Chapter 12: Heart of Darkness

  A shiver went down Ambrose’s spine as he understood. “You’ve reached Affinity Level 10.”

  Sidney gave a mock bow. “As of five years ago. I am a member of a rare fellowship of individuals who have actually reached our full magical potential. I’ve dedicated myself to the path of Shadow, and now my Cantrip is stronger than most cards. My Signature Creature is no longer a mere servant, but a powerful, respected equal, and…well, perhaps you’ll find out the other perks yourself, some day.”

  The starry room began to spin, faster and faster until Ambrose had to close his eyes to fight off the dizziness. When he opened them again, the room had changed into a lavish library, where several chairs and couches ringed a roaring fireplace. It was odd, the place didn’t feel or smell like anything.

  “Ah, here we are. It’s better we avoid dealing with tourists while we chat.” Sidney motioned toward two plush armchairs facing each other. “Welcome to one of my pocket dimensions. It’s possibly my favorite perk of Shadow mastery.”

  Although he had always been trained to hide his reactions behind an aloof exterior, Ambrose was genuinely impressed. There were always rumors about what the masters could accomplish, but it was a different thing to experience it first hand. He took the seat opposite Sidney, and didn’t bother to hide his amazement.

  “If I master Shadow, I’ll have a pocket dimension of my own?” he asked.

  Sidney burst out laughing. “No, I don’t think so. At least, not without trying to get there. The cards we use and base our decks around, they have a way of shaping us. I happen to be a master of spatial magic, with a Signature Creature to match. What is yours?”

  Shame burned him. He’d still not had much of a chance to use his creature, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “It’s a [Hateful Imp]. It could be worse, I suppose. One of my classmates has a stupid goat.”

  “Show me.”

  While combat cards could only be used in an official fight, Signature Creatures could be summoned at any time, albeit with a risk. If anything happened to his imp outside of combat, it would be unavailable for at least a couple of hours. Many wizards didn’t bother summoning them outside of specific uses, while others treated theirs like pets.

  Ambrose sighed, and called on the magic. The summoning circle appeared on the floor in front of him, and took only two seconds to fill in and bring forth his [Hateful Imp]. It looked up at him with red eyes, blazing with malice. It crouched on all fours, spreading its leathery wings wide once before bringing them close to its body.

  “I wanted a demon, and this is what they gave me,” he said.

  “You were very fortunate,” said Sidney, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look. “Mine was a wispy, cowardly thing at first. Smaller than your imp, and it was nearly useless in combat. And now…”

  The Shadow Master’s summoning circle had a diameter of about eight feet long, and as the purple light filled in and became opaque, it stopped at five feet tall. Four main, powerful limbs with killing claws, and dozens of appendages coming off its back and sides. Six cobalt eyes lined its feline head, and twin fangs jutted from the top of the wide, hungry maw. When the color came in, the creature was black with white stripes and tendrils.

  “This,” said Sidney, “Is my [Horizon-Eater].”

  [Horizon-Eater: Legendary. A dark, apex predator with mastery over space and darkness. It’s capable of being anywhere at any time, and is always watching.

  Special: Gravity Warp. This creature can change the direction and intensity of gravity within a ten foot radius.

  Special: Darkness Shift. This creature can teleport between shadows.

  Strength: A. Defense: B. Speed: S. Magic: A.]

  “I call him Yendis.”

  Ambrose snorted, despite how impressed he actually was. “Seriously?”

  Sidney had the grace to laugh as well. “I was young when I named him, and I thought it was clever then. Whatever you name your imp, make it a name to be respected and feared.”

  He eyed his Signature Creature, who probably had just as little respect and regard for him as he did it. The idea of naming the thing instead of just treating it like a tool at his disposal…

  “Noted,” he said, and tried to think of the possible special powers his imp would one day have.

  “What’s your deck’s focus?” Sidney prodded him. His Signature Creature took this opportunity to wander the library on his own, while Ambrose’s imp continued to stare daggers at him.

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  “Discard and draining life,” said Ambrose with a bit of pride. “When I get my Enhancement card at the end of the year, I hope to get something that punishes people for discarding or not casting spells.”

  “Excellent. Then if I were to guess, you’re focusing on anti-wizard combat. Disrupt their spells and outlast them?”

  Ambrose nodded.

  “Word of advice then, Ambrose. When you’re strong enough or rich enough to worry about this, always keep enough cards to form a second deck on hand. If you know what you’re facing, you can come prepared for multiple scenarios.”

  “Risky,” said Ambrose, thinking of the possibility of losing those cards more easily. Not to mention, swapping cards out would leave one a sitting duck, and it couldn’t be done in combat.

  “Are you trying to tell me you’re afraid of a little risk?” the Shadow Master challenged.

  With a smile, Ambrose said, “Obviously not. Everyone else in my class plays it safe. It makes them predictable. I see the value of what you’re saying. I need to get enough good cards to be able to make that second deck. I’m afraid my resources have been a little…”

  He trailed off, realizing he’d gotten too comfortable. This was not something to speak of in front of strangers. Sensing his discomfort, the imp let out a peal of cackling laughter.

  Sidney didn’t seem to care. He gave a solitary, nonjudgmental nod. “I thought your name was familiar. Your grandfather nearly reached mastery, correct?”

  He couldn’t stop the instinctive wince. “No, he tried to equip a Level 8 card too early, and fell into a fugue. A patient assassin, planted in our household, chose that time to strike.”

  “Mm. And they took his cards, I’d wager. Yes, your house has had a run of bad luck, hasn’t it?” Coming from Sidney, it didn’t sound mocking or eager, merely thoughtful. Whatever Ambrose had expected out of a powerful Shadow wizard, he wasn’t it. “Perhaps that could change. Show me your deck.”

  It could be dangerous, giving that kind of information to someone. But then, a master had nothing to fear from a third year like him. Ambrose held up his hand and brought up each card individually, moving on to the next at a nod from Sidney.

  When he was finished, the first words out of the master’s mouth was, “You don’t have enough creatures, I think. And nothing to make you a direct threat, other than your cantrip. If I had to guess, you rely too much on neutralizing cards before they can affect you, but with that comes a problem: sometimes luck will piss on you in your time of need.”

  “Pretty much,” Ambrose admitted. “I know I need to think of a weapon, even if it’s just a dagger. It won’t help me for the tournament anyway. Not that I need it. I know my classmates, and there are maybe two of them who pose a threat.”

  Sidney quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so? You seem to think highly of yourself. Vanderborn does as well. Maybe there is something to it, maybe not. But if there’s one thing I think we have in common, Ambrose, is we know the value of risk versus reward. So tell me, what are you willing to do to win?”

  For a second, he was tempted to tell Sidney about the Wildcard, and his plot to take it. It was hard not to want to trust him, the kindred spirit that he was. But then Ambrose’s own prickly nature made him bristle at the thought of being so careless. Perhaps that was one of the master’s strengths, disarming people to learn their weaknesses.

  “Whatever it takes,” he said evenly. “I am going to win.”

  Sidney laughed again and stood up. “I believe you. And what happens when you do, and you go to your fourth year and finish out your education? What do you plan on doing with yourself? Will you take on a second affinity, or will you see what commitment and dedication get you by following my direction?”

  This was a test, and he wasn’t trying to hide it. Ambrose stood with him, and snapped his fingers. His [Hateful Imp] scurried over, grumbling to itself. “I will do whatever will make me more powerful, more feared. When I graduate, I am going to become Amaria’s top magehunter, and I am going to remind my family’s enemies that one lucky hit isn’t enough to stop us. We’ll not only be back, but better than before. And…”

  It wasn’t often he could talk about ambition with someone who understood, and wouldn’t judge him for wanting more in life.

  “I’m going to go down in history,” he said, the words coming out slowly. “As a conqueror, a killer, a fighter. I didn’t choose my affinity, but I embrace it. I’m going to graduate, and then…Then I suppose I’ll make a choice in which direction I go, Affinity-wise, but…The end result will be the same. Mastery, and power, at any cost.”

  Sidney smiled again, and stroked his mustache. “I think you’re on the right path, Ambrose Adams. My advice to you is to have just under half your deck be creatures, just under half be your bread and butter spells, and the last sliver should be answers to enemy problems. Consistency matters as much as raw power.”

  Ambrose immediately wanted to argue, but he forced that down. “Thank you for the advice,” he said honestly. It was the first time the Opening Faire’s representatives had been helpful. He bowed his head in respect, and made to leave when he realized he didn’t know how.

  “Allow me,” said the Shadow Master. The library rotated, slowly and then at breakneck speeds. The warm glow of the fireplace became a twisting, turning beacon, chaotically flashing.

  After the need to puke subsided, they were back in the abyss room.

  “One more thing,” he said before Ambrose could leave. “Call it a fun little wager, or maybe an investment. If you are your year’s winner in the tournament, I will do a job for you or your family for free. And I will record it from my point of view, so that you may learn from it.”

  Ambrose’s jaw dropped. Hiring a master would normally be above their budget, even in his grandfather’s time. Just one job, one strike at a rival could single handedly pull them back into the black. And strike some much needed fear in the other great houses.

  “Thank you, Master Sidney,” said Ambrose. “Hope you’re up to putting on a show.”

  Sidney laughed once more and shooed him away.

  Ten minutes later he was back out on the fairgrounds, surrounded by a sea of smiling faces. The general mood was high, but even if everyone else had been miserable, nothing could bring Ambrose down. When he won, he would gain Vanderborn’s respect, his tuition, and now a chance to save his family’s estate.

  With that in mind, he left the Opening Faire behind, and went straight home. They had a long day…no, a long week ahead of them. He needed rest, and to re-think his deck for the coming fights.

  Tomorrow afternoon, his conquest would start with Raeva Ransa.