“… get up, little potato…”
A gentle voice muffled inside Shouren’s ears, as he groggily lifted his eyelids to see better. Rhea smiled once she saw her grandson was awake and turned around to resume her earlier task.
Shouren groaned as he felt his face, and body sting from last night’s beating. There was a slight puffiness to the injuries but nothing that would leave a mark, save for his pride. Neither him nor Rhea mentioned any medicine or potion, as they both knew neither of them had the chronas.
“Do you need help?”
The young boy slowly got up on his feet and asked in a hoarse voice. He tentatively stretched out his arms and legs and was relieved nothing was fractured or broken. He made his way to his grandmother, who was currently hunched over the only table they had in the house.
“Hand me the spell card over there, potato.”
Rhea spoke without lifting her weary head, as a pale gray glow coated around her hands. Beads of sweat pearled near her forehead, but the old lady paid no heed to it. Her full focus was on the contents spread on the shoddy table.
Shouren nodded without hesitation and sprung to the corner of the room where his grandmother stored her spell cards. Sitting atop a dreary flat wooden box the size of his two palms, an unassuming gray card remained in place. No one even had to lock the wooden box, as not even a thief would bother opening it for a common ‘Create Puddle’ spell card.
Quickly grabbing the spell card, Shouren rushed to his grandmother’s aide and gingerly placed it on the table.
“Thank you, potato. Now tell me, what are the 3 main duties of a Cardsmith?”
The wrinkles on Rhea’s face eased, her bright hazel irises eying the young boy inquisitively. In contrast to her frail body and withering skin, the old woman’s eyes were astonishingly bright. The gray light around her hands intensified as the lumen wrapped itself around the new spell card and began tearing it apart.
Shouren grumbled under his breath, but relented once he saw the eager look in his grandmother’s eyes. He’d bring up his secret plan to Rhea later. She wouldn’t approve, but after last night, Shouren no longer had a choice.
“The first role is Sharding. To break the card’s lumen into smaller shards so a Cardist can absorb them to increase their synchronization rate.”
The young boy rolled his eyes as he detailed the explanation out. His grandmother had instilled it into him since he knew how to speak. To advance in tiers, every Cardist had to reach at least 80% synchronization with their class card before they could attempt to evolve to the next tier. The vast majority were simply stuck at Tier 0 and never undergoing their first evolution to Tier 1.
At the same time, on the table, the ‘Create Puddle’ spell card was ripped into 5 uneven shards and joined the other shards hovering over the table. 5 was the maximum number of shards Rhea could salvage from a Tier 0 spell card.
“The second ro-“
The boy was mid-sentence when Rhea promptly interrupted him. Her eyes remained glued to the new shards floating in front of her.
“Why is Sharding so important to Cardists?”
Her tone was no longer jovial, a heaviness set in her voice. Even though the old woman wasn’t facing Shouren, the boy knew her attention was grained to his voice. Rhea would turn into different person whenever the topic was about Cardsmiths. It’s why the usually caring grandmother adamantly refused to let Shouren pick any class except for the Cardsmith.
“Sharding breaks the lumen inside a card and allows any Cardist to absorb them. If the insights in the shard resonate with their class card, it can push up their synchronization, bringing them closer to evolution. Without Sharding, it can take years for a normal person to reach Tier 1. Also, the Sharding ability is exclusive to Cardsmiths.”
Shouren recited in a practiced manner. This was simply one of the countless times Rhea had asked him the same question. He added in the last sentence because he knew his grandmother was happy at the mention of a Cardsmith’s importance.
Looking around their barely furnished shack and the rotting roof, Shouren pointedly decided not to argue about it. Whatever made his grandmother happy. For now.
“I almost forgot, little potato, your birthday is in a few days-“
Rhea hummed happily. Her hands crawled to a still as the lumen retreated back inside her body, and the shards gradually descended onto the table. Her order for the merchant was completed and the chronas from this job should secure food for her and Shouren this month.
“Let me finish reciting the roles of a Cardsmith, grandma! The second ro-“
Shouren sat up straight in panic and waved his hand in front of Rhea. He desperately needed to avoid that conversation now, not until his secret plan was in action. As if mocking, the boy could feel the invisible glare of the common Cardsmith class card stashed inside the same wooden box. It was the only class card that they had. And if Shouren had anything to do with it, it would have been sharded long ago or exchanged for another class card.
However, before the boy could distract the older lady any further, their door swung open with a crash.
Both the grandmother and grandson pair winced at the noise, but even more at the splinters that brook loose at the bottom. Great, now their door needed repair as well.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
A lone man walked through, unfazed by the minor property damage he’d just caused. Dressed in simple khaki trousers and a brown tunic, the man’s dark eyes surveyed the room in obvious distaste. His nose crinkled in annoyance at the sight, but quickly reverted his expression when he saw Rhea’s eyes were on him.
“I apologize for the intrusion, Cardsmith. But I need the spell card back, along with the advance I gave you.”
The merchant clearly wasn’t sorry, but at least pretended to be remorseful by offering the old woman a polite bow. Shouren quickly put it together that this was the merchant who’d recently commissioned Rhea to shard a common spell card.
“What do you mean, Master Boris? You already signed the contract and the terms were very clear. In trade for a common spell card, I have to give you 4 shards in return. Here, I was just about to notify you that the order was completed.”
Rhea frowned at the merchant’s statement. As a Tier 0 Cardsmith, Rhea could extract 5 shards from a common spell card while most other Tier 0 Cardsmiths could only extract 4 shards. This was only due to the knowledge passed down from the line of Cardsmiths in their family. No other Cardsmith would have taken the deal that Master Boris offered except for Rhea. If not for the availability of the Tier 1 Cardsmith in town, Rhea would have been the popular choice for many.
“My sincerest apologies, Cardsmith. I just found out that a new Tier 0 party of Cardists were entering the dungeon for the first time, and their member requested for a ‘Create Puddle’ spell card. As you know, the guilds have been breathing down our necks and fulfilling this request will make things smoother between them and the merchant guilds.”
Master Boris pompously bowed again, displaying his remorse at reneging on the contract.
Rhea froze at the merchant’s words. The realisation of what was happening sunk into her with dread. Master Boris had never intended to pay for his part of the contract. This was a ploy from the start to extort her.
No one would beleive the nonsense that a lowly ‘Create Puddle’ spell card was that important. Any Cardist could buy it in the market for a few chronas. It was ridiculous to think that the friction between the guilds had anything to do with the contract she made with the merchant.
The old woman’s hazel eyes hardened as she glared back at the merchant.
“What do you want?”
Any pretense of respect or politeness left her voice.
“Unless you can forge the shards back into the ‘Create Puddle’ spell card, I want 6 shards.”
Master Boris stood up straight with a sneer, knowing both parties had realised that the ruse was up. It wasn’t his fault that the shriveled old lady begged him desperately in the market a few days ago to hire her services. He didn’t even care about a measly few shards from a common spell card. This was the punishment for the dirty woman who dared to touch his clothes with her filthy hands.
He couldn’t berrate her in the market or else he’d lose his contacts and reputation. He gave her the falsehood of signing the contract and even magnanmously handed out the spell card to her. She was simply a fossil with one foot in the grave, and as a Tier 0 Cardist, she didn’t even have access to the full features of the system to enforce the contract.
“I’ll give you back the 5 shards I extracted from the spell card. If you don’t accept, I’ll file a complaint against your guild to the governor.”
Rhea’s bony hands trembled with distress but her voice remained steady. Meanwhile, Shouren’s eyes quivered at seeing the look of helplessness in his grandmother. They were all the same.
Favian… and the merchants… and the guilds…
They lived a cushy life and had plenty of chronas to spend. Why did they continue to torment the poor people? Why did no one stop them? Where were all the righteous Cardists?
“Sure, go ahead and complain. In the meantime, I’ll take ownership of this house and all its contents until this matter is settled with the authorities. After all, it’s fully your right to lodge a complaint.”
Master Boris rubbed his chin gloatingly. Without a system-enforced contract, it was meaningless to complain. No one would care about what a Tier 0 had to say.
“I’m sorry… here’s your 6 shards…”
The old lady held back a sob as she picked up the 5 shards on the table along with an extra one from the original pile. She couldn’t let Shouren see her in tatters.
It was futile. The merchant came in prepared for any defiance. He’d planned it out from the beginning. Even if Rhea complained, the process alone defeat her. The governor’s estate cared little for a conflict involving a couple shards.
By losing that single vital shard, Rhea only had a few days before they’d run out of chronas for food. She accepted her death long ago, but she couldn’t give up yet for the boy’s sake. He needed to survive. She’d scavenge the house to find anything that she could sell.
Master Boris grinned as he plucked the shards from Rhea’s wrinkled hand and turned around to leave.
On the side, Shouren stared at the merchant’s back and muttered something.
“I’ll kill you…”
“Did you say something to me, runt?”
Master Boris furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t like the rude way that brat had been glaring at him. Thankfully, only Rhea could properly hear what Shouren said.
“It was just his stomach growling, Master Boris. Please have a good day.”
Rhea grabbed the boy with her leathery arm, and shielded him from the merchant’s sight. It sickened her to be polite to the very man that extorted her and her grandson from food, but Shouren’s life was more important. Openly threatening the merchant would give him cause to kill the boy.
“Hmm. Don’t bother me again, Cardsmith. I won’t be as kind as I am today.”
Master Boris grunted in irritation and left the house.
A dejected silence spread in the empty room. A chilly breeze leaked through the damaged door, enveloping the two figures in the center.
“Anger will make you lose yourself, little potato. Try to forgive.”
Rhea soothed the boy, feeling his body tremble underneath her. A wetness seeped into her hand that was holding the boy.
Shouren’s face stung from the tears rolling down his cheeks.
His grandmother was wrong about one thing. Shouren wasn’t angry.
The boy’s hazel’s eyes marred crimson with the blood vessels threatening to pop out. The tears were his body’s response to cool the heat accumulating within his irises. Rhea had been with the boy since he was born, but even she failed to grasp the true nature of her grandson.
No, Shouren wasn’t angry.
The boy slowly lifted his hand and tightly hugged the thin and frail body of his grandmother. In the morose room and desolate room, his hazel eyes pulsed with a flash of dark maroon.
No, Shouren wasn’t angry.
He was mad with rage.
And he wasn’t born to forgive.
