DataNerdX

Hi, everyone! Thank you for reading. I know this story’s style does not fit the typical genres of this site. But as my first book, I want to write the story that’s in my head. Writing is hard, and I need all the motivation I can get.

Plus, there are already so many good novels here that cater to the core audience. I fear that my attempts to write to the market will fail in comparison.

Renalia sprang awake from the small pile of straw that served as her bed, eager to start the day.

“Happy Deck Day, baby!” her Mama said, opening her arms wide.

Renalia hopped over on her tiptoes and jumped into her mother’s hug.

“Oof,” Mama said, “I can’t believe you’re ten already. You’ve grown into a fine young lady.”

“Good morning, Mama.” Renalia wished she could stay in her mother’s warm embrace till breakfast was ready, but she had her duties.

“Happy Deck Day, Renya!” her father exclaimed. He knelt next to the fire pit, adding more lignite, the dry and compressed coal they produced from their land.

“Good morning, Papa,” Renalia said as she hugged him from behind. She squealed with delight as Papa suddenly stood up, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he trotted around the hut.

“Oof,” Papa said, “you’re getting too heavy for me!”

“Lies!” She reached under his armpits to deliver punishment.

Mama laughed as Papa fake-bucked from being tickled, jumping high enough to almost reach the ceiling. “Renalia, can you help with wrapping lunch once Papa-horse collapses? These old eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“Okay!” she acknowledged in between whoops.

A short while after, Renalia took over lunch assembly at the table, barely illuminated by the soft glow of the fire pit. She frowned at the four piles of barley sitting on beds of reed leaves, noticing they each had three pieces of cured fish. Mama had given her an extra portion for her birthday. Three whole pieces! Her stomach almost leapt at the sight, but she suppressed it with practiced ease.

She glanced at her parents out of the corner of her eyes. Papa was making sure the pot of oatmeal sat correctly over the coals, while Mama poured water into the pot. She quickly snatched the fingernail-sized filets from the smallest heap and placed them with the bigger ones. And before they could notice, she wrapped each of them in reed leaves.

She was small for her age. She didn’t need to eat as much. Just the other day, she had to tilt her head up to talk to Lil’ Jenny. Lil’ Jenny, who was not even nine, more than a year away from getting Decked!

Besides, she should celebrate and honor her parents on her birthday, not herself. Mama did the difficult part of giving birth to her ten years ago. And Papa had run all the way to the Manor to fetch Healer Rensto at Myfanwy’s request.

“I’ll get more water,” Papa announced.

“No, I’ll do it,” Renalia said. “I need to get stronger.” This was the last day of the plan she had put together two years ago.

Back then, she had asked Chief Cian, a village elder, how she could get a strength card like her Papa. He had said the Cards reflected the heart’s desire–that she should do the actions requiring strength. And all the while, she should wish that she could do more with her body.

Father Cornelius had disagreed, saying that God rewarded the good and worthy with what they deserved. The two had continued debating, using big words that Renalia didn’t understand. But she had gotten what she wanted, seeing no reason not to put both methods into practice.

Of course, she had also asked Granny. But as was often the case with Granny, she was not sure she understood. Granny had said: “Bah! Not a doing. Not a deserving. Card is what girl is. What girl was.”

Outside, the sun had yet to fully chase the moon away with its radiance. The soft glow of the moon in the west still outshone the general brightening in the east. But even together, they barely lit the path to the brook.

Nevertheless, Renalia strolled with certainty, having made this predawn trip numerous times before. With each step, she spread her toes, sinking them into the dew-coated soil and enjoying the caress of the soft earth.

Some of the village women were also out and about at this time of day. Some milked cows. Some fetched water. Some picked berries. They all performed various chores before husbands and babies demanded their attention. Renalia had first joined their number a couple of years ago when Mama became bedridden after her last miscarriage. And she had continued ever since.

She stretched a little after filling up the bucket with water, enjoying the sound of the bubbling brook and the squelch of mud under her feet. Straddling the bucket, she placed her forearms on the inside of her legs and grabbed the handles with both hands. She leaned back, slowly lifting the bucket then waddled back home with the bucket underneath her forearms. Good thing neither Shim nor Ullock were around to see her stumble about.

When she got back to the hut, Papa picked up the bucket with one hand and her with the other, his arms around her stomach like she was a sack of oats.

“Ah!” screamed Mama. “Did you purposely bury your feet in the mud?” She hurried over and pointed a forefinger at Renalia’s dangling feet. As she mentally activated her [Cleanse] skill, the accumulated mud flew off, plopping down outside the doorway . “Why didn’t you wear your shoes?”

“The mud feels nice,” Renalia replied sheepishly. “Besides, you can clean my feet better than the shoes.” She stretched her toes farther apart while Mama sighed and cleansed again. She stayed silent on the third reason. So when Papa placed her down, she shuffled her feet away from the shoes, not wanting them to compare the two easily.

While they ate the buttered oatmeal, Mama said, “Take one of the barley bundles to Granny at lunch time, okay?”

“But I wanted to be with you guys when I get my Deck.”

Papa explained, “Your Mama and I talked about it last night. We know you’re a patient girl–”

“But we also know you’ve been waiting to get Decked for a long time,” Mama continued.

“And who knows when the new baron will come around to take a look at all the new Decks this year.”

“So you can ask Granny if she’ll translate your Deck.”

“We believe you can trust Granny with your cards. She’s been a blessing to this family.”

Renalia jumped up and went around the table to hug her parents, rewarding them for the suggestion. She saw the wisdom of asking Granny, even though the thought of sharing her Deck made her cringe.

Papa raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t going to experiment secretly with your cards, were you?”

“I will tell no lies,” Renalia proclaimed with her best innocent expression.

Mama chuckled, but then gave her a serious stare. “You know the rules, young lady. You know why they exist.”

She did. Everybody knew what happened to the McGinness family. But she wasn’t stupid like that kid, Leo McGinness. Really, who played with a [Small Flame] card next to a stockpile of coals?

She had a good plan though.

Granny had been teaching her to read, so she should be able to reason some of it out. And she knew the icons for the more dangerous cards, like fire, lightning, or cutting, so she could avoid those. And with some careful experimentation, she was certain she could figure everything out.

But, yeah, asking Granny was a better plan. Safer. She just needed to work up the courage to share.

After breakfast, they worked on their small plot of land. Papa swung at the earth with a hoe, prying away strips of peat, the soil of decayed plant matter. Sweat ran in rivulets down the contours defined by his muscles. Against his tea-colored skin, it was reminiscent of brooks, glistening in the sun.

Renalia took the chunks of peat and stacked them vertically against each other, forming cones. This allowed nature to evaporate and slowly drain moisture from them.

Mama tended to their subsistence garden of oats and barley. They worked with a rhythm, interrupted occasionally by laughter or song.

Renalia bounced on her feet as Mama dumped the packets of barley and fish from the steamer onto a plate. “Wait till they–”

“Ow!” Renalia exclaimed, as the steam from the pouches stung her fingers.

“Renya, what did I just say?”

“It’s fine,” she said, as she lifted the bottom of her shirt to form a bowl and scooped the two smaller bundles in, only to receive a brief, sharp stinging on her fingers. Mama rolled her eyes as Renalia kissed her on the cheek and bounded out the door.

Renalia switched to holding the portable lunch bundles in her hands once they cooled enough, somewhat embarrassed by the puzzled stares she had been receiving from the villagers in the fields.

All of a sudden, she felt a tingling sensation.

It began somewhere in her navel and spread outwards: a twitching sensation, like an involuntary spasm of the muscles but not wholly physical. It came from somewhere deep within her, which she instinctively knew was her Core. The twitching slowed but grew more forceful. It culminated in a ripping sensation, not painful but not pleasant either.

A card materialized in her mind’s eye. It had a ten-pointed star burst symbol on its back, which she had seen on the cover of Father Cornelius’ Bible. But it had a weird carrot color instead of the color grades that everyone was familiar with.

She mentally flipped her Core Card, examining the text and icons. “D-e– card”. She couldn’t sound out the letters of the first word to form anything recognizable. The icon was also unfamiliar: a rectangle with a line connecting the upper left and bottom right corners.

Her core pulsed, spitting out the first of her skill cards. The back of the card showed the expected white color of a common card. The two words on the front side were again unfamiliar, as was the black circle of an icon. She was slightly disappointed in not finding the curled arm symbol for Strength, but she had nine more cards to go through.

The second card appeared next to the first one, forming a row beneath her core card. She flipped the new common card over and noticed the same words and icon as the card next to it. 

As the third card manifested, she hesitantly flipped it over, her eagerness replaced by dread. Her hands unconsciously squeezed the pouches of barley as she looked.

It was the same.

So was the next.

And the next.

Her core… It was broken.

The growing dismay dissipated as the eighth card appeared: a green uncommon!

Her knees wobbled as she mentally turned it over, hoping with all her being to see something different. It was different, but still unfamiliar. The symbol was two red bars, one vertical and one horizontal, crossing each other in the middle. Renalia thought she might have seen it before, but before she could search through her memories, the next card appeared.

Another uncommon! In her lifetime, nobody from the village had gotten uncommon cards as part of their first Ten. And she had two. She scrutinized the text, but could not puzzle it out. And the icon was missing. What is going on?

Her last card–

“Oh look, I think little Renny got her Deck. Y’all think she’s squinting ’cause it’s baby-sized like she is?”

Her face flushed and she spun, recognizing Shim’s voice. She had been standing in the middle of the path, one foot still in front of the other, frozen in mid step. Shim and some of the boys her age all sat beneath a tree, taking their lunch break. He wore the same sneer he always did when talking to her.

“No! My cards are beautiful, like…” She caught herself before bragging about the color grade. They already had enough taunts to sling at her. She didn’t need to energize them any further with jealousy.

“Ha,” Ullock mocked. Even while seated, he was a full head taller than the others. He pointed to his head. “Seems like she’s a couple of cards short of a full Deck.”

“Yeah,” Shim said. “She couldn’t afford to buy more cards.” The group of boys laughed with him as she turned and stomped off, her hands clamping down on her lunch.

She seethed with righteous anger. She hated the boys. It wasn’t her fault she had been born a girl. Despite pushing herself to do as much as any other boy, they never accepted her. The boys had all known each other growing up, with older siblings or cousins who had worked or played together.

Her anger faded as the ground became softer. It had more moisture. Two years ago, Granny had situated herself just past the edge of the village, close to the bog. And even though the land was unused, it still belonged to the Manor.

Some guy from the Manor had shown up with a scroll and started reading rules, like no hunting, no growing crops, and so on. Granny had given him the stink eye, and he had sputtered to a stop. And after an awkward silence, he had actually apologized to her before fleeing back to the Manor.

With Myfanwy’s endorsement, people had started coming to Granny for herbal remedies. And in return, they supplied her with food or helped with labor. Some villagers, including Papa, had built a lean-to for Granny. The three-sided wooden structure had a thatched roof and opened out onto the bog. 

Renalia walked around it and found Granny sitting on a rock, with a far-off look and an open book in her lap. Where does she get all these books? Renalia wondered.

She waited for Granny to notice her before she said, “Hello, Granny.”

“Ah, little Renya. Good noon-ing.”

“I bought some steamed barley, what you called zongzi, for lunch.” She handed the one with fish to Granny. But she froze as she saw that the triangular shape of the wrapped lunch had turned into a lump with some barley peeking out between the leaves. “Ah, sorry, I held it too hard.”

“Ha, no problem. No judging book by cover. Yes? Inside mattering more.”

“Right. Granny, guess what? Today’s my Deck Day.”

“Ah! Happy Deck Day! Very exciting.”

“Thank you. I was wondering if you could translate my cards for me.” On the trek over, she had worked up the courage for this moment. She had no problems breaking rules, but taboos were much harder.

“Course, course. Granny happy helping.”

“Um, how do I show you my Deck?”

“Concentrating on Deck. Seeing with eyes.” 

Renalia focused on her Deck, trying to see it, not just in her mind, but with her eyes.

Granny's face changed from puzzlement to sadness to joy as she looked at the cards. It roughly tracked Renalia’s thoughts from earlier.

“Hm. Core Card: [Delete Card].”

“What?! Why would I ever want to delete cards?”

“Yes, very strange.” Strange did not cover Renalia’s bewilderment. She had waited so long for these cards. And her Core wanted to delete them?

After Deck Day, each person would only receive a Card on their birthday. And on their twentieth birthday and beyond, they had the option to replace an existing Card with the new one. She had never heard of the need to delete cards. And why would she want to?

“And why is it orange? What does that mean?”

“Not knowing,” Granny replied and shook her head. “Very strange. Very interesting.”

“So I have a broken card?” Her voice rose in a staccato.

Granny deflated audibly while shaking her head. “Not knowing. People always having Decks. But many secrets existing.” She muttered to herself, “Not knowing. Very interesting. Need researching.”

Renalia had prepared herself for possibly not getting the strength card she so desperately wanted. But never in her imaginings had she prepared for a completely useless card. She did not know what to think.

“What about the next card?”

With drooped eyebrows, Granny  hesitated before saying, “Seven cards. [Resist Hunger].”

Completely useless. Why, God? Why do you hate me so? Renalia whimpered and shut her eyes. But in the darkness, the seven cards taunted her in her mind’s eye, shining with the color of bleached bone.

***

It has been said that one never forgets their first Ten. Understandable, as people typically only see thirty-five cards before they reach the end of their lives. Me? I have seen hundreds–maybe even thousands. I had lost track, having stopped counting so long ago.

Even so, I see my first set with complete clarity. Each card traced the scars on my soul, mapping out life’s cruel carvings year after year.

My students have often asked me whether suffering made me who I am. I have always answered in the negative, knowing the passion of the young in their academic pursuits. Knowing more, the warmongering cruelties of man in their breeding of better weapons.

But in the spirit of honesty, I will give my true answer here. I do not know. Moreso, I do not intend to find out. Perhaps that is a wisdom in and of itself.

DataNerdX

FYI, I’ll be using the footnotes section to chat about my writer’s journey. You don’t have to read it, though. It doesn’t affect the story.

One of the arduous challenges for a beginner writer is to balance show and tell. There was a lot of “telling” when I first started writing. I’ve tried to “show” more in these chapters, but I’m always afraid of making things too ambiguous. So here’s a poll about Renalia’s third reason for not wanting to wear shoes.

One other thing I’d like feedback on. In this chapter, I’ve referenced several events from two years ago. Should I write the chapter from the POV of two years ago instead, happening right after Mama’s miscarriage? My reasoning for not doing so was I wanted to get into Plot Proper with Renalia’s deck. And a lot of the aftermath from two years ago only serves as background and context.