The Legendary Fool

Tom tried to assuage his frayed nerves as he and Serawin were waived past a queue of people dressed in far humbled fabrics compared to the if not opulent, then neat, well-fitting clothes he had seen the majority of the Noble District’s populace adorn. Their rumpled and poor-fitting clothes spoke of a life of hand-me-downs and whilst not quite indicative of poverty, most likely, a simpler, humbler lifestyle. The smudges of grime and soot running across a few people’s clothes immediately contextualised the scenario for him— magic or not, someone still had to do the odd jobs in the Noble District— cleaning chimneys, maintaining dressing booths, polishing old equipment… someone still had to do it. Ironically enough, from what he’d seen of [Deck Cards] so far, none of them seemed to be suited for the more delicate tasks.

The official incharge of herding the throng of people headed for the Nameless District completely ignored Tom after seeing the Royal Knight accompanying him, seemingly content to continue on with his duties with the nonchalance of a bureaucratic professional. Tom observed him for a few seconds longer, watching as he pressed a [Deck Card] against one of the worker’s open palm, before nodding and walking over towards the next in line.

His attention was swept away by a large, overbearing field tent that dominated the entrance to the Nameless District, its colours matching the Royal Knights’ livery— the cerulean blue and pearl white tent sparkled with a dignified brilliance that seemed to be denied to the ones passing through it. Though the official at the entrance hadn’t said or done anything that should have given him that impression, the condescension in his expression was quite easily readable for someone like Tom— who had not only experienced a myriad of his own emotions since stepping into Artezia, but also the true emotions of another living, breathing person without any falsehoods or misinterpretations.

Serawin was the first to step inside the tent, holding onto the parted fabric long enough for him to slip in without brushing against it.

‘Well, that’s unique.’

Tom hadn’t quite pondered upon the need for a three-storey building sized tent up until that point— which would be a rather quaint observation to be fixated on in a world full of cards that defied the laws of physics on a regular basis. Its purpose turned out to be as rudimentary as it was effective— Tom had no idea that an entire stone gateway was concealed within the tent, not to mention the greater wall it was part of; the perimeter separating the true heart of the academic city from the Nameless District.

He was still confused how he’d missed the wall, but then again the winding alleyways he had to traverse to reach the outer fringes of Renovia hadn’t really given him an opportunity for a bird’s eye view—- not to mention the throng of people waiting for passage to the other side crowding the area.

‘If you don’t want to fix the problems in your society, hide them behind a gaudy tent. How noble.’

Tom felt a burst of uneasiness well up in his heart as his gaze fell upon the Royal Knight that stood before the gate, eyeing the sword planted a quarter of the way into the soft earth that the swordsman was resting his hands upon. Despite his clearly relaxed posture, the auburn-haired knight exuded a quiet strength and self-assuredness that made him more intimidating than Serawin, who seemed to be more interested in masking his strength instead.

He could not help but eye the two card gauntlets the Royal Knight had equipped, causing Tom to wonder if one was a decoy or both served different purposes than the gauntlets he’d encountered up until now.

“What have you brought me this time?” The Royal Knight’s tone was far more soft-spoken compared to what Tom had envisioned, especially contrary to the visual impression he gave off—-the curls of his auburn hair rising and falling to create a wild, untamed landscape, a long, deep scar falling from his chin to below the neckline, covered up by the Royal Knight’s livery and the two orbs of emerald green that shone with intensity gave the impression of a fearsome warrior, even without his rippling physique that easily surpassed Serawin’s.

Tom had not missed the flicker of irritation contained in his words, making him wince a little. Hopefully that would not cause him any issues.

Serawin just rolled his eyes at that statement, retorting, “Nothing you need to concern your ugly mug about, Nvein.”

“Oh?” Nvein replied as he slowly walked over towards Serawin, his every step echoing his powerful presence, until the two Royal Guards were standing face to face. Except Serawin was dwarfed by the burly Royal Guard, only reaching his chest height.

Tom almost mistook their next movements as an attack, when in reality they both extended their hands in unison, locking their hands in an arm-wrestling hold.

He watched as the veins on Serawin’s forehead began to bulge as he tried to push back against the overwhelming force threatening to knock him off his feet. Face reddened, Serawin’s feet began to sink into the soil while Nvein remained on the spot he’d started the impromptu contest with, entirely unmoved.

“You’ve gotten stronger again, you physical freak,” Serawin gasped out a reply with the limited strength he had to spare, unrelenting even though he was clearly outmatched.

“Doesn’t count for much if I can’t defeat you in a real duel, you crotchety old geezer,” Nvein countered, giving a final push before disengaging.

Then, the two Royal Knights began to boisterously laugh.

Tom sighed in relief— quite worried for a moment there that something had gone awry in their relationship.

‘For once, things didn’t go horribly wrong. Wonder if it’ll last.’

“Haven’t seen you in half a cycle and you show up on my doorstep with a lost mouse. Anyone else would be irritated,” Nvein remarked after the laughter died down, clearly not irritated in the slightest.

“Anyone else would,” Serawin conceded.

“So, what’s the story with this one?”

“Didn’t really press the kid too hard, didn’t have the heart to after the dishevelled state I found him in. I reckon he just got sick of the Nameless District and decided to hop over for a change in scenery,” Serawin explained.

“Well…,” Nvein’s tone turned thoughtful as he turned his gaze to Tom.

The chilly sternness in his gaze took Tom by surprise, every iota of friendliness that had been there seconds ago wiped without a trace. Even while knowing that Nvein was a trained Royal Knight, Tom had dropped his guard a little after seeing the friendly banter between the two guards.

“Look kid, I’m personally not fond of throwing innocent people in the brig. Especially not children who didn’t know any better. The first time you make this mistake— well, it’s a mistake. You were young, stupid, didn’t know any better and that’s fine. But if you repeat the same actions again, well then son, it stops being a mistake and becomes a crime. And I…,” Nvein looked Tom dead in the eyes as he slowly enunciated each word, “....hold no sympathy for criminals.”

“I-I understand,” Tom croaked out, doing his part by playing a terrified teenager. Which wasn’t a very challenging prospect considering he was actually scared of the six foot five musclebound swordsman.

Nodding at his response, Nvein was clearly satisfied after scaring the living daylights out of Tom.

“You know the drill, Serawin. If he passes the inspection, I’ll send him through to the other side without recording his name in the log. Though if he fails, even if it is for a minor infraction….”

“Yeah, I know,” Serawin replied. “I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that goes against the precepts of the Royal Knights and if it comes to that— I will be the first to act.’

“Very well. Step forward, lad. And don’t you dare try anything funny.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom replied with promptness, though inwardly he was praying to whatever deity that was listening.

‘Please, let this work.’

Nvein withdrew a card from a deck holder clipped to his waist, withdrawing a [Deck Card] that had a single question mark emblazoned in the centre with a dull grey colouring that inspired intrigue in his heart merely by looking at it. If Tom had to guess, the deck holder clipped to Nvain’s waist was only for non-combat cards otherwise there was simply no reason to use them when he had access to the superior card gauntlets.

“Extend your palms.”

Tom did as he was asked.

Nvain pressed the card against his palms.

[Name: Constantine Velore

Age: 18

Soul Card: The Flame (Level 6)]

“Constantine Velore? That’s a name I’ve never heard before,” Nvain casually remarked, though his tone sounded mostly unimpressed.

‘It worked!’

[Passive Shroud] not only made him invulnerable to all forms of scrying, but as long as it was pertaining to the identity of his [Soul Card], Tom could make his status screen display whatever card he wanted up until the [Rare] tier. He had chosen [The Flame] card for its low rarity yet powerful deterrent ability— not to mention that he actually had the [Deck Card] to validate his claims.

Changing his name— that had been the reward for levelling shroud to Level 2. Though he was free to change any statistic he wanted, he had chosen what he thought to be the most important one.

“Hmmm,” Nvain reached his hand out, rummaging inside the void that comprised his inventory before pulling out a thick, weathered tome that its ancient spine seemed like it was barely holding together.

Tom watched with intrigue as Nvain placed the ‘identification’ card on the first page of the tome before slamming it shut.

He flinched when the tome, with no effort on Nvain’s part, flung open and began to rapidly flit through blank pages of its own accord. Tom found the gentle fluttering sound extremely relaxing— or would have, atleast, if it wasn’t for how creepy it was to see a book thumb through its own pages.

It stopped a little past the half-way mark and Tom watched as words scrawled over in black ink began to appear on the double-page spread. Nvein jerked the book a little closer to his own height before Tom could make out anything useful, much to his dismay.

“Let’s see here,” Nvein mused, his eyes scanning the tome for relevant information.

“There is a Constantine here who is wanted for misdemeanour against the Versaria Family,” Nvein muttered, causing Tom’s heart to lurch a little. “But that was over two hundred cycles ago. You’re good to go kid.”

Serawin cracked into another laugh, while Nvein just gave him a pat on his shoulder —- a pat that felt like a blow from a sledgehammer at that.

After offering his final thanks to Serawin, Tom intently watched as the doors to the Nameless District slowly swung open, a loud creaking sound grating away at his ears as the path to freedom revealed itself.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me.’