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"You... won't revive them?!" I scream into the skies, the blood seeping through my fingers. Tears stain my vision, blurring the dampening corpses of my friends beside me.
"You were not meant to live, Novak," the voice-- HIS voice-- booms in my head. Never before had it felt so... damning.
Strewn about are the pieces of my friends, my party. I hover over our elven leader, his green eyes lidded into a sorrowful remnant of a smile.
It's okay, Novak. You've done enough.
His last words replay over and over and over in my head. Why? Why had my magic gone? Why had my god abandoned me in my most dire time of need?
"Just... just give them back," my hands go numb from the consistent rhythmic compressions on my friend's chest, "...Please."
"Pathetic," the voice booms again, the voice of my deity, Thanatos, rings like tinnitus in my ears, "The last grace I'll gift you is your life. Remember, Novak, you were meant to join them in the soil. Be grateful I even gift you a morsel of your life."
Absence filled where Thanatos had been for 38 years. In the back of my mind, he was always there; Occupying, watching, seeing, guiding. In it's place, the void. A strange feeling filled my soul. The emptiness of loss and the freedom of oppression tangled inside of me.
"Halion..." I stared down at the elven corpse underneath my weight. My arms shake and give out, my body falling next to his.
"Clara... Zaveer... everyone... I'm so sorry," my voice cracked. I closed my eyes. It wasn't the first time I had lost companions, but these three... we shared many feasts around a campfire. Days had felt shorter with them around. Even in a struggle, nothing felt like it could go wrong with them by my side. Behind my eyelids, I forced the mangled images of them out and reminisced with the pooling warm blood turning cold beneath me.
Clara was always one for jokes. She knew just the thing to say to turn any face into a smile. For a halfling rogue, she was rather charismatic. Every morning, she would practice her sleight of hand on a new braid style. Today's was a mermaid braid.
Zaveer was our residential cynic. He would always be the voice of reason, and never strayed away from playing Devil's Advocate. We always joked about how, out of everyone, we never understood how HE became a Bard. While the black dragonborn lad was smart and great at conversation, we'd never met someone more prickly on the outside than in. I can still hear him exercising caution about another mission or questgiver.
And Halion... our leader. He may not have been the most outspoken, he had a heart of gold. He would only ever raise his blade as a Paladin at those who were unredeemable in his eyes. We'd fought many bandits, but he would never unsheathe his blade against them until he had heard of their repeated offenses. Even then, they'd have to be quite heinous for him to take action.
Now, Halion's lifeless smile looks at me with Clara's body eviscerated to a puddle in this disgusting, forgotten chapel. Zaveer's legs poke out from underneath a boulder that had fallen in from the combat. Next to Zaveer's corpse was a large, ape-like creature with horns coming out from the top of it's head. It's long face, now crushed by the falling rubble, had always been filled with rage until this moment. Never had I met a creature like this one, one that was not only such a massive ape, but to control lightning itself is a feat unlike any other. We knew too little, and it was too late.
Thanatos, my deity, had told us the night prior that a beast had destroyed a chapel of his nearby. Yet he chose to tell us it was just a "simple ape infestation." By his own words, we were meant to die. But why? He had been by my side for the longest time. What purpose is there in our death here? To some gigantic monkey, no less? His teachings tell us of our deaths being the most pivotal moment of our lives, but this was the lives of people who could- no, WOULD- become heroes if given the chance. So why us? Why... me?
I opened my eyes again. The scenic sunset covered the dead in shades of pinks and gold. My tears stained my face, getting stuck in the stubble of my beard. The stone rubble of a chapel surrounded me, the ceiling gone long before we had arrived. The walls, unsteady with nothing holding them, had tumbled in recently. The blood of my friends pooled all around me, staining my black and gold robes. I gripped the armor of Halion's body tightly, and everything went white as I screamed at the top of my lungs, never letting him go.
When I came to, I found myself muttering, "Rest in peace, in the name of the world, stay pure." An old incantation meant to keep the curse of undeath from invading the recently deceased. Though, I knew there was no need. Zaveer & Clara had no body to come back, and Halion was a paladin with an innate holy nature. Still, I muttered. I muttered while holding him close. I muttered while staring at the viscera of Clara. I muttered when looking at the legs of Zaveer. I muttered as I left these ruins behind, heading toward the mountains in the distance. Anywhere but here would be better, I thought to myself... or maybe I muttered again.
I felt the blood drip and dry from my clothes as I walked away from the ruinous chapel. The village it had resided in had been long since abandoned, no one around to say or hear a thing that had happened. In retrospect, that should have been my first sign that something was amiss. My fist clenched at the thought, my legs never stopping their tireless march away from the scene. Following the dirt path, I should find myself in an occupied town soon.
My walk was different. Normally, I'd pay attention to the many birds and plants of the forest. Death may be our most grandiose moment, but it can only be that big when we pay attention to the life we had before. I would always preach that to the party, though many other followers of Thanatos hated that rhetoric. "It's too focused on life," they'd say. I always thought them to be wrong. Death isn't the antithesis of life, nor is it absence of. It's the mourning of once was, at least that's what I believe. Believed, I correct myself. The colors of the forest blur into a hazy water-paint collage of greens and browns.
I found it hard to look up at any point during my walk. My head felt heavy, being carried on these burdened shoulders.
"Hey! Halt! Stop where you are now and explain yourself!" I looked up toward the source of this bellowing yell. A guard wearing half-plate stood tall with a halberd pointed at me. My vision refocused on him, and I surveyed around me. When had twelve guards surrounded me? And who do they work for?
"Uh..." I closed my eyes and cleared my throat, "My name is Novak. Novak-" I normally used the last name of Thanatos, a common choice for worshippers of a deity, "...Just Novak."
"Alright, 'Just Novak,'" The guard surrounding me tightened their formation around me, "What happened? 'Cause from what I'm seeing, you got a whole lotta blood on you, and not a lot o' wounds."
The guard blurred in my vision. What happened? I don't know. My friends of the last decade just died in front of me. The deity I dedicated my life toward had abandoned me, taking everything I had in this life. The bubbling, I could feel it. We learned a lot about grieving, the many stages of it, and the common choices of others. Never had I expected to feel them this deep. The bubbling from my core. The tightness in my chest. I stayed my tongue, but my eyes pierced the guard enough for him to adjust his grip. I closed my eyes, breathing deep, and responded, "I am an adventurer from the city of Steelkeep. My party... has died in the line of work."
The guard snickered, "Really? And the holy priest you are couldn't bring them back? Try again, 'Just Novak.'"
I could see the glint in his eyes as he stared at my holy symbol and my garb, "Thanatos was my deity. We were abiding a-"
Memories flooded into me. I could hear Halion's voice. If you ever get into it with a guard, invoke Adventurer's Policy 28c. It's a policy that makes sure you'll meet with a guildmaster, but be warned; If you don't have a good reason, you might get cut from the guild. "I invoke Adventurer's Policy 28c. Let me see a guildmaster."
The guard hesitated, staring at me. All of them did. I could see them watching the moves of the guard with a helmet on. The helmed guard's gaze never wavered, but he shifted and put his polearm away. The rest followed suit.
The helmed guard pointed at me with authority, "28c of the Adventurer's Policy: In the case of an emergency, an adventurer may inform the guildmaster of an impending danger in the nearby vicinity. Can you prove to me that this threat exists, and isn't you yourself, 'Just Novak?'"
I must have scrunched my nose or shown my irritation in some manner, as all the guards shifted their weight back to their weapons. "...An ape. The size of an adolescent dragon. It... had large horns, a bull-like back end and tail, and a long, horrid face."
"Did it control magic?" The guard asked pointedly.
"Yes. Electricity bended to it's whims," I responded bluntly. I found it hard to add any emotion. Staying numb was much easier in this moment.
The helmed guard put his weapon away and waved his hands at the guards. They responded in turn, breaking their formation around me. I kept an eye on their weapons longingly. Perhaps I should have lied.
"The creature you're describing is known as a Rajang. They're quite territorial, and once you have one pissed, you're likely to get stomped out or rammed. You're lucky you don't have a hole through you," the helmed guard took his helmet off, revealing his grey eyes and salt-and-pepper wolf cut & stubble, "The name's Gio, and you've made your way to the outskirts of Gueroekil (Goo-roh-kil). I won't be respectin' your policy 'cause no Rajang is gonna come and cause a problem here, but an encounter with one would sure explain the blood all over you, and why you couldn't revive your party. That the reason your here?" I saw the smile form on his face. It irritated me.
"I'm here to be anywhere but there," I glared back, anger lacing my tone.
"Are you unaware of Gueroekil's reputation, 'Just Novak?'" When Gio asked the question with that damn name, I alternated my hands clenching and unclenching.
"It's a city, and it's the outskirts. It's got food. It's got shelter. It's got money. All I need to know," I responded bluntly.
"Well, maybe this news could brighten your day, 'Just Novak,'" Gio responded smugly, "You've made your way to the hometown of Balatro, the Allweapon. Surely you've heard the tales?"
And that I had. Balatro, the Allweapon is an unholy relic that strains the bounds of life and death. The weapon is said to take the form most comfortable to the wielder, but those who attempt to wield it disappear. Any item that could manipulate those bounds were considered heretical in nature, thus why I avoided this city for a long time.
"Judging by that glint in your eye, I'll assume you got the gist of it. Doesn't it sound appealing?" Gio smiles more incessantly.
"...Are you suggesting I'm here to utilize such a relic and revive the dead in unholy methods?" I whisper firmly.
"Don't be such a stick in the mud," Gio waves his loose hand back and forth, "Balatro resides in a dungeon. Any relic in a dungeon is sanctified by some deity, no?"
He wasn't wrong. Dungeons were a natural phenomena stirred by the deities to weed out the weak and bless the strong. Any and all items in a dungeon are made by a deity of some kind. "Speak plainly, Gio."
"I'll keep it short and sweet; We guards have a quota of getting shithead adventurers to go to Balatro and thin out the population-" Gio spoke as a guard interrupted him.
"Captain! You aren't meant to speak the Lord's orders aloud!" A naive rookie responded.
Gio rolled his eyes, before returning his gaze to me, "I don't think Mister 'Just Novak' here is gonna tell anyone. In fact, I'd say he's more interested in the weapon than anything else. Ain't I right, 'Just Novak?'" The more he stated the name, the more I wanted to make sure he'd gum food for the rest of his life.
"Tell me about the weapon and the dungeon, or I'll be on my way."
"Alright, alright!" Gio put his hands up playfully, "The interestin' thing about this dungeon is the layout. It's just one room, but like everyone says, once you touch the weapon, you disappear. No one's ever made it back to wield the weapon. Personally, my theory is that the weapon has a dungeon in of itself, sucking you in just to put you in the dungeon. I think it's some litmus test to make sure you can wield the power of the weapon. With great power comes great responsibility, or something or the other along those lines that the nobles sell to you adventurers."
"And why should I trust anything you say? Your objective is just to get me to touch the weapon, no?" I ask.
"Everything about the damn weapon is hearsay, my friend," he downplays his statement with a smug attitude, "All I'm sayin' is: You've got friends who've got no body to revive into, probably trampled, stomped, and rammed by that Rajang, and right here is the perfect opportunity to get them back. I mean, you wandered right to the city. That's gotta be something in your holy books. Destiny or fate or somethin'. C'mon, we can at least get inside the city instead of standing on an empty trail," Gio began setting pace. The guards followed first, and I followed after.
He wasn't wrong. If death is a destined end for us all, and Thanatos himself was expecting my end, yet I'm still here; Why? Now, I'm here in front of the city holding one of Thanatos' most hated relics, all by accident. None by choice. I got lucky the wall collapsed in on the Rajang after it had rammed and killed Zaveer. I'm no fool, either. Thanatos will have followers who see me as a heretic without my granted abilities. Family of Halion, Zaveer, and Clara will all seek them out- seek ME out looking for them- and I am to tell them of their death, and their foolish cleric who got them all killed.
We passed by the entryway, and I looked up for the first time while walking, "Gio. Take me to the entrance." With a wicked smile, Gio nodded and waved for the guards to return to their normal duties. He stepped forward confidently, leading me through the winding alleys of Gueroekil. Starved infants latched onto the teats of even-hungrier mothers covered in tattered rags. The architecture showed that they made the shelters fast, not for longevity. At the center of it all, a large gazebo stood tall with a large stone face that said "BALATRO" with an Ace of Spades in the center, acting as the middle A.
"As the Lord demands, I've gotta witness you go inside the dungeon and inside Balatro before I can report a visitor. So, you comin'?" He looked back, as if testing my resolve. Without a word, I trudged behind.
I stepped onto the stone gazebo. The gazebo pulsed with a swirling red energy coming into the center. Where the red energy couldn't reach broke a blue vibrant energy. Then, the sound of stones shifting began to pervade my ears. Around the gazebo, stairs spiraling downwards opened from beneath. I followed Gio deeper below. Torches lit up as we passed each one. The sound of the heels of our boots clanked and echoed against the walls. At the very bottom was an intricate archway, detailed with spades, hearts, diamonds, and clubs. Past it, a shield with a holy symbol floated in the center. I could feel it's beckoning call, alluring me.
"Now before you go and touch the weapon and get yourself wrapped up into all sorts of whatever, could you tell me what you see?" Gio asked with genuine curiosity.
"What's it to you?" My eyes darted to meet his.
"Hm... Curiosity. I ask everyone. It's a weapon that changes form to fit it's wielder best, no? Feels like I get to know a little bit about the people I'm damning," he smiles with that smug smirk.
"It's a shield. With a broken holy sigil of Thanatos in the center," I stare at the sigil on the shield, noticing how fragmented the symbol really is.
"Ah, so you're Novak Thanatos, then, 'Just Novak?'"
"No, I'm 'Just Novak.' Thanatos... has abandoned me," I put my hand up, attempting to channel any remaining energy, but it fizzles, small sparks sputtering to the ground.
"Well, ain't that more reason to head on in?" Gio cunningly changes the direction of my depressed comment.
I stare at the weapon, the fragmentation in particular. As each moment passes, I watch it fragment more and more, but it always stays in the shape of of the holy symbol. "What is it for you?"
Gio smiles wickedly, "I don't know. I've heard tales of the shape of the weapon, but I've never held one myself. If the fables are right, it's a gun, but it's mighty fancier than people say. I've heard of blunderbuss, I've heard of flintlocks, but this thing takes the cake. Looks... efficient."
I walked forward, ignoring his answer. He snorted, leaning against the entrance and watching my every move. I stepped forward, reaching out to the shield. When I would have touched it, I felt myself elongate and extend painlessly but uncomfortably. It felt like my bones were shifting in their sockets as I wound and wound into a spiral, until eventually, everything went black.
I woke to the sight of blinding lights. In front of me was a large stair with lines of lights leading up the stairs and in various directions. Surrounding me was the sounds of machinery I didn't understand; Beeps and boops that signified pleasant or neglectful notes. I swiftly realized that I am in a gargantuan casino with many people running about from green tables to machines with a lever. What was all of this? Is this the true form of Balatro?
"bee boo bee boop!" I heard fancy notes, sounding like someone saying words but also reminiscent of the machine noises themselves. I turned around to be met by a jester with white face paint, orange paint around his eyes, his smile painted with red to look larger, and a blue neck frill with alternating red and black bells at the end of each. The rest of his garb matches his hat; He wears a red and orange jester's hat with white bells at the ends. It's hard to look at him with his... rough edges and unnatural shaping.
"Bee boo bee boop!!!" I can see the notes and hear them coming from his face, but this time, next to his face is writing that says, "Never met a jester before?"
"Oh, uh... It's a pleasure to-" I start, but I'm stopped by the nostalgic voice of Zaveer my head. When you're in a new area, don't just greet all the locals! People aren't as good as they seem. Figure out their intent before you try to make friends, Novak. "Where are we?"
"Beep boo boo bop!" Written next to him again, "The cautious one, are we? I'm Jimbo, curator of Balatro!"
"Curator?" I ask, my brow furrowing.
"Boop boo bee bop!" "You touched Balatro, yeah? This is the inner machinations of the Allweapon, that which controls life, death, and reality itself!"
"The inner machinations? So there's a point to all of... this?" I gesture generally to the casino surrounding me, the many people still spamming the lever machines nearby.
"Bee bee boop bop!" "Yessir! Balatro wields all of this power, but to truly use it, you must understand the very nature of Balatro. Thus, it's set rules and parameters on how to become it's rightful master! And it's designated me as it's curator- the rule explainer- the court jester- the local entertainment."
I stop for a moment, taking in everything around me. While people mindlessly play games with cherries and sevens, others gambling and playing cards, surely this has to be some sort of test. "What's the purpose? Of these machines, and the gambling tables."
"Boop beep beep beep!" "Well, let me explain the rules and I'm sure you'll understand exactly why these tables exist, 'Just Novak.'"
I whipped my head back to Jimbo and stared daggers at him, "How do you know my name?"
"Beep beep boo beep!" "The curator's job is to know every contestant intimately, just as he should know the rules! Trust me, I ALWAYS bet on the contestants," His face never changed expressions, hiding if he's telling the truth or not.
"...Explain the rules to me before I decide otherwise," I reply, readying to fight Jimbo if need be.
"Boop boop beep bop!" "Of course, of course!" In a moment, he disappeared, shrinking into nothingness. Then, an arrow appeared before me, pointing me up the stairs. Against my better judgment, I followed. When I made it to the end, I found Jimbo again in front of a wooden sign. The wooden sign was embedded into the wall next to a hallway of large gates, each with a different defining feature. Some were simply ornate with different colorings, including red, blue, yellow, green, and black. Other gates looked abstract, looking as if they were made of the arcane itself.
One spiraled with blacks, purples, and golds. Another looked like the cosmos themselves. In total, I counted fourteen unique gates with one large gate at the very end. Around each gate was 8 circular holes, looking like they could fit a poker chip inside perfectly. I turned my attention to the sign and read it aloud.
"'The Rules of Balatro: To gain an audience with Balatro, one must traverse each gate and collect the chips that live inside. Until you have collected the eight chips for each gate, the meeting room will remain closed.' But I don't see any chips collected yet. Are you telling me no one has completed any of these gates out of the thousands I see below?!" My eyes widen while staring at Jimbo.
"Boo boo beep bop!" "No, no, each person has their own unique amount! What you see is how many YOU have!"
"Okay... so what's behind the gates?" I ask pertinently. For the first time, the creature doesn't respond. It's smile, never fading, stares back at me creepily. I wait for a response, but it doesn't give it's usual beeps and boops. "Hello?"
"Boo boo beep beep!" "Hello!"
"Did you not hear me? What's behind those gates?" I ask again.
"Boo boo boop bop!" "The challenges of Balatro. I am not allowed to provide any insights as each contestant must play and learn about Balatro themselves, but I do root for you!"
"...Then how does it explain the gambling below? If these are the challenges, then why is barely anyone up here?"
"Beep boop boop beep!" "Only Balatro can let you in and out of this place, and time still passes while you're here! So... you'll get hungry. And we have stalls! They accept 8-bitcoin."
"8-bitcoin? Wait, wait wait wait, what?" I shake my head in confusion.
"Boop bee bee boo!" "What I can confirm is the gates are exhausting challenges, and there is food and resources behind the doors. However, some people tend to..." A blinking little arrow appeared next to the floating box of text. It blinked at me for a while until I walked forward and tapped it with my index finger. "Want to eat in their own skin."
"Wh-what?! What do you mean?!" I asked Jimbo loudly, but he stared back, not answering. I hoped he would respond. Their own skin? What lies behind those gates?! What could I possibly experience beyond those doors? After a long silence passes, Jimbo boops again.
"Boop bee bee bop!" "I can assure you that no death will come to pass you, unless you cannot get a meeting with Balatro."
"So harm will come to pass if I stay here?" I ask, my eyes narrowed.
"Beep bee boo boo!" "Well, of course! You aren't immortal, and time passes. Eventually, no matter what, you'll die. Such is the way of a mortal."
"Then..." I think for a moment, my eyes cast downward, "The only way out of here is to meet Balatro."
Firework effects matching the square style of Jimbo come from behind him, creating crunchy explosion noises. "Boop bee bee bee!" "You got that right! The only way in and out of this place is through Balatro."
I stood still for a while, and Jimbo stayed by my side. Unlike the grungy reality, this place is full of... pretty shapes and colors. I look down toward the many playing the gambling and machines. At first, I thought them fervent gamblers, but are they afraid of what lies beyond the gates? Idly, I watch people come up the stairs and some go through the gates.
Those gates are quite ornate. While the basic color ones are neat, the others don't feel like grounded gates. One shifts efferently in deep blues and mucus-like yellows, never able to separate. One collects dust with no defining features. A further door is checkered in blacks and reds. At the far ends, I see a gate with orb-like entities adorning the center, another gate is painted with various colors in seemingly no order of importance, and the three most interesting doors lie at the farthest wall; The first is a blank red door overlapping with a blue door, and where they overlap, a new door appears. The second is a door made of an electricity-like substance, constantly shifting like static. The last is a door that simply changes, changing from a white door to an ornate mahogany door to a simple fence gate, and it continues endlessly, shifting every 5 seconds.
You're not going to get anywhere if you just keep standing still! Everything is just going to change around you, yet you won't change at all! Clara's words echo in my mind as I stand blankly staring at the gates. I sigh, knowing she's right. "Alright, Jimbo. What gate do you recommend?"
"Boop bee bop bop!" "I always recommend newbies check out the Red gate! It'll be the first one on the left. Do you need me to explain all the other gates too?"
"No, no. I'd rather just start and get my feet wet. I'm sure all of them have their own unique identities, but if I can't beat the Red Gate, there's no point in learning the rest," I respond with a lack of tone. I approach the red gate. It's ornate white accenting creates diamonds, circles, and other intriguing shapes. My hand touches the cool metal handle. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and open the door.
A loud noise winding up to a very loud crescendo fills my ears alongside the bright white in my vision. Even when I blink, I can't escape the light. I feel my body melt into nothingness, my skin being peeled apart until nothing remains, and I am but a consciousness.
Who am I? What am I? Where am I?
RED DECK - WHITE STAKE - ATTEMPT 1 - ANTE 1
Huh? What does that mean? That still doesn't answer-
My eyes opened, peeling apart from each other. Whoa, that was a FANTASTIC nap! I look around, finding myself in a field. Blinking a few times, I rub my eyes, causing deep purples and oranges to swirl behind my eyes. My hands are small... Weird, I feel like they were much bigger before... No, that wouldn't make sense, I'm just an 11-year-old boy! I stare out at the pasture, seeing my family's farm in the distance. I... guess I should make my way back. Mom and Dad are probably waiting for me to help with the cows, but the grass was too nice to pass up a nap. I stand up on my legs, darting with newfound energy to the farm. I see rustling in the forest nearby, but Mom always told me that I shouldn't get too involved in the woods; She says there are dangerous animals out in the forest.
I reach my family's farm. It's a little rundown, but I always loved how the pale blue paint peeled off the wood. It's... nice. The moment my hand touches the rustic iron handle on the painted-white wooden door, a red price tag appears.
COUPON TAG ATTAINED.
What... what was that voice? Where did the red price tag go? Why are my hands so small? No, they've always been small! My head begins to pound.
An older man's voice whispers in my head, "Novak! Get a hang of yourself! Your hands aren't..." The voice trailed off. Novak? Who's Novak? I'm Seth Smith, eldest son of David Smith and Cecille Smith! And I need to help Mom and Dad out!
I head inside. The smell of animals and chicken stock fills my nose as I look at the cramped wooden farmhouse. My mom loves collecting small porcelain vases from the city, so we have a lot of different ones lying about. She says she just can't help herself, and I can't blame her. I love the pure white ones with the blue flowers all over them.
"Seth? Are you back, sweetie?" My mom's nostalgic voice rings out from the kitchen.
"Yes, mom!" I scurry over, my little boots stomping and trudging to her. I haven't had this much energy in a long time. I shake my head as I jump in front of mom, banishing these weird thoughts from my head. I've always had this much energy!
"There you are, Seth! So listen," she puts down a wet gray rag next to the water basin full of our plates and utensils, "Your dad is going on a trip to the city, and he needs your help to bring some stuff back. Do you think you can do it?"
My eyes light up thinking about the city. All of the bright lights, the mages, the knights; There are sooo many cool things about the city! My hands jitter in excitement, "Y-yeah! Of course! Where's Dad, I can start helping right away!"
My mom giggles, looking at my vibrating and stomping feet. "He's packing up the carriage now. Bring this with you, and I will see you when you get back!" She picks me up into a big hug, smooching my right cheek over and over with a large cloth-wrapped box in her right hand.
I wiggle and struggle against her hold, getting nowhere, "L-let me go, Mom!"
She laughs again, setting me down and handing me the box. When I realize I'm free, I don't hesitate; I rush out the back door and see the wooden carriage and our old horse, Gary. Gary's been with us for as long as I can remember, and he has white splotches all over him. Though, they've gotten bigger recently. Dad grabs a couple crates of produce and slides them into the back. He doesn't seem to notice me.
"Dad! Mom said that we needed this!" I rush up and hand him the small box."
"Ohoho! That we do, Seth!" His laugh is as hearty as ever, "Those'll be our rations for the trip. Now tell me, did mom tell you why we're taking the trip? And why you're comin' along?"
"Uh... no..." my forehead scrunches up.
"Well, come on up here and let me show ya," he waves his hand, beckoning me. Beck-on-ing. What does that mean?
Dad pulls out a small paper from his overalls and shows me an illustration. One looks like my dad, but without his big bushy beard. The other is a smaller human with beady eyes and a bald head.
"Who's that?" I ask innocently.
"That is your uncle, Gary. We named ol' Gary the horse here after 'im, but ya see, Uncle Gary passed away," There's an emotion I can't recognize in his eyes-- Grief. Novak, REMEMBER!-- Dad's voice chokes up a bit.
"Oh... that's bad, isn't it?" I ask my dad.
"Yes, Seth. That means he's no longer with us..." My dad's shoulders slump. I haven't seen him like this before. "But that's okay! These things happen. Y'see, Uncle Gary left us somethin' called 'inheritance,' and he left you & I something in Monapol."
"Monapol?!" My eyes light up. We're going to Monapol?! That's the biggest mage city in the entirety of the... the... whole universe!!!
"Yep. Now I never had much of an affinity with magic, but Uncle Gary had a lot of potential. He was one of 'dem Government Mages, helpin' ta use it on a lot of different..." Dad trailed off, then added a hard "ee" noise to the beginning of his last word, "issues."
My eyes were sparkling stars. I'd always hoped I could use magic, and this is the best time to see! I'm related to a mage! I could be a fire mage, or a water mage, or a wind mage or a-
"Seth. When we're in Monapol, you need to stay right by my side. No runnin' off, no nothin'. Is that understood?" Dad asked, but it sounded like a command. When I look into his eyes, I can see nothing but a brick wall staring at me.
"Yessir! I won't leave your hip!" I straighten my posture and salute, and he lightheartedly smacks my hand from my forehead.
"Then let's go see what Uncle Gary left behind, yeah?" He reaches his hand down from the side of the carriage. I reach my arm up, letting him grab on like a hook. He pulls me up and over his shoulder, onto the seat next to him. I haven't seen my own father in a long time. When I was ill, he would recite the mantras of Warding from... from... Dad's right here, what am I talking about?
Dad reached forward to gently pat Gary's (the horse's) behind. Gary gave a weird mixture of a grumble-neigh that he always does before setting off-- I call it his 'Greigh.' Unlike a lot of our previous trips on the road, Dad lurched forward, looking like a shrimp. His eyes focused on the treeline. He must be getting old and can't see as well.
The dirt caused me to bounce on the seat of the carriage. Dad would sometimes let Gary go towards a hole in the dirt just so I could jump a bit higher. I smiled and laughed. I still can't believe I get to see Monapol, AND my uncle is a GOVERNMENT MAGE!! Practically vibrating in my seat, my head spins to my dad and let go like a firehose, "So what magic did Uncle Gary use? Was he fighting in the frontlines? Did he use fire magic? What about wind magic? Was he making those cool items they use in the city?"
Dad breathed in deeply, his stomach bulging against his overalls, "Uncle Gary's magic isn't as... 'showy' as fire or wind. He used somethin' called enchantment. It was a bunch o' writin' these fancy symbols, puttin' them on an item, and then suddenly, he could make a sword turn into a flamin' sword!"
This man cares about his brother. I can tell from his eyes and the way he reminisces. He won't stop gushing about Uncle Gary, to the point where he's not paying much mind to me. This is the way a life should be remembered, like Clara and... Novak? Intense pain fills the right side of my head. My right eye instinctively shuts and my left is squinting. Ever since I woke up in the field, it's felt like there's someone watching me, trying to talk to me. And I keep hearing 'Novak.' I close my eyes as dad rambles, leaning against him on the ride to Monapol.
I woke up, lightly stirring. On the path was an intersection. I gazed up to see dad scanning each of the roads. "What's goin' on, Dad?"
He sighs, "This cross section was used a lot by bandits to steal from merchants, but the Monapol guard came through and pushed 'em out. The issue is that they just pushed 'em further down the road, and I don't recall which one they chased 'em down."
"Well, if they chased 'em away, shouldn't either road be fine? We'll just get to a guard post on one road compared to the other, right?" I asked naively.
He was silent for a moment, scratching the scruff he called a beard. "I 'spose you're right. Let's head down the straightaway then, should be much faster."
Gary the Horse started down the left path. As we turned the bend, I began to hear the voices again.
BIG BLIND SELECTED.
The forest darkened from the underbrush. The trees were a lot dense in this part. Dad kept looking around, glaring into the distance. We hit one nasty bump, and I heard a noise that was very familiar; the shot of a crossbow hitting flesh. I turned to my left, and in my dad's right eye was a crossbow bolt. My eyes widened and I looked around frantically. Older bandits came out from the trees, circling the carriage.
"Looks like the informant was right, some idiot farmer was taking the road with his shitty son. Bag the loot and the kid, and let's get out of here," A man with long golden hair holding a crossbow stated like it was matter-of-fact. He turned around and waved, and a few more bandits began surrounding me. I froze. What's happening? Is dad really dead? A sudden hand grabbed my arm and pulled me, slamming me against the wood. I cried out in pain, and then, everything began to turn grey.
The bandits froze. I was able to move my hand again, and nothing was moving in this weird grey world. From the sky, playing cards with red backs fell in front of me. Above me, I could see a glowing 0/450 with two glowing rectangles; One was blue and the other was red, though both had a white zero inside. The playing cards began floating in front of me. Beneath them, I could see HANDS: 4, DISCARDS: 4. I go to speak, but words don't come out. I go to move, but my feet are planted to this carriage. I look at the playing cards and see a jack of hearts, a 9 of hearts, a 6 of clubs & diamonds, a 5 of hearts & diamonds, a 4 of clubs, and a 3 of hearts. I mouth the words, "What am I supposed to do?!" but nothing comes out. Hesitantly, I touch the 6s and the 5s. That should be a two pair... right? The cards ascend into the sky. The numbers in the sky begin going up, and then I see the glowing 84/450 before time unfreezes.
I pull my arm out of his grab and reach into dad's farm boots. Dad always kept a small shiv in his boot. The bandit reached for me again and I stabbed it into his arm. He screamed in pain, "FUUUCK! This little bastard stabbed me! Fuck sellin' him, let's kill this fucker!"
I jumped out of the carriage, maintaining a shaky grip on my shiv as all five of the bandits began to surround me. Then, the grey returned. Is this magic? Is this... What is this place?
Just like last time, the cards fell from the sky. The 6s and 5s were gone, replaced by a Queen of Clubs, a 9 of clubs, and 7s of clubs & hearts. I... I DON'T UNDERSTAND!! I know this is poker, but I don't get it! Someone... Someone, please help me!!
Seth. My name is Novak, and right now, I need you to listen to me. I've been watching from inside of you, and I don't understand it much, but I'm here with you. I want you to choose the four clubs and throw them to the ground, do you understand?
Seth nodded, grabbing the clubs and throwing them down. The number on the DISCARDS section moved down to 3. More cards fell from the sky, providing a 10 of diamonds, a 9 of diamonds, a 4 of spades, and a 3 of diamonds. Mathematically we should be fine. Throw out all the cards that aren't hearts. Seth nodded frantically, throwing the cards to the ground.
More garbage. It looks like luck truly isn't with the hearts, but still, if I understand this right, we should do good with a flush. Questions ran through Seth's head. What's a flush? Who are you? Why was I hearing your name earlier? Who's Clara? But all of those thoughts had to wait. He grabbed the new cards that had just appeared and threw them down again. A queen of hearts flew into the hand alongside two eights and a two. Seth, play all five of the hearts!
Seth grabbed them and threw them into the sky, and time began again. This time, the numbers glowed 380/450.
Time began, and the bandits all leaped to tackle Seth. He nervously jumped forward, rolling onto his back and quickly getting back up to his feet. The five bandits were all grouped up, scrambling to grab Seth, trampling over each other in the process. Seth looked down at the small iron shiv and saw, for a moment, an etching in his head. He frantically scribbled the rune into the shiv and then threw it. The shiv left Seth's hands in a quick, straight line, piercing the heads of four of the bandits. Wh-what the hell was that?! Was that MY magic?! The last remaining bandit charged from behind the other's, rushing at Seth. I stumbled backwards, tripping over a branch as the cards returned again.
Seth, you're safe. You just need to play the Two Pair like you did earlier. Play the two aces and 8s in your hand, and I can promise your safety. Seth nodded, playing the two pair. The number that was glowing turned to 496/450, and the place lit up green instead of the grey. Time returned once again.
The bandit charged at Seth, and he tumble rolled below him; This time, he figured out how to roll onto his feet. He landed next to the corpse that had the shiv in it's face. He grabbed the shiv as the fifth bandit swung an axe down at him. Seth moved on instinct, dodging the blatant swing and stabbing the shiv into the bandit's head. As the body fell to the ground, Seth anxiously scanned every tree for another creature. Another predator.
Seth, the threat is dealt with. You are safe. I put my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat throughout my entire body. I breathed raggedly and looked around. Blood was everywhere. I dropped to my knees and began sobbing.
The brush rustled, and I stood straight back up, shiv in hand ready to throw. From the bushes, a large armored person stepped out with a flag bearing the crescent moon and three stars inside of the crescent. I couldn't see the person or eyes beneath the armor. A firm feminine voice spoke out, echoing from the armor, "You, boy. What happened here?"
"I-I-I... These bandits they... they..." I turned to look at my dad who was still pinned to the carriage by the bolt. Gary had barely reacted to anything in his old age. I began crying profusely, unable to say another word.
The armor stepped onto the scene, surveying it's entirety. "Three of these bandits have a hole clean through their head. No normal bolt or arrow could've done that."
I raised the shiv up to the armor, and they picked it up between their index and thumb, "A shiv with the speed rune on it, aye? You're lucky you had that on you when you did, little one."
I shook my head, "I... I made the rune. Mid-fight. It-it-it just came to me."
The guard went quiet, staring at the rune a bit more. They turned their gaze to me, "You wouldn't happen to be related to Gary Smith, would you?"
I nod hesitantly, "M-my dad and I were supposed to be visiting. He said he..." I stared at my father's corpse. The word echoed in my head: Dead, dead, dead.
The armor unhooked Gary the horse from the carriage and picked me up gently, placing me on his back. The armor nodded, grabbing the reigns. Walking in silence, we made our way to Monapol. Tears streamed down my face the entire ride there.
We made it to the large stone gates of the city. I didn't look at anyone or anything. I was too focused on the thoughts of dad and the scene from before. What did they want? That's when I remembered the long-haired blonde bandit. He never came back, he had only ordered them to seize the carriage. I guess he didn't think his bandits would be taken out by me... I don't think I expected to take them out, either.
"Do you know where you are, little one?" the armor asked.
"Dad said Uncle Gary worked in Monapol. So... is this..." I trailed off.
"You'd be right. And this specific place is your uncle's tower."
I looked up for the first time since passing the gates. A large stone tower that pierced the darkened orange sky before me. My eyes widened at the sight.
"My name is Rockelle Evangeline, captain of the Monapol Evocation District Guard. I've been given a very specific set of instructions to carry out, at the request of your uncle," The armor spoke clearly. They unfurled a small piece of paper, taking out a pen to scratch out some instructions. I try to peer and look at the paper, but the armor turns to block my sight.
"Following his final wishes, it seems this tower was meant to belong to your father. However, in light of the recent incident, it would fall to his eldest son, Seth Smith. Would you happen to be Seth?" it asked, their tone kind.
"I am Seth, yes," I respond nervously.
Rockelle hands me a key, and pats me on the back, "You can head inside. I'm going to send some more of our guard over to talk with you. I need to report what happened to your dad, okay? Then, I'll be back. For now, you go and rest up in your tower, okay?" They spoke with that tone most adults do talking to a kid. For some reason, it bothered me this time.
Without a word, she headed off around the paved corner. This tower is... lavish, and the streets are too. Compared to the farm, this place had everything. People were bustling, the sound of cool stone hitting your shoes beneath you filled the entirety of the city. The roads were made of limestone, making it easier for carriages to traverse. My eyes would light up, and then dim back down. It was hard to be happy when all I could think about was dad.
I walk up to the tower and head inside. The heavy wooden door creaked as I entered. The entrance opened to a hallway with doors on the left and right. Straight ahead was an open room with a spiraling staircase ascending upwards. I opened the door on the left and found a massive bookshelf lining the outer wall with tables scattered here and there. On the right was a lot of glass bottles and fancy machines that seemed to spiral into the bottles. Some were like cones, others were like spheres. I couldn't believe the different shapes and sizes of bottles. It felt like there was one for each and every want and need.
...But I was tired. While everything was neat, I felt like I needed to sleep. My body was getting heavier and heavier by the second. I walked up the stairs and found five more floors, frantically scanning for any bedroom. I made it to the very top of the tower and found the bedroom. A large eyeglass stared out the window and straight into the sky. Books were scattered everywhere alongside swords and halberds and spears. Each one had different runes engraved all over them. Some were on the handle, others were on the spearheads. I trudged over to the bed to lay down, but found items scattered across the bed.
COUPON TAG USED
Four items laid on the bed; The first was a stone that looked like a ball of fire. When I picked it up, it began hovering over my right shoulder. Another was a scroll that said, "The Art of Runic Enchantment." When I read it, I got an understanding of the speed rune I used earlier. While I used it to throw, I could have used it to speed up a quick jab. Not... that it matters. The third item was a steel necklace with an enchantment I didn't comprehend. The last was a scimitar with runes I didn't fully get either.
JESTER: SUPERNOVA UNLOCKED
JESTER: SWASHBUCKLER UNLOCKED
PAIR: UPGRADED TO LEVEL 2
JACK OF DIAMONDS: STEEL ADDED TO DECK
I moved the items to the side and jumped face-first onto the bed. The material was unlike anything else. It was very soft and cushiony, like falling onto a cloud. Slowly but surely, I lost the fight to keep my eyes open.
I was right. Seth can't fully hear me. He'll only hear me properly during those 'blinds.' If I try to push anything, he'll get a headache or a physical ailment. Then, the trials of Balatro are about guiding a child? No, there's more to this. Seth's just a child, and admittedly, he would have died if not for this power. When he played hands, he would go back and fight. The flush allowed him to tap into something deeper. I'll have to keep watching his actions and what happens until I get a better grasp on what is happening here, but I'm worried. I don't know if Seth can see it, but it's coming, and I don't know if he's ready. Above Seth's head floats a massive symbol looking like a T with it's top-wings bent slightly upwards. Below it, Novak reads,
BOSS BLIND: THE HOOK
To be continued...