“Left! Right! Duck! Attack!”

Colby swung his arm out as another beam barreled towards him. The thin veil of magic surrounding his arm crackled at the impact. He stumbled backwards, scrambling to find his footing when another fiery ball smacked into him. Colby ran through the list of spells in his head, straining to hear the High Priestess’ commands until shot out his free hand.

“Hecritus!” He said.

Pale green light glittered around his fingertips then shot out to form a wall around him. The light stacked itself into makeshift bricks that engulfed him a dome. Once the dome was cast, he dropped his arms and hunched over.

Colby shut his eyes, gulping down the magic infested air for not even a second when a knock rattled the wall. The shell around him collapsed as a beam of magic shot through. Colby’s back met the ground and he wheezed for air that the blast knocked out of him. His eyes widened at the crystalline form of the practice wielder suddenly upon him. It leaned over, poking Colby’s chest before dispersing into smoke. The boy huffed, dropping his head onto the ground.

“That was your third loss today Colby,” the High Priestess said. Colby felt her presence shift from across the firmament and over to him. The long sleeves of her dress brushed against his shoulders as she leaned over him. “This is unlike you.”

“I’m trying,” Colby said.

“Apparently not. Again.”

Colby groaned at her words when something cool plopped onto his stomach. He glanced down at the Popsicle packet and let out a breathy laugh.

“Break time!” the Hanged Man called from afar.

“Yes!” Colby shouted, bolting up into a sitting position and tearing off the wrapper.

The High Priestess’ eyes narrowed at her companion. “No one asked for your presence.”

The body of the Hanged Man shrugged as it held his decapitated head up.

“The boy deserves a break.” He said. “He did a smashing job with those rabbits last night. It’s practically a crime that you’re working him to the bone during his dreams.”

Colby nodded in agreement, suckling on the Popsicle. He fought back a grin at the High Priestess and the Hanged Man going back and forth about his training. Their bickering was routine to him whenever the cards dragged him from his sleep. So much so that whenever he went the night without interruption he feared that something was wrong. In fact, he didn’t remember a moment without them.

Colby couldn’t remember the exact moment when the cards first appeared. Nor could he remember the binding contract that seared itself into his palm when he first reached for them. He could, however, vaguely remember himself teething on the thick stack and his father shrieking something along the lines of germs and hygiene before tossing them into the trash.

While the reliability of a three year old memory was faulty, it was all he had to go on. After his mysterious new teething toy was tossed out, he remembered seeing it reappear in his room; and in the bathroom during his bath, in the mashed up peas of his dinner, and everywhere ever since.

Then when the magic began to kick into overdrive at age four, it was off neighborhood after neighborhood after that. And while his father did try to help him control his magic, via Tarot Cards for Dummies  and So You Think You’re a Wizard checked out one too many times, the cards finally stepped to cover the magic logistics and left him with the homeschooling side of things. A fair trade, Kale eagerly accepted.

Once Colby’s teeth clacked onto the stick of the Popsicle, he tuned in to the High Priestess threatening to toss the Hanged Man’s head into the river.

“That’s mean,” Colby said.

The High Priestess cocked a twitching eyebrow at him. “Oh, so now you’re on his side?”

“I’m on all of your sides,” Colby replied. “Since, you know, it is my dream we’re in.”

The Hanged Man snickered at the High Priestess’ exasperated expression. She dragged a hand down her face before straightening her shoulders. She kneeled down, her skirts pluming around her like a flower in bloom, and tipped Colby’s chin up.

“Colby, I am proud of how you defended yourself last night,” she said. “But it isn’t enough.” She watched the boy’s lips straining to hide a grin quickly drop into a frown. He cast his gaze downward as she continued. “We were lucky that the attack last night was just a small bout of magic gone loose. If that had instead been a possessed user or another Wielder, you’re father would not be alive right now.”

Colby’s bottom lip quivered. In the daze of body jumping, he didn’t miss the way his father limped over to him or the way he winced when he hugged him. An unnerving pain gnawed at his chest.

“None of this is your fault, Colby. But you must understand.” The High Priestess of the cards said. “You are now our magic as we are yours. Whenever you are in need of us, we shall heed your call. Likewise, it is your duty to come to us when we need you as well. As one of our chosen, you will live until we say it is your time. You will do whatever needs to be done, no matter who is involved. And what you take of us, we must take of you. That is the law of Khaos. That is the law you of a Wielder.”

“Mirea,” the Hanged Man said. “If you give us this speech one more time, I’ll throw you and all your precious books into the river.”

“I’ve waited 500 years to give this speech Lucretus,” she snapped. “I’ll say it as many times as I want.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The man rolled his eyes and gave Colby a quick wink. Colby returned a small grin as he continued. “Anyways, if you push the kid harder today, he won’t live to wake up.”

The Hanged Man cradled his head in one arm reached into his vest pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of a parchment and handed it to Colby.

“Go practice these loopholes and enjoy your day kid,” he said. “Tell your old man we said hi.”

“Don’t give him orders I’m supposed to give him!” The High Priestess smacked the man’s head.

As they devolved into another round of bickering, Colby couldn’t help but giggle. He got to his feet and slowly backed away from them before the High Priestess could notice him. As he stepped out of the Arcana circle, he felt himself being pulled upside down into a flurry of clouds. He blinked once. Then twice. At the third blink he found his bedroom swimming around him before plopping onto the mattress beneath him.

He stifled a yawn, rolling off the mattress and onto the floor. He glanced down to see the parchment the Hanged Man had given him and unfolded it. He skimmed the over the list of loopholes that would prevent the give and take scale of Wielder use then got to his feet. Colby walked down the hallway with a skip, the pain from training in his dream vanishing the moment he woke.

“Morning Daddy,” Colby said as he reached the kitchen.

He squealed at the sight of the giant paper bags on the counter. He pulled himself up onto a chair, dragging a paper bag towards him. As he peeked into the bag, he began pulling out the groceries until he pulled out a pack of pudding cups. He grinned so hard that his cheeks began to hurt.

“Nice try Daddy!” Colby said. He tore a pudding cup out of the package. “You didn’t even try hiding the Tiemann this time.”

When silence answered him, Colby looked up to see Kale across from him slouched over in one of the chairs in the living room. Colby set the pack down and moved over to Kale. The man’s eyes were locked onto a letter in his hand, his fingers threatening to crush the paper in his grip.

“Daddy?” Colby asked.

Kale blinked and jerked his head to Colby.

“Col!” Kale flushed. “What have I said about sneaking up on me like that?”

Colby’s brows furrowed for a moment before smoothing over. “It’s a part of my lesson this week to see how many times I can scare you.”

Kale chuckled lightly and Colby pointed to the letter, still grinning. “What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Kale quickly shoved the letter into his pocket before leading Colby into the kitchen. “So what do you say to pancakes this morning?”

As Kale began to panic at how he left the groceries unattended, Colby swallowed down the uneasiness that each gesture of Kale’s brought him. He forced a smile upon his lips and hopped up onto a chair.

“Only if I get to put in the chocolate chips.”

The tired grin he earned was worth ignoring the letter. 

“Deal.”