Chapter 2: A game of fate

Blinking in perplexity, Mike found himself standing in a white room, far from the prison exit. There was a desk, and a man sat at the other side of it. An empty chair, clearly intended for Mike. The room seemed eerily white, like a painter had put his life and soul into making it perfect, and the air smelled like perfume. The man was wearing a black suit with a pristine white shirt, maybe a couple sizes too large for him, with no notable features other than a large, crooked nose.

'Would you look at that? The boy wasn't messing around…' Mike sat on the chair without much fanfare, staring at the man in comfortable silence.

"Welcome Earthling, no questions? No gasps? No panicked yells?" said the stranger.

"… I enjoy surprises," said Mike, still looking at the man leisurely.

The man laughed and then settled into a smile with sly eyes.

"I like you."

Mike leaned his head to the side, measuring up the 'man' in front of him.

"Anything else?"

"Sure, want to play a game?"

Mike raised his thick brows, smiled, and leaned in, waiting for the rest.

The stranger reached into his jacket and got out a stack of cards. He expertly played with the cards, a performance that seemed to defy physics as the cards flew from hand to hand in unexpected trajectories. Mike could swear that some of the faces on the cards were moving, but the cards moved too quickly to confirm.

As the stranger shuffled the cards, he spoke.

"The rules of the game are simple. These 21 cards tell a tragic story, worry not, the story is different every time. We play against eachother, each of us are allowed five changes, where we must change one card, with it, the story steers in a new direction. Do note that we cannot choose the cards already altered by you or me. Your goal is to avoid the tragic ending, mine is to make it worse. Whoever succeeds, wins"

Mike crossed his arms, putting his elbows on the table, waiting for the game. The stranger made a final shuffle placing all 21 cards face down on the table. One by one he began revealing each card for Mike. Each card contained a moving image, or rather a moving painting. Each one seemed to correspond to a developing story.

The first card told of a prophet predicting a tragedy of love. The prophet was a beautiful woman with covered eyes, tears running down her cheeks. Wrapping her hands around a globe showing two lovers reaching for eachother, she looked up in despair.

The Second told of a hero in shining armor, bravely facing the stormy sea. He raised his sword towards the sea, seemingly challenging the world itself.

The third told of a couple in embrace, seemingly hiding from prying eyes. The prying eyes shone with a red color in rage.

The fourth told of the blades chasing the lovers in the mist.

The fifth told of the bride bound and ripped from the hero's arms, as he escaped in despair.

The stranger paused.

"I shall make my first change. The fifth card will tell a story of betrayal, a dear friend makes a terrible choice for gold, the hero is broken and in despair"

As the stranger spoke, the card changed, with the traitor whispering to the blades, the hero in despair, broken in mind and soul reaching for his bound lover.

Mike thought for a bit.

"I shall make no change"

The stranger chuckled and continued, flipping the next card with anticipation.

The sixth told of a wise old man, watching, as the hero scaled a cliff. The hero fell and the old man approached, urging him to continue.

The seventh told of the hero regaining his strength. A changed man full of conviction in his eyes.

The eighth told of a journey the hero embarked on, beasts upon beasts slayed in his wake.

The ninth told of friends gained, heroes like him.

The tenth told of victory and fame.

The stranger paused once more.

"I shall make another change. The eighth card is the target. The hero slays the beasts, but one poisons him, death follows him thereafter"

The eighth card morphed, the hero stands victorious, but he is bitten by a snake, the subsequent cards change slightly, the hero seems sick and weakened as he celebrates with his companions. Mike observed the change and spoke with a smile.

"I shall make no change."

The stranger squinted his eyes at Mike, but without any comments he continued.

The tenth card showed the hero in bed, with his companions around him.

The eleventh showed his grave.

The twelfth card showed a woman in grief.

The thirteenth showed her married to a man with a handsome face, tears running down her cheeks.

The fourteenth card showed her to be pregnant.

The fifteenth card was of two boys playing in the yard as their mother watched from distance.

The stranger paused once more.

"I shall make two changes now. I must remind you, you cannot change the cards that I changed"

Mike only glanced at the stranger, clearly unwilling to share his ploy. The stranger chuckled at the audacity and made his choices.

"The tenth card I will change, at his deathbed his companions aren't there for him, he has served his purpose to bring them fame"

The card changed to the hero at his deathbed, through the window his companions could be seen holding some sort of a festival.

"The thirteenth card tells of her marrying a rich man with a cruel and ugly face as punishment for her dissent."

The card changed and in the next card, her face was full of bruises, she seemed tired and empty. The fifteenth card, showed her grave. The stranger flipped the rest of the cards, all showing the graves of the two lovers, far away from eachother. The stranger looked at Mike and made his final change.

"The fifteenth card is the final one I will change, her grief, suffering and miscarriage makes her sick, she is forced to leave her husband, as she is no use."

The card changed, instead of the grave, she was shown sickly, left out on the street. The next cards showed her aging, begging, dying in pain and suffering. The final card showing the happy companions, the rich traitors and the comfortable husband with his new wife to torment.

Mike looked at the story of the two lovers, the hero and the maiden who fell in love, never meant to be. A man surrounded by traitors and a woman surrounded by evil men.

"I shall make only one change"

The stranger seemed to become excited, leaning closer he waited. Mike slowly pointed at the second card, showing the brave hero challenging the world.

"The hero dreams of grandeur, but he is a coward, all he knows is how to plant potatoes"

The stranger's face morphed into confusion. He looked down at the cards and the confusion only grew. The sword changed to a shovel, the sea, to a field of potatoes. The armor changed to cheap clothes. The subsequent cards morphed as well, the beasts changed to pests the farmer defeated. The maiden ignored the farmer as he blended into the crowd. Her family found her a worthy husband. She smiled at her wedding. Her children were strong and healthy. The whole tragedy fell apart.

The stranger squinted, put his head down and rubbed his temples. For a few seconds he was silent. Then a chuckle escaped him, which soon enough turned to a fit of laughter. Finally, after minutes of wheezing the man calmed down.

"Such a stupid change, how did you know it would impact the story so much."

Mike smiled.

"Love is an endeavor for the brave"

The stranger considered it for a moment.

"An astute observation. It took away the main flare of the game, but I must say, very efficient. I suppose it's time for the reward… I suppose I'll throw in two additional gifts, considering you only used one change"

The stranger picked up the cards, shuffled and put three on the table face down. Then motioned to Mike, prompting him to flip them.

Mike didn't hesitate much.

The first card showed a man with a saber and a stiletto.

The second showed the prophet from the game, this time with a sly smile, her eyes uncovered revealing two red eyes, the globe in front of her was blank.

The third showed a storm with thunder and lightning.

Mike looked at the cards and looked at the stranger, waiting for an explanation.

The stranger inspected the cards carefully and spoke with a hint of interest.

"From now on, it seems you are a warrior of storm, your weapons of choice will be a sabre and a stiletto. Your fate is bound to uncertainty, releasing you from its chains. This shall give you freedom from the stars above, but it will bring danger as well… all in all, a very interesting development."

Mike considered the words of the stranger carefully.

"Warrior of storm?"

"Ah yes, it's a type of elemental." Said the stranger, as if it provided clarity, Mike of course, wasn't satisfied.

"Elemental, like controlling fire and water?"

"Yes, in this case, a storm elemental. It's the power of your soul"

Boredom etched a frown on Mike's face as he found himself dissatisfied with the explanation, he'd prefer to make the choice, rather than depend on chance. The stranger seemed to recognize this and elaborated with an understanding smile.

"These will impact only the beginning of your adventure and the general direction, you will have plenty of choice thereafter"

A hint of excitement found itself in Mike's eyes.

"Clear, any more details?"

The stranger leaned back into his chair, crossed his legs, almost proud of reeling Mike back in. Confidently, the stranger spoke:

"Every affinity has its own... Style, Elemental, is a historical name; it's not a particularly good descriptor, don't take it too heart. It's something you are born with, the card only awakened it."

"Is it supposed to reflect my personality?"

"Not exactly; rather, it reflects your predispositions."

"A storm seems a bit general; can I affect atmospheric pressure? What counts as a storm?"

"It depends on the person, really; all I can say with confidence is... Broadly speaking, your style will revolve around a calm origin and a chaotic shell. It gets all mystical and mysterious at some point."

Mike mulled it over briefly, opting to preserve the element of surprise rather than seeking further explanation.

"I suppose it's time to say goodbye," said Mike with the energy of a young child going on an adventure.

"Yes, I wish you luck."

"Thank you," Mike said while standing up. The stranger looked at him, seemingly remembering something.

"Also, I will bestow upon you a gift; from now on, your name is Mikael... embrace it"

Mike smiled at the stranger, a bit confused, nodded, and disappeared.

"I suppose his personality is quite close to his affinity. What a shame that we can't interfere; the trials are a bit random."

'Let us hope for the best. What's so special about him, special enough to even give him a name of old?'

"Detached enough to endure, fierce enough to conquer and wise for his age"