The Summoner stood at the doors of the Collector’s Palace. Each door was a giant inky black panel of cosmic power, but tiny in comparison to the towering building itself, which was an elegant mass of purple and gold spikes and spires. Amazed by the vastness of the palace, the Summoner stepped forward.
The doors dissolved as they stepped near. The panels vanished seemingly on their own. The Summoner tentatively entered the palace.
The interior was amazing. There was a massive golden staircase running down the middle. On either side, golden pillars shot upward. The roof was just space, stars twinkling within this massive indoor space.
“Sir, the Summoner has arrived,” a man said, stepping into the light from behind the grand staircase. He wore a faded purple robe with a wide farmer’s hat. The first thing the Summoner noticed however, was his eyes. His tired eyes told many stories.
“You think I did not notice that?”
The Collector appeared in a flash of light, floating down the golden stairs. Robed in a deep purple cloak, the Collector’s golden accents glimmered in the dark. Their white eyes were piercingly bright in the shadowed void that was the Collector’s body. No part of the Collector was random, with each part of the outfit strikingly precise, as a god would choose to present itself.
The Swordsman (he was a swordsman) turned up to face the Collector, then turned back to the Summoner.
“Summoner, this is the Collector. Collector, the Summoner. Is there anything either of you need?”
The Collector snapped their fingers, and two guards appeared from behind the pillars, at attention.
“I believe we are fine, Swordsman. You may come with us on our tour, if you wish. You might catch a glimpse of your loved one.”
The Swordsman sighed, but joined the party, who were now making their way down a hallway to the side of the staircase. Along the walls, paintings of all shapes and sizes were present. The party kept walking (led by the Collector, followed by the Summoner, with the guards and Swordsman making up the rear) until the Collector stopped by a vault door. The two guards moved to either side at attention.
When everyone came to a full stop, the Collector waved their hand. The intricate gold locks slithered away, leaving only the black panels like the entrance of the palace had. Those slid to the side with another hand gesture, revealing a walkway into a room that could not possibly be real.
The room was massive, lined with rows upon rows of rectangles to no end. The pillars on the side only reinforced how large the room was, with small floating platforms as far as the eye could see.
“I know, massive, is it not?” The Swordsman asked the Summoner. “Every card here. Found by the Collector. Made me gasp the first time I saw it. It’s honestly quite-“
“Choose your next words carefully, or I shall return you to your card as well,” the Collector said, glaring at him.
“-Impressive.”
The group walked down the walkway for a couple minutes before all stepping onto a floating platform. In the middle, a painting of a woman in regency clothing was floating. As they reached a wall, the Summoner noticed the same woman was in the centre of a row of cards.
“Ah! Summoner! I see you’ve noticed Lady Wingfield,” the Collector said as the platform clicked into the wall. “These cards are my most recent acquisitions, the story of them being truly scandalous. Lady Wingfield was swept off her feet after being betrayed and cheated on by her intended husband, the dishonourable Lord Smithwood. What a horrible man. I took great interest in the whole story, and added them to my collection.”
The Summoner nodded. They were starting to piece together this “Collector.” They literally collected souls. For fun.
The Swordsman gestured to a floating painting nearby.
“Over there is-“
“-Something you cannot see, Summoner. Swordsman, you know this!” The Collector said, whipping their head to face them. “Now they’ll want to-“
“IS THIS THE SUMMONER?” A voice boomed.
“Curses, Swordsman.” The Collector muttered, then raised their voice, “Ah, and up there are my esteemed allies, The Powerful Ones.”
“I gave them something quite powerful, in exchange for a piece of their conscience,” the Collector said. “That one is Zuse. The Shaper – and Destroyer – of reality.”
“YET YOU HAVE NOT GIVEN US THE REST OF THE PUZZLE.” Another voice boomed, as The Powerful Ones faded into view, looming over the group. There were two of them, one gold and one silver. The golden one was Zuse, and the sliver one had a name the Summoner somehow knew. Karnn. The Warlord.
The Collector floated up toward them. “In due time, my friends. But now Summoner, I have something special to show you.”
The platform floated up to the Collector, who stepped down onto it. The platform then floated over to another larger one, with an intricate tapestry, this one all shades of blue and centred around a large ball of energy.
“This is the story of Chronapos. It’s beautiful, is it not?”
“Oh no.” The Swordsman muttered and took a step back from the tapestry.
“YOU DARE SHOW THAT TO THEM?” Zuse boomed furiously. “YOU MOCK US, COLLECTOR, SHOWING US THE BETRAYER. ONCE AVERNAX DIES, WE WILL NO LONGER NEED YOU. WE WILL TAKE REVENGE UPON THE BETRAYER.”
The Collector laughed. Clearly, they did this often, even without an audience. The Swordsman’s loud sigh confirmed this.
“Zuse, calm yourself. I am giving a full tour. The Summoner is our ally. They will help you.”
“FINE, BUT REMEMBER OUR…ARRANGEMENT.”
The Collector nodded, as the platform set off again. This time, it went to the walkway, where they walked for a while before they went onto another platform. As this one ascended upwards, the Summoner studied the guards at the rear. They seemed to be made out of energy, as they their armour floated ever so slightly around their dark form, which had little stars sparkling around. Their spears were gold with a purple gem tip, which pulsed faintly. However, the Summoner’s observations were cut short as the platform halted suddenly.
The wall of cards they had stopped in front of had fewer cards than other sections, but the cards were larger, with the souls moving ever so slightly. The Summoner looked over at the Collector, expecting the same slight excitement or boredom of the other sections, but they looked genuinely proud of this wall.
“Over here, we have my chosen. Those with the greatest abilities and stories belong here.”
The Swordsman clearly didn’t like being near these cards. “Yet I have been chosen to be your eternal-“ he muttered, but were cut off by the Collector.
“That’s it. You have gotten on my nerves. Summoner, care for a demonstration of my powers?” The Collector asked.
When the Summoner nodded, the Swordsman sighed and closed his eyes. The Collector’s hands started to glow, as the Swordsman’s chest began to light up. That was probably his soul. His head jerked backward as a burst of energy short out of his chest, enveloping him in the glow.
The Collector twisted their hands as gold bindings circled the Swordsman, then with a snap the Swordsman fell to the floor, now a tiny card. The Collector bent down and picked it up, clearly not noticing the Summoner’s horrified expression as they pocketed the card.
“I really should find a better right hand man.” The Collector said offhandedly.
The group, now without the Swordsman, exited the floating platform and returned to the walkway. As they walked, the Summoner looked at the collection with new interest. It would take them years to look at all the cards from even a few worlds. The scale of this collection was beyond their comprehension.
As they reached the vault door, the Collector went to open it. Turning to the Summoner, they asked the most important question:
“So Summoner. You’ve seen the pieces in play. You’ve seen the stakes. Do you want to play the game?”
It’s your choice, Summoner. Yes or no?
