Irwin's Journey chapter 2: To Card or not to Card (Patreon)

But I don't want my first card to be a utility card, Irwin thought lamely as he pressed his back against the door. Someone's first card was said to be the most important one and would form and shape the person he would be. What would this card make of him? A glorified candle-lighter?

He knew he was being unreasonable. Most kids in town didn't ever get a card. It was just… He'd so hoped for something to fix his rickety body! Never being able to run along with the others or run away when Joachim and Bim decided they wanted to do to him what their fathers did to them.

Taking a deep sigh, he was about to move to the bed when he picked up the soft mutter from the room.

What was that?

Knowing he wasn't supposed to, he placed his ear to the door.

"No, I didn't tell him," his mother whispered. Her voice was so soft he knew he'd never hear it if he hadn't put his ear to the door. He also knew she would be upset if she found him listening in. In such a small house, respecting each other's privacy was paramount… but…

"You should. If he hears tomorrow from-"

"Bronwyn, enough," his mother snapped, and he knew he'd have heard that.

Even with his ear on the door, he couldn't hear Brownyn's reply, but he almost started when the front door was yanked open.

"I'll be back late," his mother said. "Make sure to wake Irwin in time and tell him- by Brel. Irwin? I know you can hear me! I'll come around the school during the break- make sure you are there; the teachers have something to tell you."

Irwin froze against the door, all hair on his arms standing upright. Why- why would they want to see him?

He swallowed as the door slammed shut. There was a tired sigh from the room, followed by Bronwyn's voice.

"Gelwin's beard, how things can turn around. Irwin, slot the card. I know you don't want it, but you need to practice with it tonight and tomorrow morning- you might not get another chance."

Irwin responded, neither to the unfamiliar curse nor his brother's worried voice. He clutched the card as he stepped towards his tiny crib and sat down with his back against the wall. His mind was in utter chaos, filled with questions. What was going to happen tomorrow? Why had mum not told him? And what did Bronwyn mean- he might not get another chance?

It took him long minutes before he'd calmed himself enough to look at the card, still clutched in his hand. The tiny flame flickered brightly, and-

Wait, why can I see?

Irwin looked around the room, which should be pitch black, yet wasn't. Instead, everything was bathed in a dim orange light coming from the flame on the finger of the card, which was, of course, ridiculous. Everyone knew that the images on the cards couldn't interact with the real world. That was just-

Irwin licked his suddenly dry lips as he raised the card closer to his face. The odd swirling pattern glittered in the light from the flame, which wobbled slightly from a wind he didn't see. The longer he looked at it, the more he realized there was something odd about the card.

I don't have much choice anyway, he decided as his fantasy began running wild. What if the swirling pattern was a hidden thing? Something that meant it was actually a super rare, or perhaps even legendary ranked card? His worry faded fully to the background as he sat in the middle of the bed and put the card gently on the top of his left hand- his deck-hand, as people called it.

Three square shapes appeared on his hand, and his tendons and blood vessels were slightly obscured. The tiny finger and flame card were still almost twice the size of one, but under his watchful and awed gaze, the left-most slot on his hand began glowing. The card shuddered, then shrunk and moved inside so fast he almost didn't notice.

"Wow," he whispered.

The whole process barely took longer than two seconds, and as soon as the card slotted into Irwin's hand, he felt a slight drowsiness come over him. Though he'd never experienced what was happening, he knew what it was- his body was going to integrate his first card and change him. If it had been a rare or better card, or one specifically dealing with body enhancement, he'd wake up taller and stronger. But now?

He waited, hoping for his body to start hurting as that would mean the card really was something special. A minute in, nothing was happening, and he yawned. Cleaning the dog pen was catching up on him, and as his stomach rumbled, he suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten.

Come one, he thought as he stared at the card in annoyance.

As if answering him, the card slowly changed. It had already stopped moving and glowing, and as he watched it slowly turned into no more than an etching in his skin. The other slots faded, and the etched card turned to lines before all he was left with was a dim tattoo with a tiny swirling line on the top side.

It's barely visible… Just like a common would react. A stupid utility card.

Irwin felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, and he quickly turned his head away. He didn't want to look at the card anymore. Putting his head on the pillow, he yawned so wide it squeezed some tears into his pillow.

At least he had a card, he tried to tell himself. As his body became heavy, he stared blearily at the mold on the wall. The last thing he thought was that he was missing something, then sleep got him.

--

"By Gelwin's beard! Irwin, wake up!"

"Wuh- wha?" Irwin muttered as his eyes slowly opened. His head was pounding as if he'd gotten a cold, but he didn't feel the customary runny nose that would normally accompany that. Something prodded his shoulder, and he groaned as he rolled on his back.

Bronwyn was frowning at him, shaking his head as the corner of his mouth curled up in a mock half-smile. "Well, show it then!"

Irwin blinked in confusion as he sat up and rubbed his eyes- why were those stinging this much? Annoying.

"Well?"

"Show what?" he croaked, realizing his lips were parched, and his tongue dry as leather.

He got up and stretched, staring at Bronwyn, still not sure what he meant when he scratched his hand. Suddenly everything came back, and his eyes widened as he looked at his hand. The tiny lines, almost a tattoo, of the card with the finger and flame were still there. Right, he got his first card!

For a moment, joy and wonder came, then his head throbbed again, and he groaned.

"What's wrong? How long did you practice? Did you even sleep?" Bronwyn asked, the smile gone and replaced by a frown.

"I didn't practice," Irwin said as he stepped around Bronwyn and through the door into the living.

"What? Why not?!" Bronwyn snapped, storming after him.

"I was too sleepy," Irwin said as he tried to suppress, adding that it wouldn't matter. Who would care how proficient he would be at lighting candles or campfires? He took a cup from the shelf, removed the lid of the tiny water casked, and dipped it in, making sure not to get his hands in. The water tasted like sweet honey for his parched throat and dry mouth, and as he gulped it down, he quickly filled another, then another.

As he finished his fourth, there was a grunt from the table, and he looked up to see Bronwyn stare at him, eyes narrow. Wait, had he even thanked Bronwyn? As bad as the card was, at least he'd gotten one- something none of the other low-borns at the school could say. That put him on par with the children of the craftsman and rangers!

"Bronwyn, thank you for the card," he said, meaning it.

His brother didn't answer, still watching him quietly, and slowly Irwin became uncomfortable. His headache was fading rapidly, though he felt like he could probably still drink one or two more cups. Instead of that, he carefully put the lid back, rinsed and replaced the cup, before turning around. Bronwyn was still looking at him, and he swallowed.

"What's wrong?"

"How do you feel?" Bronwyn asked softly.

Irwin shrugged. "Okay… I've got a little headache, but it's almost gone, and-"

"Do you have any muscle cramps?" Bronwyn asked, interrupting him.

Wait, was his brother checking if he'd somehow changed? Why would that happen? It was just a common card. He was about to say as much when he held back. Perhaps he had changed? He stretched a bit and tried to check his height from the doorpost. When he saw he was still the same tiny-ness as the day before, he barely managed a smile.

"No, nothing. Just a little sore from cleaning the dog pen," he said.

Bronwyn frowned, opened his mouth, then looked at his hand on which two card slot tattoos showed.

Wait, two?

"You got another card!" Irwin shouted before clasping his hand before his mouth.

"Yes," Bronwyn said, looking up. Slowly his frown lifted as he raised his hand and put it on the table for Irwin to inspect.

Irwin was happy to oblige, curiously putting his face so close he almost put his nose on his brother's rugged and tanned hand. A card with a tiny bird- an owl, sat beside Bronwyn's starting card, the clasped hands- a simple body improvement card that granted increased body strength and hand dexterity.

"Wow, you got a summon!" Irwin hissed as he looked up with wide eyes. "Show me?"

Bronwyn grinned as he sat back. "Alright, but don't frighten him. He is still very young."

Irwin nodded enthusiastically as he felt his excitement grow. "Does he have a name?"

"Not yet," Bronwyn said. "I was thinking you might want to help me with that?"

Irwin's head bobbed up and down so fast the vestiges of his headache returned, and he stopped quickly. "Yes!" he said.

Bronwyn laughed and raised his hand, frowning as if concentrating. A soft woosh came, then a gray spark appeared above his raised palm, and out of nowhere, a tiny, fist-sized owl plopped down on it. Dark gray, almost black, with beautiful auburn streaks across its feathers, the owl turned its head around and looked at Irwin with almost glowing orange eyes.

"It's beautiful," Irwin muttered as he slowly moved his hand forward before holding back. "Can I touch it?"

"Yes, but be careful of its beak!"

Irwin moved his finger towards the owl's side, and the eyes followed his finger as the owl blinked. The feathers were soft and smooth, unlike anything he'd ever touched, and as he stroked them, he marveled.

"How big will it become?" he asked.

"Roughly twice the size of my head," Bronwyn stated proudly. "Nowhere big enough to ride, of course, but big enough to be dangerous in combat! When it grows, it can attack the monsters, distracting them so I can get a good hit in!"

Bronwyn's words caught Irwin by surprise, and he looked up, slightly worried. "Are the monsters as bad as they said?" he asked, his shoulders dropping.

He hadn't even talked with his brother yet about how it had been. All he had thought about was himself and his troubles, not even asking about how it had been, manning the border walls and fighting off the monsters that were always looking for a way into Malorin valley.

"Don't worry, Irwin. It was alright, and I learned many new things," Bronwyn said, placing his hands on the table and absently stroking the tiny owl. "I-..." he waited, then shook his hell, muttering something about their mother. "Listen, mum, she- man, how do I tell you this?" Bronwyn rubbed his face.

Irwin was looking at his brother quietly as he remembered the conversation he'd overheard the day before.

"What is going to happen at school today?" he asked.

His brother looked up sharply. "You heard? You know you aren't supposed to listen in!"

Irwin didn't respond. He knew Bronwyn was right, but something was going on. If Bronwyn didn't even want to talk about the monsters he'd fought? It had to be something-

The sorcerers?

Irwin gasped, and his eyes widened as he began connecting dots. There was only one thing happening soon that was even more dangerous… but…

"But I'm the weakest," he muttered as his hands gripped the edge of the table. "And I'm not the smartest! There's Clarish and Lark and… and… the sorcerers? Why?" he almost cried, barely holding back his tears.

Bronwyn seemed to wilt at the other side of the table, now no longer looking at him but staring at the tiny owl that was curiously looking at Irwin. "Last month, there was a missive that we were to send twice as many children this year, a whole dozen. "

"What? Why?" Irwin whispered.

"Nobody knows for sure, but there's a rumor going around the wall. They say a Diflor assassin got into the towers and killed the entire previous year's batch of potential sorcerers… if the sorcerers don't get enough new apprentices, they say that there will be great problems during the next upheaval."

"But that's still… ten years from now?"

"Eleven," Bronwyn corrected him. "Some people say it's because at the last upheaval they almost failed to stop the Diflor shades."

"But, the books say…" Irwin began, stopping as Bronwyn shook his head miserably.

"The books are wrong. Magnif, the ranger that I've been placed with? He's turning fifty, and he remembers the previous one… He's told me things about how in the end, a single sorcerer was all that stood between us and the final rest..."

Irwin sunk down on the stool, feeling miserable, and it wasn't just that the books he loved reading painted the wrong picture. Of all the disadvantages of his condition, at least he'd never worried they would select him to go to the sorcerers. Those needed to be physically fit to wield the instruments of their power and mentally sharp to combine multiple spell cards.

But now?

He shuddered as he suddenly understood why the other children had been so hectic and afraid the last month.

"The city council said we can't send any more of the best, or we won't have enough new rangers and craftsmen to keep the Diflor out of Malorin," Bronwyn said listlessly. "I'm sorry your twelfth will be like this- I'd have loved to stand and see the librarians, mapmakers, or alchemists apprentice you.

Irwin just shook his head at the lies. He knew full well he'd never be picked by anyone.

Bronwyn clapped his hands suddenly, startling both Irwin and the owl. "Enough of this. The bell hasn't rung yet, so we got a quarter left. Let's see to getting this little one a name, and then you need to try what your skill does!"

"Alright," Irwin muttered as he listened to Bronwyn call out a few names as he half-heartedly tried a few.

Barely paying attention, he wondered what life at the towers would be like. Would mum come to see him? Was she even allowed? Who else would go? Probably Greldo, who was almost as much of a runt as he was.

"That's a good idea," Bronwyn suddenly said, and Irwin blinked as he tried to recall what he'd just proposed.

"Glint! I like it, short and snappy," Bronwyn said as he nodded his head and began grinning at the owl, seeming oblivious to the fact that Irwin had no memory of saying the name.

He did focus when he saw Bronwyn focus on the owl and place the back of his hand, with the card the owl came from, on his head. "I name you Glint," Bronwyn said, and the card slot burned a bright silver for a second. The owl simply cocked his head, then vanished.

"Where did it go?" Irwin muttered.

"Back into the card. After I named it, it will gain its own ability. I'm hoping for either Gigantism or Shadow Stealth."

Irwin couldn't help himself from nodding. Those would definitely be awesome, with the first making the owl as big as a dog and a dangerous adversary, while Shadow Stealth would make it the perfect infiltrant. The fact that Bronwyn would gain a tiny measure of the same ability wouldn't hurt him either.

"So, call the flame," Bronwyn said, waving his hands outward, causing his arm muscles to ripple below the thin tunic.

Irwin snorted. As if it would be anything that impressive! Still, as he raised his hand, he felt his own curiosity increase. Focusing on the card still meant looking at it for now, as he needed way more practice to do it without- so he stared intently at the finger and the flame until he sensed something; like a muscle, he'd never noticed before and that he could flex. He raised his other hand, a finger up as in the image, and slowly tensed the muscle. A tiny spark erupted from his finger, then another, and for two seconds, a poor representation of fireworks illuminated the room.

"Focus on a flame," Bronwyn said.

"I am," Irwin snapped as he heard the worry in the other's voice. By Gelwin's beard, did the curvy line mean his stupid common card wasn't special but defunct? It barely registered that he'd used the same curse as Bronwyn had.

He gritted his teeth and focused on the odd muscle, trying to force it to contract more. For a second, it seemed to evade his wishes, then he connected with it, and a woosh came from his finger. A tiny flame hovered there, heat waves rippling outwards. As he looked at the flame, any hope he might have left vanished, and he released his control over the flame.

"I'm going to school," he said, turning to the door without looking at his brother. There was no response, but as he closed the door to the shadowy alley, he heard a soft 'I'm sorry' from inside.

"So am I," Irwin whispered, too soft for his brother to hear, as he closed the door.