The door to the old farmhouse opens with a loud creak. It stands alone on endless dry land, forgotten by time. The roof is sagging from years of neglect. Shingles are blowing in the wind. Its white paint is now split like an old scar.   

An older man, dressed in day-old clothes and a worn hat, steps onto the porch of the disheveled home. He looks out to the barn to survey any work being done.   

“Damn, how did we miss this thing?” He notices an old newspaper in the grass.   

The man walks over and grabs the paper, folds it, and puts it in his back pocket. He takes a swig out of his mason jar and flinches, “Made this one a little too strong.”  

A young man peers around the barn door to see his dad taking a sip from his usual cup. He yells, “Pa, the sun just came up, why are you drinkin’ already?”   

“Since we are asking questions, why is the paper in the yard? Could be something cheap for sale in there.” The old man lights a hand-rolled cigarette and takes a drag. “How much work you got left, Caleb?” The man walks over to his son and sets his glass on a nearby table.   

“I’m about to finish feeding the horses and I'll be done,” Caleb says as he wipes his brow of sweat.   

Pa looks around the barn, seemingly satisfied with the work and the answer.  

“I’ll skim the paper while you finish up your chores.” Pa groans as he squats down on a hay bale.   

Caleb nods and starts to make his way towards the corral.   

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He hears a faint gasp from behind him. Caleb looks back at his father, the older man’s eyes are bulging.   

“Pa!” Caleb is startled by his dad, almost frozen in place.  

“Caleb, read the first page of this paper. Please tell me that my old eyes aren’t lyin’ to me.” Pa hands over the newspaper, he still seems like he’s in shock.  

Caleb holds the paper and realizes what his father has just read.   

“Seers and Card-trackers have their sights set on Whispering Canyon. A new town has already begun construction at the possibility of a new card emerging. The new town of Whispering Sands is calling all card hunters, prospectors, and fortune hunters to visit the town and try their luck in finding one of the rare artifacts. If this is true, it could be one of the greatest finds in recent memory.”   

Caleb reads the paper carefully, making sure not to misspeak any detail.  

“Pa, what does it have to do with us?” Caleb drops the paper to his side with an audible sigh.  

“We are half-starved as it is right now. Pa, we don’t hunt cards.” He tosses the paper towards his dad and makes a move towards the door.  

“Caleb,” the older man stands up, his hand steadying his mason jar, not wanting to spill a drop of his alcohol.  

“You have to go to Whispering Springs.” Pa almost begging Caleb. “Not just for our family, but for you. You are meant for more than milking cattle and feeding horses.” Pa takes a swig out of his mason jar.   

Caleb nervously chuckles. “And what are you going to do with your workhorse chasing down magic or cards or God knows what? You would starve within days.”   

Pa starts to tremble. Caleb notices the mason jar full of dark alcohol splashing onto his father’s hand.   

Caleb grabs his dad’s shoulders to steady his trembling. “Pa, this stuff is going to kill ya,” Caleb says while moving to grab the mason jar.  

Pa moves his hand in a flash to grab Caleb’s arm. Caleb flinches but doesn’t try to pull away.  

Pa pulls Caleb in close, not breaking eye contact.  

 “We have a card.”