Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t the best card by any means, but it was certainly your favourite. Perhaps it was cute or cool, or reminded you of an animal you knew, or possibly you just felt a connection; you just didn’t want to hurt it. Leshy had said its suffering was real, and the talking cards you met appeared to feel pain. So why wouldn’t the other cards? Even if they returned to your deck after the encounter, the Stoat’s annoyed face always told you more than its words could ever say. You had decided to not play the card at all.

It was… an interesting observation the Scrybe of Beasts had made - how you’d hesitate when you would check your deck for a cheap card to sacrifice, or how you’d only play it for overkill damage this run. He wasn’t too sure if it was merely a coincidence, or you didn’t quite understand the game fully yet, but he kept a mental note of it.

You made your way through his battles built with every drop of attention and detail carved into each engagement and event. He observed as you made your cards stronger, more powerful and as concise as you could.

Your deck wasn’t strong enough for him yet.

As he placed the newly created deathcard in his card piles, he noticed your face. You already had a nervous and slightly distressed demeanour about you as you played his game, but your face this time… It was something of disappointment and gloom.

You had lost the card. You still appreciated your starting deck, but now there was something missing. Sure, it provided no value strategically, but it held support morally. If anything, you just liked to look at the card. You sighed and moved forward. You would have to do without it.

At least you had more knowledge than before of what was ahead at least and could form early strategies. Still, it was a bit disheartening. Even in a game where you’d sacrifice your teeth or eyeballs, you still liked to create nonsensical opinions on the cards. It was… a way of coping in this somewhat morbid game, you guessed.

You advanced forward, moving to each event, from picking cards to trials, hoping to reunite with the card along the way. Unfortunately, lady luck was not on your side. You had finally finished an encounter, barely able to make it without a loss.

Leshy studied your expression with his unwavering eyes. It seemed like you had regressed instead of learning - he could tell by looks alone; stiff unconfident shoulders and closely knitted brows were such examples of your meek disposition. He glanced at the map separating you two, and took a gamble.

“As you made your way through the woodlands, you stumbled on some familiar faces,” The Scrybe spoke, “each was willing to rejoin you on your journey.”

Three cards were laid out in front of you, yet something about the card event felt different. You flipped each card.

All the cards were from your old deck, sigils and all, your special card included. You picked it immediately, of course, and Leshy couldn’t help but appreciate your excitement. He couldn’t help but watch your smile as you looked at your deck, what was missing returned, for the both of you. And he couldn’t help but notice an almost unnoticeable nod to his way, perhaps a gesture of thankfulness. He didn’t want to assume. You were happy, and that’s all he needed.

You progressed, learnt more, failed and returned to the start. Each time, the Scrybe of Beasts would offer you a specific selection from your old deck on the road. He was somewhat impressed with your dedication to the one card, despite his offering of some of your best cards so far. Eventually, he just slipped it into your starting deck. It saved him from the same situation every time, after all, and he just couldn’t help but yearn for your joy. Your smile was addicting, your enthusiasm was captivating, your satisfaction was bliss, and he wanted all of it. Playing with a new challenger was heaven, but playing with a challenger who was enjoying their time was a whole new paradise.

This time, you had made it once more to the final fight of the campaign the Scrybe had designed. It was tough, but you were confident you had better cards than the last time. With your good luck charm in hand, you matched his cards and strategies with your own. Finally, you had made it past the first phase, and you were eager to await the next stage.

“After barely enduring the onslaught of rare creatures, you shuddered,” He spoke, watching you as you peered to his side of the deck in curiosity, "For you knew, somehow, that the worst was yet to come.”

Several deathcards you had encountered and made littered the board. One such deathcard, one you recalled being one of your earliest deathcards, sparked a reaction from the game master. "... I remember that one fondly." He spoke softly as if he was looking back on an old memory.

Your eyes sparked with exhilaration, trying to focus on one set thing, but everything in the cabin at that moment felt bright and dazzling. The gorgeous moon and the radiant glow it shone on the cards, the carefully crafted masks of every boss you had encountered since the beginning, and in the centre of it all - your mystical game master and his enthralling eyes that caught your attention every time you gazed on them.

You took a deep breath and played your cards and items, still making sure you had cards ready for the next phase if you could get to it. As your cards thinned out and Leshy’s own cards got stronger, you only had a few choices: play your weaker card, or wait it out with squirrels.

Eventually, you were at risk of starvation. The storyteller watched as your hand shakily moved closer to your last item, the knife that you wanted to reserve for the last phase. You were so close. Typically, he wouldn’t want to interfere with how these encounters would play out, but for you, he reconsidered. A large hand, much larger than yours, gently intervened.

As your eyes met his, he answered your puzzled and - admittedly - flushed look as he gently stroked the soft skin of your hand. With his other, he grasped the Trapper mask as it floated by, before flipping it upside down.

“As your resources dwindled, the Trader had one last proposition for you,” He spoke, before adorning the mask, “... It isn’t exactly a pelt, but let’s trade.”

Leshy removed his hand, much to your disappointment, but between his two hands now sat three items: a Goat card, an Hourglass, and a pair of Scissors. Each item had its uses, including your knife, but if the game master was offering this to you, why wouldn’t you accept?

You motioned to the hourglass, and the trade was complete. Leshy took off the mask, letting it orbit around him once more.

As the turns passed, now more evenly matched, you found the Scrybe’s appearance unavoidable to look at, although he was cloaked in darkness, as usual, the glare of the moon shadowing him formed a silhouette you hadn’t been able to clearly make out before. At that moment, every inch of him looked ethereal.

You almost missed the bell from staring too hard - and crushing too hard, clearly. A small laugh escaped you as you brushed it off and played your next turn, finally removing your gaze from Leshy to see the scale move in your favour. As soon as the scales fully tipped and his cards left his side of the deck, the game master turned around.

“This damned moon. It’s dramatic, yes, but it provides no value to my board. I wonder…” He trailed off, before aiming his camera in the air. Suddenly, his entire side was filled with a single card - The Moon. You were too busy staring in awe to notice the Scrybe turn back to face you. “Now that is value.” His gruff voice laced with pride, glad he was able to impress you.

You looked at your squirrel pile, only a few cards remained. Upon seeing the three cards that still remained on your board, you decided to pick one up. You had just enough turns. Barely.

As one of your cards attacked the moon for more than enough damage, you made eye contact with Leshy once more.

“You really destroyed the moon… I suppose all that’s left is to finish me off,” He spoke, before looking at your side of the deck, “... Perhaps you’d like to use that card.”




In your hand, your special card waited. You smiled and nodded, sacrificing the last squirrel on the board to place it. You couldn’t help but wait in anticipation for what the game master had planned next.