The marketplace of Azmare buzzed with traders haggling over rare summoning cards. Elemental magic crackled in the air as warriors and summoners alike sought the next powerful addition to their decks. But in the farthest corner of the market, hidden behind a tattered stall, an old man sat with a single card placed before him.
It was unlike any card I had ever seen. The edges shimmered, shifting between gold and shadow, as if undecided on its own nature. The artwork was blurred, the name unreadable. And yet, I felt drawn to it.
"That card," I asked, barely above a whisper. "What is it?"
The old man grinned, revealing teeth like shattered porcelain. "A forgotten summon," he rasped. "A creature neither living nor dead. It chooses its wielder. And once played… it can never be unplayed."
A chill ran down my spine. I had spent years mastering the art of summoning, strategizing with the finest Splinters, bending mana to my will. But this… this was something different.
"What happens if I use it?"
His grin widened. "No one knows. The last to try was never seen again."
Silence settled between us. The marketplace seemed distant now, the world narrowing to the space between my fingers and the mysterious card. Against all reason, I reached for it.
The moment my skin touched its surface, the world shifted.
The air grew heavy, pressing against my chest. My deck ignited with an eerie glow as the unknown card forced itself to the top. My summoner’s circle darkened, mana twisting unnaturally as the battlefield materialized. My opponent—a faceless figure clad in swirling mist—had no name.
I had no choice but to play.
With trembling hands, I laid the card down.
The battlefield screamed.
Shadows erupted from the ground, twisting into a form I could barely comprehend. It was everything and nothing—a beast with no face, no limbs, only a hunger that could not be satisfied. It did not wait for my command.
It consumed.
The faceless opponent never reacted. Never moved. It simply faded, erased from existence.
And then, the hunger turned toward me.
The card was still in my hand, but now my name was etched into its surface. My reflection in its shifting glow was… changing.
The last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me was the old man’s voice.
"A summon must always have a master."
Then, silence.
And a new stall appeared in the corner of the market.
With a single, cursed card placed before it.
Would you pick it up?
