shook his head, "No idea, let's get a better look."
He pushed his way through the crowd and I followed close behind.
We reached the front and I stared up at one of the huge griffins. It was a beast almost twice the size of any horse and covered in black feathers.
"Damn, they look like monsters straight out of my nightmares," Flint laughed, "I mean, look at those eyes and those claws, they could probably tear your head off and eat it before you even noticed it was gone."
I couldn't believe it. I was seeing something people on Earth had only ever dreamt of.
"They are incredible," I said.
The closest griffin lowered its head and I stared deep into its yellow eyes. The beast seemed to study me for a moment, and then it let out a low screech, causing the people behind us to step back in fear.
The carriage door opened, and a man carrying an ebony cane stepped out. He was tall and thin, with dark skin and silver hair. His robes were the same color as the griffin, and he wore them with such elegance that I could see why the crowd was so excited to meet him.
The man tapped his cane on the ground and casually opened a gaping portal in the middle of the street.
People gasped and murmured as they watched the portal grow and stretch.
"Are you seeing this," Flint said, nudging me in the side.
I stared wide-eyed as the griffins bowed their heads to their master and stepped through the inky black hole. The portal remained for a few seconds longer, and then there was a sound like a rushing wind as the portal closed.
"A real-frigging-life card mage," Flint whispered, his voice quivering with excitement.
The man's dark eyes surveyed the crowd, and he raised a hand to greet the people.
A second later, a woman with dark skin and matching hair stepped out of the carriage. She wore a long, indigo gown embellished with gold patterns that shimmered in the soft light.
"Holy shit!" I whispered.
"I'll say," Flint said.
I’d seen this woman before.
Her eyes, green as bottled glass, locked onto mine for a brief instant.
It was a look I'd never forget, not because she was beautiful. Although, she was. And not because she was powerful. Although, she was.
It was because she was the woman I'd seen in my dreams. The one that had questioned me as I slept.
My heart pounded against my ribs.
The man whispered into her ear, and she nodded, her eyes still locked onto mine.
She raised her hands to the crowd, her eyes blazing with fire, "So this is Misty Hollow," she said in a voice like honey. "It seems our long journey is finally at an end."
***