Chapter Text
Card Castle is a dull, empty place under the rule of the Spade King.
The monotone hallways stretch silent and still, with tomb-like walls that press on either side. There are no windows, no natural light to let in after all, and the only gaps in the dark brick are the yawning doorways like the maws of beasts opened to swallow whoever may pass through. The air is stale, heavy, and the atmosphere is chilled.
Rouxls does not think he will ever grow accustomed to this place.
He stands in a room that he is supposed to call his own, but the items strewed about it do not belong to him. The bed is left unmade, a hat hanging from the bottom post. One wall has various pieces of paper tacked to it, with reminders and motivational messages written on them. Rouxls shifts his gaze and sees a stack of books and magazines in a corner of the room, one left open and facedown on the top of the pile, as if the owner had planned to get back to it later.
If Rouxls didn’t know better, he’d think he was trespassing. That whoever this room belonged to would walk through the door any moment. But he did know better, and he thought of iron shackles and barred cages and faces screaming in despair deep below the castle’s floor.
He shakes the images from his mind quickly. There is no use dwelling on the past. Rouxls Kaard is a man of the future! If this place is to be his home, then he shall make it so!
He doesn’t get far in his endeavor to organize the room when he is interrupted by the ground shaking in hiccups. Heavy footsteps thump along outside, causing items to jump and tremble as they grow closer. And then, the Spade King is standing in the opened doorway with the majesty of an eagle, a toothy grin upon his face.
Immediately, Rouxls drops everything he’s holding and bends into a bow.
“You may rise, Kaard,” the king says and the mouth on his stomach titters incomprehensibly. Rouxls does as told.
“Sire, what doth thou need from me at this time?”
The king shakes his head and steps further into the room, knocking down and cracking a pile of CDs that Rouxls had found and placed by the door.
“Aren’t I allowed to come and see how my new Duke of Puzzles is settling in?”
“O-Of course!” Rouxls scrambles. “I simply-- as the onlyst king, I believeth you hath more importante matters to attend to, Sire?”
“You’re an important matter!” The king exclaims, slinging a thick arm over Rouxls' shoulders and nearly knocking him over in the process. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I want to make sure you’re doing well. The stress of the job hasn’t gotten to you yet, has it?” The smile upon the king’s face reads sadistic amusement. His second mouth breathes hot against Rouxls’ side but he does not dare pull away.
He smiles weakly. “It hath not upended me yet, olde friend.”
Both mouths cackle hysterically and globs of saliva hit Rouxls’ face, and he resists the urge to wipe them away. The king gives his shoulder one strong squeeze before letting go. “I’m glad to hear that! It’s very nice to be working with such a trusted friend.”
“Indeed,” Rouxls says stiffly.
The king glances around, looking at all the stuff still littered about the room. Seems to realize he’s interrupted something. “I’ll leave you it then.”
He’s almost out the door and Rouxls has leaned down to pick up the items when there’s a thud as the king’s large hand slams against the doorway.
“I really am glad to have you here, Kaard,” and he says it in that low, rumbling tone that hides malice like a snake hides its fangs. “I do hope you don’t disappoint me.”
With another fiendish laugh, the king leaves.
Rouxls quickly finds many problems with being the Duke of Puzzles, but the main one is that he doesn’t actually know anything about puzzles.
At first, he hadn’t even known what he was supposed to be doing . There were already puzzles set up within the castle, and even without knowing how they worked all he felt he could do was tidy them up every now and again.
But then the king started asking when he was going to start setting up, and every time Rouxls had sputtered out some excuse about planning. And with every time, the frown on the king’s face deepened.
“Remember what I said about not disappointing me, Kaard,” he’d said and Rouxls knew immediately it was a warning. He’d barely suppressed a shudder when the king’s second mouth gnashed its teeth together.
“Of course.”
His composure had only held until he’d reached the room-that-still-didn’t-feel-like-his. He clicked the door shut and, back to the wall, slid down and stared wide eyed into this place that did not welcome him
Now, he stares at the elevator doors, his throat tight as they open to pull him in. And he enters willingly, riding down the castle’s gullet with barely gathered courage.
There is silence for a long time, and when he stares forward for too long, the black walls start to swirl. Dizzy, he looks down to the book in his grasp and tries to keep his hands from shaking.
Puzzlebuilding Masters Vol. 1. He’d stolen it from one of the Rudinns. A lifeline.
The elevator slides to a smooth halt and there’s a chime as the doors open. Immediately, Rouxls feels his gut twist.
He’d been avoiding the prison during his time in the castle so far, and he was unprepared for what greeted him. The air was choked with the smell of mold and mildew, nauseating in its intensity. There is little light and only a single lantern above the elevator doors casts a glow against the stone. Rouxls sits against the wall by the elevator and swallows his discomfort because he knows the king will not look for him here. He cracks open the book and begins reading with the despairing noises of those imprisoned carrying like ghosts’ wails throughout the dungeon.
Chapter 1: Knowing Your Audience
The first mistake made by novice designers is rushing in without first clarifying who the puzzle is being made for. One but first identify who the intended solver for the puzzle is and--
The sound of sobbing that trails river-like down the corridors. Rouxls grits his teeth and ignores it.
-and understand that this is what will influence the final design. One must take into account the intelligence and physiology of the--
And then, something darts across his peripheries. Rouxls perks his head, gaze flicking across the empty expanse of prison, but he does not see anything. The clattering of chains echoes.
He must have imagined it. Focus back to the book, Rouxls flips a page.
Again, a shadow, and Rouxls looks again, faster, but does not catch it. He shuts the book and climbs to his feet.
Had a prisoner escaped somehow? None of the guards would have any reason to skirt about this way. Rouxls glances back at the elevator. The only exit.
Well, he certainly wasn’t going to risk his own safety trying to subdue an escapee.
“I shalt be leaving, and couldeth not be less of a threat to thine escape plot” He tells the empty room, voice shrill and tight in his throat.
He reaches for the elevator button, and there is laughter somewhere in the dark of the prison but it’s… strange. Cheery. Against his better judgement Rouxls looks behind him and--
And standing before him is the king.
...Well, not quite, Rouxls realizes. First off, it’s much too small, but the shape is the same and the colors are the same and that wide grin is the same although it lacks the malice that characterizes the Spade King’s own, and very quickly Rouxls realizes who has stumbled upon him.
“Prince Lancer?” He says, almost disbelieving. He had only heard of the Prince secondhand, and had yet to come across him in his time in Card Castle so far. The king spoke very little of his son, so much so that within his growing anxiety over his new position, Rouxls had quite forgotten he had one.
Lancer puffs out his chest, that silly grin still on his face. “The one! The only!” He strikes a ridiculous looking pose.
Rouxls is dumbfounded, unsure how to proceed. “What art thou doingst down here, young sire? Certainly these awfule dungeons art not a place for a childe.”
Lancer stands back on his heels and crosses his arms over his chest. “My dad said I could be down here if I wanted.”
Rouxls tries to smile placatingly but his teeth grind together. Pesky little cockroach. It would be best not to antagonize the little brat, if only to keep peace with the king.
Lancer uncrosses his arms. “Hey, I recognize you now!” He chirps. “You’re the new puzzle guy! How come you’re down here?”
“I-- well,” Rouxls tightens his hold around the book. “I am doingst important business. With all respects, young sire, thou wouldn’tst understand.”
Lancer seems to light up upon hearing that. “Wow, that’s cool! Can I do important stuff too?”
“No.”
The prince shrinks back. “Ahm, I mean--” Rouxls starts again. That seemed to really upset him, and Rouxls doesn’t want to be responsible for making the king’s cherished son upset. “Thou may… help… by…” He glances around. “Thou must… c-count! Yes, counteth the prisoners, young sire, and report thine findings to me.”
Dim witted insect that he is, the prince gives a thumbs up. “Got it! You won’t be disappointed, puzzle guy!”
Puzzle guy???
“Then I shalt leave thou to thine work.” Rouxls folds into the briefest bow he can manage before pressing the elevator button and stepping inside.
“Bye!” Lancer shouts through the gap as the doors close.
The lift jerks into motion, rising up back to the ground floor, and Rouxls puts a hand to his head, blowing out a sigh.
This job was going to be the death of him.