As Mrs. Walker disappeared into the other room, leaving me no time to voice a complaint, I felt my headache worsen.
"Mondays are truly the worst..." I muttered while putting a hand to my temple, massaging it slowly.
Eventually, I got tired of standing around and went back behind the counter Standing the fallen chair back up, I sat down and leaned back.
"The one time I try to be nice... Of course everything goes bad. First the nightmare, now this..."
Weird nightmares weren't new to me. I had them for as long as I could remember. Which wasn't much, but still. First, it was once a month, then twice. Now it was almost every other day.
They felt too real, not to mention giving me a sense of... familiarity I couldn't quite explain.
Everything and everyone in them were foreign to me, all too different from anything I saw in this world and yet there was something about them that made me feel ways I never quite did before.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out a black block. It was the size of my palm and a few centimetres in height.
"And here I though you hated this game."
The same voice spoke, now coming from awfully close to my ear and sounding all too pleased. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.
"Yeah, almost as much as I hate you." I snapped back in a hushed tone. Don't want anyone to thinking I'm crazy. Me thinking that is enough.
"But this thing is at least good at make me less bored, a trait you sadly don't share with it."
No response came, only the silence of the shop.
It's been like this ever since the nightmares started. This hooded prick has been haunting and annoying me for more than 3 years now. He was there when I slept too. The architect of my suffering.
A particular memory surfaced in my mind. Of sitting in a blank white space, unable to move. The hooded figure was slowly walking towards me. He pressed his hand to my forehead, muttered something like: 'Time to see me labours pay off.'
Then pain overtook me and the nightmare started.
That was the first time it happened.
He was quite creative, for a sadistic bastard that is. Never using the same method to torment me before plunging me into those weird dreams.
It never left any physical marks, but they did take their toll on me. Though, after so many times, I got somewhat used to it.
'Perhaps that's even worse...'
Setting the block on the table, I tapped the top of it. In response it rose a bit, now looking less like a box and more like a deck of cards.
Fates.
That was the apt and very creative name of this card game. One of the great Solomon's most famous inventions. This one wasn't only popular in Luminis, but in other countries as well.
Even if I wasn't the biggest fan of it, the fact that a game did something years of conflict couldn't, was marvellous. It made people who would consider each other enemies sit down and talk almost like friends.
Solomon himself played with the multiple emperors of Valenstein, a country that have been in conflict with Luminis since its founding, many times. That was until the son of the 303rd emperor killed his father on the way back to the palace after a game and took the throne. Though he was assassinated weeks later.
"I suppose you aren't interested in playing with me?"
I glanced up, half expecting to see my spectral stalker grin at me from the top of the bookshelf. Yet the shop was devoid of people besides me, and once again, I got no answer.
"Coward." I muttered, scoffing loudly.
'Perhaps if I piss him off enough...'
I discarded the idea very quickly. He never interacted with me really. He only showed up when he wanted. Whispering and laughing he did often, but really show up...
He did that rarely. And even if he did, he never answered to anything I said. Most of the time not even letting me speak during such occasions.
Taking 6 cards from the deck, I put them in front of me. Then put another six on the other side of the counter.
'Well, if you aren't playing, I will be your proxy. Don't blame me if you lose though.'
Sudden Death. A variation of Fates, where players would each draw 6 cards. Then they would reveal a card, before the next player took their turn. If the card was a Death card, the player lost.
I turned the first card on my side.
It depicted a squirrel holding an acorn in the middle of a mushroom circle.
The Fairy Ring.
Next came the card opposing the one I just turn up.
A chalice, overflowing with red liquid. The Full Cup. Depending on the interpretation it could be taken as a sign of good health or the exact opposite.
"I really do hate this game you know." I spoke louder.
"I used to love it. Seeing others play it, hearing what it was about, it got me intrigued. I spent days messing around with a deck Mother bought me."
My next card, a winged figure, showered in golden light. The Blessed.
"It was pointless really. The cards are blank, unless you start to play. All of them could be the very same, or all different. There are more symbols and images then the number of cards in the deck."
4th card, a rusted sword in the middle of a wasteland. The Left Behind.
"No matter what version of rules you use, it's all random, all... up to fate."
The next was a dark face with red eyes and a wide grin of the same colour. Crimson tears were flowing from one of its eyes. The Cruel.
"It doesn't matter how much effort you put into it, even for versions that require strategy or critical thinking. It's all up to luck in the end."
The 6th card, a hanged man, but the victim and the noose seemed to be upside-down, while the background looked normal. The Hanged Man in Reverse.
It wasn't a Death card. As to why, I didn't know.
I bit my lip.
"So then why...out of 1138 games... of all the variants one can play... why can't I win a single time?"
There it was. A wooden post with a rope, standing imposingly on the top of a mountain made from bones, with black birds flying high in the sky.
The Grim Gallows.
Death.
For a few seconds I didn't move, just looked down at the cards. Then I scoffed.
"1139..." I said, followed by a sigh.
As I started to gather up the cards, humming caught my attention.
Sure enough, there he was again, sitting on the edge of the same shelf, leaning forward with a wide grin.
I grabbed a random book that rested on the counter, about to throw it at the bastard, when I heard the door the the backroom open.
Mrs. Walker walked into the room, in her hand 3 metallic boxes, only slightly bigger than a standard book.
"Alex? What are you doing?" She asked, looking at me weirdly.
When I glanced back to the shelf, the spot was empty now.
With a loud sigh I put the book back down.
"Nothing... I saw a fly."
"Then swat it with your hands, not one of my books, or I will take it out of your salary."
'I have a salary?'
She walked to the counter, and set the stack down on it, along with a simple black messenger bag.
"There we go..."
She glanced at some of the cards still laid out on the table.
"You could have told me you wanted to play, dear. I'm quite good at some versions you know."
I gathered up all the cards and put them back on top of the deck. Holding it with a finger on the top and one on the bottom, the entire thing went back to looking like a black block.
I shook it a few times, making sure it wasn't coming apart. Then I put it into my pocket.
"Maybe next time..."
"I will take your word for it."
'Oh joy...'
"Anyways, back to the task at hand." She put her hand on the stack of boxes. "The top one goes to district 24, middle to the 15th."
'That means going into the inner city. At least they are relatively close.'
"And the last one to the 18th."
'Never mind...'
"Really? Mrs. Walker, that's the whole other side of the city."
"Thank you for the lesson on the layout of the capital, dear Alexander. But I've been living here longer than you, so I'm quite familiar with it."
She put the boxes into the bag and held it towards me.
"And if you finish at the 18th, you can go straight home. You live next to it no?"
I started at her, then at the bag. In the end I took it with a sigh.
"See? Wasn't so hard, was it? I sent you the addresses. Along with a copy of the trade permit to sell these. Just in case. Also..."
"Yeah yeah yeah..." I waved her off. "I will just go."
I started to make my way to the front door of the shop.
"Be very careful. And don't open the boxes. And don't get them wet. And..."
She still said something, but I was already half out of the door by then. The humid warmth of the air hitting me in the face drew an involuntary groan from my mouth.
'Can't it be Tuesday already?'