All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG-Book 5: It’s About Time

When Arthur became aware again, every muscle, every joint was sore. His head rang and throbbed at the same time, and everything from his teeth to the soles of his feet hurt.

He slit open his eyes and looked around. Things were . . . off. He got glimpses of a starlit sky bracketed by the dark outline of bare branched trees. The grass under his cheek was colorless and dry, as if it had never seen water.

Where . . . came the hazy thought. Then he registered the sound of water slapping against a bank and the slight creak of wood. That all clued him in on where he was.

He was on the shore of the dark rower’s river.

As Arthur twisted his neck, he saw that the dark rower was bent over him, examining him like a dead bug.

Though Arthur was less than a foot away and staring directly up at him, he still could not see inside that hood.

“Magical backlash,” the rower said in his rattling voice.

“Will he be well?” Brixaby demanded.

“He is recovering already. Look.” He pointed one skeletal hand at Arthur.

Abruptly, Brixaby’s nose pushed into his vision. “Arthur! You are awake!”

Slowly, painfully, he sat up.

“Brixaby . . . it’s okay,” he said. “I think . . . I’ll be fine.” Though the pain and terrible aches were only slightly dampened, at least he was becoming more awake. “What happened?”

“When the heart fell, there was . . . I do not know how to describe it. It was not quite an explosion. It struck you more than me.”

He blinked. They had been in the same cavern and Brixaby had been closer to the heart. How did Arthur get the worst of it? “Why?”

“Because I am a dragon,” Brixaby snapped, exasperated. “You are a fragile human, and you should learn to be more careful and take fewer risks.”

He was not in a good mood.

The rower spoke up. “You have tampered with the forces of true creation. But if I’m not mistaken . . . you have come out the richer for it.”

What did that mean? Was he talking about his heart deck? Had something happened to his cards?

No, wait . . . the shards.

He reached into his Personal Space and pulled out the bucket of shards.

They glowed with white-blue power in this dark place—practically the only color here.

Arthur stared down at them. These were not ordinary shards.

Brixaby made a noise and thrust his muzzle forward, snuffling in the bucket with such intensity that Arthur thought he was going to start munching down on them. Then he reeled back, his bloodred eyes were wide. “Are these . . . Legendary shards?”

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“The core was an Uncommon,” Arthur said, but he was not arguing. His senses were telling him the same thing. “How could we pull these from an Uncommon?”

Then his mind fastened on that last thick vein—by far the largest that Brixaby had cut through. He answered his own question. “Because it was being fed power by something that was stronger than a Legendary. It was using those shards as seeds to portion out trickles of that power to others.”

His mind reeled, and he quickly had to put his hand flat on the grass to keep from tipping over in shock.

“Arthur,” Brixaby said anxiously, “you are not well.”

“No, but I’m starting to feel better.” He took in a shaky breath. This pain went more than skin deep. This was a spiritual hurt, very much akin to when he had his card anchor disintegrate on him. “These shards were worth it.”

Brixaby gave him a long assessing look, and then nodded. “Does your Master of Cards tell you anything more?”

That was a good question. Arthur reached out and hovered his hand over the bucket. He definitely felt the strength of Legendary power rolling off the shards. “No doubt they’re Legendary,” he repeated, “but . . . you’re right. There’s more to them. They feel like . . .”

It was so close, he could almost put his finger on it, but not quite. And then it came to him all at once. His eyes opened and he looked at Brixaby in surprise.

“They feel a little like Asha and Equinox. Origin shards?” he asked, testing out the term. He looked at Brixaby. “Do Asha and Equinox ever feel different to you? More powerful?”

“They are very young.” To his credit, Brixaby gave the question some thought before he fully answered. “There is much potential in them, but,” he quickly added, “not as much as there would be should they have been Legendary dragons, of course.”

“Of course,” Arthur said, “but even the Mythics recognized that they are Origin dragons. And these were Origin shards.”

Arthur looked again at the glowing mass of shards in the bucket. One thing was for sure.

“I’m not going to pay these as part of any blood price.” He turned to his dragon. “Brixaby, help me.”

Brixaby bent, allowing Arthur to put his hand on top of his head so he could lever himself up. Standing, he reached down and grabbed the bucket, then he limped to the rowboat.

Instantly, the dark rower was all business again. “What is your destination?”

“Nowhere right now,” Arthur said. “I just didn’t want any shards to get lost in the grass.” Then he upended the bucket onto one of the wooden slatted seats and sat down again. “Brixaby, help me find the corner and edge pieces. I think there might be enough for an entire card here.”

The rower took his seat, too, but did not push off the pier. He watched with interest, and Arthur tried not to let his rattling breaths distract him.

Each shard piece was tinier than he’d ever had to deal with before. Each was a little smaller than the size of his smallest fingernail.

Brixaby had fine control over his claws because of his weaponsmithing. But Arthur had his Master of Cards and a Card Smithing class that instinctively told him which piece went where. After finding the four corner pieces, they got to work.

The rower rattled, “A card forged here in between worlds will have interesting properties.”

Arthur nearly jumped. The rower had been so quiet that he and Brixaby had forgotten about him. Even now, he sat by, watching them without comment. And of course, there was no face to read an expression by.

“You mean it’ll be useful to us?” Arthur asked, looking up.

“All cards are useful in their own way. Is a Common card which can return life to a dead seed not of use to someone? Especially when that seed grows into a tree which nourishes a community?”

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Brixaby snorted, but Arthur nodded. “I see your point.”

Arthur looked up at the strange being in consideration. He did not know if this was a person, a card construct, or even if it mattered at all. But after a moment, he decided it would not hurt to ask his question.

“Does where you put the shards together affect the outcome of the card?”

“Everything affects the outcome,” the rower rasped. “Intent, place . . .” He weaved his hooded head back and forth in an unconscious so-so gesture that sent the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck up. “A bit of randomness thrown in.”

Arthur nodded. This was nothing he had not guessed at himself. “Do you know what this card will be?”

“Powerful,” he said with relish.

Brixaby scoffed. “It will be Legendary. Of course it will be powerful.”

Arthur couldn’t argue. Instead, he went about carefully nudging each tiny shard into place. Each shard was oddly shaped, with more edges than a Common—some downright spiky—which made the whole process much more complex. And yet, as he sank into the rhythm of the work, he felt how each shape and curve fit into its neighbor. The process was almost meditative.

Though he was still pained, and a little dazed from the magical backlash, he set his discomfort aside. He gathered up all of his disparate pieces of focus and sharpened them like a needle. This was important.

Common cards could be made by fitting almost any pieces together. Even children made their own Common cards out of shards.

Uncommon cards were a bit trickier, but still manageable with some forethought. He had never tried a Rare, but a Legendary was so much more complex.

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it without his Master of Cards and Cardomancy Class.

Brixaby handed him the pieces, and he looked them over, sliding them into the correct place where they needed to go.

And, against all odds—or perhaps not, because it almost felt like that the card was building itself—it seemed—he had the exact right number to finish the card.

As he worked, Arthur felt another wave of exhaustion wash over him. This was costing some sort of energy.

Maybe it’s the life force that Chester is taking from other people, he thought, wryly. I’m pouring myself into this card.

Brixaby handed him another piece. He twisted and turned it and fit it near one edge. Two more pieces to go. He kept his breathing steady, afraid to look up or even move too fast.

The last shard clicked into place, and he felt all the shards balanced in his mind. It was precarious, as if the whole construct balanced on the edge of a cliff and was in danger of tipping over.

Arthur did not dare tear his eyes away. This needed his concentration. Today, he truly felt like a card smith.

The power wavered within the shards. He could practically see the card matrix building itself. Before his eyes, all the pieces seemed to flow together, then grew bright, too bright to look at.

Eventually Arthur was forced to look away. Spots danced in front of his vision.

But the notifications still popped into his mind.

New body enhancement gained: Focus Under Pressure

Level 7

Skill level gained: Card Intuition (Card Smith class)

Level 16

Skill level gained: Card Manipulation (Card Smith class)

Level 10

Skill level gained: Card Insight (Card Smith class)

Level 8

Skill level gained: Card Insight (Card Smith class)

Level 9

Skill level gained: Card Insight (Card Smith class)

Level 10

The card finally dimmed, and Arthur and Brixaby bent over to read over the newest Legendary card in the world.

It’s About Time!

Legendary

Time

The wielder of this card will be able to manipulate time at will. By using a high amount of mana, the wielder will be able to increase or decrease the passage of time. This effectively speeds up or slows down the world around them. There is no set limit on the time delay or increase, but the wielder may experience temporal strain or sustained feeling of disconnection with overuse. Warning: Extreme feelings of temporal disconnection may induce psychosis.

Seek out other time-based cards for future sight, past travel, temporal illusions, and age manipulation.

He and Brixaby looked at each other with wide eyes. Even the rower bent to look down at the card with interest.

“Yes, this is a very powerful card,” Brixaby all but purred.

“A time card . . .” Arthur trailed off. “Marion’s old time card gave him a lot of trouble, though I don’t think it was part of this set.”

“Yes, I remember. He was unable to turn off the effects,” Brixaby said dismissively. “This is not nearly the same. Now the question becomes: Do I consume it and add it to my strength, or does one of us add it to our decks in the traditional way?”

Arthur frowned. That was a good question. “Last time you consumed a Legendary card with your Call of the Void, you grew a lot.”

He straightened up, though he looked slightly pained. “It is right and proper that a Legendary be . . . large.”

Arthur knew admitting that had bruised his ego. He was right, though. Legendary dragons were typically intimidatingly giant.

“It will be a little suspicious if you show up to Blood Moon Hive double or triple your size, or even more,” Arthur admitted. “And if you did it that way, you’d only be able to use just an aspect of the card, not the entire thing.”

The last Legendary card Brixaby had consumed had been strong enough to rip a body apart and had nearly killed them all. And that had been activated by dragons who were actively dying while using it.

Brixaby had received his Stunning Shout ability from it, and it was certainly very useful, but it wasn’t the full potency of the original card.

And that wasn’t even going into the fact that adding it to Call of the Void would permanently destroy the card, and any chances that somebody could create a full set out of it. Arthur certainly did not want to give this card to the other time-wielding Legendary pair, but he wasn’t all that comfortable removing any card—especially a powerful, unique card like this—from the world permanently.

“This is a very, very good card,” Arthur said with a sigh.

He fully expected Brixaby to have his own arguments, but his dragon simply looked pained. “You should . . . Ugh, you should take it,” he finished in a growl. “We should get full usage out of this card, and . . .” His expression grew so pained that Arthur almost felt concerned. “I do not have room in my secondary core. I am still growing and maturing. I could likely add an Uncommon card if I needed to, but a Legendary is . . . too much,” he finished very quickly. “It may not be ready for a year or more. Do you have room in your heart deck?”

Arthur’s heart deck had become malleable since the finishing the challenges within the Dark Heart and his Master of Cards.

“I could add it,” Arthur said, “but the magical weight of a new Legendary that’s not linked to any of my current sets is still a lot.”

“Could you alter it to be part of your set?”

Master of Time did sound promising,

Reluctantly, Arthur shook his head. “I’d have to become much more advanced in my Card Smithing to attempt something like that on a Legendary. Just putting this thing together out of shards took a lot out of me.”

And if he made a mistake . . . he could just imagine the amount of power that would be released. He would be dead before he even realized he’d erred, and possibly take out half of Blood Moon Hive’s tower with him. The amount of power between a Rare card and a Legendary was quite large. Like a deep lake versus an ocean.

But despite all that, he wanted the card. How often did one get to manipulate time?

So he lifted up the card and paused. He sensed that even if the rower allowed him to store it in his Personal Space right now, the thing was too magically heavy, and Arthur was still recovering from the magical backlash.

So he slipped the extremely powerful card in his pocket, though it felt so very wrong to do so.

“Let’s only tell the retinue. If anyone else asks, we only got the Common shards from the, uh, proto-nests.” Yes, that was a good name for them. “That should be more than enough for them.”

Brixaby snorted, and then finally looked at the rower. “We wish to return back to the cavern inside the main eruption cone.”

Arthur assumed that Brixaby visualized the area as well because the rower didn’t ask which eruption cone they were talking about. He only nodded and pushed the rowboat off the pier.

The ride down the river was ridiculously short, as he and Brixaby were not going very far, physically. Just through tons and tons of rock. It seemed they had just started down the river when the rower was pulling the boat to a pier which had not been there a moment before.

Arthur stumbled and almost fell as he got out of the rowboat. The last of his energy was simply gone, and it was all he could do just to keep moving forward.

He must have looked even worse than he felt because Brixaby said roughly, “Climb up on my back. I will carry you the rest of the way.”

It was only a few dozen feet to the entrance of the portal, but Arthur was feeling so bad, exhausted and hurting, that he gladly took his dragon up on the offer.

Scrambling up his neck was tiring enough. He was very glad Brixaby was a small dragon.

He and Brixaby emerged from the portal on the other side to see that the eruption cavern was mainly unchanged. None of the other purples in the wing had returned yet.

But the others all turned to look at them.

“What happened to you?” Horatio said after a stunned second. “Other than getting buried alive?”

“Who gave you the black eyes?” Cressida demanded, coming up and peering at him.

“Black eyes?” Arthur repeated. His voice, which had been improving in the dark rower’s strange world, once again felt ragged. The air down here wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been around the core of the eruption, but it was bad enough to irritate already aching lungs.

Brixaby shrugged his wings. “The magical backlash was . . . quite striking. I felt no need to tell you that you look like a raccoon.”

“Ugh, let’s get out of here,” Arthur said.