Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

“You never asked to use Esmet.”

Esmi and I were walking arm-in-arm though the halls of my family home, and at this remark, I turned to face her. She was wearing a fashionable, deep red gown that set off her curled hair marvelously. The makeup around her eyes and lips made her beauty more distinct – not greater, just different than when we had been picnicking, and she’d been in simple riding leathers and a blouse. She also smelled of bottled floral scents now instead of sweat, and in that regard, I think I actually preferred the latter.

“That seemed too presumptuous a request,” I answered truthfully. The Mythic was a marvel, able to improve any Order deck with its mere presence, even if Esmet was never summoned. The memory of it floated ever ready in my mind’s eye.

But its overwhelming power was the very reason I couldn’t possibly have asked to borrow it.

Esmi nudged me as we continued down the hall. “I would have said yes.”

“That… is very kind of you,” I stammered. Despite my attempts to remain cool and collected, the readiness I had spoken of this morning felt far away now, an idea I’d once possessed but had somehow lost my hold on.

“But…?” she prompted.

I loved how well she knew me.

“I want to defeat him with my cards,” I admitted. “I’ve spent years building and honing this deck, starting well before camp, doing my best to piece together the remains of what my family left me. I want to win with it, especially against him.” We walked a bit longer without her responding. “You’re going to tell me that I’m being prideful again, aren’t you?”

When I chanced a look her way, she appeared thoughtful. “Pride and passion are often intertwined,” she said, sounding like she was quoting, “‘and denying one can bring harm to the other.’” She held my gaze for a few steps. “I don’t want you to lose your passion, but I also don’t want you to compromise your chances of winning.”

“Neither do I,” I assured her. I placed my off hand on her arm and lightly squeezed to show my earnestness. “With all the assistance you and Griff have given me, and Hull some, too, even though he says he’s no good at these things, I believe I can win.”

Esmi used our interlocked arms to pull me closer. “I believe you can, as well.”

“There you are,” someone rasped. We had just rounded a bend in the hall, and Griff stood in the center, hair and beard as unkempt as always, with helmeted Stephi at his side. The one notable difference was that his clothes weren’t stained and torn, which was because he was wearing the outfit that I’d had sent to him. His measurements had taken some guesswork, but all in all, I was pleased with the result. Griff seemed the opposite, huffing and puffing in that pained voice of his, as if he’d been from one end of the keep to the other. In the man’s defense, he was still fettered at the ankles, which surely made traveling any distance challenging.

“I thought you two were just stepping out for a quick tumble,” he chided us between hissed breaths, “not some long lovemaking session.”

I stiffened at the clear besmirchment of our honor. “I told you that I was changing slacks, and my room happens to be one of the farthest from the ballroom.” With all the planning Esmi and I had done for my duel, we had forgotten to coordinate our outfits for the evening. My original gray pants had looked decidedly placid next to her ruby-colored dress, but my new plum three-piece complemented it nicely.

Griff waved the explanation away, his other hand on his knee. “What you call it doesn’t change the time you took.” From his bent position, I saw an unexpected gleam of triumph in his eyes. “But in that time, I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?” I asked with some trepidation. To say my mother had been less than enthused by the attendance of the Chaos user was a severe understatement. I had told him to arrive early to the Gala, which, thankfully, he had. In between coordinating the final elements of the evening, my mother had given Griff a single, strained look and promptly ordered the help to bustle him away, seating him in an out-of-the-way corner of the ballroom with exceedingly strict instructions not to go anywhere else in the manse. At the time, I hadn’t argued; I wanted to preserve the Order source I still had, and Griff had seemed perfectly happy to pledge adherence to the restriction. It appeared, however, that keeping such an oath meant little to him – perhaps breaking it had even helped with his cultivation. If he had been off harassing the performers or lining his pockets since last I saw him, I’d never hear the end of it from my family.

“Listening,” he said, tapping his ear and giving me a sly look. “Some of your brother’s companions showed up, ones he was with in that demon rift a bit back, and Fortune be praised, they’re loud talkers.”

I knew what sort of reaction the man wanted from me, but I couldn’t manage more than, “That sounds nice,” which immediately irked him.

“Not this again,” Griff said with a growl. “Duels are won with information, lad, and this one is no different.”

I had certainly won matches like that in the past, like my training with Tipfin in preparation for Losum, or how I’d sought out whatever knowledge I could about Plutar before facing him. And yet, for some reason, Gale did feel different, as if my success today represented not just a win or loss but a judgment on my very value within my family, for Esmi, and the role I might someday play in the workings of Treledyne.

When I didn’t respond, Griff turned to Esmi in exasperation. “If you care for him, make him see sense. He’s dancing on my last nerve.”

I gave Esmi a pained look.

“Gale is already aware of the majority of your deck from camp,” she said, repeating something she’d told me before but apparently thought I needed to hear again. “He spoke to me of it a few times before he left on that long patrol.”

That last part was new. Previously, Esmi had mentioned only one such occurrence, perhaps just informing me after the very first time. But if it had happened more than that… Was I being a fool? Trying to adhere to some meaningless standard I alone had created? I sighed, relenting, even though it felt like I was betraying myself. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

“Was that all it took?” Griff said to Stephi – the guard, as always, stood so still and silent you’d think she was a summoned Soul. “Remind me that the next time I need to get something through to this lad I should save my breath and have a prettier package deliver the message instead.”

“It has nothing to do with how she looks,” I said with more snap than was proper. I then quickly turned to Esmi. “Though, you of course look divine.”

“Thank you. And what exactly did you overhear?” Esmi said, clearly wanting the two of us to get back on track.

Griff groused a bit about being rushed but then finally launched into it. When the man was done recounting what he had learned, my mind was left a clutter with possible counters.

“I’ll need to make some adjustments.” I’d already opened my wrist holder where I kept the most useful of my extra cards but paused in deliberating exactly what to extract.

“That’s the whole point of knowing,” Griff huffed. “The big thing to consider is the opening. If it’s true he’s got Relic swords cheap enough to summon the first turn and Flurry on his Soul to back it up, he’ll be hitting you for a wallop right out of the gate.”

“Take the hit,” Esmi surprised me by saying; just a moment ago she had looked deep in thought. “Don’t block with cards from hand.”

I blinked, thinking that I must have misheard her. “But if Griff’s details are correct, that will be 4 damage. Surely losing a fifth of my Summons Deck is too big a sacrifice on the first turn.”

She shook her head. “It feels foreign to you because you’ve been schooled in Treledyne where Order and defensive cards abound. But in Charbond, cards often only block for a single point of damage, meaning you’d end up sacrificing your whole hand, or close to, in order to stop a large attack. So, many simply don’t.”

“Fire folk always bet that they can kill you before you kill them,” Griff confirmed, scratching at a scab just above his beard line.

“But I don’t have the damage of a Fire deck,” I protested. “Shouldn’t I block at least some of it?”

“Your deck doesn’t have that particular strength, no,” Esmi agreed. “However, it is built to leverage taking the opening hit, just in an entirely different manner.”

What is she…? But then it dawned on me. “Because I can heal those cards back with my Life source power.” Esmi gave me an encouraging look, and I continued on. “And once they’re healed, I can return them to hand with my Order source power.” It was a combination I had been intrigued by after seeing the elf ambassador compete in the Risings Stars tournament, but one I had yet to get much use from.

“Precisely,” Esmi said. “With your recent cultivation, you are well poised to recoup your early losses, which would have been inefficiently blocked anyway due to the nature of Flurry.”

I turned to my advisor to see that the wound was open on his cheek now, with no sign of the removed scab cap. I tried not to worry where on the floor it might have landed. “Do you concur with this assessment?”

“Hmm,” Griff rasped, tilting his shaggy head toward Esmi in respect. “She’s a savvy duelist, that one. Not only do I agree, but it plays well with the three copies you have of your most important cards instead of just one-offs. You can afford to lose some because more are waiting.”

“And…” Esmi said, looking at the Chaos user for some reason.

“Ah, yes,” Griff said, patting at the clothes he wore as if unsure how to use them. The display made me question whether or not Stephi had actually been the one to dress him. From his jacket pocket he pulled a pair of cards, gold-edged in fact, and presented them to me.

I accepted, not knowing what else to do.

It was the powerful Air Soul I had considered purchasing the first day I had met him. Had he remembered? “I owe you more merits now, do I?” I asked with a grin to show that the question was made in jest. The only thing Tipfin had ever given me was my wrist holder, and that, I had heard from my brothers, it had fit poorly on his own arm.

“I wouldn’t do that to you a third time, lad,” Griff answered with a hissing chuckle.

“The War Camp shopkeep let you have them?” I asked, somewhat skeptical now. Commons I could perhaps see them giving to an advisor, but two Rares? If these were stolen goods, accepting them would undermine my Order cultivation.

Esmi put her chin on my shoulder, looking at the cards with me. “I paid for them.”

“You did?” I asked in surprised relief.

She smiled in satisfaction. “You’re not the only one who wanted to have a present ready for the important day.”

“I had thought the picnic you planned was present enough.”

“A picnic, eh?” Griff commented. “Out of doors? That sounds nicer than counting the lines of spider webbing in my cell.”

“I must speak with Edaine on the morrow,” I declared. “They can’t have you living in such conditions, not when you’re providing the type of important service you are to the kingdom. It’s neither humane nor honorable.”

“Don’t worry yourself over it, lad,” Griff replied with that unconcerned attitude he so often mustered. “It’ll see itself sorted in the end.”

I was no longer content to leave such a thing to chance, but I didn’t need to argue with the man about it now, not right after he had given me a present and useful information. The Raven Nightguard would serve the same role as my Zephyrs: solid, early blockers. And like Griff had said, with more of them, taking the opening hit was not as concerning.

We spent the next few minutes in conversation going over my new selections, with me transferring some cards I had expected to use today out and switching other ones in, including my newest Rares.

“Well,” I said when all seemed as finished as it could be, “I can’t keep hiding in this hallway forever. Let’s be off, shall we?”

“I’ll hang back,” Griff said. “Wouldn’t want to stain your image by having someone like me tagging at your heels.”

I had only taken a few steps but stopped abruptly, turning to him. “Please do no such thing. You are my advisor, my teacher, the first true one I’ve ever had the fortune to work with. I would be honored to enter with you.”

Griff hesitated, and for a moment it was like I was looking at an entirely different person, one beneath the disheveled and gruff exterior, his blue eyes going slightly wide. Then the moment was gone, and the man shrugged, as if it were no care of his. “If you insist.”

“I most certainly do,” I said. Unfortunately, I could tell he had already closed himself off from hearing the deep sincerity of my words. Still, he walked with us, Stephi close behind, which was enough for me for now.

The hall we entered the ballroom from was one meant primarily for family, so while a guard was present, there was no crier to announce us. That was to my preference, as I would much rather observe the people around me unobtrusively than have them focus on me, particularly when my nerves had suddenly decided to fray.

“For Fate’s sake,” I hissed quietly, gripping onto my new pants to keep my arm not interlinked with Esmi’s from shaking. I didn’t know why the presence of others was having such a tangible effect on me. There was pleasant music playing, boisterous conversation, and spectacles for the eye to appreciate – it was a happy time, yet my body seemed to think that I was marching to the gallows. Only a few of the Gala-goers seemed to have noticed us so far, and by the blessing of the Twelve, none were trying to approach me yet.

“What’s wrong?” Esmi asked, also keeping her voice low and attention forward, showing her skill in maintaining the air of a well Ordered couple.

“It will be fine,” I told her, to which she shot me a quick, concerned look. “I promise.”

It was then I spotted the Queen herself and almost stumbled to a halt. The Sun King’s wife, Gerad’s mother, was speaking to some other woman I did not know, but apparently that particular woman must have been gifted with a fine sense of humor, for the Queen seemed quite entertained, laughing openly.

“She came,” I whispered in amazement to Esmi. I had checked with my mother this afternoon, and she’d confirmed that there had been no word back from the official invite she’d sent to the palace. “The Queen must have gotten the letter I slipped under her door.”

“You placed an invitation in the royal apartments, unsolicited?” Esmi said to me, eyebrows rising.

“I did,” I admitted. “But I didn’t want to get your hopes up if she decided not to attend, yet there she is. With her here to observe the duel, Esmi, none can question the legitimacy of its outcome.” I was speaking faster than I meant to and with greater fervor, but I couldn’t seem to help myself, my heart racing and my skin feeling flush. This was it; our plans for our future together were on the edge of fruition.

Esmi took me by the lapels and kissed me deeply. “You wonderful man, you,” she whispered when our lips eventually parted.

This time I did feel others’ eyes on us, but I hardly cared, kissing her back.

“Young love is a fine thing, is it not, Stephi?” I heard Griff say off to the side. “Perhaps you and I should go on a picnic when this is over, eh?”

Soon after, Esmi and I, with Griff in tow, made it the rest of the way through the crowd toward the entrance of the room. There was a wide landing at the top of the stairs, which would give adequate room for the duel and good sight lines to those watching. Despite my urging him to go farther, Griff leaned against a pillar a bit off from the foot of the staircase, saying he could yell any advice he might have well enough from there. Esmi also departed to join her father who was already up in one of the raised box seats that lined the upper wall of the room.

Before she did, she told me, “Show them what I already know you capable of.”

I searched her gold-flecked eyes for a hint of doubt but found only an unflappable faith that humbled me. “I will,” I promised, squeezing her hand tightly before letting it go.

I saw that Gale was already standing up beside my mother at the head of the stairs. Ascending the steps, I searched for my father but failed to find him, which meant he must be off working. ‘The streets do not sleep,’ he often said. There was no joy in the refrain, just grim certainty that a job like his would never be done. I wondered if I somehow ended up perishing before him, whether he’d manage to find the time to attend the burning of my body and interment of my Soul card.

“You were not mingling,” my mother observed when I reached her.

“I will after the fact. That way I can receive congratulations on my impending nuptials.”

My mother eyed me but did not comment further. Instead, she took a mallet handed to her by Ossun and struck it against the hanging gong the butler held at the ready. When the crowd turned toward the ringing peel, she addressed them: “Friends, peers, and allies, be welcome to House Hintal.” Her speech was steady and clear, well practiced at addressing large groups. “We recognize the presence of our beloved Queen, who has graced us with her presence. We will have a lovely evening of song, dance, and entertainment. To begin, two of my sons have arranged an exhibition for your pleasure: they will duel each other for the hand of Esmi Fireheart of House Haraine. All the parties have agreed, and the contracts have been signed. Please arrange yourselves as best suits you.”

I spotted my other brother Randel off to the side, talking to a juggler of source balls who was making them vanish one at a time. Near them, I also caught sight of Hull and Afi coming closer through the mingling press of people. The two of them were better dressed than I had ever before seen and looked surprisingly good together. It was a shame that this evening couldn’t just be spent with us couples out for a good meal and a show at the theatre.

After, I told myself. After you’ve proved yourself, you’ll have the rest of your lives together for such things.

My cousin, Dafil, joined us, casting a Dueling Dome with her mix of Air and Order source over the landing.

A hemisphere of glistening light descended around us, starting from a peak near the arched ceiling and then flowing downward like sparkling rain. When it had fully enshrouded us, my mother and cousin departed, but from below, a rasping voice shouted.

“Take those leg bracers off! No artifacts ‘cept for source in a duel!”

A look confirmed it was none other than Griff who had spoken, most of the attendees giving him and his armored escort a wide berth. Why hadn’t I realized it before? Traditionally, only fabricators, amplifiers, or dampeners – all artifacts that affected one's amount of source draw – were allowed in duels. The strengthening bracers of worked gold and silver that Gale wore around his legs at all times were certainly not one of those three. There was a murmur of agreement among those gathered, and my mother shot my brother a sharp look.

“Apologies,” Gale said, sharing that winning smile with all of us. “Old habits.” So saying, he crouched down to unlatch the artifact from first one leg, then the other.

Without his bracers, his Soul ability that let him reduce weight would be of no consequence to me. And yet…

“There is no need,” I said. My voice started low but it grew in strength with each word. “I have been training for combat beyond that of a dome. I wish to face you as you are.” I was sure Griff would be deeply unhappy about this choice of mine, but my eyes moved to where Esmi and her father were, up and to the right. I couldn’t quite tell their expressions at this distance, but in a way, that made the decision easier.

It was likely selfish of me, but I would prove to everyone gathered here, myself and Esmi included, that I deserved to be with her, that her faith in me was warranted, that I was indeed the proper match for her. And if I failed? Well… we’d all find out together.

“Generous of you,” Gale said with a smile. He straightened from his crouch, which, as usual, put him half a head taller than me.

You have not just authored your own loss, I told a rising panic within myself. You have NOT.

“Twins who watch over us,” my mother intoned, starting the prayer for our match, “let the outcome of this duel fought before you guide the fate of those involved, for their fortunes, and their futures. So be it.”

“So be it!” all those watching echoed, their shout filling the giant hall.

No sooner was the prayer complete then I felt a tug behind my ear. The card that had been pulled from my Mind Home spun upward, crisscrossing my brother’s ante as it went, both turning to face the crowd and expanding in size for all to see, including those of us directly below.

My stomach tightened to see Atrea made vulnerable. A loss now would be devastating enough, but to be forced to forfeit my most precious of Souls as well? To avoid being consumed by such worries, I focused on my brother’s Relic, which was truly a fascinating card. The protection it offered was non-standard, but still, quite good. If I had been planning to use a burn style deck or similar to defeat him, I would have found it exceedingly challenging to overcome. And even with a Soul-centric deck, like my own, the Vestment, if played, would extend the match. I had been under the impression that Gale using Air and weapon Relics would seek to end the duel quickly, but did this Vestment mean he also possessed some late game ending threat?

The Epic drifted down to us, Atrea landing perfectly in my waiting fingers, and I tucked her back behind my ear.

“Luck, brother,” Gale called airily to me across the way.

His nonchalance sparked a bit of anger in me, an emotion that had been missing up until now. I wouldn’t be forced to prove myself in front of so many important people in Treledyne if my parents hadn’t meddled in my marriage or if my eldest brother had taken my side instead of theirs. His flippancy showed how little the outcome meant to him, whereas for me, I was fighting for the very bedrock of my future happiness.

I didn’t return the well wishes, simply nodding at him, as I drew my opening hand. Fortune be praised, I pulled one Order source and one Air, which would enable me to do either of my planned openings. My other draws, however, were hardly what I hoped; despite the fact that my deck currently contained thirteen Souls, all three were Spells: two Executions and an Equality.

Such cards were present in my deck to be good blockers from hand, as well as to eliminate some of the troubling Souls Griff had heard Gale would be using. Equality’s use would be niche considering my build, but after the number of times the Spell had saved my skin, I hadn’t felt comfortable without at least one in my deck.

Any two of these three cards would let me fully stop Gale’s initial assault – one for each of his two strikes of Flurry – but to what end? None of these were the Souls I required at the start of the match, and if I relied on my next draw, I might end up defeated before ever reaching them.

I let all three go, and they vanished in motes of light, returning to the base of my Mind Home. I needed either a Zephyr or Raven Nightguard for the first turn, or a Master Shieldbearer. As my mulliganed cards disappeared, I noticed that Gale had discarded two of his own. At least Fortune didn’t favor him with perfect draws either, I contented myself.

Pulling from my Summons Deck again, I watched with held breath as the new cards formed in my hand. They ended up being partially what I wanted.

Each had their role to play: the Zephyr was the most obvious, as it would let me block enemy Flyers, including Gale, early in the match. The Bearkin could also have been used early if not for Gale’s Flying. Because of that though, it would be a later play, when my defenses were set enough to launch my own attack. The Kata should help me survive long enough to reach that point, and was among my newest purchases that I was extremely glad to have since it could entirely negate a Flurry attack.

I went ahead and summoned my Order source, the card transforming as soon as I let go of it into a pearlescent orb that drifted up to hover above me. Gale did the same, an Air source appearing on his side, as expected. In my many practice runs of this match, I had toyed with using Air, too, clashing with him, and forcing the Twins to decide which of us would get to act first. I had discarded the idea though because my slower deck wasn’t as suited to one source plays.

Gale drew two cards, barely looking at them, which told me that he already had what he needed. Sure enough, his Air source dipped more than a foot in the air, devoting, and a card misted out of my brother’s hand.

Just as Griff had predicted, it was a weapon Relic to start. At first, the newly formed sword merely floated in front of my brother, lazily turning, as if guided by some unseen hand, light from the chandeliers revealing the pattern of its uniquely folded metal. However, with a pull of Air from Gale, the Relic snapped into his hand, transitioning seamlessly from its role as a Soul to being wielded. It was a wonderfully flexible card, one I might even consider using myself if it had been chosen by the Twins as ante.

“Sorry, Basil,” Gale said, giving me an infuriating pout that didn’t make him look sorry in the slightest. “I’ll make this as quick as I can, and when it’s done, we’ll share a drink together.” With a slight bend of his knees, he launched into the air, covering the twenty feet between us in a skillful, arcing leap, just as I had seen him do during our first day at War Camp. As he brought the Owl Blade down on my head, time slowed around me, Fate’s Grace giving me the choice of how I would defend myself.

I had an overwhelming urge to use some of my cards to block with, frustrated by his words and scared that I would lose all my Master Shieldbearers in one match-ending swoop. However, unlike my previous draws, these were all abysmally suited for that – I’d have to give up every one to stop both hits of his Flurry, including my extra source, and where would that leave me? No, such a reaction would lose me the duel before it even began. So, I kept my cards gripped tight, trusting in the wisdom of Esmi and Griff and my own skill in seeing our plans through.

Time resumed its flow, and without me releasing anything to stop it, the blade struck the top of my head. I felt only the briefest of contact as it rebounded, two cards puffing out of me in a shimmering spray. Among those glistening pieces I saw the red border of my only Epic, the one I had chosen to elevate before all others.

I reached out in shock, disbelieving that my rarest card would be the first to go. The glittering motes fell through my fingers, dissipating as they went, leaving my outstretched hand slightly a-tingle but also entirely empty.

Gale’s shadow fell over my palm, and my gaze jumped up to meet him. The blowback of card shards should have given me a moment of breathing room, but he was managing to push past them to strike again. It confirmed that he did indeed have the Flurry ability imprinted on his Soul now, and he used that Twin’s given gift to send the point of his Owl Blade streaking toward my face.