Ch. 3 (Patreon)

Holding his breath, Arthur  pushed the card to his chest. He had doubts this would work. A man’s  heart was supposed to be the size of a fist. This card was longer than  his hand from the heel of his palm to his fingertips.

It didn’t matter because the card stopped dead at his shirt. Even magic cards couldn’t pass through fabric.

Arthur yanked down his collar, wincing as a few bad seams popped. He tried again.

This time the card seemed to sink straight  through his skin. There was no blood, only a sensation of growing  pressure. It seemed like it should have hurt… only it didn’t.

Closing his eyes, Arthur shoved the card the rest of the way. Straight into his heart.

The card vanished under his skin.

Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he saw the card, blazing bright. His mind was flooded with information.

You have activated your heart deck dashboard.

Master of Skills (Legendary) has been added to your heart deck.

As Master of Skills is a utility based card, it has automatically been slotted into your Spirit slot.

Master of Skills

Rank: Legendary

Description: This card  grants the wielder the ability to immediately gain proficiency in any  skill. Skills are automatically organized into categories and broken  down into assigned values.

The wielder of this card learns skills at a base 25% accelerated rate.

Newly learned skills automatically start at base level 3.

Previous experience and/or learning a skill  taught by a master may increase the initial starting level and further  accelerate proficiency.

This is a utility only card. Seek additional cards in this set to include combative, magical, body, and special abilities.

Congratulations! You have accessed your heart deck dashboard.

Total cards: 1

Total completed sets: 0

Paired cards: 0

Linked cards: 0

Mind: 0

Body: 0

Spirit: 1

Arthur sat down hard. He was certain he’d  never heard half of those words before, and yet while reading them with  his mind’s eye, he now knew them intimately.

Though he still wasn’t certain what Body, Mind, and Spirit slots were for.

It didn’t matter. Dad was going to love this card.

He looked down at his hands in wonder,  curious if he could see any change. But all he saw was his own hands,  dirty with dragon soil. He wiped them on his pants.

Now the card was hidden in his heart, he  realized he would have to move quickly. It would be suspicious if he was  not seen helping the village tonight. When dragon soil was delivered,  everyone not on their death bed was expected to pitch in. Sometimes the  baron’s men dragged the ailing out of their homes to work the fields.

Standing from the graves, Arthur bade his  mother and sister goodbye. He ducked into the cottage long enough to  grab a few small apples from a kitchen basket. Then he headed out.

The men and women of border village #49 worked hard, as a rule. However, on dragon soil delivery days, that went extra.

Dragon soil had to be tilled into scourge-ridden fields, and it had to be done before the soil lost its life-giving strength.

It also had to be done carefully. Working  scourge-ridden land was dangerous. Any cut, no matter how minor, could  go bad. Most everyone had some pockmarks and deep scars from a rotted  infection. The majority of the adults were missing fingers or toes.

So for this occasion, the baron’s men handed  out thick leather gloves to all adults. The gloves would be counted by  the time they left to ensure no one stole from their noble lord.

Meanwhile, children and younger teens were  sent as runners back and forth on different tasks. They retrieved cold  water from the stream, fetched tools to the adults in the field, and  helped ladle out boiled oats from the steaming kitchen kettles. Whatever  it took to keep the workers going.

If the sun was setting and the work was not done then torches would be lit to keep people tilling through the night.

Everyone was so busy that Arthur slipped into the chaos without notice. Though his friend, Ernie, gave him an odd look.

Before Ernie could do more than open his  mouth, he was handed a pail of water and a dipping spoon to take to the  field hands. Arthur moved to join his friend but old Martha caught him  by the elbow.

“Not you, Arthur. You have a bucket of carrots to chop with your name on it.”

He gave the old woman a disgusted look. “Chopping carrots? What for?”

“For the stew, brat. The baron’s men want everyone to work until they drop tonight. That means we serve dinner. Hurry up, now.”

She pushed him to the kitchen tent and added a swat to his backside when he wasn’t fast enough.

Grumbling, Arthur headed over there. Kitchen  duty was women’s work… though he wouldn’t complain about being close to  the cooking fires. The early spring air had already taken on a night  chill. Arthur couldn’t handle the cold as well as he used to before the  flu swept through the village.

Except… he felt the sting of the chilly air,  but it didn’t seem to instantly sink into his bones the way it usually  did. It was as if he wore an invisible sweater that kept him just a bit  warmer.

Was it the card?

He glanced down to his chest, half expecting to see a glow to show off his guilt to the world.

There was nothing. He looked normal. He just felt a little warmer than usual.

It was said that carded men and women grew  taller, stronger, and faster than normal folk. Maybe just having the  card for a few hours would kick start a growth spurt?

That pleasant thought was cut short when he  entered the kitchen tent. To his dismay, Old Martha hadn’t been  exaggerating. There was indeed a full bucket of carrots set out just for  him.

Arthur groaned, though quietly so the kitchen  women didn’t hear. Last dragon soil delivery he’d been set to peeling a  bucket of potatoes, he’d made the mistake of complaining. That had only  gotten him two more buckets to join the rest.

By the time he was done, Arthur hadn’t been able to look at a potato without a shudder.

One of the kitchen workers was a woman named  Yuma. She had lost both feet to a scourge infection before Arthur had  been born, so she couldn’t work in the fields. Spotting Arthur from her  customary place sat on a stool by a fire, she waved a wooden spoon in a  threateningly.

“Mind you peel those carrots before you chop them. And don’t you dare throw the peels to the pigs afterward.”

“Why not?” he grumped. “Some of the sows gave birth last week. Peels will do ‘em good.”

“The peels go into the broth to thicken it  up. It’s going to be a cold night tonight and the workers will need all  the thickening they can get.”

Arthur opened his mouth to shoot back that  half the bucket ought to go in the pig sty anyway— many of the carrots  were rubbery and even the best of them had the beginning of rot spots on  them.

But Yuma had turned away and Arthur thought better of giving her lip. It would only earn him more work.

He set to the task, using the peeler to try  to cut the dark spots from the rest, though he didn’t know why he  bothered. It was all going in the same pot anyway.

He was on his third carrot when something odd happened.

Words popped up in front of his face. Just  like when he had hidden the card in his chest. He understood what the  words said even though he was certain he hadn’t read any of these in his  life.

New skill gained: Basic Meal Preparation. (Cooking Class)

Due to your card’s bonus traits, you automatically start this skill at level 3.

With a jolt of fear, Arthur looked around to  see who else saw the alert. Not everyone in the village could read, but  they’d certainly notice this.

The message moved smoothly along with his field of vision.

Sitting on her stool with a bucket of onions in front of her, Yuma scowled in Arthur’s direction.

“Stop daydreaming. The sooner those go in the pot, the sooner we all get to eat.”

She said nothing about the words floating in  the air only a few feet from Arthur’s nose. None of the other kids  working in the tent mentioned it either.

He was the only one who could see them.

Letting out a long breath, Arthur nodded and  bent back to his work. As he did, he dismissed the message with a mental  flick so automatic that he didn’t have to think much about it.

He grabbed up a fourth carrot and frowned. Something about his grip didn’t feel right.

Now he was paying more attention, he saw his  fingers were much too close to the scraping tool. One slip and he’d skin  himself rather than the carrot.

He adjusted his grip until it felt right,  switching the angle of the peeler so he was shoving away rather than  peeling towards himself. There. That felt right.

He peeled that carrot and the ones after it  faster than he had before. He was also able to shave down the brown bits  with much more ease.

Done with the bucket, he received another message.

New skill level:

Basic Meal Preparation (Cooking Class)

Level 4

“Now cut the carrots,” said Yuma, who never  wasted an opportunity to tell someone what to do when they were in her  tent. Arthur’s father called it ‘micromanaging’. “Use that knife on the  table, and be sure you replace it afterward. I’ll be counting all the  knives come night’s end.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. As if anyone would  take one of the kitchen tent knives. They were village property and  dangerously dull anyway.

The dullness also made the knives particularly dangerous. He usually hated this part the most whenever he helped in the kitchen.

Now he approached the task with a sense of anticipation.

He placed the entire bucket of peeled carrots on the table and started chopping.

Once again, he got a few carrots in when he received another message.

You have gained a skill: Knife-Work (Cooking Class)

Due to your card’s bonus traits, you automatically start this skill at level 3.

A grin spread across Arthur’s face. He quickly pulled a new carrot.

Again… the way he usually chopped carrots  felt off, like he was doing it wrong. He adjusted his grip, curling in  the first joint of his fingers to keep the tips out of the way of the  dull knife.

The motion of the knife, too, felt subtly  wrong. He’d always used a basic up and down chopping motion. Like one  would with an ax to a stubborn block of wood. Now, he felt like he  needed to sort of roll the knife in his hand as he pressed down.

The old carrot, as rubbery as it was, yielded  to the knife. He was left with a perfectly edged chunk. Not ragged like  the others.

Huh.

Arthur repeated the process, slowly gaining speed as he grew confident.

“That’s a fine looking pile, Arthur.”

He glanced up in surprise to see Yuma had  stumped over on her peg legs. She was looking at the pile in  satisfaction. The carrot chunks were all in a neat golden pile. And  except for the first few carrots, they were mostly uniform in size and  consistency.

“Yes, very nicely done,” Yuma murmured to herself.

Arthur had never heard so much as an  approving grunt from the woman. He was pleased… but also a little wary.  There was every chance that properly done work would be rewarded with  more work. That was a lesson the adults drove into the village children —  to prepare them for the time that they, too, would be under the Baron’s  eye.

Nobles would work a man to death just because they could, and not give a sniff for the wife and children he left behind.

Yuma cast a glance at him and then snorted as if she’d read his mind.

“Well, there’s not much more to do here. Toss  the carrots into that pot, and the skins into the broth over there.  Then get out to the field. We’ll be working to sunup, more like than  not.”

Arthur nodded and did as he was told, scooting out of the tent as quickly as possible.

Once free of Yuma’s gaze, he let himself grin in wonder.

Chopping carrots was a small thing, but suddenly he was excited to see what other skills this card would grant him.

That thought came with a prickle of shame. This wasn’t his card to use and explore. He was going to give it to his father.

Would Arthur keep the skills he gained? Or would they be lost the moment it left his heart deck?

“Arthur!” called a voice.

He looked up to see one of the men on the edge of the field waving him over.

The time for daydreaming was over. Now he had work to do.