Don lay awake on his mattress, trying not to look at the blinking text in the corner of his eye.
ZERO DAYS, ZERO HOURS, FOUR MINUTES, FIFTY SECONDS.
It appeared last month. One hazy commute, Don noticed the flickering at the corner of his vision, pulled over, and called out of work to get his vision checked. Well, the doctor said it was a particularly strange migraine aura and okayed him to work.
So he did.
The symptom was strange, sure, but it wasn’t nearly debilitating - it only grew when he focused on it, and otherwise quietly winked at the bottom right of his vision. He’d grown used to working with it by the end of the first day, and learned to ignore it for sleep by the seventh. In fact, it was honestly helpful—the hallucination’s sense of time bordered on alarmingly perfect, even without checking his phone. He used it to take optimal breaks.
Until now, he’d never wondered what it was counting down to. It was just part of his routine.
ZERO DAYS, ZERO HOURS, ZERO MINUTES, TWELVE SECONDS.
Would it vanish? Don hoped not. He quite liked the unerring timing it gave him. But he didn’t expect much. This world crushed his dreams when he was twenty.
ZERO.
The text expanded to fill his vision. Don couldn’t feel his limbs.
What the hell is going on?!
Greetings, Potentate.
Your Father Earth hosts 78 magically gifted humans of mature age. You are one of them.
In the interest of fostering metaphysical diversity, you will become the proverbial sperm to seed Their Mother Esol with magical tradition. By passing through the Endless Ocean on your way from Earth to Esol, you will come to embody one of the Arcana.
For your rejection of the supernatural events occurring in front of you, as well as your refusal to prepare or even believe that there was something to prepare for, you have earned your place among the Minor Arcana. Your remarkable stubbornness resonates with three potential Arcana.
Four of Cups (Wizard Branch)
Six of Staves [Inverted] (Wizard Branch)
Eight of Swords (Warrior Branch)
Choose one within TEN SECONDS.
Shit!
Don couldn’t feel his body at all, either.
Okay, snap decision time. Eight is higher than four and six. But I don’t want to be a Warrior. That implies fighting. Wizard sounds much better— let me sit up in my humble tower and study, please! But the inverted tag scares me, just a little.
Don’s hesitation bought just enough time for the Six of Wands to vanish from his list. It must have been selected by another of the 78.
Four of Cups (Wizard Branch)
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Eight of Swords (Warrior Branch)
FIVE SECONDS.
There was no time for further rationale. Don decided, and then he was gone. The mattress he once laid on was knocked away by the air violently collapsing onto where his body used to be.
After all, Nature abhors a vacuum.
—--
He passed through something vast and inviolable. Images flung themselves into his body. A man, seated in self-contemplation, refused a chalice. Three others sat beside him, untouched but overflowing.
Ingratitude.
The man was Don.
There is magic around me, and I refuse to accept it? What is wrong with me? Why am I rejecting the gift?!
The vision of himself did not care for his own thoughts. He simply rested, a calm smile upon his face.
No, wait...
As the vision began to slip away, Don’s conviction firmed.
What I’m really doing is rejecting my god-given lot in life.
--—
Don appeared with a rush of displaced air, still lying on his back. He stared into the free blue sky. Winding clouds drifted lazily overhead.
He felt bile rising in his throat.
Something still sat in the corner of his vision, but it wasn’t the timer. His focus dragged it out like a shelf. It was a stat screen. Somehow, Don knew it was his own.
He began to read.
Overview:
HP: 18 / 18
MP: 10 / 10
Physique: G-2
Vitality: G-1
Energy: G-3
Focus: G-2
At first, it seemed only gibberish and numbers to Don. He quickly recognized HP and MP from every role-playing game he’d ever played. The rest, he admitted in the privacy of his own mind, meant nothing to him. Hopefully the next section would be better.
Arcana:
[Branch: Wizard] Lv.1
Whenever you level this: You immediately learn a random spell that you could with ten hours of cumulative effort. It becomes Forgettable.
Training your Energy and Focus is slightly easier.
Lovely, glorious plaintext! He noted the existence of ‘Forgettable’ spells; this implied an exception. Therefore, all other spells he could learn were permanent fixtures.
The training speed bonus was nice, and hinted that the latter four lines in his Overview were stats.
[Rank: Four] Lv.1
You have 4 base skill slots.
You have 4 base spell slots.
You can learn all manner of minor skills.
Don’s stomach pulsed with anxiety. I should have taken the Six of Staves when it appeared!
He took a steadying breath.
Indeed, this was a poor position to be in. Don wasn’t sure how impactful a skill or spell actually was, but being allowed less of them based on rank could only be a handicap. I feel so bad for anyone with an Ace.
Don’s biggest source of hope was the Level next to his Rank. If he could reach Lv.2, would he have 5 skill slots? If so, there was a way to catch up.
And... hang on. The number of hours was written out as ‘ten’ for Wizard, but here the number of skills is ‘4’. Will I only be able to increase the second one?
[Suit: Cups] Lv.1
You can learn all manner of water spells.
You begin with a random Cups skill.
There against the soft grass, Don chuckled nervously.
That doesn’t say it’s Forgettable. I hope the skill is real good, because I’m stuck with it.
Skills (1/4):
[Cup of Plenty] Lv.1
While you hold a Goblet: MP regeneration increases as the Goblet is filled with liquid, from +10% at half-full to +25% at overflowing.
While you do not hold a Goblet, or your Goblet is emptied: You cannot regenerate MP.
Don’s hands cast frantically about his person.
It was horrible news. He’d been transported with nothing but the clothes on his back.
...Not a goblet in sight!