Irwin's Journey - The Cardsmith

"Is he one of Bron's hidden guards?"

"I don't know. I've never seen him before."

"I have! He is one of Trimdir's smiths- isn't he the one that is always dashing through town when it's snowing?"

"No smith I know fights like that!"

Irwin swayed on his feet as he walked away from another dead demon frog. His armor was tarnished, his Coperion Body skill long since given out, and he'd overdrawn on his Eyes of Blaze, causing a migraine. Only his flame remained, burning softly as it wrapped around his charred, bent, and thoroughly abused gauntlet. His right gauntlet was gone, lost at some point while battling the third- or was it fourth?- demon frog. The skin of that hand was pale and covered in painful gashes.

All that considered, he couldn't hold back the weak smile as he walked away. He suddenly understood why Bronwyn had insisted on becoming a ranger. An old lady, hugging a crying teenage girl, smiled gratefully at him, and he nodded back. He'd saved them and a dozen other people that were fleeing from the frog.

The sounds of fighting were almost gone, though he heard some from beyond the town wall. He didn't even think of going there. He could barely stand on his feet, while his stomach was a clenched mass of hunger and his lips so dry they were cracked. No. He needed food, water, and rest.

When he reached the tower, he saw a small group of people in front of it while more slowly trickled in from the streets and alleys leading to it. Myda stood before the door, seemingly stopping anyone from entering.

"Orwin!'

Irwin looked up, long since used to his new, fake name. With how many people called him by it, he sometimes found himself thinking of himself as Orwin.

Pytin stood with a few of the other teenagers, waving at him. Seeing no sign of Daubutim, Irwin felt his worry grow as he headed toward them.

Pytin welcomed him with a weary smile. His armor was in tatters. Only the metal chestplate and shoulder guards remained usable. Most of the leather was melted and ripped, and Irwin saw glimmers of blood.

"Are you alright?" Irwin asked worriedly. Then he looked around. "Where is Daubutim?"

Pytin let out a muted laugh, then shook his head. "That friend of yours is a monster… him and me finished four of the Frozir Frogs, but instead of coming here, he just headed towards the gate to help Basil and his guards deal with the situation."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Irwin muttered, feeling relieved and worried at the same time.

"You look like you wrestled with a few of those bloody things," Pytin said, shaking his head with a grin.

"I did," Irwin muttered as he turned to the tower, missing the look of utter surprise on Pytin's face. "Why is Myda stopping people from entering?"

Pytin snorted. "Because the situation at the gate isn't done yet. If they are pushed back, we are to reinforce them."

Irwin sighed. "I need water and food before I can fight again."

There were a few snorted laughs from the other youths, but when he looked up, he didn't see who had laughed at him.

"Here," Pytin said, handing him some strips of dried meat. "And why don't you just eat some fresh snow?"

Irwin took the meat, then looked at the snow and shivered at the idea of putting the cold substance in his mouth. Then he had an idea and looked at his fist, the flames still flickering around them softly. He barely needed to focus on it to keep it there, and he moved to a nearby building, removing his gauntlet. As he pulled the last strap, the whole thing fell apart, dropping to the ground. Staring at it stupidly, he shrugged and grabbed a handful of snow, which began melting as soon as his flame touched it.

Drinking the little bit of water in his hand when he was done, he continued until he had drunk his fill. Only then did he eat the dry meat, which barely did anything to reduce his hunger. When he returned to Pytin, more guards had joined them, and the sounds of battles had faded in the distance. As they waited, a ranger came running through the main road, heading to Myda.

"Either we have to fight now, or we can finally go inside," Pyin whispered. "I hope the latter. I need a shower, food, and a warm bed!"

Irwin held his response as he saw Myda walk away from the door. She made some hand gestures at some of the rangers, who split up, standing to the side beside the roads leading to the walls.

"Alright, listen up! Basil is chasing away a group of Frozir, but there are half a dozen flying demons hiding somewhere in the hills. We need to have eyes and ears just in case they come back to dump more of these vile long-tongued wretches on us! I'm going to split you up into groups. They-" she waved at the rangers, "will be in charge. Follow them and man the walls!"

There were a few grunts, but nobody complained. Irwin was glad he'd at least had enough to drink. He was placed with Pytin and four other youths, and they were sent to the opposite -and most likely, safest- of the walls.

When their weary group finally reached the watchtower and climbed it, they found two rangers looking at the hills beyond.

"Right, split out in groups of three and walk from here to that middle point and back," the ranger that had brought them here said. Then he grinned. "I'll try and get some rations from somewhere and distribute them."

There was a round of thanks, then Irwin followed Pytin and another guard prospect. Though the sky was still blue, the wind at the top of the wall was far stronger than in the city, and he shivered. Without thinking, he enlarged his flame.

"Douse that light, fool! Do you want to draw attention?"

Irwin looked back at one of the rangers, glaring at him angrily. He wished he could ignore him, but he knew that the rangers were right. On the wall, he'd be way too visible, even if it was a clear day.

I hope we don't have to do this too long, he thought as he unsummoned his flame.

--

Hours later, a group of weary-looking guards and rangers finally came to relieve them, and they were allowed back into the tower.

Hungry, frozen to the bone, and tired, Irwin stumbled after Pytin to the mess, where he cleaned away three massive plates of dried vegetables, meat, and a stew of roots and mushrooms. Finally having a full stomach, he found the baths all occupied and headed back to his room.

As he stepped into the room, he was worried but not surprised to find it empty. Cold and annoyed, he moved to the center of the room and summoned his flame, making it as hot as he could.

It took only minutes for the cold in the room to be replaced by stifling heat. Well, stifling to all but him. Content, he sat down at the table, finally able to relax. He put his head on his arms.

Just a bit, he thought. He could check with Ambraz soon.

It felt like only a few seconds when a kick against his leg woke him, and he looked up with a start.

Daubutim smiled wearily, then moved around and sat down opposite him, his face pale and covered in blood splatters. His breathing came ragged and laborious, but his lips were curved up.

"Dau- are you okay?" Irwin croaked as he tried to clear his head.

"Yes. Lilinethe has already healed me. I've just lost some blood."

Irwin inspected him as his foggy mind slowly cleared up and noticed the smile on Daubutims face. Something happened?

"What?" he asked before reaching for the jug of water. His throat was parched again.

"When we returned, I heard some rumors spreading of a young guard," Daubutim said. "A guard that could strike with a flaming gauntlet and shoot demons with his eyes." There's a lot of people saying he saved them from certain death!"

Irwin blinked, then felt his cheeks heat up.

"You saved a lot of people, according to Jousithr," Daubutim said, more serious this time.

"He is alright?"

"Yes."

Duaubtim leaned back in the chair, which groaned under his weight.

"What happened beyond the wall?" Irwin asked.

"Some of the Frozir rode large lizard-like demons, which they used to come here faster than anticipated," Daubutim said, his smile fading. "There were also flying lizards that dropped those Frozir Frogs on the city. Basil led a group of elite guards and rangers to disperse them, yet there were far too many. I did what I could, but…" Daubutim shrugged.

"Many losses?" Irwin whispered.

"Yes. Too many. There is only a single group to close rare portals now, and I heard that over half of those able to close uncommon portals died."

Irwin leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

I need to find a way to help people reforge cards without getting into trouble… Without getting locked down here forever.

As he tried to come up with a way, he quickly decided that the only way would be to do it in such a way nobody would realize it was him. But before that, he had to do something else.

"There is something else," Daubutim said softly.

Irwin looked up curiously and saw the noble slowly take something from his pocket. His breath caught in his throat as Daubutim placed a brightly yellow-bordered card on the table.

"How…" Irwin liked his suddenly dry lips. "How did you get that?"

Daubutim looked at him with a sudden intensity. "There was barely any time, and Basil didn't allow anyone to search for cards, saying the rangers would take them… But I was there, guarding one of the healers, when one of the lizard-riding Frozir jumped us. I got smothered by it while the rangers pelted it with arrows. At some point, it stumbled, and my spear pierced its throat. Lying below the body, I saw the card appear barely a foot from my hand…"

Irwin stared in awe at Daubutim. He knew his friend was a powerful warrior, but this? He had heard rumors of rare cards dropping from large surges, but only from the most powerful mobs.

"What kind of card is it?" he asked, not lifting a finger.

"Not very useful to you," Daubutiom said as he flipped it over. On it was a massive longsword with snowflakes hovering around it. "I think I'm going to replace my club."

Daubutim's voice was laced with pain and loss, but Irwin saw his jaw was set.

"Are you sure?" Irwin asked slowly. "We can wait and reforge your club?"

Daubutim shook his head. "I am a better sword fighter, and we need to become stronger faster than you can reforge cards to rare. Those Frozir will be here soon and might send even more advance troops. Besides, if I replace my card, you will have an excuse for having your own rare."

Irwin stared stupidly at him. "But... it's your first card?"

"It's not unheard of," Daubutim stated. "I'll just have to wait while re-slotting the others until I can sense and use it properly."

Irwin didn't respond. He knew Daubutim was making it sound better than it was. Was the noble doing this to help him? It had to be… he could just wait for Irwin to reforge his club. It made no sense unless he was trying to help.

There has to be another way, Irwin thought as he gritted his teeth. As he tried to come up with something, anything, he realized he was forgetting Ambraz. The Anvil should be ready to help him reforge a card!

He took the Anvil from his pocket and placed it on the table.

"Well, about time! So, I presume you are serious about slotting this rare?" the Anvil asked as he flitted closer to Daubutim.

Daubutim quickly put a hand over the card. "Yes," he said.

"Well, then it's time to attempt to help you to see what it is truly like to reforge a card," Ambraz said as he flew towards the center of the room. "And I suggest you remember my help…!"

There was a moment of stunned silence as Irwin stared at the Anvil and shared a surprised look with Daubutim. Something about the way Ambraz had added the latter sounded like he already knew what he would ask in return for his help.

I'll figure out what that is when it happens, Irwin thought, deciding that if it was too much, he would just not do it. It wasn't like he was going to or had promised anything. Then he focused on the anvil and took the insect repellant card from his pocket, and hesitated. He looked at his hand, then back at the card.

"Don't," Daubutim said softly. "It's too big a risk. Do that one first, try it, and see how it works. My father always said that risks born from haste get you killed."

Irwin took one more look at his cards, then nodded and placed the common on top of the anvil. Instantly a clouded image of an insect scuttling around and fingers prodding it appeared. A few dark blotches sat around the edges, and only two stars dotted slightly off-center.

"Alright," Ambraz said. "This will be slightly different from what you did before. Use your card and start hitting the card. Don't strike too hard, and keep up a steady tempo."

Irwin did as asked, tapping the card and sensing the immediate resonations from his three cards. He kept it up for a while, not striking hard enough to cause any real resonations that might start the process of reforging the card.

"Alright," Ambraz said, strained. "I am going to force the card's resonance to stay as stable as I can. Start hitting harder!"

Irwin waited for one more hit, then struck the card with far more power. The resonating started as it always did, at a seemingly random internal, and he missed. But as he raised his hand and readied for the second hit, he instantly noticed the difference. The next resonance was almost at the exact same moment. He missed again, but barely, and the next time he anticipated it happening and hit it straight on. A sense of wellbeing spread through him as he felt the cards vibrate seemingly happily.

The next hit increased the sense, and a soft sound, like wind running through chimes, sounded in his mind. He struck again and again, a wide smile on his face as he sensed the perfect harmony! Why hadn't Ambraz told him about this before?

A deep, clear bell sound came from the card, and he stopped mid-strike.

"There was a gong," he said.

Ambraz let out a shuddering breath, then began gasping. “About… time…” The Anvil grunted.

His gasping and grunting were the only sounds for a while, but as they abated, the Anvil began talking again, though strained.

"Alright, pick up the card and place it on the table."

Irwin did as asked, noting the image on the card was in massive flux. Where there had been only a single, tiny insect, there were now a dozen swirling around as if trying to figure out where they should remain. He placed it on the table, and the card continued shivering, sometimes so violently that it bounced around on the table. Then there was a soft, crisp ting, and it flashed with a pale purple color, blinding Irwin. When he looked back, a purple-bordered card lay on the table. A hand was displaced on it, oddly similar to the one on his own card, hand palm outstretched towards a small group of insects.

"You did it!" Daubutim whispered, carefully picking up the card.

"Bah. The kid did barely anything," Ambraz grunted. "Without my help, he'd need another twenty cards to get to this level."

Irwin didn't respond but grinned at Daubutim. Then he turned to the Anvil.

"And now what?"

"Now we do this again, but this time it will be far more difficult," Ambraz grunted. "Put the card back down."

As Irwin did, he was surprised to see that the card's clouded image projected above it was larger and clearer than before. He also thought there were a few more blotches, though he wasn't sure.

"We will start the same," Ambraz said, sounding disgruntled. "Slow, and wait till I tell you to increase your speed. This time, don't just listen to the resonance. A vague outline of your fist will appear where you hit it. Try to make small adjustments and strike the black blotches."

More than a little enthusiastic, Irwin struck down. The image blurred around, and the image of a fist appeared almost in the center of the card. This time, the resonance was far more chaotic, seeming to speed up and slow down.

"Impossible," Ambraz grunted, his voice strained.

"What?" Irwin asked, afraid to hit again.

"Nothing. Don't stop!" the Anvil croaked.

Irwin, slightly worried, did as asked. He continued striking softly, feeling his optimism begin to die down. It was hard enough to accomplish the minute changes required hit the smudges, but that wasn't the worst of it. The chaotic resonance became even worse as he continued. He had no confidence he could even strike the card at the right moment, even if he didn't have to pay attention to the blotches.

"Harder."

Ambraz's voice came as a whisper through his clenched teeth, and Irwin began realizing the Anvil might not have been wrong when he said it would be hard.

He struck the card again, harder this time, and almost flinched at the painful resonating. He was almost going to stop when he felt the resonance changing, turning… clearer? Slower?

He hit again, trying to time the strike, and he almost struck it at the right point.

"Blotches!" Ambraz croaked, his voice almost cracking from the effort.

Irwin didn't respond but hit again, continuing at the steady interval. The third time he hit both the resonance and a blotch, the sense of wellbeing that waved from his cards was almost intoxicating. He missed the next one because of it, eliciting a pained and muted howl from Ambraz.

The next one hit, and slowly he lost himself in timing the hit and placements. The same clear chimes came again at some point, though softer and less stable. He had no idea how long he was hitting when a sound like a wet towel striking a shield came. He stopped instantly, unsure.

"I- I heard something odd," he said, surprised by how weary he sounded.

"What?" Ambraz whispered.

Irwin described it, and Ambraz let out a shuddering breath as he flashed back to his tiny shape. Irwin barely managed to catch the shaking and shivering card before it hit the ground.

"Good.. enough…" Ambraz said as he shakily flew to Irwin. "Need… rest."

Irwin grabbed the Anvil, which immediately stopped moving, and carefully placed it back in his pocket. Then he put the card on the table, staring at the card. The small group of insects had turned into a venerable cloud, while the hand had grown sharp nails that were outstretched towards the insects. A flash came, less bright than before, and Irwin saw the purple drain away and turn yellow.

Then he dully stared at the rare card.

They had done it… but it had definitely not been easy. Worse, he wondered how he was ever going to do this without Ambraz's help.

"Now what?" Daubutim asked, eyes wide and full of wonder.

"Now you need to somehow trade this for as many commons as you can," Irwin said softly. "And I need you to search for cards that deal with fire, heat, or metal. Or hammers," he added belatedly.

Daubutim nodded as he slowly picked up the card. "I'll slot the sword, then rest and see to it tomorrow," he said.

Irwin stared at him for a while, then sighed as he made up his mind.

"We also need to come up with a way that we can give other people upgraded cards without them locking me up like some prized charbull."