All The Skills

Brixaby

Brixaby moved forward under stealth. Though he didn’t know why he bothered. No one here paid attention to any purples, which was both annoying . . . and rather gratifying when they realized their mistake.

Beside him, he passed the blue. His magic felt like a guttering candle, and his rider had just stood there and let it happen.

That is not a good partnership.

He loved and respected Arthur, but if he stood by and let Brixaby be drained, without at least trying to throw himself between them, they would have some severe words.

The green was getting the worst of it now. Her rider stood by, wringing her hands uselessly. Brixaby flicked his tongue out in distaste.

She was a Legendary. What was wrong with her?

Blood Drop, however, had regained at least some of his former glory. Though his scales were not back to their annoyingly beautiful luster—Brixaby had not been jealous of the scales. No, not in the least.

Brixaby crept up, determining his best moment to strike. There was a chance that an interruption could severely hurt the green. He wasn’t a monster. He could wait a minute. Perhaps even two minutes.

Suddenly, Blood Drop reared back and roared, lifting his claws from the green. She sagged, whining, her the rider went to her. Blood Drop, however, swung his head angrily toward Arthur.

“Brixaby!” Arthur yelled. “Get your card!”

Brixaby dropped from his stealth and leapt at the dragon’s chest. He didn’t expect to be swatted back.

In retrospect, it was likely a lucky shot on Blood Drop’s part. The giant red was reared back on his hind legs, forelimbs flailing. As Brixaby buzzed forward for his final strike, one clawed hand swept to the side and struck him.

Air whooshed out of his lungs, and fire exploded through his left set of wings.

The worst part, though, was the snapping sound.

Brixaby hit the ledge and slid to a stop. He tried to buzz back up, but the white-hot agony that shot through his left side made him roar. He looked over at his wings—his beautiful left set of wings were broken. The forward wing should not be facing that direction, and the back wing was crumpled terribly.

“My rider!” Blood Drop screamed, like he was the only one hurting. “What have you done?”

Brixaby climbed to his feet. Those, at least, were uninjured. He grinned at the other dragon. “The same thing I will do to you.”

Blood Drop roared, and there was power and command to it. Lachlan and the green staggered upright as if they were puppets on strings that had been activated. Neither had the physical power to throw themselves at Brixaby, but they could use their cards.

Vines grew up along the cracks of the rock-face ledge, fed by trickles of water that appeared out of nowhere. Flowers formed on the vines. It all happened in the space it took for someone to count to three. The power of a Legendary.

Suddenly, those flowers opened, and green needles spit out toward Brixaby.

He activated his Phase In, Phase Out, and they went harmlessly through him.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Meanwhile, with a roar that sounded like a trumpet of rage, Blood Drop started toward Arthur.

He was not paying any attention to Brixaby, as if he wasn’t a threat at all. And why should he be? To his senses, he was only a Rare.

Well, Brixaby would change that.

He was tired of playing meek and small. This hive should be led by a true Legendary. He dropped his Illusion and Knocked Down cards. The flood of mana that rushed into him now that he no longer had to maintain those cards was gratifying.

As was the look of shock on Blood Drop’s face. He stopped in place, turned around, and stared at Brixaby. So did Lachlan and the green.

“That’s right, I am magnificent,” Brixaby said.

“That is the card-stealing dragon, the card stealer,” Lachlan breathed. He took a step back.

“I thought he was the size of a parrot,” the green muttered.

“I grew!” Brixaby snapped. “Yes, it is I, Brixaby, the ultimate card stealer,” he said because the nickname could use a little flair, “and you have one of my cards.”

“Then come and take it from me,” Blood Drop said with deadly calm. “Crippled purple.”

Frankly, if someone had just hurt Arthur, a little thing like another dragon revealing themselves as a Legendary wouldn’t have stopped Brixaby from killing that person, but the dragons and their riders were weird here.

And as much as he hated to admit it, his maneuverability was gone. He was just trying to figure out how likely it was that the red would stay in place and let Brixaby limp over to him on foot, when the green and blue acted.

Vines grew out again, fed by Lachlan’s water-calling ability. Only they didn’t attack Brixaby.

They wrapped around Blood Drop’s legs to hold him fast.

Brixaby didn’t wait another moment. He lunged forward.

The red gave him a condescending look, opened his jaws, and released that terrible green beam.

It struck Brixaby full on, and it was . . . like a wave of sweet relief, of energy and joy. It had probably been like that for the scourgling for the first few moments, too.

His wing bones snapped perfectly into place without any pain. Brixaby felt the energy wrap around him and nourish him. His cards sang with their near reunion.

Brixaby’s body soaked up the energy and he grew.

But it was too much too soon, and he knew that within a few moments, that nourishing energy would spin out of control. Other parts of him would overgrow into tumors. His scales would twist inward, and he would be lost.

Brixaby was technically a purple—a Legendary one. His natural magic was nullification. Spells didn’t often hit him as fast or as hard as they would otherwise. He nullified the bonds around people’s heart decks when he took their cards.

And he nullified the overgrowth effects of the life energy.

He charged forward, through the beam, energized and larger, with his perfectly healed wings buzzing to give a boost of speed.

Blood Drop screamed, and Brixaby sensed him reaching for something instinctively—a card that was no longer there because his link with his rider was severed.

Then Brixaby bowled into the great dragon. Blood Drop staggered, and with the greatest relish, Brixaby ripped the cards from his heart.

The last of the green life energy cut off immediately.

Standing over his vanquished enemy, Brixaby tipped back his head and roared, and it was a mighty bellow from a mighty set of lungs.

“Brixaby.” Arthur ran up, and Brixaby looked down at his rider, who appeared . . . very small. Arthur’s head barely came up to the top of his front leg. “Are you okay?”

“I have never felt better,” Brixaby said honestly. Then he looked at his new card. He had pulled several from Blood Drop, but there was only one that counted.

Call of Life

Legendary

Life

This card recognizes the awesome power that is contained within all life. Its wielder can use it to fuel their own at will, draining life energy from any living target they can touch. This life energy is collected in a separate vault viewable within the wielder’s dashboard.

Life energy may be transmitted to another user at will or reserved for the wielder’s personal use. Life energy is antithetical to death energy.

Warning: Repeated draining from a target may result in premature aging or death.

Warning: Life energy is powerful, and the transfer of too much life energy to a user may result in cancerous growths.

This card is part of the Call set. Search out other cards in this set to add to your power.

“Yes,” Brixaby said. “This will do nicely.”

He slid the card into his primary core and felt a renewed rush of power. He now had three of a kind. Legendary three of a kinds.

Soon, he would be nigh unstoppable.

He looked around in satisfaction. “I suppose this will do.”

“What?” Arthur had a slightly distant look in his eye that told him he was accessing his Master of Cards. Likely to see how Brixaby’s new card was fitting in with the others.

“This hive,” Brixaby said patiently. “We have supplanted the leader—the other two are useless. They do not count. Now Blood Moon Hive is ours.”

“Oh,” Arthur said. “Oh no.”