"So, you finally decided to wake up?"
Irwin looked at Ambraz before nodding dumbly.
"I thought I was going to need to search for another smith a few times. Daubutim wasn't mistaken. If you hadn't slotted the Coperion Skin card, you would have died. What were you thinking, jumping on that Bablibon?"
Irwin shivered as the chaotic moments of movement and chaos replayed themselves. Wait, hadn't he been deafened? He raised a hand to his ears, feeling crusts running from them down his neck.
"Don't worry. Your ears are fine, just some punctured eardrums," Ambraz said.
Irwin was quiet, staring at the bits of scab on his fingernails. He'd almost died. Would his mother ever find out what had happened to him if it had? Would she even survive what was apparently happening?
"How do we stop this world from shattering," he asked, staring at the Anvil. He realized the question had been bothering him for a while now. He just hadn't paid much attention to it with everything that had been going on.
"You don't," Ambraz said matter of factly. "With how fast this world is destabilizing? You would need the full cooperation of hundreds of thousands of carded to clear all of the portals as fast as possible, and even then- It might be too late."
Irwin knew his mind was still not recovered. At least, that's what he thought was going on, as he was surprised by how quietly he accepted the news without panicking. Instead, he shook his head.
"There has to be something we can do. We can't just be doomed," he said. Part of him wished he could always be this calm.
Ambraz quietly observed him for a while, and Irwin saw the Anvil's lips moving on occasion as if he wanted to speak but was holding back.
Irwin decided to calmly wait while he still could. An infernal itch was starting all over his back, and he hoped the wounds weren't infected. He'd seen one of the rangers with an infected hand once, and he'd lost three fingers before his cards had helped his body fight off the infection.
"There are two ways I can think of," Ambraz finally said, though he sounded uncertain. "If you or someone else can become a heartbound, you will be able to move the location of portals below legendary. If you can join with a teleporter, you can bring the portals to places where people can close them."
Irwin dully gazed at the Anvil. "How many portals are there?" he whispered, not even bothering to ask what heartbound was. That would have to wait.
Ambraz barked a laugh. "To create this much instability? Hundreds of thousands. No, probably more! But, most should be common or uncommon. You don't need to move those, just the tens of thousands of rare and very rare ones. If you can become heartbound, you should be able to close what you people call legendary portals by yourself. Do you even have a term for what is beyond that? Probably not if you call it legendary… Anyway, as long as there is no portal above diamond, you may be able to stabilize this world. The remaining portals will need to be closed before any go above rare ever again."
There are portals above legendary? Irwin thought, uncertain what those would even look like. The stories he'd heard about legendary portals and cards already defied everything he knew.
After a few moments, he swallowed back his fearful worries.
Even if they had to close only the portals rare and above, what would it take to close thousands of portals and then move them? Thousands of people with rare and above cards! Even if they got all of the sorcerers and rangers together, they wouldn't have that many!
"And the second way?" he asked tentatively.
Ambraz was quiet for a while, then plopped his lips, something he'd never done as far as Irwin remembered.
"You would need to find a legendary teleportation card. With it, you or someone else can teleport between worlds. You could create portals to get the people to a safe place before the world shatters."
Irwin was about to laugh at the idiocy of it. Legendary cards were… legendary! He knew of only one, and that was the one Gelwin had. And it wasn't a teleportation one. Then he leaned back. There was something, though. Something he might be able to do, even if it was no more than a tiny chance.
"If… if I become a great smith, could I reforge cards until they become legendary?" he asked carefully.
Ambraz was quiet again, and though the Anvil lacked eyes, Irwin had the feeling he was examining and weighing him. The silence lasted even longer than before and ended as Ambraz plopped his lips.
"Yes. But... If you are serious about that, you can't just select any card you want anymore! Even if it means lowering your chances of surviving. To reforge up to diamond is something only a handful of smiths in any single world can do. You are lucky that I am here because without me, it would have been impossible for you. Even then... You have anywhere between seven and twelve years. I'm not sure anyone ever managed to get to the level of reforging diamond cards in that short time."
Irwin stared at the Anvil, then up at the leaves. It would be great to see them like this for a few months and for winter to last shorter. If he could save the world, that would be best. But he wanted to save his mother and brother. And Greldo and Daubutim, he thought as he shook his head. And the other people of Malorin! Where would he live otherwise if everyone was dead?
"What does heartbound mean?" he asked, trying to distract himself.
"After a carded gains his sixth card and combines his second hand, he needs to combine them all together. The only place they can go is in his heartslot. After he manages to combine them, which is no small feat, he has to pick one of the six cards' abilities as the base, then change it by adding a tiny part of each of the other cards to create his very own heartcard. The new card will be… different and influence all of the others as much as his first card would."
Heartslot? Heartcard?
Irwin frowned and shook his head, not sure he understood. So he could combine all of his cards into a single one? And it was different and would go into his heart? There was another socket there? He'd never heard anything about that!
"What happens to the cards in my hands?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around what Ambraz was saying.
"They and the slots vanish, but their effects will remain," Ambraz said. "A Heartbound will never be able to change one of his cards ever again. In return, they become far more powerful with what they have and gain other things- never mind. That's not important right now. To become heartbound, you need at least one diam-... legendary and no more than one common. Anything else would be too unstable. Though most heartbound that I know have only rare and higher."
"One legendary," Irwin whispered as he shook his head in disbelief. And there were many of these where Ambraz was from? He could hardly believe it.
"Yes. But with one legendary, you can only use the effects of that card as the base card. Any cards below diamond are not stable enough…"
"Are there cards above diamond?" Irwin asked, trying the word Ambraz used and finding he liked it. Even if it meant the same thing, it made the cards seem less unobtainable.
"Yes and no. None that you can slot in your hand at least," Ambraz said before snorting. "Enough. You don't even have a single combined hand yet. There is no use in talking about things so far away you might never reach them!"
Irwin thought quietly as he looked at the leaves. He might have slumbered a few times, but he wasn't sure. He did know that his mind was slowly starting to return to normal. And he wasn't too happy about it. The stress of what had happened was making it hard for him to think about anything but what had happened, while his growing worry about his back wounds and possible infections made him antsy. The only useful thing he managed to do was decide that he wasn't going to be able to fix the world by himself.
No. He'd need help, even if he became the world's best cardsmith. And only.
With a suddenness, he realized he hadn't seen Greldo yet. Shouldn't he be here?
I hope he is just out gathering food, he thought, but somehow he knew it was unlikely.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
When he finally heard a rustle and managed to subjugate the panic he felt, he almost Eye Blazed Daubutim. The noble had his arms filled with Udnit root, a pale root found near creeks that were mildly sweet and normally used in soups and broth. Irwin had gotten many at school, though mostly raw.
"Where is Greldo?" Irwin whispered loudly.
Daubutim blinked, then shook his head. "I've only found tracks. He was at the portal, but the last ones I found were a day old. For him, three days should have passed. He either decided we were dead or had to leave for some reason."
Irwin felt his mood sour even more, and he glared at the leaves above him. He was about to ask Daubutim if they could somehow find him and track him down when his stomach rumbled loudly.
"Don't worry about Greldo. I saw no signs of him being chased or of Demons. He probably decided to head to Esterdon and wait for us there. Now, I need to clean them. Then I'll hand you one," he muttered.
Irwin didn't respond, just staring intently at the root while thinking about Greldo, scary birds, legendary cards, and hundreds of thousands of portals. When he got a root handed to him, he snapped back to reality.
"I need to tell you something," he said as he looked at the root before taking a slight nibble.
Daubutim looked up from the other roots.
"Ambraz told me some things when you were gone-"
Irwin quickly repeated what Ambraz had told him as best as he could. When he finished, Daubutim was sitting on the ground, the roots forgotten in his hand.
"Heartbound," the noble boy muttered. "I've heard of those, but father said it was a fairytale told by the sorcerers to keep people hoping." He frowned as he gazed at the Anvil, and Irwin could almost see the battle between his absolute belief in his father's war with his common sense in his eyes.
"I don't think it is, but until we see one, we won't know for sure," Irwin said, hoping the Anvil wouldn't be upset.
"Oh, they are real. Trust me on that," Ambraz said, sounding amused.
Daubutim frowned for a while longer before moving to Irwin.
"Try to move on your side. I need to inspect your wound," he said.
Irwin nodded, more than happy to help. He feared what the other would find. Probably infections, maybe even wound rot. Wait, did wound rot happen this fast?
As he rolled on his side, he felt a painful jab and more itching from his back as his skin stretched.
"The scratches are healing, but slowly," Daubtim said before sighing deeply. "The deep wound… we need to clean it. We will wait till the sun is up, so nobody sees, and make a fire to boil some water. I'll have to clean it, perhaps cut some bits out. Then we need to-"
Irwin was shivering by now as he heard his worst fears become reality.
"Ahum," Ambraz said as he hovered next to them, clearing his throat loudly.
"What?" Daubutim and Irwin said nearly at the same time.
"You should pay far more attention to what your cards do," Ambraz said as he hovered before Irwin. "Don't you recall what I told you about your first card?"
Irwin blinked, then blinked again. His mind had been tranquil before, though partially filled with fear. He'd somehow imagined he was fairly alright. But he wasn't. As he tried to reason, it seemed like a foggy blanket was slowly pulled away.
Right, the healing with heat! How could I forget, he thought as his mind seemed to awaken.
With it, a chilly pain came from dozens of places. He groaned, almost curling up and potentially exasperate his wounds. Pain washed away tranquility, but the pain also brought clarity, and as it did, he gasped.
How could he have missed it?
"I'm going to make it hot in here," he said before letting out a pained moan as the wound on his back burned with an icy cold.
Daubutim seemed confused, but the noble boy's eyes widened when Irwin summoned his flame and held it above his body. A wave of heat washed from the jittery flame, its edges rippling chaotically.
"I'll wait outside!"
Irwin didn't pay attention to the other, instead feeling his body start to shiver. Had it been cold before? He couldn't recall, but the surroundings were heating up rapidly. That much was sure.
Within a minute, a dusty, moldy scent filled the thicket. He saw the leaves around the edges begin to curl up dangerously, then the itch in his back intensified. It went from mildly annoying, to horrible, to torture, and he couldn't stop himself from beginning to grind his back in the now dry ground he lay in.
Another minute later, he smelled something burning and looked up. Tiny flames licked around the thinner branches, the leaves above him having gone from red and yellow to curled-up black.
"You are burning down the bushes!" Daubutim's voice sounded panicky as it came from the outside. "Stop it!"
Irwin was about to unsummon his flame when Ambraz piped in.
"If you keep it this hot, you should heal most of the really dangerous damage within an hour. Who cares about one more bush?"
Daubutim must have heard the Anvil because before Irwin could respond, he hissed a response.
"You're going to draw attention to us!"
Irwin hesitated. The itching was still bad, but it had become slightly better. Should he stop? If he didn't, would that mean Daubutim had to cut away wound rot? He shivered in fear at having his back mutilated.
A crackling sound came from the side, and he looked up. The tiny flames had grown, and a large path licked across the bushes. Panicking, he was about to snuff out his card flame when his no longer frazzled mind reminded him of something.
With less pain than it should have cost, he rose to his knees and moved his flame near the fire. A soft hiss came, and then the fire rushed into his flame, dissipating. As it did, he felt the temperature emanating from his flame go up from soothing to pleasantly hot.
He struggled to his feet, his head touching the ceiling of charred leaves. As soon as any fire grew larger than a spark, he moved to it and held his flame close, causing any flames to be sucked away.
Minutes ticked by as his itch increased then decreased, then increased again. It was horrible, and he scratched and rubbed where he could. But he could only reach the upper part of his back. The pain became unbearable if he tried moving his arm up from below.
When he felt something in his back stitch together, and the itch on that area intensified to rival pain, a muted shout came from outside.
"Irwin, get out here! There are demons incoming. We need to leave!"
Irwin stared at the leaf coverage, then unsummoned his flame and jumped through the dry and darkened bush. There was still pain flaring up from his back, but he was more than a little surprised at how easily he could move.
A name flashed through his mind. Greater Rapid Regeneration. That's what Ambraz had called it, and though he had used it before, he hadn't appreciated it as much as he did right now.
Sharp branches pierced the rags that remained of his clothing, scratching across his skin. It didn't hurt, and he wondered how strong his skin had become. Then he reached the edge and leaped outside on the carpet of partially dried leaves and mud. A cold wind washed over him, and he shivered.
Daubutim stood a few feet away in the shadowy-filled forest, staring forward steely-eyed. Dozens of ruddy figures were rushing towards them, smaller than him but faster than he thought he could move. Something about them seemed familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"We can't flee," Daubutim hissed as he backed up, shield and morningstar in hand. "Get your eye fire ready!"
Irwin nodded, focusing on the sensation from his Eyes of Blaze card. The energy reservoir seemed full, which meant he could blast for six seconds.
A high-pitched giggle came from the side as two familiar figures jumped out into the open.
"Look! Carded! They look weak! Let's kill them," an Imp hissed as he elbowed a larger one beside it.
"I think we should wait," the second said as it took a few steps back. "Look. They have three cards!"
Irwin looked at the two small imps in wonder. He'd last seen them in the trial portal and, back then, had killed dozens of them, though not without risk. Now, as he looked at them, they seemed small and almost harmless compared to the Galubs and hounds.
"They are too fast. Kill them," Daubutim hissed as he rushed at the two imps. "And get ready for the rest."
Irwin saw more were coming, then followed Daubutim. He was slower than the other, but he saw the two Imps' eyes widen. Then they jumped behind a tree with a fearful cry. Daubutim stopped with an angry snarl.
"Get ready for the other ones," he said as Irwin stepped next to him.
Irwin looked around, then at Daubutim, and nodded. "Draw their attention and group them. I'll-" he began. A group of imps ran out in the open, and Irwin didn't bother to wait. He jumped forward, and a blast of fire erupted from his eyes, catching half of them in its area. There was a startled shout, and he deactivated the skill to use it again, expecting to find the Imps rolling on the ground, burning.
As the flame vanished, the imps stood with eyes wide in fear, looking around at tiny embers burning from the bushes and ground. They seemed unharmed.
"Gelwin's beard," Irwin hissed as he realized what had happened.
Imps live in hot places. They don't care about fire! How had he forgotten this? As well as he felt, given the circumstances, his mind had to still be in disarray!
Daubutim was moving like lightning, his morningstar slamming into one of the startled and confused imps. A dull crack came as the Imp's head snapped back, its neck at a completely wrong angle.
Irwin ran forward and swung his flame into two that stood close together. The pain in his back flared up, and he felt his mind fog from the exertion, but he ignored both, focusing on the Imps. A sly smile had crept up their lips, but their eyes shot wide as his flame touched them. Within the blink of an eye, their skin darkened. A whooshing sound followed a soft gasp, and then both Imps turned to ash that flowed down into the wind.
Irwin stared at them, then at his flame, and then at the other Imps.
All of them were staring at his flame, eyes filled with fear. Then, as one, they took a step back.
"Don't let them flee," Daubutim snapped and charged.
Irwin followed his lead, charging the nearest Imp that stumbled back. As slow as he was, he reached it before it could get away, ashing it as if it was a paper sheet. But when he turned, he saw the others had scattered, screaming as they ran away.
Daubutim had managed to catch two, standing above their clubbed bodies.
"We need to get out of here before they find stronger allies," Daubutim hissed. "One of those portals must have surged."
Irwin nodded dumbly as he looked at the flame above his hand. It flickered, almost hungrily, and had grown to over the length of his arm, too narrow for any natural flame.
How much bigger can it get, he wondered, and slowly he regained his calm.
"Perhaps we should wait for the bigger imps," he whispered, ignoring the stunned look from Daubutim.
"I can probably kill any of them with my flame," he continued. "And they might drop more cards?"
Daubutim blinked and looked around, then at the dead Imps and the tiny bits of ash still drifting in the air. Slowly a calculating shine came to his eyes. After a few seconds, he nodded, his mouth opening.
Before he could say anything, a distant cry echoed through the forest.
"Help, someone help!"
"That sounded like…" Irwin muttered as he tried to place the voice. He was sure he knew it, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't Greldo, but it sounded like a girl. For a moment he feared it was Twintin. Then he shook his head. He was sure he'd recognize her voice.
"Come!"
He looked up to see Daubutim jogging toward the sound. As he followed the noble, he tried to recall the person who belonged to the voice.
I'm sure I've heard it before, he thought.
Then the pain in his back flared up, and he stopped wondering about it as he clenched his teeth, following Daubutim.