A Summoner Awakens [A Card-Based GameLit Progression Fantasy]

My eyes darted between the five mirrors set in a semi-circle around a low dais. I smiled, admiring the new garments Mr Mikelian himself had prepared for me.

The suit pants and jacket were a pleasant, light brown that perfectly complimented the darker brown vest beneath it. I donned a collared white undershirt, and a red tie with silver plaid stripes tied the ensemble neatly together.

The shining silver in the tie was comparable to my now luminous eyes, and the red matched the band that held my hair in place. Mr Mikelian had even crafted multiple red ties, bands, and even a nice bowtie out of the material from the Academy uniform I'd been wearing.

A middle-aged man stood beside me, looking pleased, "You'll need a sturdy pair of shoes to match, and I recommend extracting that timepiece from its wristband and purchasing a chain across the street. There's a slit there in the vest above the lower pocket. More comfortable in battle than pinning it to one of the buttons."

His eyes shifted to the silver-handled cane held firmly in my grasp, up to the suit, then down to the cane again. He'd done this several times since I'd donned the suit, and I was beginning to worry he was one of the individuals who could see its properties... until he spoke.

"That cane, lad..." he looked over the ensemble again and shook his head. "You should do something about it. It's exquisite... but it doesn't suit the Mending Bronze Ursidae thread I used. Might I recommend a model crafted from the bark of a Chrasalk Tree?"

A smile played on my lips as I returned my gaze to the closest mirror, "I'm afraid it will just have to do. It means more to me than you could know."

"I see," Mr Mikelian frowned and scratched his chin. "Well, I may have just the thing. Hold tight."

While waiting, I looked over the outfit again, carefully memorizing the location of each hidden pocket and planning the best manner in which to mount my throwing knives and Deck Box. My next order of business would be to purchase a proper belt and boots... possibly a hat. I was undecided on the hat, as I'd never liked how they pressed down my hair.

Maybe it's for the best. I'll already have to get used to the topper my grandfather left.

That outfit was stored comfortably within the shaft of the cane, ready to don at a moment's notice. I'd spent the morning experimenting with its ability, testing different methods of swapping clothing in batches or just one article at a time.

A few minutes later, the haberdasher returned carrying a small bin of clanking metal objects. He rummaged through the container, glancing up at the suit and shaking his head multiple times before nodding in satisfaction and pulling out a small silver ring.

"Looks a bit large. Maybe wear it on your pointer," he passed the ring over and looked at me expectantly. Unsure of what the man was getting at, I cast Appraisal and observed the piece of metal in my hand.

[Ring]

[Class: Relic]

[Grade: 1]

[Type: Unbound]

[Effect 1: Concentrate on any object within 5 yards to change its colour to any you can clearly picture. Can only be used on one object. Effects persist until Wielder leaves the range of the item]

I looked up from the ring, cancelling Appraisal before the hundreds of Relics in the shop caused my head to erupt. Even in that brief instant, my increased mental faculties sorted at least half of the effects of the items in the shop. My new suit was nothing in comparison to many of the Relics hanging about.

"Well, go on," the man made a gesture to the cane. "Alter the colour of the base there to match. I won't have my competitors deprecate my work over something so mundane."

After considering for a moment, I slipped on the ring and pictured one of the Blood Oaks on the Tenth Floor. It was similar in texture to the bark the man had mentioned but was a darker, almost burnt colour. In seconds, the change took place.

"Brilliant!" Mikelian nodded enthusiastically. "These rings are nothing more than trinkets, but I always keep some around. Many of our patrons wish to alter the tone of their outfits without changing the material. There are many Plagued Beast pelts that won't accept dyes, you know."

I smiled and reached for my effects as I stepped off the dais, "This is remarkable. Thank you, Mr Mikelian. How much do I owe you?"

"16,500 Essence. Rings are of no additional cost on any purchase over 10,000. If you ever spend over 50,000, I'll include a Grade 2 ring that will alter the colour of your entire ensemble," he looked down at my boots and frowned. "On second thought, just 15,500 is enough... But only if you go to Boyer's across the street and buy a new pair of boots immediately. Next to his shop, you'll find chains, belts, and other trinkets."

Chuckling, I counted out the Essence and passed it over. "I'll do as you suggest. It would be unbecoming to be seen in such exquisite attire with these ragged boots."

I bid farewell to the man and proceeded across the street, glancing at my timepiece as I did so. There was plenty of time.

...

"Rowan, thank you for meeting me."

"It's always a pleasure, lad. We should always make the time to reminisce with our old associates," I smiled and sat on the chair across from him, leaning my cane against the table. We met on the third-floor balcony of Eden, one of the top best tea shops in Grandhardt.

"There you go again," Nathaniel shook his head. "We just graduated two days ago, and you know we're the same age, right?"

I cocked my head to the side. I'd done it again, "One day. One week. One month... One century. It can go by faster than you think."

I deflected the question, but his comment brought back memories. My friend Crole came to mind, along with the few other acquaintances I'd made. At this point, I could only wish them well in this life... and maybe help them if time allowed.

Ahh. My thoughts are wandering again. Even with my Wisdom at Level 3, it seems my mind is still a bit flighty. Bloody hell, I'm just making things awkward. Young Nathaniel here is going to think I'm a loon.

I waved over one of the waitstaff who was walking by, "My dear, I'll take a cup of Eve's Apple Tea, please."

"I'll take a cup as well," Nathaniel nodded at the waitress and waited until she'd left to speak again. "I'll let you dodge that question if you answer another. Nice suit, by the way."

"Thank you," I chuckled. "What would you like to know?"

"How did you know about the tasks?" Nathaniel asked. "Most of the Descendants rushed to perform them as soon as they learned... yet you were already there."

I smiled, "I'm a lost soul who traversed the sands of time after the end of the world and learned many mysteries along my travels."

"Wh... Huh?"

"I discovered a tome with a bucket list of goals one should complete before leaving the Floor," I somewhat lied with a chuckle. "When the first Card appeared, I was amazed and decided to pursue the rest."

Nathaniel scratched his chin thoughtfully, and at that moment, our tea arrived. The young waitress fluttered her eyes at the silver-haired man before retreating. He didn't seem to notice.

Poor girl.

Aside from a very brief look of confusion when I'd told the truth, Nathaniel's visage hadn't changed throughout our conversation. His stony face revealed little, only leaking subtle smiles or confused frowns from time to time.

"I can believe that," he finally answered. "It wouldn't be unheard of for some loon to climb to the top of that tree, and slaughtering Plagued Beasts is a secret that can only be held so tightly with every one of the Descendants from every Family knowing it..."

"But...?" I urged him to go on.

"But..." Nathaniel took a moment to sip his tea before answering, "It doesn't explain how you knew about the final task. No point in denying it. The blood, the timing, and you should have heard Seth seething over not receiving the 8 Promotions Relic."

He looked amused as he spoke of his fellow's misfortune, and I assumed there was some underlying gossip between Nathaniel and Seth. Seeing him grin so broadly, an irregularity for the lad, I couldn't help but be infected and let out a chortle.

"You're right," I blew lightly on my tea before taking a sip. "Mmm, delicious. And yes, I also happened upon the final task. A few days prior, I was assaulted by a group of the Skull Mercenaries. As you can imagine, there was a hint of animosity between us, and I decided to rid the Floor of them before leaving. When you saw me, I was attempting to flee the Floor before the guards caught on to what I'd done. The Relic was a very nice bonus."

"So it was you," Nathaniel grinned. "I knew it. And don't worry, I haven't spoken to anyone. The O' Connel boy was happy when he found out, though their Grand Elder was displeased. I'm glad the boy didn't have to go through with killing those men after Kasimira received the single Promotion Relic."

I raised an eyebrow. I'd almost forgotten about the Vladimir girl with everything that had happened... Not that I'd been idle when it came to her.

That's right. I still haven't listened to the recordings that Crook handed me at Grandhardt Station.

I'd asked the man to collect as many details as possible about the Vladimirs and their youngest Descendant in particular. He'd managed, but I'd yet to go over the information.

"You were right to leave as quickly as possible," Nathaniel continued. "The Skull were working with one of the associates of the High Society. Even if that associate was further down the pecking order, they don't take kindly to interference in their business."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, "You seem to be well-informed."

Nathaniel sighed heavily, "Unfortunately, I have to be. My parents are always dragging me to the Family meetings, where I'm required to sit through hours of lectures about the goings-on in the world. I thought joining the Academy would help me leave that behind..."

He stared at his reflection in the teacup, and I could see the sense of longing in his eyes. This young man was a mighty figure in the future, and it was common knowledge that he could have grown much stronger... but his family held him back.

Once the Grand Elder who favoured him passed, his elder siblings and cousins kept him from ascending. Apparently, he was already being weighed down at this age.

I wonder what he can become if he isn't tied down... just the thought is exhilarating. Would someone like him really form a party with someone like me? Well, it can't hurt to ask. I'd love to help the poor lad if I can.

My own life played in my mind. Decades of being dragged into the ground by my Origin Card. It didn't matter how much money my estate was worth or even if I'd learned of its secrets back then. The shackles that were placed upon me... they couldn't be broken.

"Your chains are heavy, aren't they?" I asked sadly.

Nathaniel's head moved up from his cup of tea, and he stared at me, not speaking for a long time. I sipped at my own cup, waiting patiently for his response.

"Rowan... how does it feel? To... you know. Be able to live as you please," he finally asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"That's hard to say," I looked off into the afternoon sky. "There was a point in time when I was shackled by my own circumstances. I still have an immense weight on my shoulders... but I can move forward confidently now, at my own pace, and in whatever direction I choose. It's... liberating."

Nathaniel's shoulders slumped slightly, "I see."

"That doesn't mean it's all fun and games," I reached out and gripped the top of my cane, once again recalling Crole and his niece, my friends from work on the Tenth Floor, and the many students who still sent me letters. "It gets rather lonely at times. The links that were severed to gain this freedom... I'm not sure they can ever be reconnected."

"I would choose loneliness over the life I'm living now," the young man sighed and finished his tea.

"How about we get out of here?" I asked, throwing a few dozen Essence on the table. "I swear I've felt eyes on the back of my neck for the last ten minutes."

Nathaniel's eyes darted around the room, his face returning to its stony countenance, "I suppose we should."

We left the cafe and walked along the streets, chatting about our experiences in the Academy. Luckily, I remembered a large majority and could entertain his questions about my past while I got to know the inner workings of the Syward Family.

Nathaniel was in high spirits at first, though I noticed it seemed to dampen with every step we took closer to Ward Lane, where his family had a small dwelling for when they had business in Grandhardt. By the time the small manor was in view, the boy was downright depressed.

"Easy there, Nat," I patted him on the shoulder. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine," Nathaniel nodded and reached out. "Thank you for meeting me. I hope it won't be the last time."

"I'm sure it won't be. You can visit my place at the end of Cloverdale any time," I grasped his hand and shook it, looking at his saddened eyes. "Bloody hell, boy. If you really hate it here so much, just pack up your things and stay at my place. I've got enough space to house your entire generation."

Nathaniel stared at me for a moment before giving a curt nod and turning toward the wrought-iron gates. I shook my head, chuckling. It didn't seem the boy was a fan of wit. He could have at least pretended to laugh.

One of these days, I'll find someone who doesn't take everything so seriously. It's been so challenging to get a rise out of folks lately. Maybe I'm losing my touch.

...

Fog gathered on the streets as I made my way home. The lights of the streetlamps and the glow from the blood-filled Circuits lining the pavements clashed in the night, forming an odd aura that turned the already gloomy walks gloomier.

The fog wasn't an effect of the weather... It was caused by the many factories in this part of town. It was nowhere near as heavy as in Origin City, but it was still enough to cause the odd phenomenon for a few blocks.

After breaking through the fog, I found myself on Cloverdale, just in front of Station 4. Still, I had a long walk to get to my home at the end of the street. As I walked through the darkness, my cane tapped noisily against the poorly paved road. There were few streetlights in the area, as the road was mostly empty, save the occasional small residence.

I could see a dull purple glow as I approached the end of the street. The Essence energy seemed to be spreading faster than I thought. It still hadn't reached the fence, but the almost dead fields of flowers near the house were covered in a purple ambience that could be seen from many hundreds of yards away.

A sudden noise in the darkness pulled me from my admiration. I drew my sword and spun on my heel, casting Appraisal and focusing on the link that connected me to my Tracking Enhancement.

Several small footprints appeared in my vision as I squinted my eyes. Surprisingly, I recognized them. They looked like tracks from one of the Rodent-Type Plagued Beasts I'd seen in the First Floor tunnels.

But... that can't be..?

Before I had the chance to cast Radiance, I heard a shriek, and a mound of fur came hurtling toward me from the darkness. Dash. Pierce. My blade drove through the Rodent's skull, and Dash took me out of the way of a second attacker that I hadn't seen.

"Radiance!"

I cast the Spell on my blade, using the Incantation Enhancement to heighten the effects. A dome of light spread out for yards around me, revealing three more of the dirty creatures, and I recognized them instantly.

[Rodent, Manic Bite]

[Level: 2]

[Rank: Plagued]

[A Plagued Beast native to the Second, Third, and Fourth Floors. Typically roam in packs of ten to twenty. Unintelligent. Bites can cause manic episodes. Terrified of flame]

I slung the housecat-sized Rodent free of my blade and prepared for the next assault. The first of the rats leapt toward me, and I stepped to the side, lashing out at the beast's side with Rend. It squealed and crashed to the ground.

Then, unexpectedly, the last two turned tail and fled. I pulled two throwing knives from an inner pocket of my jacket and flung them at the varmints. One struck true, but the other clattered harmlessly to the ground after an uncharacteristic evasive manoeuvre from one of the rats. By the time I'd retrieved my knives, it had long fled.

What the bloody hell was that?

I knelt and looked over one of the corpses while pulling a vial of Infernal Wash from yet another pocket. The rats differed from the hairless creatures I'd faced in the First Floor caves. Instead, they were as shaggy as the Ursidae, smaller than their bald counterparts, and... more cunning?

There was an instance in my previous life when Plagued Rats ravaged the slums and countryside for a short time. New job postings were set out, thus the birth of the 'Rateneers.'

They were a group of weaker Wielders who set about hunting groups of these beasts for great reward. I'd personally gone on a hunt with one of the groups to show that the government supported the cause, but...

This still isn't right. It's years too early... and those beasts never showed the intelligence displayed by this group.

These attacks had felt almost coordinated. And fleeing? Plagued Beasts didn't have the intelligence to flee even after the Fifth Floor, where only a Fallen creature would give orders to retreat.

I wasn't sure what the difference was, but it didn't bode well. And it wasn't something I could help with. I'd never learned the origin of these monsters. Plagued Beasts weren't supposed to spawn on the Origin Floor, and this was a different breed from those found above.

There were several theories. One was that the use of Plagued Blood in the Circuits over time had started affecting the wildlife... but that was proven untrue around fifty years from now. Another, more plausible theory was that the power of the Wielders increasing was beginning to change the environment on the Origin Floor.

As a Wielder ascended, their body took on more and more of the Plague, increasing its immunity and natural aura. It was suggested that this aura affected the environment, and there were facts to back it. If a Fourth Floor Wielder were to stand next to a Fortieth Floor Wielder for too long, they would begin to sweat or even feel fear if the more powerful Wielder turned their ire toward the weaker.

Neither of these theories was confirmed true, and one day... the rats vanished from the Origin Floor without a trace. After that, all had swiftly been forgotten.

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