My answer didn't seem to fully convince the bookstore owner. She narrowed her eyes, looking at me as if she wanted to say something.
After a few seconds, she crossed her arms with a sigh.
"Honestly... Next time you come to work here, get a good night's sleep. I don't want to have to send you home because of some accident. I know a bookstore isn't where most work-related accidents happen, but still..."
"I'm fine, really. Took some pills for it already."
Now, that was a lie. They wouldn't help. I knew that too well.
"In that case, you are good to do some deliveries, right?"
"…don't we have...the post for that?"
She shook her head and clicked her tongue repeatedly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"If they were normal books, sure. But not for these. And I'm not going to pay extra for... delivery hazards." She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Ridiculous."
"Cheap..." I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, I was just about to ask for details."
"Good, no need to overthink it. I have three books for you to deliver. Simple as that."
Why do I feel like that's not all?
Mrs Walker turned around and started to make her way to the door at the back of the store.
"I will be back in a few minutes. Just need to bring the books up from the basement and make sure the locks are strong enough."
"The basement? Locks?"
"Of course, dear. Wouldn't want them biting anyone."
"That was a joke… right?"
I didn't get my answer to that.
As Mrs Walker disappeared into the other room, leaving me no time to voice a complaint, my headache worsened.
"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..."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a black block. It was the size of my palm and about a few centimetres high.
"And here I thought 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.
"But this thing is at least good at making me less bored, a trait you sadly don't share with it."
No response came, only the silence of the shop.
Figures…
Setting the block on the table, I tapped its top. 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. It was one of the great Solomon's most famous inventions. Fates wasn't popular only in Luminis but in other countries.
Even if I'm not the biggest fan of it, the fact that a game did something years of conflict couldn't was marvellous. People who would consider each other enemies sat down. They talked almost like friends.
Solomon himself played many times with multiple emperors of Valenstein. The country had been in conflict with Luminis since its founding. That was until the son of the 303rd emperor killed his father on the way back to the palace. Though he took the throne, he was assassinated a few 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.
I thought about trying to piss him off. I quickly dismissed the idea.
Not because I was afraid of him. Oh, no. I long stopped fearing him. Or I like to think so at least.
He clearly needed me for something.
I dismissed it because it wouldn't work.
He only showed up when he wanted—sometimes whispering or laughing, but rarely truly appearing.
He didn't appear often. And even if he did, he never answered anything I said. Most of the time, he didn't even let me speak during such occasions.
I took 6 cards from the deck for myself, then another six for 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 take turns revealing a card. If the card revealed was a Death card, the player lost.
I turned the first card on my side over.
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 turned up.
A chalice overflowing with red liquid. The Full Cup. Depending on interpretation, it meant good health—or the opposite.
"I really do hate this game, you know." I spoke louder, "I used to love it. Seeing others play it and hearing what it was about intrigued me. 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. The cards are blank unless you start to play. All of them could be identical or all unique. There are more symbols and images than 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. Not 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. 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 to the backroom open.
Mrs Walker walked into the room, holding 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 at 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? First time I heard of it.
She walked to the counter and set the stack down, 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 meant going into the inner city. At least those two were 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 district, you can go straight home. You live next to it, no?"
I stared 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 my face drew an involuntary groan from me.
Can't it be Tuesday already?
-------
???'s POV:
I watched the boy walk out of the store, grumbling about the weather.
He passed right through me, not seeing me this time.
But that was alright. After all... I'm but a "spectre"
How ironic. I do hate ghosts and curses.
"3 years... Who thought it could feel so much... I'm not truly suited for this role. I would rather sing, not just write the lyrics."
My lips curled up under my hood.
"Not long now, 'til the curtain falls on our prelude."
I walked beside the boy, shadowing his steps. He walked through the crowd, dodging the people as they passed by him. I just walked through them. Or perhaps they walked through me.
"You turned out better than I hoped, little sinner. Your mind resilient. Your Spirit strong and plentiful."
I reached out, putting my hand under his chin. "You put on quite a few masks, though. Do you even know which ones are masks? I'll have to break a few. Like..."
My hand passed through his face. He flinched, faltering in his steps. My mouth curled into a smile.
"This face really doesn't suit you. Your real... those eyes..." I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. "Oh, those eyes."
I stopped in my tracks. Looking down, I saw my body fading. "How inconvenient... But it doesn't matter. Our time is coming, my vessel of memories."
"My Harlequin."