A young man jerks his body forward as if splashed with cold water. His chest heaves up and down frantically; breathing heavily. His eyes widened, looking straight to the stone floor, before lifting his gaze and found himself at the side of the road. 

  He checked his attire. Tattered t-shirt and jeans with some holes occasionally here and there. A shopping bag in his hand filled with hefty dry food and supplies that can last for a few days if consumed sparsely. 

  A tear droplet rolled down his cheek, hanging on his chin as he hugs himself. He grips onto his arms, shaking with a smile on his face, "I'm back, back… I can't believe it, this is 10 years before that day. "

  "Eh?" Styril realised as he squeezed his hand, but only one could be felt. He did it a couple of times before looking at his right shoulder— his right arm was nowhere to be seen. Only a clean surface skin left at where his right arm used to be. 

  "The wounds from before have healed, but the pieces of organs that I lost didn't return … my right arm and a piece of my stomach, " He poked his belly and sighed. Feeling his stomach gotten smaller ever since that 'day' with the self-proclaimed goddess. 

  Shaking his head, he stood up and dusted himself off. Taking a few long stretches while gaining some weird looks from several passersby. Only then he remembered something, he was broke. No money on his body or bag whatsoever as he tried to find some.

  He was a homeless man due to a home problem. His smile drops upon remembering a few familiar faces. The undisclosed reasons that he ended up in the streets, as he said, "It's better here than there. I couldn't endure that place anymore." 

  "…I couldn't care less anymore. Other matters are more important in hand, " Styril mutters, his face slightly down and darkened. He spits on the ground and twists his cheeks, before picking up the few cents in his donation plastic cup and heads off. 

  Walking through the streets at the current time was reminiscent. The mouth-watering smell of food from the numerous stalls throughout the street. The route bustled with chatters regarding daily news and gossip. Price bargaining could be seen as friendly while some fistfights.

"Just a few cents lower? Come on, we're buddies, ain't we?"

"2 plus 2 is four, and more than that would be my 5th 'No'. This is the lowest price I can give." 

  Modern brick buildings mix with well-aged homes, like fine wine, placed neatly alongside new stocks. Some new, some old with each one of it personalised to the owners' taste, a garden of mess— fun mess. 

  Taller buildings could be seen from far, settled at the centre of the city. The sight of the blue sky pierced by a few skyscrapers flickered like light. Between an image of a massacred city, with smokes filling up the night skies and a pair of crimson eyes dawning over him. 

  He took a step back, holding his head with his arms. As if his heart skipped a beat by the sudden change of image in his gaze. Quick sweats dripped from his forehead, as he wiped them off with the collar of his shirt, "It's fine Styril, she's not here anymore… keep it together, you little fiddle stick."

  The sudden headache was not pleasant. He winces before shifting his attention somewhere else— a newspaper stall. 

  "Good morning lady, can I have one newspaper, please?" Styril approached the stall, bearing a small smile to hide the mental pain. 

  He knew he was back to 10 years ago, just by looking at his current state. But he is oblivious of the exact date, so a small dose of daily sources can help him pinpoint important events including any chances he could get. As he was not planning to take the same decision as before. 

  "Ah, a customer-!" The young lady, the stall keeper, slipped on her feet, and the playing cards in her hands scattered everywhere. 

  Styril's smile turned weary, as the stall keeper quickly stood up and tried to gather back her playing cards. Curious, he picked up one of them, "This is… a rather expensive brand of playing cards, made for 'Cardistry'. Are you interested in such a thing? To whom I owe the name?"

  "No need to talk formally, and yes, I'm interested in Cardistry. I've been interested in this trickery business lately. Oh and, the name is Venia Loveless, an upcoming private detective! But I need to raise some money first for the license…" The stall keeper introduced herself. Her voice had quite an allure in it with a pinch of haughtiness, a natural talent it seems to Styril. If nurtured, she could sway others easily. While that, he felt slightly familiar with her. 

  "Venia… cardistry, private detective, that sounds-," a sudden thought struck his mind. Two words, 'Magician Detective' cause him to frown as he rubs his chin. She was once his enemy who he killed in the previous timeline. While the current one standing in front of him is the version of her long before that happened.

  "Sir, are you alright? Is there anything wrong?" 

  Styril gazes at her who was questioning him. His eyes narrowed for a moment, still puzzled by the stark differences in the behaviour between both versions of her. This timeline version of her is tamer than the previous. 

  "Nothing in particular. Venia, I'm Styril, the one-arm man literally," He chuckled, his lips quickly curled back to a smile as he pointed at his armless right shoulder. "But rather, I find my day brightened ever since now."

  Venia giggled, before focussing back on collecting her cards. Some of it spread to the road as well, which gave her a hard time, "I would like to talk more sir but, let me gather these cards first." 

  She crouched down and tried to reach for a card hidden far under the back counter. Exposing the roundness which caught Styril's eyes for a moment, but he shook it off immediately. 

  Her behaviour is indifferent towards him, despite him looking like a hobo with long hair and tattered white clothes. As if he looks similar to a particularly known god but poor. 

  Besides that, Styril is experienced in eyeing little details from facial expressions, and he saw no negative reaction from Venia at their first encounter here. While most would have some sort of tiny flinch or twitch on their muscular movements at their eyes or cheeks when they met a homeless man such as him. 

  His once unwavering gaze slightly softened after realising the fact he was being treated equally by someone he once fought against. Ironic, when compared to before.

  "Here, let me help. It'll be much faster." 

  "How thoughtful of you but, you don't have to, Sir. It's my problem so no need to waste your energy on me-" she commented softly, as she slowly stood up and waved her hands. 

  "I take that as a yes," Styril opens his palm towards her. His gaze became vibrant as he slightly perks his lips; whistling. A soft tune burdened with waves of emotions, like a leaf floating through a raging storm under the dark sky. 

  The rest of the fallen cards shook, as Styril continues to whistle. The cards moved one by one, each one of them float and stack upon each other on his palm. Venia's eyes widened at the surreal sight. Cardistry surely could not be taken at the level shown by Styril. The melody, akin to a soft wind strung with the strings of a broken mythical instrument— sweet to the ear, hurts by the heart. 

  It was only for a few seconds, but worth like eternity. She stood the same as before without moving an inch. Mouth agape, as her gaze fixed on the deck of cards on his palm. 

  "Here, it's much faster this way," Styril pushed his only hand forward. 

  Only by then, Venia snapped out of the trance. She took the deck and inspected it closely before turning her gaze back to him, "Are you a User? Like the people that go guns blazing with fantasy power?"

  "No, just someone who has ways with bits of sleight of hands, " he answered, topped with a stoic smile of deception. 

  "I could give you a small handy book about it, in exchange for a newspaper," Styril added to prevent her from questioning further, as he fixes his collar. 

  Venia crossed her arms with one eyebrow frowning, "Convince me more if you may. Action speaks louder, is it not?. "

  "Believe me, it'll be worth your time. For example, " He pointed at the luxurious deck of cards on her hand, specifically at one position of the cards. "With the tip of my finger, the ace of diamonds disappeared. "

  The stall keeper worked her fingers on the deck and the card was nowhere to be found. She gazes back at the homeless man, muttered but stuttered— words stuck in her throat. 

  "Sleight of hands is simply a part of misdirection. Otherwise, it is still the same, " Two of his fingers intertwined as a card popped up in between, revealing the missing card. Without trained eyes, the card may seem to appear out of thin air. 

  Venia slipped her fingers into a small section of her stall and pulled out a newspaper, "The book for a newspaper, you have a deal. " 

  With smiling eyes, Styril gave the book along with the card and received the sweet daily source. He straightened it and flipped it opened like a book with one hand. The folds at the middle of the newspaper supporting the sloppy structure for a proper read. While the stall keeper wasted no time and opened the book with gleeful hands. 

  "1st January, it's today around this hour… where it all starts. This is bad timing, " He mutters as his eyes scan through the information on each page. Taking mental notes of each one event including the tiniest detail which could work in his favour. But his main concern was the main headline 'The Elven Empress's visit'. 

  He glanced from the edge of his eyes and saw Venia peeping his reaction to the news from the sides of her book. Perhaps she found interest in him who she perceives as mysterious, or rather suspicious? Regardless of the reason— this is a golden chance. So, he started to walk away from the stall a bit. 

  "Sir- Uhm. Styril, when will we meet again? If so, it's nice to have a company to practice sleight of hands with. "

  "It would be delightful, but unfortunately, time isn't kind to me like always. So I have to refuse your good offer— but, how about my offer?"

  "Your offer?" She said, sounding doubtful with a frown, but yet again showing interest due to the show he displayed to her. 

  "Power, Venia. I may not be able to offer you wealth but, giving power is the least of what I can do. I may appear to be homeless and weak but it is merely a deception, " His smile unwavering, yet the vibe of it took a twist. His words laced with honey, tempting like a flower attracting a bee. 

  "I… don't believe you, I just met you and all, " She answered, her fingers slightly fidgeting and her gaze rolling away.

  Styril sighed, as he folded his newspaper and pocket it, "It was as expected, but fortunately, you didn't refuse. I'll give you time until afternoon later when the sun is about to set. Wait at the alley behind the stall if you agree. For now, enjoy the 2nd show. "

  Venia's hand's fidgets once more as she clasps them together on the counter. Looking down, her eyes lingering at the man's back, who was oozing with mystery. His presence left a strong impression on her. 

  "I know you, Venia. You're an ambitious lady with endless potential, but you'll end up like the ace of diamonds— the weakest among the strong... if without a proper mentor. "