> ...will be felt as a novel pressure upon the mind. Along with the initial card will be a set of four secondary cards, possessing ancillary to or enabling effects for the primary. It is of critical importance to not rush the formation of the secondary cards, but instead to let them ripen on their own. It is believed that the forces that induce carding, mysterious that they are, shape the cards in that short window to our realm. If they are forced in that critical moment, it is common to see ill-formed, incoherent, or otherwise useless cards form.

>

> Excerpt from chapter three of “A General Discussion on Carding'' by Alfrem Quillriq. Banned Text.

The instant Jack seized the card he could feel some kind of resistance to his mental pull, but hesitation at this point would mean death. In the moments he had only the vaguest impression of the card were available, a deeper understanding of its exact effects would demand his focused attention later.

He could sense something relating to acceleration–a dash? In desperation, he pushed on it to activate, willing himself back up to Slip; willing himself to the only glimmering thread that might let him keep his life.

With a tearing sensation in his mind that left a burning pain behind his eyes, the card activated. Jack felt himself flung towards the earth at a terrific speed, he barely held onto consciousness as the forces disrupted the flow of his blood. For a moment his vision disappeared, leaving him in reddish darkness. He was accelerating at a grotesque rate, faster than he had any hope of perceiving as his body suffered forces it couldn’t bear.

Suddenly he was on the ground, momentum gone. His vision faded in and out of focus. Everything around him was swimming as he staggered to his knees. The disorientation was overwhelming and soon he was bent over vomiting.

Every part of him ached; he could barely think but he was alive.

An ill-considered shout of triumph broke into a pained groan as the full disruption to his system made itself known. Maybe just hitting the ground would have been easier he mused to himself.

Slip was the first to arrive by his side. Her first words were garbled, and Jack struggled to understand what she was saying to him.

“I need you to take off your mask. Canary, can you take off your mask for me?” Slip was talking slowly, repeating herself before finally removing her own mask and gesturing at him.

Finally understanding came to him, and he reached up to pull it off. ‘How did it get so wet?’ he thought.

But then Slip was there, and as his face came clear he could see her face transform into a look of horror. Then she was reaching into a pocket, bringing out a twist-glow, which she held up to his face. Was she offering it to him? He reached to take it but she grabbed his hand before she flashed it into his face, brighter than he’d ever seen one before. He flinched away from the blinding light and wondered if it would be a good idea to throw up again or go to sleep. Going to sleep sounded very good right now.

“No. Canary you can’t sleep. You have a concussion. That card you used didn’t have any safeties on it. Do you understand? You’ve got dash-sickness.” Slip said.

How was Slip figuring out what he was thinking? A test was in order. ‘Are you reading my thoughts Slip?’ Jack thought at her.

Slip looked at him with concern. “You’re talking aloud Canary.”

“I’m talking aloud? But I don’t want anyone to know I threw up in my mask. Better not think about it.” Jack was silent for a moment. “Oh.”

At this opportune moment the others arrived. Gravel was quick to approach them while the others, hesitant, kept their distance.

“He’s concussed, I’m not sure how badly. You saw how he moved there. It must have been a miscard, without safeties I can scarcely believe he’s still conscious.” Slip spoke with authority but Jack realized that the hand holding his own was trembling.

“I’m alright Slip, don’t worry.” Jack tried to reassure her. “Just a bit woozy still.”

She ignored him, continuing to speak directly to Gravel. “With the forces he just took, there could be bleeding in his brain. We wouldn’t have any idea until he dropped dead.”

Jack finally began to realize that something was seriously wrong with him. Hearing Slip describe the risks he was facing, fear finally started to rouse again in his mind through the cloud of confusion.

“We get him to a medicos. They can keep him stable. If there’s pressure buildup they can give him a chance.” Gravel said.

But then, the unlikeliest of rescuers forced themselves into the mix.

“‘S like none a ya’s never seen a miscard before. Buncha nobles lappies.” Dart interrupted as she shouldered her way past Slip and Gravel. “’S a broken card yah? Now where do ya think the other pieces went huh?”

Dart crouched down by Jack, carefully avoiding the pile of sick he’d left. She grabbed his face and grimaced. “Ya’s really got messed up. Well, lights out birdboy.” Her hands flashed aglow and Jack slumped unconscious, falling into Dart’s lap as she controlled his fall.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Slip shouted as she came to pull Dart away, only for Racket to grab her hand.

“Let the woman work yah? She’s checkin’ ‘im.” Racket soothed.

“What do you mean she’s ‘checking’ him? Whatever folk cure she wants to offer, this isn’t the time. He could DIE, Racket! On my watch! Let alone that card! It nearly killed him on his first use! He miscarded and it’s my fault!” She was in tears at this point, voice filled with cracks as the stress of the moment caught up to her. “I will save him! Now let go of me.”

The fierceness in her voice took Racket aback, but he rallied.

“Shh shh. Now,” Racket hushed, “She’s not from ‘round here yah? Jus’ watch a spell. She’s got cards ya wouldn’t expect.”

Slip paused; looking over at Dart, whose hands gently glowed as she slowly traced the contours of Jack’s skull. Her eyes were closed, brow furrowed in concentration. Wherever she passed, a faint sheen lingered for a moment, before fading to nothing.

“You can help him?” Slip asked, her voice ragged but tinged with a desperate hope.

“Small touch I can do, but small is all he needs. The brain bleed is there, but is nah gonna kill him.” Dart replied. “If his card broke like I think, there’s nah a worry to keep. For his life a’ least.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Slip slumped at her words. Released from the immediate fear for Jack’s life, other worries rose to the surface.

“What do you mean broken card? You said that before. Can he fix it if it’s broken?” Mouse asked, concern evident in her voice as she joined the rest of them.

“No.” Gravel answered. “He had to rush his carding to survive that fall. But an initial card needs time to form. So what he has, it’s something fractured, incomplete. If he’s lucky his secondary cards are salvageable, but he’s lost his chance for his first carding.”

“‘S nah so bad as all that ya gloomers. But the next part he should be lively for yah? Now who wants to hold his head? I’m nah nursin’ the lad as he comes up to us.” Dart interrupted.

Gravel volunteered and took Jack’s weight from Dart, lifting him with ease. With Jack secured, Dart reached a hand over to his face and with a mystical flourish flicked him on the forehead.

Jack started awake with a jerk. Still groggy but feeling clearer headed than before, he was filled in on what transpired while he’d been under Dart’s care.

“So, I’m not going to die without warning? Dart, you healed me?” Jack inquired.

Dart made a so-so gesture with her hand, much to Slip’s exasperation.

“That’s... not exactly encouraging.” Jack said in response.

“Do nah consider yaself healed, more like, on ya feet for now.” She said.

“Okay, now that’s definitely not encouraging. Is anyone else encouraged? I’m temporarily not potentially dying?” Jack asked.

“Quiet now ya duffer! If ya can crack wise ya can listen. I be tryin’ to make it stick! All I can do is return ya to how ya were, make it like the source of ya ailment never was, for a time. If ya do nah have any protection it will strike ya again when my card falls off, and ya will be the same as ya were. Now from my ken, the folk in the city in general and ya in particular have little enough experience with miscards or broken cards yah?” Dart didn’t wait for an answer before beginning her explanation. “But I do, so pay heed! When a carding doesnah follow the proper way, like for ya, it tends to break in regulah ways. For one, the card tends to be strong, not worth much beyond a narrow use, but very strong. Now the speed ya had on that dash? I could barely follow ya movement, was faster than any of us have seen I suspect, from a single card.

Now, that comes with costs for ya, the rest of the pack ya’d get with it are all jumbled for one. But that’s for ya own good, they’re making room, see? The missing parts of the main card, they’re gonna be in ya other cards.”

“You want him to use his other cards? But the first one hurt him so badly. How can we be sure it will be safe?” Mouse interjected.

“How often have ya seen a regulah card do that to someone huh? They do nah hurt like that! The missing pieces that protect the lad, they’re in the other cards. He’s hurt ‘cause he didnah use ‘em.” Dart replied. “And they might save him now, afore my earlier work wears off, if he just takes a look.” This last sentence was delivered pointedly to Jack.

Jack, battered and anxious, looked inward to the other cards he’d received. He’d felt how his carding had gone… wrong, and was anxiously avoiding the evidence of the disaster.

Two cards were obviously unusable, he could feel the discordant mark they left on his mind when he focused his attention onto them. There was nothing to be salvaged in them, no matter the time he might spend trying to puzzle through them. For normal cards, the longer they were reflected upon the more the details of their exact functioning would become clear, to a point. Experience was always necessary to understand the true possibilities of a card. Meditating on a card could provide the surface level but true understanding could only come from use.

The first viable card seemed… unimpressive. It gave an initial impression of movement, but further focus revealed its full effect. When activated it would allow him to rotate his body freely around his own centre of mass for a short time, providing some minimal mobility when free-falling, but not hindering gravity’s pull in the slightest. Jack could imagine using it while standing and immediately falling on his face. Not useful.

The card that followed was the one he’d used earlier to such mixed results. He put further examination aside for later, but noted that there was still a feeling of viability to it, like there was another charge available.

The next appeared to be exactly the missing safety piece that Dart had described. The initial feeling was one of blood, and its movement in the body. He concentrated, letting his understanding deepen. An impression formed; while active, the card would keep his blood from being disrupted in his body by the forces of the dash card.

With a mental shrug and nothing to lose, he activated the card. There didn’t seem to be any immediate effect. Opening his eyes, he said as much to those gathered around him.

Dart made a gesture with her hand. For a moment Jack felt lightheaded, but it passed almost immediately.

“Did you...? Did you just end your effect?” He asked.

“And ya are nah a heap on the ground.” She mimed a courtly bow. “Consider yaself saved, with my compliments.”

Jack laughed. “Warn a guy before risking his life, why don’t you?”

He was being glib with the others, but inside he was nearly numb. What had happened still hadn’t settled in. He could remember how he’d been behaving before Dart had done... whatever it was she’d done. He’d only ever been that disassociated with a fever. But this had been direct damage to his brain, and he flinched away from the possibility that it could have been permanent, and went to the question of how it had happened in the first place.

“Where was the wind?” Jack asked. “I heard the chime rattle and I leapt, but it didn’t come until… it didn’t come until the worst moment.”

Racket spoke up. “A nightbird alighted onto the branch, and the rattle spooked it up again, I saw the shadow of it heading off. I’m sorry lad, I didnah realize what I’d seen until you were already out and over.”

Jack stood stupefied. “It was just a bird, and bad luck. My first carding is... this because of a—” He cut himself off as the reality hit him. All of his plans, his obligations to his family, were in disarray. He was lucky to be alive, but his future was in flux.

“Well it’s nah all so bad.” Racket spoke with an uncharacteristic softness. “It’s a dash the like I’ve nah seen. Ya could cross the city in a few minutes with it I’d think.”

Racket’s words struck Jack like a hammer. He’d forgotten in the chaos that followed, but he’d been trying to dash back up to Slip; so why had he fallen to the ground of the alley? He shifted his attention to that erstwhile card and let his focus deepen his understanding of it, eyes glazing over while he turned inward. Why had it responded so contrary to his will? His meditation brought comprehension, and with it any vestige of appreciation for the card faded away.

“It’s not a dash. It drags me to the earth! That’s all it does!” Jack couldn’t keep the frustration from this voice. “It enhances the pull of the earth to the limit of what my body can take. I’ll never ‘dash’ anywhere but down!”

The full reality of Jack’s circumstance was becoming clear and any positive spirit left in the night was gone.

Racket and Dart were quick to leave after that, Racket with such a bleak disposition that Jack nearly roused himself to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, but Dart shook her head when he opened his mouth.

Mouse gave him a lingering look, which he acknowledged with a nod. After that Mouse left quietly, glancing back at Jack only once. Then it was just Slip, Gravel, and Jack standing silently in a dark alley.

Jack shut his eyes and let his thoughts roam. The night had been a disaster. He’d nearly died and had miscarded despite all his efforts. To top that, the card was broken, corrupting the secondary cards that came with it, and had no practical use case he could see. It might save him from certain falls, but there were many other more reliable cards for that purpose.

He had one more chance to card a primary with its four supporting secondary cards, before his rate of carding slowed to individual cards, trickling out over months. If he failed to receive a useful primary at his next carding, it would be years before his deck ratio would be even remotely favourable.

But dwelling on these facts for long was not in his nature, and so he set aside the impulse to ruminate. It wasn’t yet clear to him what his next steps were going to be, but he wouldn’t let these setbacks dictate his future. If he’d carded by encountering his first life-and-death stakes, this was perhaps a pattern he needed to repeat, but purposefully. Next time he would ensure it was actually oriented to the needs of his family, giving him an edge to strengthen their business.

Now calmed by a direction, if not a plan, he opened his eyes. The world was waiting.