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Book 2: Chapter 8: Card Rot

This earned him a scowl as she closed the distance between them. "Don't tell me you've been on the hunt, too?"

"The... hunt?"

"For cards!" she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. "Not like there's any to go around here. Have you ever seen a hive's city this tiny? They have only a handful of card shops. And of course, they’re scattered in all directions and it’s like somebody has cleaned them out."

She glanced over her shoulder as she spoke, still frowning at the retreating figure in scholar's robes.

"Was he an attendant?" Arthur asked. He could imagine a noble lady like Cressida would not be allowed to walk around unaccompanied in the middle of the night in a strange city. Then again, the man was walking away now.

She shook her head. "A cousin, and not a favorite one.” Her dark look returned. “Why don’t any of the shops have anything but cards suitable for farmers?"

"They're not that bad," Arthur said, a little stung.

She gave him a look.

"They have a great selection,” he insisted out of a sense of local pride

"Ah ha!" She wagged a finger at him. "You were searching for knowledge-type cards for the dragon!"

She was slightly too wild-eyed and there were darker bags under her eyes now visible in the light.

Arthur spoke slowly "You heard me make a deal with Valentina. My goal isn't a Rare dragon."

She blinked and then slumped, rubbing at her eyes. "Of course. Forgive me. It's been a long night, and when I saw you out here, I assumed... well, it doesn't matter."

"You've been searching for cards all night?" he asked.

She nodded. "Either the lack of variety around this hive is criminal. Or others have gotten there first and bought out the supply."

He very much doubted that. The other nobles and Rare hopefuls had fled at the thought of a scourge-ridden dragon. Cressida might be the only one in all the hive willing to try her hand.

"I even went to my cousin, Jayer." She waved a hand in the direction of the scholar. "You know what they say about the scholar's guild, but he's such a stickler for the rules..." She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “It’s ridiculous. I’m hitting walls wherever I go!”

"No, I don't know what they say about the guild," Arthur admitted. "Remember, my father's barony is in the back end of nowhere."

"Well, I'm not talking about the blue rumors of what they get up to under those robes." Cressida's smile faded when he didn't smile back, obviously not understanding. Her eyebrows went up. "Never mind. I'm talking about the scholar’s library, of course. They horde knowledge and meta cards like a broody hen over her eggs -- you remember that small bruhaha five years ago?"

"We don't get much news out in the backend, either," Arthur said. He touched her elbow to guide her down the street toward the direction where he knew several vendors set up carts to provide early morning food. The ones which provided baked goods kept early hours. And, frankly, Cressida still looked wild-eyed from her night of frantic searching. She could use something to eat.

They turned the corner and Arthur saw several carts setting up. The smell of baked goods rose in the air.

"That smells wonderful," Cressida said. "I've been up all night on this."

She strode forward as if she was about to demand to be fed right then and there. Arthur pulled her back.

"They're still setting up. We're early, even for the bakers. Tell me about what happened with the scholars.”

Cressida gave him a side-long look. "You say you're from the backend, but so am I. It was the talk of the kingdom."

He shrugged. Perhaps it was in noble circles, but five years ago he had been living in a border town that was little more than a death camp. He didn't know how to read, and no kingdom criers came to deliver the latest reports. "Maybe I've heard but forgot. Tell me anyway, and I'll buy you a pastry."

Her smile was slight. "You drive a hard bargain, Ernest, but... I suppose." Then, to his surprise, she once again wound her arm through his so they could walk together along the canal which bordered the street. This time, though, she pulled him close and spoke softly to keep the conversation between the two of them. "You have at least heard of the scholar's grand library?"

Arthur nodded, even though he hadn't. He didn't want to come off as too ignorant.

"Well, what's lesser known are the smaller regional libraries scattered across the kingdom. That way if a scholar wants to pursue a niche subject like, oh, the study of a variety of hazelnut specific to a region, they go to that library, stick an appropriate card in their anchor tattoo, and research their heart's content."

Arthur nodded along. This made sense. He also wished his old orphanage headmistress, Freyja, had explained that scholar's guilds had access to card libraries. Likely, it wouldn't have changed his mind, but he might have found some use for them...

"Well," Cressida continued, "some of the scholars have been getting lazy over the last decade or so. And," she lowered her voice further, "it's said the king's men weren't spot-checking the libraries as they ought."

Arthur thought he knew where this was going. "The cards rotted?"

Cressida nodded. "Not just a few, either. By the time it was discovered, and a survey was taken... several whole libraries were practically useless. Thousands of cards were gone including several Legendries and, it's said, a Mythic."

Arthur grimaced.

Cards couldn't rot like a piece of fruit left out, but it wasn't too far from the truth either.

Magic cards left sitting out without being added to a deck and used eventually lost their integrity and crumbled away. Common cards, which held the weakest magic, were said to be safe for up to six months unused outside of a deck. Uncommon cards, several years. The length went up from there.

To lose a powerful Legendries, or, even more unthinkable, a Mythic was... criminal.

"Several high scholars lost their heads," Cressida commented.

He nodded, feeling that was just punishment.

Each of those cards represented power and health to someone who was uncarded. It could mean the difference between life and death out among the borders.

It was distasteful the scholars hoarded them for themselves but not a surprise. Nobles and families of great wealth did it. But to then let those cards rot, unused...

All those cards were forever gone from the world. All that magic was wasted. Sets that could never be created.

By this time, they had reached the vendor carts. Arthur a few coppers from his hard-earned money to purchase sweet rolls and a bitter hot tea that was famous for pepping people up for the morning.

Something interesting happened at his first sip.

Thanks to an infusion of black tea, your base stamina has temporarily been increased by one point. This is a temporary effect and will result in a three-point temporary backlash once the effect wears off.

Time left: 4 hours 59 minutes, 59 seconds.

You have gained a skill:

Exhaustion resistance (stamina)

He blinked. Was that why he sometimes felt worse after drinking morning tea? This had hardly been his first all-nighter or the first he had sipped the strong tea to combat it. Though now he thought about it, he did usually feel awful by the afternoon. He thought that was due to his lack of sleep.

Also exhaustion resistance was a valuable skill to acquire.

His thoughts were derailed as Cressida made a very... distracting sound on her first bite of pastry.

"This is divine," she exclaimed, and then promptly tipped a copper to the smiling vendor.

Then, slipping her arm within Arthur's again, she hastened him down the street. Arthur was happy to go. He had a shift at Bob's but otherwise, his day was free until the Leaders called for him. Besides, it seemed Cressida had something in mind.

As soon as they were some way down the street and not likely to be overheard she asked, "How is the dragon? Is he okay?"

"She," he said, "And yes. Time doesn't pass for whatever I store so she's in the exact same condition as last night."

"She," Cressida repeated a little wonder in her voice. "Can you possibly bring her out? Just for a moment? Not in the street in plain view, of course. But..." She trailed off as Arthur shook his head.

"That wouldn't be a good idea," he said, low.

"I wouldn't tell anyone--"

He shook his head and glanced around, though he didn't see anyone. "Do you think," he said carefully, "Whitaker and Valentina would just let me skip off through the hive and the city without somehow keeping an eye on me? With an unlinked Rare in my storage?”

Cressida's green eyes widened, and she looked around, but Arthur already knew she wouldn't see anyone. He hadn't gotten an indication he had a follower either. Nothing from his skills, no sounds he couldn’t explain, not even a feeling of being watched.

Just his logic.

He had a Stealth skill, but a specialist with a strong Stealth-based card -- one who used mana to aid them -- could beat any skill.

Cressida seemed to come to the same conclusion. After a moment's fruitlessly looking around, her gaze returned to him. She leaned in close and whispered. "Then be sure to watch the shadows."

"The shadows?" he repeated.

She nodded and cut her eyes to the side, back down the street. "Stealth powers bend the light around them, but they don't always work on the shadows." Then, in a louder voice meant to carry she said, "Yes, Ernest, you may accompany me back to the hive if you wish."

He found he didn't have a choice in the matter. Not that he minded.

They walked along the slowly wakening streets and finished the rest of their pastries.

"So," Arthur said, "you never told me what you wanted from your scholarly cousin. Forgive me, but the conversation looked… Intense."

Cressida frowned, but Arthur got the impression it wasn't at him. "I told you about their scholarly libraries. They have one here. A rather good size library, for the size of this place," she sniffed, reminding him of his friend Horatio. He had been dismissive of the size of the hive and city, too.

"And I was hoping to… Take a look at some of their cards. See if there was the possibility of a trade."

Arthur translated that as bribe.

"He said no?"

She sniffed. "Unequivocally. Said that only those in the scholars guild were allowed access to the library. That’s an excuse dipped in dragon soil. I was allowed access to my village’s scholarly library."

Arthur knew the reason why. "Could that be because you are the daughter of a powerful noble?"

"And I am still the daughter of a powerful noble," she snapped, turning, frustrated, to glare at him. “That's how these things work."

He very much wanted to tell her that ‘the way things worked’ was unfair, and she was being a brat for throwing her family’s weight and reputation around to gain access to restricted areas.

That was the type of thing Arthur Rowantree would say. Ernest Kane would agree with Cressida.

He couldn't make himself do it.

To his surprise, Cressida did not double down on her assertion. The fight seemed to drain out of her. She sighed, leaning against him a little. "It doesn't matter. The scholars have a nasty habit of letting their cards go to rot, and I can tell you that there aren't enough of them here to take care of everything and that's in that library. But even if I could find good, whole cards, and convince the scholars to trade… I don't know if I would be picking the right card for her." Her eyes went to Arthur's chest, almost as if she could see the dragon inside.

"Dragons only choose based on the cards in your heart, not in a card anchor tattoo," Arthur confirmed.

"Not that I would ever get a tattoo," she said, loftily. Again, she deflated. "I suppose I could pick a short list and try them in my heart deck one by one. If the cards were only there for a moment…"

Arthur shook his head vigorously. "Have you ever taken a card out of your heart?"

He felt Cressida shudder in revulsion as she shook her head.

"I have," he said.

She turned to stare at him. "What? When? Why?"

"I was just a boy, and the card had been in my heart for less than a day. But… part of it had already become part of me. It hurt like a bruise." He tapped his chest, meaningfully. "And it didn't get better until eventually, I replaced the card.”

Cressida continued staring, shock mixed with a bit of admiration in her gaze. He could tell she wanted to press more, but Arthur wasn't going to tell the entire story.

"The point is whatever you stick in your heart becomes part of you."

"Everybody knows that."

"There's a difference between knowing something and experiencing something," he said, with emphasis. "If you get the chance to choose from the library… I suggest you pick something that you can live with. Because once you put it in your heart, I don't think you'll be able to take it out again."

Slowly, Cressida nodded, and they walked the rest of the way to the hive in silence.

All the while, Arthur kept his attention on the shadows, looking at them out of the corner of his eye.

Nothing seemed odd, and if he was being followed, the person doing it wasn't so careless as to let the long cast of a morning shadow stand out.

At least until they got to the hive entrance.

The guarded archway was bracketed by several torches which had been lit during the night but hadn't yet been put out for the morning.

The sunrise was still just dim enough to allow the fires to cast crazy shadows. And in them, just for a moment, Arthur caught a glimpse of a head and shoulders that didn't belong to him or Cressida. And it was too far away to have come from either one of the standing guards.

He exchanged a few words with the guard on duty and glanced casually back the way that he had come. No one stood visibly behind him, but he had no doubt: he was being carefully watched.

This earned him a scowl as she closed the distance between them. "Don't tell me you've been on the hunt, too?"

"The... hunt?"

"For cards!" she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. "Not like there's any to go around here. Have you ever seen a hive's city this tiny? They have only a handful of card shops. And of course, they’re scattered in all directions and it’s like somebody has cleaned them out."

She glanced over her shoulder as she spoke, still frowning at the retreating figure in scholar's robes.

"Was he an attendant?" Arthur asked. He could imagine a noble lady like Cressida would not be allowed to walk around unaccompanied in the middle of the night in a strange city. Then again, the man was walking away now.

She shook her head. "A cousin, and not a favorite one.” Her dark look returned. “Why don’t any of the shops have anything but cards suitable for farmers?"

"They're not that bad," Arthur said, a little stung.

She gave him a look.

"They have a great selection,” he insisted out of a sense of local pride

"Ah ha!" She wagged a finger at him. "You were searching for knowledge-type cards for the dragon!"

She was slightly too wild-eyed and there were darker bags under her eyes now visible in the light.

Arthur spoke slowly "You heard me make a deal with Valentina. My goal isn't a Rare dragon."

She blinked and then slumped, rubbing at her eyes. "Of course. Forgive me. It's been a long night, and when I saw you out here, I assumed... well, it doesn't matter."

"You've been searching for cards all night?" he asked.

She nodded. "Either the lack of variety around this hive is criminal, or others have gotten there first and bought out the supply."

He very much doubted that. The other nobles and Rare hopefuls had fled at the thought of a scourge-infected dragon. Cressida might be the only one in all the hive willing to try her hand.

"I even went to my cousin, Jayer." She waved a hand in the direction of the scholar. "You know what they say about the scholar's guild, but he's such a stickler for the rules..." She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “It’s ridiculous. I’m hitting walls wherever I go!”

"No, I don't know what they say about the guild," Arthur admitted. "Remember, my father's barony is in the back end of nowhere."

"Well, I'm not talking about the blue rumors of what they get up to under those robes." Cressida's smile faded when he didn't smile back, obviously not understanding. Her eyebrows went up. "Never mind. I'm talking about the scholar’s library, of course. They horde knowledge and meta cards like a broody hen over her eggs -- you remember that small bruhaha five years ago?"

"We don't get much news out in the backend, either," Arthur said. He touched her elbow to guide her down the street toward the direction where he knew several vendors set up carts to provide early morning food. The ones which provided baked goods kept early hours. And, frankly, Cressida still looked wild-eyed from her night of frantic searching. She could use something to eat.

They turned the corner and Arthur saw several carts setting up. The smell of baked goods rose in the air.

"That smells wonderful," Cressida said. She strode forward as if she was about to demand to be fed right then and there. Arthur pulled her back.

"They're still setting up. We're early, even for the bakers. Tell me about what happened with the scholars.”

Cressida gave him a side-long look. "You say you're from the back end, but so am I. It was the talk of the kingdom."

He shrugged. Perhaps it was in noble circles, but five years ago he had been living in a border town that was little more than a death camp. He didn't know how to read, and no kingdom criers came to deliver the latest reports. "Maybe I've heard but forgot. Tell me anyway, and I'll buy you a pastry."

Her smile was slight. "You drive a hard bargain, Ernest, but... I suppose." Then, to his surprise, she once again wound her arm through his so they could walk together along the canal which bordered the street. This time, though, she pulled him close and spoke softly to keep the conversation between the two of them. "You have at least heard of the scholar's grand library?"

Arthur nodded, even though he hadn't. He didn't want to come off as too ignorant.

"Well, what's lesser known are the smaller regional libraries scattered across the kingdom. That way if a scholar wants to pursue a niche subject like, oh, the study of a variety of hazelnut specific to a region, they go to that library, stick an appropriate card in their anchor tattoo, and research their heart's content."

Arthur nodded along. This made sense. He also wished his old orphanage headmistress, Freyja, had explained that scholar's guilds had access to card libraries. Likely, it wouldn't have changed his mind, but he might have found some use for them...

"Well," Cressida continued, "some of the scholars have been getting lazy over the last decade or so. And," she lowered her voice further, "it's said the king's men weren't spot-checking the libraries as they ought."

Arthur thought he knew where this was going. "The cards rotted?"

Cressida nodded. "Not just a few, either. By the time it was discovered, and a survey was taken... several whole libraries were practically useless. Thousands of cards were gone including several Legendries and, it's said, a Mythic."

Arthur grimaced.

Cards couldn't rot like a piece of fruit left out, but it wasn't too far from the truth either.

Magic cards left sitting out without being added to a deck and used eventually lost their integrity and crumbled away. Common cards, which held the weakest magic, were said to be safe for up to six months unused outside of a deck. Uncommon cards, several years. The length went up from there.

To lose a powerful Legendries, or, even more unthinkable, a Mythic was... criminal.

"Several high scholars lost their heads," Cressida commented.

He nodded, feeling that was just punishment.

Each of those cards represented power and health to someone who was uncarded. It could mean the difference between life and death out among the borders.

It was distasteful the scholars hoarded them for themselves but not a surprise. Nobles and families of great wealth did it. But to then let those cards rot, unused...

All those cards were forever gone from the world. All that magic was wasted. Sets that could never be created.

By this time, they had reached the vendor carts. Arthur a few coppers from his hard-earned money to purchase sweet rolls and a bitter hot tea that was famous for pepping people up for the morning.

Something interesting happened at his first sip.

Thanks to an infusion of black tea, your base stamina has temporarily been increased by one point. This is a temporary effect and will result in a three-point temporary backlash once the effect wears off.

Time left: 4 hours 59 minutes, 59 seconds.

You have gained a skill:

Exhaustion resistance (stamina)

He blinked. Was that why he sometimes felt worse after drinking morning tea? This had hardly been his first all-nighter or the first he had sipped the strong tea to combat it. Though now he thought about it, he did usually feel awful by the afternoon. He thought that was due to his lack of sleep.

Also exhaustion resistance was a valuable skill to acquire.

His thoughts were derailed as Cressida made a very... distracting sound on her first bite of pastry.

"This is divine," she exclaimed, and then promptly tipped a copper to the smiling vendor.

Then, slipping her arm within Arthur's again, she hastened him down the street. Arthur was happy to go. He had a shift at Bob's but otherwise, his day was free until the hive leaders called for him. Besides, it seemed Cressida had something in mind.

As soon as they were some way down the street and not likely to be overheard she asked, "How is the dragon? Is he okay?"

"She," he said, "And yes. Time doesn't pass for whatever I store so she's in the exact same condition as last night."

"She," Cressida repeated a little wonder in her voice. "Can you possibly bring her out? Just for a moment? Not in the street in plain view, of course. But..." She trailed off as Arthur shook his head.

"That wouldn't be a good idea," he said, low.

"I wouldn't tell anyone--"

He shook his head and glanced around, though he didn't see anyone. "Do you think," he said carefully, "Whitaker and Valentina would just let me skip off through the hive and the city without somehow keeping an eye on me? With an unlinked Rare in my storage?”

Cressida's green eyes widened, and she looked around, but Arthur already knew she wouldn't see anyone. He hadn't gotten an indication he had a follower either. Nothing from his skills, no sounds he couldn’t explain, not even a feeling of being watched.

Just his logic.

He had a Stealth skill, but a specialist with a strong Stealth-based card -- one who used mana to aid them -- could beat any skill.

Cressida seemed to come to the same conclusion. After a moment's fruitlessly looking around, her gaze returned to him. She leaned in close and whispered. "Then be sure to watch the shadows."

"The shadows?" he repeated.

She nodded and cut her eyes to the side, back down the street. "Stealth powers bend the light around them, but they don't always work on the shadows." Then, in a louder voice meant to carry she said, "Yes, Ernest, you may accompany me back to the hive if you wish."

He found he didn't have a choice in the matter. Not that he minded.

They walked along the slowly wakening streets and finished the rest of their pastries.

"So," Arthur said, "you never told me what you wanted from your scholarly cousin. Forgive me, but the conversation looked… Intense."

Cressida frowned, but Arthur got the impression it wasn't at him. "I told you about their scholarly libraries. They have one here. A rather good size library, for the size of this place," she sniffed, reminding him of his friend Horatio. He had been dismissive of the size of the hive and city, too.

"And I was hoping to take a look at some of their cards. See if there was the possibility of a trade."

Arthur translated that as bribe.

"He said no?"

She sniffed. "Unequivocally. Said that only those in the scholars guild were allowed access to the library. That’s an excuse dipped in dragon soil. I was allowed access to my village’s scholarly library."

Arthur knew the reason why. "Could that be because you are the daughter of a powerful noble?"

"And I am still the daughter of a powerful noble," she snapped, turning, frustrated, to glare at him. “That's how these things work."

He very much wanted to tell her that ‘the way things worked’ was unfair, and she was being a brat for throwing her family’s weight and reputation around to gain access to restricted areas.

That was the type of thing Arthur Rowantree would say. Ernest Kane would agree with Cressida.

He couldn't make himself do it.

To his surprise, Cressida did not double down on her assertion. The fight seemed to drain out of her. She sighed, leaning against him a little. "It doesn't matter. The scholars have a nasty habit of letting their cards go to rot, and I can tell you that there aren't enough of them here to take care of everything and that's in that library. But even if I could find good, whole cards, and convince the scholars to trade… I don't know if I would be picking the right card for her." Her eyes went to Arthur's chest, almost as if she could see the dragon inside.

"Dragons only choose based on the cards in your heart, not in a card anchor tattoo," Arthur confirmed.

"Not that I would ever get a tattoo," she said, loftily. Again, she deflated. "I suppose I could pick a short list and try them in my heart deck one by one. If the cards were only there for a moment…"

Arthur shook his head vigorously. "Have you ever taken a card out of your heart?"

He felt Cressida shudder in revulsion as she shook her head.

"I have," he said.

She turned to stare at him. "What? When? Why?"

"I was just a boy, and the card had been in my heart for less than a day. But… part of it had already become part of me. It hurt like a constant bruise." He tapped his chest, meaningfully. "And it didn't get better until eventually, I replaced the card.”

Cressida continued staring, shock mixed with a bit of admiration in her gaze. He could tell she wanted to press more, but Arthur wasn't going to tell the entire story.

"The point is whatever you stick in your heart becomes part of you."

"Everybody knows that."

"There's a difference between knowing something and experiencing something," he said, with emphasis. "If you get the chance to choose from the library… I suggest you pick something that you can live with. Because once you put it in your heart, I don't think you'll be able to take it out again."

Slowly, Cressida nodded, and they walked the rest of the way to the hive in silence.

All the while, Arthur kept his attention on the shadows, looking at them out of the corner of his eye.

Nothing seemed odd, and if he was being followed, the person doing it wasn't so careless as to let the long cast of a morning shadow stand out.

At least until they got to the hive entrance.

The guarded archway was bracketed by several torches which had been lit during the night but hadn't yet been put out for the morning.

The sunrise was still just dim enough to allow the fires to cast crazy shadows. And in them, just for a moment, Arthur caught a glimpse of a head and shoulders that didn't belong to him or Cressida. And it was too far away to have come from either one of the standing guards.

He exchanged a few words with the guard on duty and glanced casually back the way that he had come. No one stood visibly behind him, but he had no doubt: he was being carefully watched.