Tarri woke up and looked around, the setting sun illuminating the room with a warm glow. There was a slightly steaming teapot on the nightstand, along with an empty cup. She sat up on the edge of the bed and obliged herself, the warmth of lavender and honey bringing a smile to her face. She looked at her bandaged leg and wiggled it around. It didn’t seem to hurt anymore, but there was only one way to know for sure. Setting down the teacup, she slowly pushed herself off the bed and put more weight on her legs. When she had fully stood up, she was shocked. Her leg felt fine, no pain, no nothing.
“Already back on yer feet?”
Tarri turned towards the doorway to see that Mr. Cordell had entered the room.
“Yeah. Thank you for the fresh tea…and for fixing me up.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem. Since you seem to be right as rain, I take it yer ready to train.”
“Train?”
Mr. Cordell smiled as he pulled several blank cards from the inside of his jacket pocket. “In card castin’, of course. You want to learn how to do it, don’t you?”
“Sure, but I barely know anything about spell casting. And now you expect me to learn a completely new form of it?”
“Yep! Meet me outside when you’re ready.” Mr. Cordell said as he turned to leave.
“Wait.” Tarri said. Mr. Cordell swiveled back around.
“Yes?”
“Why? Why are you willing to help me this much?”
He sighed. “Like I’ve said several times before—”
“No. I won’t take that as an answer anymore.” She walked up to him. “Give me a better reason, or I’m leaving to take on the husk again. I need to get my weapons back, anyway.” She walked off, heading towards the door.
“Wait.” Mr. Cordell sighed. “The Archmage asked me to help you.”
Tarri stopped and spun around. “The Archmage!?”
Mr. Cordell nodded. “He sees somethin’ in you. Told me that if you ever crossed my path that I should help you out. Teach you.”
“And your idea of teaching is sending me against a centuries old undead relative woefully unprepared?”
“The unfortunate consequences of you being my first student.”
Tarri scrunched her brow. “Wait, I’ve never met the Archmage. How can he ‘see something in me’, as you put it?”
“They don’t call him ‘Archmage’ for nothin’. Now, are you still set on refusin’ my help, or are you committed to handlin’ this by yerself?”
Tarri pondered for a moment. “Fine. But one more mention about my family’s illustrious reputation and I’m leaving, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mr. Cordell smiled and walked out of the room. “I’ll be waitin’ outside.”
Tarri looked out the window, and for the first time in a while, she smiled.
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The outside of Mr. Cordell’s residence was as immaculate as the inside. It was practically a small castle, with rounded spires capping off the four corners of the solid brick abode. The building itself sat upon a large coastal bluff overlooking Nofronio and its surrounding forests. Tarri took in a deep breath of the salty air. Unlike the city, where the saltiness was mixed with urban smells, up here it was more noticeable. It reminded her of the air back home.
“Are you ready to begin?” Mr. Cordell asked. Tarri nodded. “Splendid!” He pulls out the blank cards from his jacket and hands them to her. “You mentioned earlier you barely know anythin’ about spell castin’. Would you mind tellin’ about what you do know?”
“Sure.” Tarri answered. “One can cast spells by expending large amounts of personal energy, and because it’s so tiring to cast a single spell, most can only cast about one per day, if at all. That’s about the extent of my knowledge.”
“That’s a good start. Have you ever tried castin’ a spell?”
Tarri shook her head. “I didn’t really have any reason to. I was a silversmith, not an adventurer.”
“And you decided to switch careers because…?”
“Private.”
Mr. Cordell nodded. “Understood.” He paced around. “Allow me to add to your knowledge of spell castin’ a little. Yes, it can be extremely tirin’, causin’ many to believe the craft as practically pointless. However, there are two ways to get around this pesky problem. The first is to use what is called a well, which is a small area where nature’s energy has pooled together in a concentrated form, allowin’ folks to access this energy for their own purposes without exhaustion’ themselves.”
“The second option,” Mr. Cordell smiled and pulled out a card, upon which was an illustration of a large flame, “is card castin’!” He then threw the card towards a tree in the distance, and midway through the throw, the card transformed into a fireball. It hit the tree, setting it ablaze.
“Woah.” Tarri said. She looked at Mr. Cordell, trying to find any sign of exhaustion. To her surprise, he looked perfectly fine. “How…how did you do that?”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin. “How about you try it for yourself before I tell you the specifics?” He pulled out a small, flat black box and handed it to her. She opened it up to find a small set of paints and a thin brush.
“I’m not that great of an artist.”
“Sure you are! I saw the crest you had engraved on your weapons. You have a brilliant eye for minute detail.”
“But that was metal. This is paint.”
“Just have confidence in yourself. Yer goin’ to need some if you truly wish to be an adventurer.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Tarri took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.” She sat down on the ground and took one of the blank cards in her left hand. With her right, she took hold of the brush and dipped the tip into the red paint. She closed her eyes, imagining how she might depict a fireball on the card. A large, red base color in a basic flame shape, rounded on the bottom with various sized spikes protruding from the top. Next, layers of orange and yellow, each one mimicking the original shape, but slightly smaller. Finally, a bit of white in the center, to symbolize the hottest part of the flame.
Opening her eyes, she discovered she had somehow already started painting on the card. The red base layer was already finished, and her brush was prepared to apply the orange. How did I…? She shook her head and continued painting. Mr. Cordell smiled. Soon, Tarri’s card was complete, the image of the fireball turning out exactly as she had envisioned it.
“What’s next?” Tarri asked as she stood up.
“Just throw it.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Although it would be preferable if you threw it over the bluff instead of at a tree. I reckon your aim won’t be the greatest at the moment.”
Tarri nodded and walked towards the edge of the bluff. She tried to imitate the grip that she noticed Mr. Cordell had used earlier, placing the card in between her right pointer and middle fingers, and held it parallel to the ground. She took a deep breath, and, aiming for the setting sun, threw the card. It flew fast, and about two seconds after she released it, the card transformed into a raging fireball, its size nearly eclipsing the sun as it continued heading off into the horizon.
Tarri stood there, bewildered. She had never cast a spell before, yet just now she had made a giant ball of fire, and she wasn’t the least bit exhausted. She turned around to Mr. Cordell, who stood there equally shocked. Soon, however, he started laughing.
“That damned Archimedes! Guess he was onto somethin’ after all.”
She walked up to him. “How was I able to do that?”
Mr. Cordell collected himself. “It’s the card’s paper. It’s made from trees grown on a well, meaning that all the energy needed to cast a spell is already prepared. All one needs to do is tell the card what spell you want to cast, hence the paint.”
“If you can cast spells this easily using the cards, how come no one is using them?”
He grinned. “You recall that my family started as nomadic merchants, yes?” Tarri nodded. “Well, even though we settled down in Nofronio, we kept up with our various contracts through the generations, some of which included some exclusivity clauses.”
“So you control the paper.”
“Correct! Card casting is a Cordell family secret. The person outside the family that knows about it is—”
“Let me guess. Archmage Archimedes?”
“Correct again! In fact, he’s the one that helped perfect the technique with my ancestors.”
“Your ancestors? Just how old is the Archmage?”
Mr. Cordell smiled. “You’ll have to ask him yerself one day. I’m sure now that you will eventually meet him.” He stretched. “For now, though, why don’t we head inside? I imagine you’ll want to start workin’ on those cards.”
Tarri looked out at the horizon, her fireball still hurtling towards the sun. “Yeah, yeah I do.”
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As rays of light from the rising sun bounced off the rotting cabin and poured through the broken doorway, Lancaster squinted his eyes and retreated to the shadows. He did not enjoy the light. It was blinding, pestering. Of course, he wasn’t sure what he did or did not enjoy anymore. After all, he was a husk, a body with no soul, a presence without purpose. The coldness of death tormented him, yet he could not truly find it. However, he had somehow made peace with himself and his cabin of solitude. Even if he had to live out eternity as an empty being, he would be happy.
Then that girl showed up.
He looked down at the silver weapons still stuck in his hand, forgetting they were even there because of the lack of pain. She had invaded his sanctuary, violated it. To do what? Kill him? Lancaster should have welcomed her with open arms, gladly accepted the girl’s gift of death, but memories of his family’s betrayal clouded his judgment. His family trapped him in this cabin. Why was he kept here? Because he was a husk? A threat? They were afraid of him, they always had been. While everyone else was trading petty wares in the streets, he was slaying knights and lords on the glorious battlefields. Why, if it hadn’t been for that damn arrow—.
“Lancaster!”
That voice. He twisted around and looked out the doorway. It was her, off in the distance. He snarled. She had the gall to come back, to desecrate his home once again. Even if she was a bringer of death, he would not let this stand. He launched himself out of the cabin and charged at her…
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The husk’s sudden charge surprised Tarri. She had hoped to keep him at range and throw spells at him from a safe distance, but she realized that strategy wouldn't be an option.
She dodged out of the way as the husk slammed into a tree, ripping it out of its roots and colliding into the tree behind it. She ran back a little farther before pulling out a few spell cards and activating them. Three floating swords appeared around her, each giving off a faint glow of light. While the husk was still recovering from its reckless charge, Tarri got into a running stance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The moment she opened her eyes, she sprinted towards the husk, who had now righted himself just in time to see her coming. He lifted his arm up and slammed it down where he thought she would be, but Tarri dodged it and directed one sword to stab him through the wrist, pinning his hand to the ground. The husk tried to swipe at her with his other hand, but she used another sword to cut it off mid-swipe, causing the severed hand to tumble to the ground. He roared, the sound seeming to shake the ground itself. He ripped his pinned-down arm off the ground and struck Tarri, launching her backwards.
She landed on the ground next to the severed hand and winced. As she recovered, she noticed that her silver weapons were still embedded into the hand and smiled. She pulled the swords out and stood up, readying herself. The husk, eyes full of burning hatred, charged once more towards her. Tarri directed the two remaining floating swords to attack one after the other. The husk easily knocked them away and continued his charge, but she was no longer in front of him. She quickly ran around and jumped onto his back, stabbing her silver sword and dagger into the back of his neck. Placing her feet on the back of the still charging husk, she sliced through the neck and pushed herself off, landing safely on the ground as the headless body continued charging into the treeline.
Tarri took a moment to collect herself before grabbing the husk’s head that had landed near her. I actually did it. She laughed. She cried. It was finally over. Walking over to the headless husk, she placed a fireball card on top of it, as well as tossing one inside the cabin, just as Mr. Cordell had asked her to. She activated the cards and began making the trek back to Nofronio.
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The guild buzzed with activity as various groups of adventurers chatted and drank. Tarri squirmed her way through the crowd and approached Torgärd, who was busy dealing with a series of administrative documents. Mr. Cordell was also present, leaning against a back wall. He noticed Tarri as she approached.
“Ah, you’ve returned!”
Torgärd looked up. “You’re…you’re alive!? How? I thought that thing was impossible to kill.”
“Cleary not.” Tarri placed the husk’s head on the desk and smiled. “So, what’s next?”
Mr. Cordell inspected the head. “That’s Lancaster, all right.” He entered his office and came out with a small stack of papers. “Torgärd, can you handle this? I have to take care of some business right quick.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is something wrong?” asked Tarri.
“No, there’s nothin’ wrong. Nothin’ you need to worry about, at least. You just relax and celebrate.” Mr. Cordell entered his office again and closed the door.
“Ahem.” Torgärd coughed. “Let’s get started on this, shall we? Now, do you have a name for your company?”
“Haven’t really thought about a name, to be honest.” Tarri said.
“Well, you better figure out a name quick, otherwise we’re never going to get through this paperwork.”
“Hmmm.” Tarri pondered for a moment. “Ah, I got it! My company will be named…”
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Mr. Cordell popped out of a portal inside of a dimly lit room, filled with dusty bookshelves and musty air. An ancient-looking man in bright blue robes sat on a padded wooden chair. “So, how did the half-elf fare?”
Mr. Cordell chuckled. “You were right, as always. She’s a natural card caster.” He walked over to the side of the ancient man. “Is she the one that will—?”
The ancient man shook his head. “No. No, she is merely part of a whole. But it is up to her to see how that whole is constructed.” He smiled. “And that whole, my friend, shall be our hope for the future.”