Chapter Text
The Golden Grounds was a hotspot for tourists.
Being one of the greatest hosts in the Kingdom lands for competitions with fantastical prizes by their strange Grant Fountain, plus the difficulty that made those rewards tenfold was certainly an attention-grabber.
It was also a HUGE joint hub for stops, being a temporary bar hoster and “party town” as it has been called through its notorious wines and drunks.
But one couldn’t deny its beauty, sand cascading down like waterfalls, dripping into pretty crystals that held their water. Surplus of buildings lining the back walls of the circular place in measures one could have mistaken for failed architecture.
It never failed its purpose, though. Housing and a place for her passions.
That’s another little quirk of this place that Brightle, despite its beauty, found concern in though; No proper water sources.
This left them very frugal in how they used it, limiting their intake for an array of necessities that left the place as dry as the sand that barricaded the town.
The amount of deaths from dehydration alone could rival that of a small city.
Which is ironic since it’s basically a bar hotspot. She couldn’t understand the irony. She surmised that, despite its crumbling survival rate, letting loose was one way to wash the worries away.
Granted, they had to be selective.
Most of its resources are outsourced through other kingdoms, trades being a godsend for those kind enough to take their well-brewed alcohol.
Even with its minuscule population, what comes with minimal resources and food comes some pretty creative alternatives.
And it seems like the Broccoli Kingdom specifically took a liking to the Blackberry Wish Wine, as most of their food and extra water was graciously gifted through it.
But nonetheless, that was kept under wraps with their high ratings, surprisingly, making tourism quite a popular activity. At least for short stays.
As of now, walking into one of the local pubs hoping for a quick drink, one tourist caught her eye.
And much too fantastical for her liking!
From where she stood in the entrance, a light lavender glow emitted from a few cards on the counter, lined up in a neat row with intricate patterns on its back, almost looking like the frame of a mirror.
And in front, talking away to the bartender, Wolfie, whom she’s known since she was a little wick, was a die, odd garments and wide brimmed hat definitely not suited for the hot weather and dusty sand.
“I can guarantee that I can tell what card you picked!”
Immediately Brightle was in for a show.
“That right? Last time someone did that the only card they got was a dead debit card trying to sleuth. Don’t be pulling some shit now.”
Brightle had to hold back a smirk.
Magicians and show runners were often seen as sleazy, using sleight of hand as a way to garner goods or one’s riches without much effort or creativity.
She couldn’t help but continue to watch, though.
“Why on earth would I do that? Truly! Just watch-“
With lifting a hand, one of the pips on his head glowed, a small light in an otherwise dim place with its quiet air.
He circled his hand above the cards, each one spinning in concordance, a small bit of flare to a theatric that’s been seen many times before.
Soon they quickly stopped spinning, Snap! went his fingers, and although she was unable to see his face, she could tell he was smiling.
Probably.
The die tilted his head, a small pause, earning a sly smile from the wolf bartender.
The die cocked his head, one hand shuffling the cards as they faced away from him, doing little dances as he thought briefly.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your-“
“You switched.”
.
“What.”
Picking up one of the cards, her intrigue a little caught (unfortunately), he fanned it a few times, spinning it-
And seeing the bar tender’s eyes as it was presented widen a smidge when he flipped over the card certainly caught her by surprise more than she wanted to admit.
“I know this isn’t the most impressive trick, but I can tell you for certain that your card is now the Ace of Spades.”
“Wh- No, wrong- it’s the Diamonds-“
“Was the diamonds! 7 of Diamonds to be exact.”
The guy stuttered a bit, caught off guard by the very specific guess without struggle.
And at that Brightle couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, seeing that smugness come out like so many others.
Not that it wasn’t strange he was able to guess so easily.
She’s seen enough little magic shows to know when one is just trying to be impressive for a quick buck but-
With a sigh, not wanting this poor bartender to experience another attempted swindle by simple tricks, she began making her way up to the dice man, filing a hand through her flame and grabbing an ember.
Only way to get it through their heads is to make ‘em a fool.
Probably not the best decision but I don’t wanna hear all this.
“Eeeeyyyyy budddyyyyyyy-“
A fast FWOOSH! Zoomed past in a blur before any other words could be said, the bright orange ember that laid against her hand slamming against the counter and onto one of his cards, its body becoming encased in a flame.
“Brightle-!” The black wolf called, but it was much too late.
Expecting a yell or a fist to the face, she stepped back with her other hand looming over her flame for another spitfire.
But within a blink of an eye, barely being able to process the movements, the die quickly swiped a hand over the aflame card. Brightle nearly choking on air as sparks flew, its colors turning from yellows, pinks, and then to reds, a shape emerging into the air.
It took less than a few seconds, the previous spark now folding into neat layers that splayed upwards.
He turned her flames into a deep ruby red rose.
His smiled. Wobbly. But smiled.
This
This motherfucker really used HER flame for a burning rose trick!
Worst part
He didn’t even look phased.
But entertained.
He continued to stare for a few more moments before becoming aware again, shifting his eyes swiftly to the side and swiped the rose out of existence in a puff of smoke.
She was expecting a glass to be thrown his way, knowing magician history with the town-
But was met with something worse.
For her.
“Ha-HA!” A barked laugh cut through the air, causing the candle to blink several times before hearing a few more disjointed laughs at the expense of her failed attempt of dismantling the guy’s performance.
A small heat quickly trickled into her cheeks, trying to not look at the crowd and just going back to her original goal.
Why did she even start it??? I mean, she DID know but- it was-
It seemed as though the laughter caught up to the die, as his entertained smile shifted to one of a frown.
“Oh- I- I didn’t mean for that to happen-“
Just like her hot flame and heated cheeks, her tongue became sharp, yoinking the singed card and examining it as she spoke, avoiding the bar room’s stares.
“Don’t. bother.”
The damn thing certainly felt like a card, but it was like it got roasted over a fire than set ablaze like it was a minute ago.
It was reversing the damage.
It was almost mesmerizing to watch-
The scoff that bubbled from her throat certainly made the impression.
“Pretty smart choice to bring actual magic like this here. Bound to get robbed.”
“Pardon?”
“Have you seen yourself? You look like you came from a mansion.” Most likely rich or something.
“Ah- uhm-“
“Brightle, knock it off.” Wolfie chastised, the eye roll from the candle that followed soon after was inevitable.
But for some
Weird reason
This die
Didn’t seem phased.
Although did look between her and the bartender with a slight inquisitive expression.
Brightle sighed, running a hand through her flame once more as she tossed his card back to him, the bastard catching it between two fingers and slotted it between his deck.
“Ugh, I don’t even want the drink anymore.”
Wolfie was about to mouth something but his snout snapped shut with the glare Brightle threw his way, which was returned in grace.
But right on time, the stool by which the candle stood by scraped across the ground, as if demanding attention despite the raised shoulders the die possessed.
“I should- probably take my leave.”
Finally.
…
Should probably feel bad about that.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out~”
The die sighed, fwip!ping a few cards between his fingers once more, a small train of a figure eight following its path before he snapped with his other finger-
-and they were gone.
“Hope your future endeavors are within your favor.”
Brightle couldn’t help but watch him go, hands clasped behind his back as if practiced.
She had to shake her head hard to get out of that stupor, turning back around for a normal conversation-
Until she felt a tug beneath her melting wax, immediately grabbing for it and pulled-
She nearly threw the thing at Wolfie in a whole arsenal of emotions but held back, white-knuckling it instead.
The Ace of Diamonds.
What the hell does that mean?