It didn’t matter how many children straggled behind in the candy shop nor how many errands Cari had him running to keep the house stocked on groceries, whenever Tay had free time away from all that, he was at the game shop. It’d become exceedingly apparent that if he was ever going to get good at Runicka, he’d need to practice. And to practice, he needed people.

Fortunately, there were always people at Peace and Quiet’s game shop. And among those people, there was always Atrofek.

Calling Atro an odd fellow was honestly a bit of a disservice. On his most quiet days, he’d only dance in place as he wiped the floor with Tay. Usually, though, it was jeering and taunts all the way to 0 Life.

Which wasn’t to say that his eccentric behavior wasn’t undercut with brief spouts of wisdom. Tay never had a shortage of questions, and Atro never had a shortage of long thought out answers. And whenever Tay pestered him about it, Atro always had the same response lined up.

“I just want to consider all angles. You really ought to get into the habit of thinking like I do, Tay. There’s only ever one right play when it comes to a decision in Runicka. If you don’t think long and hard, you might just miss it.”

“All I asked was whether or not you like my new Talisman though,” Tay said, practically laughing himself off the side of the table.

Lexorious had shown him chokers and medallions. Crowns and tiaras. Toe rings and earrings. Lexorious had even tried selling Tay on a top-of-the-line stainless steel amulet, but after losing his mother’s it only felt wrong to even think about replacing it, even temporarily. So, Tay’d gone with a silver bracer.

On top, three socketed ley-crystals formed a partial-rainbow triangle. The robonicle he’d picked out rested nearest to his hand. Behind it was a verdant-glowing emeronyx and a tassix as pure and white as a diamond but as bright as a candle. The metal itself was rather plain, with only minor engravings on both ends. The inside was lined with warm, but breathable, fur.

“It’s a fine Talisman, Tay,” Atro said. “But here’s your problem.” And Atro leaned over the table, as if he was about to point out something wrong with the bracer.

But then Atro lifted his finger up to Tay’s chest and said, “You really should’ve waited to show me until I asked. It’s not a courtesy to share what you have socketed into your Talisman, unless your opponent asks to see it, of course. They’ve a right to that, but unless they’re curious about it, best not to give them free information.”

Tay leaned back and slid down his sleeve to cover up his Talisman, smirking to himself. “I didn’t realize you were my opponent, Atro. I thought we were becoming fast friends.”

Atro shrugged. “In this shop, those words might as well mean the same thing. But make no mistake, Tay. I find the best and hardest opponents to beat in Runicka are often those whom you grow close to. And beyond that, every game of Runicka is a bonding experience. The more times you play against somebody, the closer you’ll become to them.”

Now that particular bit of wisdom was a bit harder to swallow, considering that Tay would never—ever—consider his duel against Rantho to be anything close to a bonding experience. Unless the bond itself was one borne of vengeance, Atro was reaching too far with that kernel of insight.

But it wasn’t like Tay made a point to correct Atro’s naive worldviews. The young man might’ve lived in Duskborough, but he was better left in the dark on how cruel the world could really be. Besides, Tay couldn’t really spare any time to correct Atro’s few wisdoms, because he was too busy only-just-barely losing time and time again in their practice duels.

Busy losing, until he wasn’t.

Tay almost thought he’d made a mistake at first. But Atro nodded his head and confirmed that he actually very much had hit 0 Life, and thus lost the game. Tay’s jaw hit the table and he nearly chucked his cards across the whole shop when he jumped out of his seat.

“Didn’t realize I was that big of a trophy,” Atro said.

Tay gave that a shrug and sat himself back down. A couple other people further down the table were looking over, but he hardly cared.

“Just didn’t think I’d actually be able to win against you,” Tay said.

Especially considering for the past couple of games, Atro had taken to dictating the best possible plays Tay could make with his deck for every situation that cropped up. Honestly, it was like playing against a psychic. But not even telepathy could save Atro from eventual defeat, it seemed.

“Really?” Atro said, resting his round chin on his rounder hand. “It’s not like I’m all that much better than you. I’m only Bronze 3 after all. Still got a way to go until I can make it up to Iron.”

“Iron?” Tay took out the bronze card Em had given him the other day. He still didn’t know a thing about it or what any of the empty circles on the back meant. “How do you know you’re Bronze 3? And how do I know I’m Bronze 5?”

“Well, you’re Bronze because you’ve a bronze card,” Atro said.

“Okay, I suppose that was obvious.”

“Ah, but less obvious are the four blank circles on the back.”

Tay shrugged. “I wouldn’t call them not obvious. I just don’t know what they stand for.”

“They stand for your advancement through Bronze.” And Atro pulled out his own bronze card, revealing that two of his circles had stamped indentations in them—one of a falcon, and another in the shape of an octopus. “Each of these stamps pushes you up a level through Bronze, all the way to Bronze 1.”

Tay reached for the bronze card, but Atro pulled it back a little, smiling.

“How do I get these stamps?” Tay asked.

“By playing in Council-sanctioned tournaments,” Atro said. “I got mine by placing in some small tournaments.”

“Neither here,” Em called out from across the shop.

Atro visibly winced, but then said to Tay, “Neither here. These were from some shops in other parts of Duskborough. If you place in or win some local tournaments, that can help you climb out of Bronze and up into Iron.”

Tay flicked over the bronze card and regarded the half-broken sword on the back. He still didn’t know what that meant either.

But, instead, he asked, “What does getting Iron get me? An iron card?”

“Yes,” Atro said. “But other benefits too. You can only play in low-stakes local tournaments as a Bronze player. But with Iron, you can play in higher-prestige tournaments, and you can risk more too. I bet that Polamund you faced is an Iron, believe it or not. Quite impressive that you lasted as long as you did against him, with what you’ve told me.”

Em came by to observe the games happening on the far side of the table. When she passed them, she also added, “Iron players also get discounts. At least, they do here. Different places will respect you more the more you win in Runicka.”

Tay thanked her for the information, and then asked Atro, “What are the smaller circles on the bottom of the card?”

“Those’ll be how many times you can lose before you get downgraded to the previous rank. If you’re an Iron, and lose in five tournaments, you’ll be knocked back into Bronze.”

“And if I’m already Bronze?”

Atro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, you lose your card, and get knocked into obscurity until you can afford to get a new card entirely.”

Tay noticed, while Atro fiddled with his card, that four out of five of the smaller circles had small dots in them. Which meant if Atro competed in another tournament and then lost, he’d lose his Bronze card and be forced into starting over from scratch again.

Tay fiddled with his card too, and kept leaving it face up on the broken sword side. Eventually, he asked Atro about it.

“That’s the symbol of the Runic Council,” Atro said.

“So, I don’t mean to sound daft, but who exactly are the Runic Council?”

Atro slid his Bronze card back into his belt and then shuffled his Runicka deck. They were Order cards, so they glowed that distinctive snowy white as he slid them over one another.

“You’ve a wealth of questions for me today!” Atro said. “Honestly, it’s refreshing. That’s how you get better at the game. But I’m surprised you don’t know who the Council is though, considering you’re playing their game. They’re the ones who moderate Runicka and make the rules.”

“They’re topside?” Tay asked.

“Beats me. I don’t think so though. Whenever people talk about them, they speak as if they’re some forgotten god among the Fourteen or something. If I had to guess, they’re probably secret, and all across the world. That’d make the most sense to me. Maybe one of them’s here, but I don’t think they’d all be in Stormwall. We are tucked away in a far corner of the world with nothing but ocean surrounding us in three directions.”

Tay traced his finger over the sword. “If they’re moderators of a card game, then why’d they pick a broken sword as their symbol?”

Atro shrugged again. “I appreciate all these questions, but you’re asking someone who’s only played this game for a couple more years than you. I don’t know the first thing about them, other than the fact that they release godforsaken starter decks every year, much to everyone’s chagrin.”

“Hey,” Em said, swooping over. “Don’t taunt the starter decks. They’re a good source of coin, they keep new players coming in, and don’t underestimate the value of some of these reprints.”

“Reprints?” Tay asked.

Em grinned. “Yeah. They printed Bruiser Beatdown because folks really needed to get their hands on Grimbeard Bruiser, and that was just a card nobody had before. A lot of Chaos decks used it as good early game removal, especially if they were aggro. Now, with the starter decks, they can get it without having to track down one especially rare card.”

“Makes the price of the rare card drop though, to have more out there,” Atro said.

“Hardly,” Em said. “We still have a copy of the original Grimbeard Bruiser, if you both want to take a look at it. Got him in the case. We haven’t dropped his price at all. In fact, it’s only gone up since more people are able to include him in their decks now. They want to pay a little extra for the prestige of having the original.”

Tay and Atro followed Em over to the glass-encased shelves paralleling two of the shops walls. Em brought their attention down to a card sealed in a small glass case resting at the top of one of the shelves.

(15) Grimbeard Bruiser Unstable Uproar: up to 2 target foe revenants can’t attack until the end of their controller’s next turn. Decay < 1

Tay wanted to say something about how he perceived the card’s power level, but instead found himself distracted by its artwork. It seemed familiar, the art was someone he actually knew.

But he couldn’t possibly have know the Grimbeard, as he’d never seen a cloak quite that black in all his life, as if one could fall right into a void through it. They’d a heavy cudgel in their hands, and a braided beard falling down from a pulled-over hood. And the real kicker was that compared to the buildings around them, the Bruiser was probably only half of Tay’s height.

“That’s powerful,” Atro said.

“But how?” Tay asked. “Its power is only 1.”

“But the Decay aura means that whatever does combat with it will die. It doesn’t matter if it’s thrown against something with 2 Power or 99 Power. It’ll always kill it.”

“Plus, these Chaos decks are using it mostly for stalling,” Em said. “I’ve noticed a lot of low-cost Flying decks recently. They’re trying to get in that damage while there aren’t many Provoke cards making their way around the meta.”

Atro had something to say to that, but Tay let the two of them have their conversation without him. He simply squatted down and took in all the expensive cards that would’ve taken him half a year to save up enough coin for.

Listening to Atro and Em talk Runicka made him all the more aware of how much he was going to have to learn if he was ever going to be able to beat Rantho. Provoke? Decay? Flying? He had to learn not only these terms, but all the rest of them too. And he’d have to learn them inside and out, and be able to adapt to them on the fly, if he was ever going to win in battle duels.

The fact that Mond had ever been a champion at this game was something to truly admire. His entire life must’ve revolved around Runicka at one point. And Tay was over here just staring at these cards and thinking about how big the journey was.

No, he couldn’t just wait around and think. He’d do his job for Mond, because that’s what he’d told Mond he’d do. But aside from that, he’d come here and practice. He’d practice until he got better, and he’d keep doing that until all of this became second nature.

So, when he rose, there was only one question on his mind.

To Em, Tay asked, “When’s your next tournament going to be?”

Atro was in the middle of talking about a new deck he was cooking up, when they both froze and looked at him. Em smiled lightly, and Atro grinned like a madman.

“See,” Atro said. “Kid’s got a real hunger. There isn’t a soul in the world that ever wants to linger at Bronze 5 for long.”

Em rolled her eyes, but replied as she flicked her golden hoop earring back and forth. “Next tournament is in four days,” she said. “We’re expecting a small crowd, but the winner’ll advance up a Bronze rank. Oh, be sure to have your buy-in too. I’m tired of folks showing up expecting to get a free entry just because our buy-in’s lower than most.”

That last part sent chills down Tay’s back. A buy-in? But he’d just wasted all of his coin on a nice pair of shoes and a Talisman with which he could play Runicka.

And four days wasn’t nearly enough time to get him to his next pay. He’d only just been paid two days ago.

Tay supposed there would always been more tournaments in the future, but he didn’t want to waste any more time before climbing up the ranks of Bronze. If Rantho really was Iron, then he wanted to get there as quick as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was later that night, after Tay finished dinner with Mond, Cari, and Sally that he finally brought up the notion of a Runicka tournament. Mond held his usual grin, but Cari and Sally had complete opposite reactions.

“We should all enter!” Sally said.

But Cari exclaimed, practically at the same time, “Absolutely not! You think it’d be wise to enter into and potentially win a tournament while the Polamunds expect us to be fleeing the city? That’ll just show Rantho that we’re not meaning to leave at all and give him a reason to come down here.”

Mond didn’t say anything, and just kept on grinning.

“It’s not like it’s going to be a big tournament,” Tay said. He felt like he’d already lost his chance to compete. Sally seemed convinced, but Cari definitely was not. And while Mond wasn’t talking, Tay would’ve rather had the older sister on his side, since Cari was the one who helped around the shop the most.

“Big or not, people talk,” Cari said. And to Mond, she said, “People talk, Mond. If the man who faced a Polamund suddenly started playing in tournaments here in Peace and Quiet, the whole city’ll know before long. It’s only going to draw too much heat to us.”

Mond reached up with his good hand and stroked his blond mustache. He drew his brow low, and then began to slowly nod his head. “He needs to get better, Cari,” Mond said.

“Then teach him,” Cari said. “You’re the champion, after all.”

“I need to get better too. The game’s changed so much in the past twenty years—it's like its entirely new to me. My cards, my strategies, everything I knew about Runicka is out-of-date, just like me.”

Cari stood at the table and then began shaking her head. “Oh no. I’ve humored this long enough. Mond, people might notice if Tay starts attending these Peace and Quiet tournaments. People will notice if the former Runicka champion for all of Stormwall starts putting himself back out there. That’s the one thing we can’t risk, Mond. People. Will. Talk.”

Sally was stammering, trying her very best to not only be a part of the argument that had gotten away from her, but also to throw her hat in to these tournaments which were still far too old for her. Tay considered her lucky that that was her only problem, because he felt like Cari had shot an arrow right into his heart, and then twisted it until he could see nothing but white.

Not only was she saying that he couldn’t compete in this tournament. But because he’d mentioned it, she was petitioning for him to not attend any Runicka tournament. And without tournaments, he might as well let Rantho engrave his name into his mother’s amulet. It would be that hopeless.

“You’re right,” Mond said.

Tay held his breath.

And Cari did too, but keep her gaze firmly fixed onto Mond. “I’m what?” she asked, voice belying her shockedness.

“You’re right,” Mond said, and then stood up, gathering up everyone’s empty plates. “Tournaments are too risky for the time being.”

Cari sat herself back down, and sighed long and hard. “Thank you,” she finally said. To Tay, she related, “Sorry, Tay. It’s just too dangerous for all of us right now.”

“But tournaments are exciting!” Sally said. “Cari, why don’t you ever like to do anything fun?”

Cari immediately scowled, but Mond put a hand on Sally’s shoulder, shaking his head. “We’ll have plenty of our own tournaments between the four of us, Sally. Don’t you worry.”

And as Mond came by to collect Tay’s plate, he caught the big man looking directly at him from the side when Mond said again, “Don’t you worry.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Tay awoke the next morning, he found two pieces of paper on top of his partially-destroyed dresser. One was the size of a Runicka card denoting his place and participation in the tournament, now three days out.

The other was a note with only two words inscribed upon it.

Be ready, it said.

And Tay would. In fact, he already was.