Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

This is where it turns around. The Vampiric Blade sang in my hand as I ran at Basil. No matter which of his bullshit Souls blocked, they’d feed me fresh cards from discard, and with my Mind Home empty that was exactly what I needed. I’d gotten absolute shit draws from the word go in this match, but I’d held out, and now it was going to pay off. I’d have my Sucking Void back in a few turns and then I’d be unstoppable. I just had to focus and keep pushing.

Basil wasn’t helping any. The little bastard looked like he was having the time of his life, waving to his fiancée at every turn and throwing out little smiling comments at me like we were still friends. I’d never seen him so at ease, so at home in his own skin, and it was infuriating. I really wished he’d been impulsive enough – stupid enough – to send a couple of Souls after me during his last turn, given that he was amassing a small army over there, but he was too good of a duelist for that. He knew that my Blade would just give me cards back when I defended, and that didn’t help him any. Now, though, it was my turn, and my Blade was going to work.

“You’re going to hate this,” Basil sang gaily, and his stupid, tiny Water Mocassin flung itself into the air in front of my Blade, and my blow rang on the ridiculous little helm he’d put on it, shattering the Relic.

No cards returned to my Mind Home.

“You whoreson shit-sucker!” I raged, my voice sounding tinny and weak inside the helmet of my Iron Maiden Plate.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” he said primly. “A fellow might get offended if a friend said something so foul.”

I couldn’t help it; I vented another yell of frustration. “I’m not your friend!” I really needed to get some cards back into my Mind Home, and his garbage Soul and the Helm he’d put on it had put a serious kink in my plans. It was a good move on his part and I knew it, but that didn’t mean I liked anything about what had just happened.

“Pish,” Basil said dismissively. “It’ll take more than a little spleen to convince me of that.”

I’d already drawn both my remaining sources – the only thing I could draw at this point – and put one of them up. It didn’t make any sense to attack with my Root Imp or Ghastly Gremlin. I needed them as blockers, especially now that I had to wait an extra turn to get any cards back with my Blade. I had source available, though, so I brought out one of my new additions.

The shambling, gray-skinned demon-thing grinned up at me. “Feed me,” it gurgled.

“Hold your horses,” I told it. “You’ll get your turn.” I still had 1 Nether at the ready, and if Basil were dumb enough to summon a Spell on his turn, the demon would get the meal he was looking for.

“Where did you get all these cards?” my opponent cried. “They’re amazing!”

There was exactly zero chance I was going to tell him that, so I planted myself at the ready and let my turn expire. The Plate stabbed in at me, dealing its end-of-turn damage, and I finally got to use one of the other cards I’d been holding back specifically for this.

The card shattered into sparkles as I used it to block the damage and then immediately re-formed in my hand as my turn ended. This is such a perfect card to use with the Plate. Now I can use it without having to wait for the Sucking Void so long as I have one of these beauties in hand. As it happened, I now had both of them, and they’d be fantastic damage sponges on Basil’s turn, too. All right. Make it through this next turn and you’ll start getting cards back. Damn that Helm.

Basil drew 2 cards, and a quick squint showed they were the last cards in his Mind Home.

If I only had some way to sneak past his Souls and do some direct damage, I could finish him off now. It was a useless thought – that wall of Souls was solid, and I had nothing to get past them with.

“Now,” Basil said with relish, “let’s see how you deal with this.” He sent his Metal Golem charging in, and both Condors swooped down right behind. I tensed and felt my brain kick into a trot, calculating the possibilities and the outcomes. I was going to take a little damage – there was no way around that – but I could make it through. I realized it might have been wiser to hold back with my Blade so that I could defend with it instead of attacking as I had done; then I would have been able to pick my target and make sure I got cards back. Though, had I not attacked, he likely would have just held off and kept waiting, so I wasn’t sure it would have made a difference. A moot point now, either way, as the Blade hung heavy and useless in my hand while I waited for it to be ready again.

“You,” I said, pointing to the Ghastly, “take the metal man.” It hissed and threw itself at the automaton, all feral teeth and claws. They both died in a shower of light.

“Sorry,” Basil called, sounding entirely insincere.

“How about you quit talking?” I yelled back. He shrugged impishly.

The Condors were right in my face, and I nearly sent the Root Imp after one in the lead, but I realized in a flash that the death of my Gremlin had increased their strength. Their claws now glowed with an imbued power that hadn’t been there before. If I sent the Root Imp to block the first one, my Imp would die, buffing them further, and then I’d take 4 damage from the remaining Condor. Better to step in and take my licks first and then let the Root Imp get wrecked by the final attacker. I’d take less damage that way. The Condor battered me with its wings and its claws scored my Plate, digging through to seek flesh. I tossed one of my Ravening Hatchlings out of hand to absorb the point, and once again it shattered and re-formed. Nearby, my Root Imp tangled with the other one, shattering into shards and leaving the huge bird bleeding heavily but still alive.

I’d weathered the worst and felt my battlelust rising as the Vampiric Blade came back to life in my hand. I had fewer Souls at my disposal than I’d had a moment ago, but with the Soulforged Helm gone, I’d for sure be getting a handful of cards back this time around. I had nothing to draw. I kept my final Nether in hand, suspecting I might need it for blocking soon enough, and focused 2 of my summoned ones to send extra strength into my arms, then went in swinging again. Getting back four cards is better than three!

I was barreling toward the Ice Wall. I knew I wouldn’t get any cards away from Basil this turn; right now I was just trying to get stabilized, and taking a chunk out of the Wall would feed my Mind Home just as effectively as anything else. I ached to watch it shatter and feel the cards reforming in my mind.

Instead, the damned Water Mocassin leapt up and severed itself in half on the edge of my sword. A single card dribbled back into my Mind Home.

“What?” I cried as the force of the collision and the shattering Soul forced me back.

“You can’t do more damage than a Soul has life to give,” Basil told me, sounding truly apologetic this time. “It’s the smart play.”

My heart clenched. “Twins take you! I needed that hit!”

He looked guilty, but he spread his hands. “Should I roll over and play dead, then? Come on, Hull, we have to give each other our best. Anything less would be insulting.”

I wanted to breathe fire and burn the whole world down. He’d stalled me out with that stupid snake, and I didn’t know if I could make it through another turn without getting my Sucking Void back. My insides cramped. I gave up everything to win this and now I’m not sure I can. I still had source left, but all I had in hand was a final Ghastly Gremlin and my 2 Ravening Hatchlings. They’d do me more good in hand as blockers than on the field, especially since his heavy hitters were flyers. Attacking with the Spell Drinker would be idiocy – I had to leave him at the ready for whatever Spell Basil might have in hand. I had to let the turn pass.

“Damn you, Hintal,” I whispered, feeling sick. I saw my doom approaching and there was nothing I could do. The Plate did its damage to me, and without hardly noticing I let the Ravening Hatchling absorb it and reappear in my hand.

“I think you’ll appreciate this,” Basil said gently, “though I’ll understand if you don’t say so in the moment.” With a flourish, he devoted an Order and summoned a Spell, focusing on my Spell Drinker.

“What’s the point?” I asked him, focusing an available Nether. “Do your thing,” I said to the Spell Drinker, who was drooling and clutching at its stomach. With a relieved sigh, the pale thing unhinged its jaw all the way down to its chest and sucked in like a miniature dust dervish, swallowing the mist-like magic before it could manifest and force my Soul into a focused state. It was still focused now, having used its ability, but if it couldn’t block for me at least its Attack was 2 higher now. Its shoulders bulked out as it digested the Spell, and it looked healthier than it had before.

“Right, then,” Basil said, prim, proper, and suddenly stern as a judge. “Attack!”

His Condors swooped down again and I braced for the impact. I had nothing to block with, and my Blade was focused. The Plate would help, but I had to take some damage. The first Condor hit harder, it having been powered up by 2 of my Souls instead of just 1, and the next came in right behind. It took everything in hand to handle the damage, and with regret I watched my Ghastly Gremlin summon itself and then Expire, while my Ravening Hatchlings and remaining source shattered. I’d get the Hatchlings back at the end of the turn, at least, and I still had that single card waiting in my Mind Home to draw once my turn began.

I’d weathered the attack! There were no more bullshit snakes to hamstring my Blade, and if I could just hang on, I could still make this work. I heard the announcer blabbing something excitedly, but I was too focused to hear it. I could still see victory ahead.

“And… now,” Basil said, sounding satisfied. “I’ve been waiting the whole match for this.” He devoted nearly everything he had left.

“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no.”

His Condors rode a sudden zephyr back to readiness overhead, and when he pointed, they came screaming back, attacking a second time.

I closed my eyes and let them come. I’d given him the Twins-damned Spell and now he was going to win with it. Damn you, Basil. That’s a beautiful play.

The Condors slammed home, tearing the single card out of my Mind Home and sending me tumbling painfully to fetch up against the buzzing energy of the Dueling Dome. I coughed and tasted a hint of blood. I’d bitten my tongue when I fell.

“And Basil of Hintal takes the match!” the announcer crowed. “What a duel! What a day!” The crowd cheered, chanting his name.

I’d lost. It was over. I felt the ante card fly out from behind my ear and toward Basil, and I felt a twinge of regret. It was my mother’s card, and I’d lost it within a mere hour of knowing it existed. I hadn’t even gotten to summon it.

Ticosi is going to kill me. It was a cold certainty. He’d been friendly and full of promises, sure, but I’d watched the Big Man of the Lows carefully for years, trying to stay out of his way. His displeasure was swift and deadly. I’d just lost an Epic card he’d given me, and from the look in his eye, he still carried a torch for mommy dearest. He would not be gentle with me.

I got to my feet, suddenly feeling very old. It had been a beautiful few days pretending to be a little noble kid and play with their cards, but that was all over now. At best, I’d be Ticosi’s thug and thrall. At worst, I wouldn’t see sunset. Either way, there was nothing I could do about it.

“Two days ago I’d have never guessed you could put up such a fight,” Basil said, bounding over to clap me on the shoulder. “Truly, the strides you have made are nothing less than remarkable. I can’t wait to see where the Twins will take you next, my dear friend!” He stuck out a hand for me to shake.

Feeling dead, I turned away. “Away. They’re taking me away.”

Undeterred, he fell in beside me. “You keep saying gloomy things like that. I’ve gathered that you’re in some kind of trouble, but you know, I am not without resources. I’m certain it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

I wanted nothing more than to sit down with him like we’d done the night before and tell him everything, to trust that the nobility would come to my aid and protect me from Ticosi and whatever else might come my way… but that was wishful thinking. Putting Basil in Ticosi’s path would be the worst kind of selfishness; it would only get him killed. I was trusting the Big Man to have the King murdered, after all, and I was fairly certain he could do it. Offing Basil wouldn’t so much as disturb his breakfast.

The yearning I felt to confide in this boy angered me. Had I grown so soft in only a few days? It was time to put all this bullshit behind me. “Keep your resources, Hintal, or shove them up your ass for all I care. I’ve told you to leave me alone, and I mean it.” I sped up, moving into the hallways of the Coliseum and hoping he’d be hurt enough to hang back like he’d done before.

I should have known better. He’d confronted me before, and I’d only gotten away because he’d gotten caught up in the elevation of his own soul. No such luck this time. He kept pace with me, still unruffled and friendly despite my insults.

“I’ve been trying to determine what is causing this act of yours,” he mused. “It’s not very convincing, you know. You’re much scarier when you actually mean what you say, and this is something else. You don’t regret giving me the Epic, no matter what you say –”

I laughed bitterly. “Oh, I don’t? You might not have won without it. Go away, Basil.”

He ignored me blithely, staying by my side even as I increased my walking speed again. “Oh, I’d have won anyway, but you have to appreciate the beauty of using it to close out the match. It was practically Fated.”

There was a godly symmetry to it all, but I wasn’t about to admit it.

“I’ve never had someone be so generous and so kind to me as you have been,” he continued, “and yet you’ve done nothing but heap abuse on my head since the new day began. I can only assume that some tragedy has befallen you in the meantime.”

I turned on him. “Regret has befallen me in the meantime, Hintal. And who even talks like that? I regret helping you, I regret ever approaching you in the first place, and I never want to see you again.” I pointed down the hallway behind myself. “I’m walking back to my room and staying there. If you follow me, I’ll break your nose.”

He considered me thoughtfully. “No.”

I ground my teeth. “I’ll do it. I’ve been wanting to since the first time I saw you.” I balled my fist and tensed. If a little blood was what it took to keep him at a safe distance, it was a small price.

“Oh, certainly,” he said, waving his hand carelessly. “But I’m not giving you the option.”

At some point during our walk he’d re-summoned an Order and Air Source without me noticing, and now he used them.

“Secure him and come with me.” he ordered the Soul.

The Headsman latched onto my arm with a grip like a vise. I tried to jerk away and couldn’t break free. Basil had already walked away, and the Soul dragged me after him.

“You son of a bitch,” I grated, summoning a Nether and putting it overhead. “You don’t get to treat people like puppets just because you’re noble.” I sent the Nether into my arms, feeling my rage surge.

Basil glanced back and stopped in his tracks. “Hull, don’t!” He sounded urgent, scared.

It was enough to check my fist for just a heartbeat. “You don’t tell me what to do!”

He gestured frantically. “Hull, if you do damage to him, he’ll do it in return. It’s Fated damage, Hull, and your Mind Home is still empty. It could kill you.”

With supreme effort I checked my anger even as it coursed through me with the Nether. He was right, and I hated it. “Let me go!”

“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. But you’re coming with me and we’re getting to the bottom of this.”

I made the Headsman drag me the whole way.

* * *

“Now,” Basil said, shutting the door to his rooms. “Let’s talk.”

I finally shook free of the Headsman, who silently let me go and stood near the door, keeping a close eye on me. I kept feeling at my Mind Home, waiting for my cards to refresh after the match. Once I had enough to weather the return damage from the Headsman without crippling myself, I was going to knock that damn Soul’s head off and be out the door no matter what this simpering little noble prick said. “There’s nothing to talk about. We’re not friends, Basil. You felt bad for me and I took advantage of it, and now I’m sick of it. Let me go. This is pathetic.” I’d said the same thing and more on the march to his rooms, using my entire Lows-earned vocabulary of cursing, but apparently he needed to hear it again.

“You said something last night about a crime boss,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to bring it up in the open, but you have to tell me what’s going on.”

I sighed. I never should have said anything. “I’m going to work for him. He’s helping me.”

His mouth dropped open. “Hull, you can’t! Associating with a criminal will ruin everything you’ve gained during the Tournament.”

“Everything I’ve gained in the Tournament is his,” I said, feeling a bit of a sting even as I said it. “I only entered to get away from him, and I knew it couldn’t work forever.”

Basil latched on to a single bit of what I’d said. “So you don’t want to work for him.”

“Yes, I do. He’s giving me what I want.”

He threw up his hands. “What you want? Pardon my language, Hull, but sod that. I’ve watched you duel. You love it. You’re good at it. What you want is to keep building your deck and become one of the most valuable and respected people in Treledyne. I know I’m right.”

I clenched my fists. “You’re not. Respect won’t give me what I need.”

He looked at me like I was spouting a foreign language. “What on the Twins’ good green earth –”

“I need him to kill the King,” I snapped. Immediately I bit my tongue. What are you doing?

Basil sagged. “Hull… look, plenty of folks even at the highest levels would agree with you, but you mustn’t say such things. You never know if he might hear.”

“Let him,” I said, hearing my own bitterness. “He probably already knows anyway.”

He approached me as one might a skittish dog. “What did he say to you at the dinner? Esmi told me he took you aside for an extended conversation with the Prince.”

“He’s my father,” I blurted. Now you’ve done it. What’s wrong with you? Why won’t you shut up? At the same time, I was glad I hadn’t. A tension drained out of me that I hadn’t even known was there. I felt tired. Unburdened.

Basil had gone very still. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m his bastard,” I said, reveling in the sound of the words out loud. “There are lots of us. He told Gerad. He wants us to fight, I think.”

He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “Hull, will you swear to me on your life that this is true?”

I chuckled, feeling better than I had all day. “May Fate herself strike me down if I lie. I swear it by my head, my heart, and my very last card. Oh, and I pretended to be your cousin to get an extra card from the Artisans I couldn’t pay for. Sorry about that.”

He made a pained sound but then shook himself off. “Hull, no matter what wrong the King has done you, this is not the way.” He looked around the empty rooms and lowered his voice. “I myself have considered that someone else might more fruitfully occupy the throne, but skullduggery and murder will not get it done.”

I shook my head. Getting it out in the open felt good, and now I could see more clearly. “What won’t get it done is political jockeying and playing for power. He needs to go down, and it needs to be soon. This is more important than anything, Basil. I’ll die for it if I have to. He’s playing games with the whole city, and it has to stop.”

“It will!” Basil said, eyes wide. “It can! But not like this. Don’t make yourself a criminal for this, Hull. You’re too good a soul to bathe in hate.”

I laughed a little and shook my head. “I’m a Nether user. All I have is hate.”

The door creaked and closed softly behind us. “Hate’s a better motivation than most. Dependable. Though apparently not enough to see you all the way to the top.”

Ticosi stood there looking at me with his bloodshot eyes and dead gaze, his hands in his pockets. My heart sank.

“Excuse me, these are private rooms,” Basil said indignantly. “Remove yourself, sir.” The Headsman, who had been focused on me, saw him for the first time and reoriented itself, holding at the ready for Basil’s command.

Ticosi’s gaze skewered him. “You’re going to give me that demon card back. I’m happy to cut you a little first if it will let you save face for your father and the Watch, but one way or the other I’m walking out of here with it.”

Then he jabbed a finger at me. “And imagine my surprise to see the card you’d promised me was in your room waiting to be delivered in the hands of the very person you came to me for help to beat. Are you very, very stupid, or are you betraying me?”

My heart was hammering. “It was a thoughtless moment. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He grimaced, looking as threatening as I’d ever seen him. “You couldn’t have picked a worse way, it turns out.” He looked back to Basil. “You’ll be giving me the Microburst as well.”

“I’ll be doing no such thing,” he said indignantly. “I gather you’re the thug that’s trying to keep Hull under his thumb, but you will release him from any agreement you’ve made immediately. He wants nothing to do with your nonsense.”

Ticosi arched an eyebrow at me.

I flushed. “Stop talking, Hintal. I work for him. That’s how it is.”

“Hull, you don’t want this!” he cried, impassioned. “I know you don’t!”

It broke my heart to say it, but I did anyway. “You just don’t know me that well.”

“No,” he said, pleading. “You don’t have to kill the King. We can find another way.”

Ticosi sighed and moved to the door, where he picked up a stout plank from where it was propped next to the frame and slotted it into its hooks, barring the door. “Stupider and stupider. You’ve just killed your little friend, Hull.”

Everything inside me froze. Ticosi summoned a dripping ball of Chaos and turned toward me.

“If you’ve told him our plans then he has to die. And if you want to walk out of this room, you’re going to help me do it.”