III. Rumors in the Wind (Chapter Two)
“Hey you, are you a contestant?” A rough voice calls from behind you.
You shake your head at a burly whisker wielding an axe and a round shield.
“Off the stage then; we’re about to start.”
You wave a nervous hand at Burt as you take your leave, but he’s busy staring at his deck. Briman, his opponent for the first round, drags out the chair on the other side and plops onto it.
“May the best whisker win, friend,” he says cheerfully, extending an orange and black-spotted hand.
“Hope they don’t send you back in pieces,” Burt replies genially, accepting the offered greeting.
You hurry through the shadowy passageway leading to the first level of spectator seating, taking a moment to take a deep breath in the coolness. You wonder why you are so nervous even though it’s Burt playing, but then you remember what is at stake. You dearly hope the Atlas of Old is safe with Zul’grasi. You traipse up the sandy stone steps leading back into the roaring ambience and find an empty chair. The crowd is revving up, some impatiently shouting for the matches to begin, others calling out to their favorite competitors.
“Good day for it.” A blue whisker wearing a black anglerfish costume turns to you as you take a seat. “The name’s Popi. Huge Last Fish fan. Come every year, in fact.”
You nod politely, but you are too focused on Burt shuffling and re-shuffling his cards to pay attention to what your neighbor is saying.
“You come here much?”
You shake your head, squinting to see what Burt is doing now.
“First timer, eh? Look up at that projection.”
High above the stage is a flickering rectangular mirage. It looks like a thin, transparent film suspended in the air, and you wonder aloud what it is.
“I assume you can use magic? Well, of course, most whiskers can. All you gotta do is focus a teeny bit of magic at it, and it’ll show you exactly which table you wanna see! Go on, try it.”
You do as you’re told and are surprised to see a close-up of Burt and Briman’s table buzz into view. Burt is studying his Instant cards while Briman is twiddling his fingers with his eyes closed. You clap your hands in excitement. Popi sits back in his chair, nodding in satisfaction.
“My dear whiskers of the Pond!” The announcer on stage outstretches her arms in welcome, a dusty microphone held in one hand. The projection above zaps to show her and zooms in. The noise of the crowd settles down to suppressed whispers. “Your host today will be myself, Delaphani, but you can call me Dela.” She gives a roguish wink, and a few hoots issue from the crowd. “And now, we are about to commence the 53rd annual Shuffle tournament right here in our great city of Amalhasu! Our rules are simple: 1v1 matches only, and may the winner take all! Contestants, take out your decks if you have one.”
Every spectator leans forward in their seats to watch the players at the tables bring out their decks. Burt waves his deck about to show he had his out already, but promptly drops the lot on the floor.
“Say, who’s that clumsy fellow?” Popi inquires, his eyes following Burt as he scuttles around retrieving his precious cards. The other players stare at Burt in either disbelief or annoyance for holding them up. You shake your head and shrug.
“We all know that only one set of cards is used in a game of Last Fish, so we will provide an official deck for every match and keep yours safe,” continues Dela.
“To keep them cheaters at bay,” grumbles Popi. “Not that they really need to do that with those flying around.”
You notice, for the first time, tiny winged creatures hovering over every table. You direct your magic at the projector so you can see what it is.
“Evil Eyes,” Popi says. The creature is basically an eyeball with reddish bat-like wings and a long tail. They flutter above the tables as their eyes swivel this way and that. You agree with Popi; there is no way any foul play could go undetected.
Dela waves her hands, and everyone’s personal cards disappear in a flash, and a single deck, emblazoned with the official pyramid emblem of the Shuffle, appears at the center of each table. You peer at Burt’s table through the projector and see the deck split into two (the Draw deck and the Encounter deck) as though by an invisible dealer. The Draw deck vibrates, and five cards fly from the top into Burt’s hands. The same happens for Briman. There is a sudden magical hum, and on top of every contestant’s head, three floating hearts appear.
“And now, everyone has their starting hands drawn and their life points displayed!” Dela announces it, dancing around in excitement. The crowd slowly crescendos in a yammer of anticipation. “This year, the youngest player will go first! You’ll see our Evil Eyes hover over whoever that is.”
“It’s part of their magic, you know,” Popi interjects. “Evil Eyes are naturally attracted to life force and can tell whose Shard of End has spent more time on the earth. They’re not really evil, per se, but that ability to read whiskers’ life forces can be misused by some.”
You watch with bated breath as the tiny creature flutters this way and that, finally settling over Burt’s head. Burt inhales sharply and screws up his face.
“And now,” Dela whispers into her microphone. The crowd grows deathly silent as every whisker collectively holds their breath. You can hear the distant clamor of the city from outside the arena. Dela suddenly whirls like a ballerina and strikes a pose. “Let the first round of the 53rd annual Shuffle tournament commence! Who will be the last fish standing?!”
There is a sudden explosion from the stage, and the entire arena is covered by a sweeping dust storm. You pull Popi up, who has fallen out of his seat and is laughing.
“This is what I live for!” he roars. “That first BANG when every player draws an Encounter card at the same time! It’s a whole lotta magic being unleashed at once.”
You squint and rub your eyes desperately to see what is going on.
“The projector, newbie, use the projector!”
You slap your forehead and direct your magic at the projector. Immediately a clear vision of Burt and Briman buzzes into view. You had missed what Encounter card Burt had drawn on his first turn but he is now pondering which card to play from his hand. He takes one decisively and places it on the table. Shimmering words appear above his head: Item Card: Paladin’s Chestplate. You gasp as a huge piece of golden armor materializes onto Burt with a resounding series of clanks. You are surprised you’re able to hear it over the tumult. Burt puts up his fist to indicate his end of turn and Briman draws his cards.
“Item cards are always important to block damage. And boy, what an amazing bit of magic, that projector is. It really lets you experience each match,” Popi says. Briman grimaces at his new card before revealing a card from the Encounter deck. “He mustn’t have gotten anything good. Oh, look out!”
From the Encounter card Briman had just drawn, a giant green salamander bursts out and unleashes a jet of emerald flames. No one seems to get burnt, but you certainly do hear and feel the crackling of fire. The dust cloud that had engulfed the stage has settled, but with so much magic flying about, it’s still difficult to see what’s going on without the projector. Briman looks through the deck, selects a card, and puts it in his hand. He shrugs and raises his fist.
“I hope y’all hats are still on your heads after that first round, phew!” Dela amplified voice booms across the arena. “By now, everyone’s moving onto their second round, so get ready to see some real sparks fly!”
You nod feverishly. Even you know that the second round is when players are allowed to begin attacking each other. Burt draws his cards (a shiny rainbow feather floats to the table as the Encounter card is revealed), and his face lights up. He slaps a card on the table. Attack Card: Crescent Lightning.
“We have our first casualty of the tournament. What a ripper of a blow!” Dela screams into the mic.
A bolt of lightning cracks down on Briman and impales his chest. You leap to your feet in horror, but Briman only looks mildly annoyed. He glances up at his floating hearts as one dissipates. Burt looks triumphantly at his opponent as he raises his fist.
“Don’t worry, folks! The attacks and spells look real enough, but it’s mainly for show,” Dela continues, dancing around. “Contestants should only feel a slight tingle. I hope.”
“Clumsy boy plays a strong game,” Popi says, nodding his approval. “You sure you don’t know him? You’ve looked at nothing else since you’ve sat here.”
You confess to him that you know him and, daresay, he is your closest friend.
“Well, well, you’ll be gunning for him to win then,” Popi says heartily. “But I’ll tell ya, the Shuffle ain’t an easy tournament to win.”
You tear your eyes away from Briman, who just played Attack Card: Divine Hammer to send Burt flying out of his seat with a colossal war hammer, and urge Popi to tell you more.
“Aye, you’ve heard of the Windrosian Royale? Well, the Shuffle is nothing like that. It’s rife with blackmail and under-the-table dealings to get certain players to win. They can bring in all the authorities they want but this is Amalhasu. The law of the streets reigns supreme. I’ve heard rumors that one of the contestants this year has a particularly nasty backer, and everyone’s afraid of facing them. In case they get bumped off or something.”
Popi pauses to applaud a whisker on the other side of the stage who played Spell Card: Consuming Darkness to take the last remaining heart of her opponent to win the match.
“But I don’t blame them. The Shuffle is notorious for some incredibly rare prizes, and this year’s no exception.”
Burt, still looking slightly dazed by Briman’s ferocious attack, draws a card from the Encounter deck, only to be blown off his chair again by Encounter Card: Gust of the Heron. Popi motions for you to lean close to him as he drops his voice to a murmur.
“I’ve heard this year’s prize is a magical artifact that’s never been seen by the average whisker. The story goes that a well-known merchant from Wisteria tried to cart it to Amalhasu for appraising, but he got ambushed and killed on the way there. Some say it was desert bandits; others say it was some corrupt Wisterian figure behind it all. In any case, it traveled through our markets and ended up as the grand prize of this year’s Shuffle. What do you make of that, hey?”
You cast a worried look over Burt as he raises a wobbly fist to end his turn after playing Item Card: Robe of the Phoenix.
“Anyway, it’s all rumors,” Popi says in his normal voice, sitting back in his chair.
“Looks like Burt’s doing well. Mind if I sit next to you?” A quiet voice in your ear makes you jump around.
It’s Quatal. You gesture wildly at the stage.
“Yes, yes, I was supposed to play, but it looks like my opponent has pulled out.”
You look to where Quatal’s first match was supposed to take place and see it being cleared. The Evil Eye is flapping dejectedly over the empty seats. You ask Quatal if this happens often.
“Not really; I mean, the entrance fee is quite expensive,” Quatal replies, shrugging. “But it’s worked out for me. I had to run an emergency errand and I feared I wouldn’t make it back in time.”
You stare at Quatal. How could the star Shuffle player take such a risk of being disqualified? You look at his bag, which is bulging slightly, but Quatal quickly pushes it under the seat.
“Nothing to worry about, my friend,” he says, his pallid face turning a milky pink. “Say, check out Burt’s match!”
You spin around and focus on the projector. Both Briman and Burt have a single floating heart above their heads, and neither of them have any damage-blocking Items equipped. With sweat pouring down their faces, they seem to be poised in a standoff. Most other players had finished their preliminary matches and had turned to watch Burt and Briman.
“My good whiskers of the Pond, never have we witnessed a more electrifying first round in the history of the Shuffle!” Dela is positively jumping about in excitement around their table. “Now, who will win this match and take a step closer to Last Fish glory?!”
“The Evil Eye’s over Briman, so it’s his turn,” Quatal mutters. “This is a crucial moment, my friend. It could be over in a few seconds.”
Briman suddenly whips out a card from his hand and slams it on the table.
“And Briman comes out with a monstrous Attack Card: Judgement!” Dela screams. “Take cover, fishies!”
The sky turns momentarily black, and an immense beam of golden light drops like a torpedo towards Burt. But Burt had readied a card as soon as Briman used Judgement, and he now holds it up against the sky.
“Oh my,” Dela shrieks as Instant Card: Guard Counter appears over Burt’s head. The beam of light abruptly changes course and shoots at Briman. Briman lets out a guttural war cry and slaps a card on the table.
“The Gourd of the South.” Quatal rises from his chair and wrings his hands in front of him. You have never seen Quatal this worked up before. “Briman intends to take Burt down with him.”
A deep horn-like sound reverberates throughout the stage, and a giant gourd appears in front of Briman. It tips, and a whirlwind of sparkling sand shoots out from its opening, whipping around both Briman and Burt.
“Briman’s Instant card will end the match in a draw! Whiskers of the Pond, is this it?” Dela is cowering at the edge of the stage.
You also can’t help but shield your eyes; even though no one would actually get hurt, the magic looks and feels real enough.
The thousand-strong crowd collectively gasps as Burt lifts yet another card from his hand and tosses it onto the table: Instant Card: Chrono Reversal. An ornate hourglass pops out of the card.
“In my years of seeing the best of the best, I’ve never witnessed this before.” Popi's mouth is wide open.
The swirling sand from the gourd and the beam of light from the sky slow down until they hang frozen in the air. The stage becomes dead quiet. You could hear a whisker fidgeting in their seat from the other side of the stadium. Then, a crack appears in the side of the hourglass and an eerie green plasma bursts out. It hits Briman’s Instant Card: Gourd of the South, vaporizing it, and with it, the giant gourd and the whirlwinds of sand disappear too.
“He’s done it!” Quatal leaps into the air.
Briman’s eyes widen with horror as the beam of heavenly light he had originally fired at Burt strikes him clean in the face, and his final heart crumbles away.
“Bless the Old Wizard,” Dela croaks into her mic as the crowd erupts in ecstasy. “Shuffle rookie Burt has won his first round and quite possibly given us the most thrilling first round match of Last Fish we have ever seen. Just…wow. Live this moment, folks.”
The players from the other tables stand and cheer for Burt, not bothering to hide their surprise at Burt’s prowess. Briman, after picking himself up from the floor, shakes his head in defeat and comes around the table to grasp Burt’s hand. You are beside yourself, clapping and whooping for your friend.
“Yes, yes, excellent stuff,” Quatal says. “This tournament is truly going to be interesting this year.”