Akashi's Will

by Kaden Reed

  Little is known about the various classes that can be granted by Dungeons. The only real knowledge is what everyone can glean from watching the various competitions that the Khanri compete in. What is inferred is there are several base classes, and some seem to be Dungeon specific since only Druids seem to come from the Lunasti’s Dungeon - Selanora. There also seem to be several advanced archetypes, but the details on those are sketchy at best. From what I can tell from watching all the competitions that I have gotten my hands on, the advanced archetypes don’t seem to be inherently more powerful than the base classes. In fact, several of the top teams include, or are entirely made up of, Khanri with only the base classes.

  Despite our civilizations being completely dependent on the Dungeons and the Khanri, the level of secrecy of the organizations has taken on near mythical proportions. Most of the so-called knowledge that was passed around was likely no more than a jumbled collection of rumors, with the exception of what could be worked out while watching the League of Dungeons Championships. Which was only one of the many reasons that the populations of the three nations paused what they were doing to watch the spectacle of the legendary Khanri battle each other in competition.

  “You are right. The other classes generally excel at one or more fields of specialization,” I said haltingly while still running through different scenarios in my mind, “however, I think you may be underestimating the true value of Guardians. They may be average or above average at most things, but their specialization is in having no glaring weaknesses. They are the only class that can go anywhere and do anything. They also join Bulwarks as the best front-line fighters, or tanks as the slang goes.”

  “Have you looked at yourself though,” Marty scanned me up and down with a skeptical look on his face, “you are all noodle arms and chicken legs Afton. I doubt you could even lift a shield high enough to protect your head.”

  “Says the gnome that is barely tall enough to look my belly button straight on,” I screwed up my face in consternation, “I’m confident in my ability to train when I become a Khanri. Unfortunately for you, there really isn’t any hope of you becoming smart enough to handle magic. I wonder if Akashi needs janitors too?”

  “Oh man! I’d feel threatened by your sick burns, but when you flail around with those noodle arms, all chances of intimidation run right out the window,” Marty continued mockingly, “I don’t think Akashi has enough power to make you into an actual warrior! Don’t worry though, I’m sure there will be some sort of job in Administration that you can perform. Maybe Akashi will open a tour group and you can be the guide?” Marty started flailing his arms in the air to accentuate his point. Without watching what he was doing, he yelped in surprise as one of his hands smacked into his soda on the floor, sending it spewing across his cushion. Jumping off his cushion he ran to the kitchen to fetch a towel to clean up the mess.

  I couldn’t help myself from laughing when he caught a bad case of instant karma. I took one look at the stained cushion he was resting on and decided the soda probably didn’t hurt it at all.

  As he was busy wiping up the spilled drink, the realization of the magnitude of the event only two days away hit me suddenly and I couldn’t stop myself from uttering, “Marty, aren’t you a little worried that the rumors about the Trials are true? That if we fail then we die?”

  “Afton, there is no way we are going to fail,” Marty waved his hands in the air to forestall my protests, “besides, it is just rumors. No details about the Trials have ever been confirmed. By the Dungeons, even details about the life of Khanri are barely known.”

  He was right. There is almost nothing known about the life of Khanri or really, anything that happens below the ground surface in a Dungeon, but I couldn’t stop from having a nagging suspicion that something odd was going on. It was likely brought on by the reality that I would be facing the Trials soon and it is making me reevaluate some of the things I had heard over the years. The rumors I had dismissed yesterday all of a sudden, seemed to need to be revisited and require more thought put into them instead of a casual dismissal.

  I looked over at Marty, “There hasn’t been a single person that has come forward and publicly talked about failing the Trials. Now that could mean that no one fails or that the rumors are true - if you fail, you die. This is real now Marty. I don’t want to die.” My voice trailed away at the end when I thought that the worst outcome was if I succeeded and he failed.

  As far back as I can remember, we have been best friends. His parents, with baby Marty in tow, moved to Dor’s Crossing and bought the tavern about a year after I was born. With the tavern directly across the street from my family’s general store, we spent a lot of time playing Khanri and Monsters in the dirt road together between the two buildings. Occasionally we were joined by some of the farmer’s kids when they came into the village to run their errands, but it was usually just us two.

  I had to glance away from meeting his eyes, uncomfortable with the honesty in the emotional realization that the situation was bringing out of me. We haven’t been separated from each other for longer than a couple of days for almost our entire lives. The idea of him dying… I’m just not sure I am ready to face a world without my best friend in it.

  As if he knew what I was thinking about he announced, “you won’t ever have to worry about succeeding without me Afton. The truth is, if I die in the Trials, it means you have been dead for weeks.”

  I tried to keep a serious expression, but when Marty started laughing at his own joke, I couldn’t help but join in.

  Still chuckling he continued, “anyways, here is the real truth as I see it, we have been wanting to be Khanri since we could walk. There is no way a silly rumor is going to prevent me from becoming one. It might be true, or it might not be, either way, we are going to find out together.”

  Sighing a little at the old arguments being repeated but knowing he was right, I agreed, “fair enough. You are right.”

  Marty stood up, “I told old man Brig that I would come and tell him when I got accepted into the Trials.” He started walking to the hallway and grabbed his jacket.

  “You are going to go tonight?” I looked at the clock, “it’s almost 11, he will probably be asleep.”

  “That old man never sleeps,” Marty put on his jacket and yelled over his shoulder, “besides, tomorrow is the championship and I’m definitely not going to miss that! It is either tonight, or never! I have my key so don’t worry about waiting up for me.”

  “Have fun,” I yelled out to him, but I heard the door open and shut before I even finished talking. Sitting alone with my thoughts, I realized that I had a couple of people that I needed to call and tell them the good news too. When we moved out of our little village in the country to the city, both of our families came together to purchase two runestones for us. The caster-stone was undoubtedly the most expensive and most used possession we had. The second was a com-stone, so we could stay in touch with our families back home. We had no idea how difficult it would be to just get by in the city. Jobs being hard to come by, just trying to make rent for our dingy flat and purchase enough food, so we didn’t feel like we were constantly starving, took almost all of our weekly budget. Throw in the chargestones to keep enough power to keep our devices running and we were lucky to have a couple of spare coppers to rub together at the end of the month.

  Picking up the com-stone, I thumbed the activation rune and focused my mind on who I wanted to talk to. After a second, the stone started blinking blue, meaning a connection was attempting to be made. When the stone turned to a solid green a voice spoke to me, “Afton! It’s been a few days! How is my favorite son doing?”

  “I’m your only son mom,” I smiled at her often-repeated joke, “but I’m doing pretty good.”

  “You may be our only son, but that still doesn’t mean you can’t be our favorite,” mom sounded as cheerful as she usually was.

  “How are you and dad doing?” even though it was only about two hours o
f walking to our former village, it had been over a year since Marty and I have been able to go back to Dor’s Crossing to visit our families. The necessity of working almost every day just to survive demanded a lot of sacrifice, “and how is the store doing?”

  “Everything is doing just fine Afton. We just finished watching a show on the caster and are getting ready for bed,” her voice turned a little serious, “it isn’t like you to call this late, is everything alright? Is anything wrong with Marty?”

  I paused for a couple of heartbeats, unsure how to tell my mom about the news. I decided to go with the default option and just blurted it out, “Marty and I just got our acceptance letter for the Khanri Trials mom. They are in two days. We are actually going to be Khanri!”

  The other end of the line was quiet for a long time before I grew concerned enough to speak again, “mom? Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Yes, son, I’m okay. It was just a shock, is all,” mom’s voice sounded distracted at first, but grew more confident as she continued talking, “honestly, your dad and I never really thought you and Marty would become Khanri.” My heart sunk a little at the vote of no confidence I just received from my parents. Probably realizing how what she said could be interpreted she hurriedly continued, “it has nothing to do with you and Marty. It’s just that thousands apply every year and only a handful ever get selected. It was far more likely that you both wouldn’t get your chance.”

  I recovered from the moment of doubt, “if I am being honest too, I really didn’t expect to be chosen either. I really hoped we would, but I never actually expected it. Marty was always the one that walked around with enough confidence about us becoming Khanri that he eventually got me to believe it too.”

  “Oh, Afton,” mom sounded a little emotional, “I am so proud of you! And I know your father will be too, once I tell him. You and Marty are going to live your dreams. I just hope they are everything you both have wanted.”

  Slightly taken by surprise at the obvious emotion in her words, I tried to respond without getting a little emotional myself but failed, “thanks mom. I wouldn’t be here if you and dad hadn’t worked so hard to give me the freedom to try to pursue this. I just hope that I can repay you both one day. When I become a Khanri, maybe I can send you some stones or something to try to make your lives a little easier, so you all don’t have to work so hard.”

  “Oh, no son,” mom sniffled a little, but sounded almost like her usual self, “don’t worry about me and dad. We are going to be just fine. The store isn’t going to make us rich, but it provides for everything we need. You just focus on you. Make sure you and Marty take care of each other. Being a Khanri is dangerous. If you ever get in the Championships, I don’t think I could stand watching either of you getting hurt. Just… just humor your mom and tell me you will be safe?”

  Chuckling I softly told my mom, “I will be as safe as I possibly can be mom, I promise.”

  Sighing mom said, “okay, I think I can live with that. Com us or send us a letter when you pass your Trials!”

  “I promise I will let you know as soon as I can,” sounding a little timid I added, “I’m not sure if Marty is going to remember to let his parents know about the good news so would you mind letting them know?”

  Sighing again mom said, “yeah, I can talk to them tomorrow. You need to tell Marty that he should call his mom more often!”

  Laughing again, “sure, I’ll let him know.”

  “Its late son, go get some sleep. Have fun watching the Championship tomorrow and please, be safe in the Trials! I’m too young to die from a heart attack so don’t do anything stupid!”

  Smiling at the com-stone in my hand, “you got it mom. Love you and tell dad I love him too.”

  Saying she would, the com-stone changed from green to flash red for a second, then went blank. Sighing at the pang of loneliness that hit my stomach every time I got off the phone with my parents, I got up and walked up the rickety stairs towards my bedroom. Between the hours spent anxiously waiting for the letter to arrive, the celebration when we got the news and the loneliness after speaking to my mom, I was feeling emotionally drained. Kicking off my shoes, I skipped the shower and just brushed my teeth and fell into bed. Before I could dwell on the dramatic turn my life was about to take, sleep claimed me, and I blissfully knew no more.

  Chapter Two

  The League of Dungeons Championship

  How the Khanri are able to channel magical spells is a complete mystery. Although, the widely accepted theory assumes that the Khanri have found a way to digest runestones in some way, upon closure inspection of the scant evidence, I don’t see how it could be true. However, I find it curious that not a single Khanri, active or retired, has given a satisfactory answer on the subject.

  - Excerpt from The Rise of the Dungeons, by Raine Royce, University of Glasden Historian

  “Come on Marty,” I yelled over my shoulder as I sprinted down our hallway, “it’s almost time! We are going to miss the opening ceremonies!”

  I paused at the top of the stairs leading down to the first floor of our small apartment when I heard a loud crash, followed by a groan from the room behind me. I started shaking my head and turned around to go help my friend out. When I approached the door, I noticed that it was slightly ajar when a single berry rolled out of the crack and bounced off the toes of my boots.

  I pushed open the door and saw my gnome friend trying to sit up amid a pile of dirty laundry. Various food items were scattered around him like he was the epicenter of a mini explosion, “seriously Marty, I have no idea how you have managed to stay alive this long. You have to be one of the clumsiest people I have ever met.”

  Marty looked up at me when I came in, “well I may be clumsy but at least I’m not ugly, like you,” he grumbled under his breath.

  I could tell by the red blotch on the right side of his face that he would probably have a decent bruise by the end of the day, “so did the floor owe you some gold or was it talking crap about your mom again and you tried to head butt it into submission?”

  “You are such a dick,” he said while trying to throw a smashed berry in my direction, “just hurry up and help me, I don’t want to miss it!”

  Sufficiently chastened about wasting time, I resisted the urge to throw a couple more barbs in my friend’s direction and joined him in chasing down all the little runaway snacks. With the refilled bag in hand, we headed downstairs, skipping the two steps in the middle of the staircase that have been mysteriously missing since we moved in here about four years ago.

  The area of our apartment that we laughingly called our entertainment room, was barely larger than a typical closet. There was just enough room that we could lay on the floor and watch our shows without feeling too claustrophobic. As we fell onto the cushions that served as our only accession to comfort, I couldn’t help but remember the day Marty came home brandishing one, proclaiming it as his latest discovery.

  For most of the past four years we lived here in this small apartment we were only able to find temporary work doing odd jobs around the city. As a result, our funds were nearly non-existent, so we were always on the lookout for ways that we could improve our quality of life without being forced to skip meals. At the time, Marty had just managed to get himself signed up to do janitorial work at night in one of the large ten story buildings that were downtown. It was a hard and under-appreciated job, but it was steady. With consistent work being hard to come by for a couple of people that just moved to town from the rural farm villages, it felt like we had finally started to get ahead in life.

  A couple of months ago, Marty came home after working all night, struggling to carry a cushion that was almost as tall as he was. I will never forget his face as he plunked it down in front of me and, beaming from ear to ear, announced that he found the jackpot.

  The cushion probably started its life as part of a couch, but it was in such a terrible condition that it could barely be called a cushion. It had tufts of feathers p
oking out of the seams, every inch of the fabric was covered in stains and it stunk like rotten vegetables had been stuffed inside of it and allowed to ferment in the sun for a month. Despite all of its obvious faults, we were so thrilled with his find that we ran all the way back to the side of the road that he had found it on, so we could grab the rest of them before anyone else could lay claim to our prize.

  It took us more than a week of cleaning the cushions to get most of the smell out and we had to make do with patching the holes with off-colored swatches of various fabrics. When we were finally finished, we made a feast of all the food we could afford and spent the whole day just lying on the cushions and watching whatever shows were on the Magical Entertainment Network. I can’t even put into words of how proud we were over this simple accomplishment. To call it furniture would be an insult to all of the actual furniture in the world, but it was something that we worked on together and that made it special.

  Once we were settled in, Marty touched the activation stone for the caster low on the wall. “Hey there folks! Thanks for tuning into the coverage of this year’s annual League of Dungeons semifinals,” a balding elderly man stared at us intently from the illuminated picture while gesticulating wildly, “we here at the Magical Entertainment Network are excited to see this year’s action!”

  “Awesome! We haven’t missed anything. Leo is still talking,” Marty squealed in obvious glee.

  The picture slowly zoomed out and a coliseum began to come into focus behind the elderly man. He was dressed in a white suit with lacy frills erupting from his cuffs and his collar, “before we join Sara down on the sand for some close up encounters with the contestants, I’ve been told by my superiors that I need to go over some of the rule changes that have come into effect this year.”

  “As I am sure most of our viewers know, the majority of the rules have remained unchanged since the very beginning of this competition, some four-hundred years ago,” Leo began, “but the Council has brought word that they want to spice things up!”