by Kaden Reed
That seemed like a tall tale, but the odd thing was, no one we were able to talk to actually knew anyone that has failed the trials. That fact sends shivers down my spine anytime I dwell on it.
I collected the plates and mugs from our breakfast and cleaned them. Then placed them next to the kitchen sink to dry. I figured that this place was already falling apart so anyone that came to live here after we left would already have enough to worry about. I didn’t want our dirty dishes to be the straw that broke their backs.
Grabbing the small bags that we had already packed with the few personal possessions we were allowed to bring with us, we swung them over our shoulders and walked out of the back door of our apartment for the very last time. Taking a moment to palm the stone that activated the locks on all of the doors and windows, we walked down the stairs towards the street below.
We only saw a few people that were walking about this early in the morning. Most of them had their heads down and seemed to be dragging their feet, likely either returning home from the celebrations last night or still trying to recover from them.
After a few blocks of walking, we hung a left down a street that was packed with vendors, although only a handful were open. Seeing the large purple and gold banner, with the words ‘Vikram’s Goods’ emblazoned on it, which marked the stand we were looking for, Marty waved at the man behind the counter, “hey Vik! You ever take a day off?”
The large dark-skinned elderly man was dressed in fine silks with light gold filigree along the edges and running down the sleeves of his long tunic. A small red hat sat atop his gray head as he bobbed it up and down when he recognized us coming down the street, “Marty and Afton, good friends! Vik doesn’t have any work for you today. Perhaps some other merchants may need a hand, after the celebrating that took place last night. Vik doesn’t doubt many will be too sore to do much lifting today!”
Vikram was the source of most of the income that I was able to provide by doing labor in the market. He usually always had something I could fetch or arrange for him and he paid decently enough. “Sorry Vik, we aren’t here looking for work today,” I beamed at him, “we are on our way to the Trials.”
His face seemed to freeze at the news then he broke into a smile. Clapping his hands, he gave a shout into the air, “oh by the Dungeons! This is marvelous news!” Vik waved at us to come closer and placed two cups on his stand and began filling them with a viscous dark liquid. He gestured for us to take the two cups as he finished pouring the thick liquid and then pulled out two large muffins, each the size of our fists, wrapped in a thin piece of cloth.
Vikram’s goods smelled and looked so good, I had always wanted to try them, but they were so out of our price range, I never could justify going hungry for a week just to sample a muffin. Today was a special day though, if the rumors were true, it wouldn’t matter if we saved extra coin, we would either be Khanri, or dead.
Making my decision, I fished out two silver coins and placed them on the counter for Vik to collect, “I have always wanted to try your wares,” I quietly said in reverence as I held the muffin up to my nose and inhaled deeply. The sweet smell of buttery goodness, with a hint of cinnamon, was like an aphrodisiac. I greedily started stuffing my face with the divine pastry and only paused long enough to sip the thick coffee, in between bites.
“You know what is said about the Trials, yes?” Vikram asked as the gremlins in our stomachs were temporarily sated and our eating visibly slowed.
Marty nodded at him and managed to say around the food still in his mouth, “yuppers. The next time you see us we will officially be Khanri, though. We aren’t going to fail.”
“Oh, good little friend! I do not like the idea of you passing on,” the large dark-skinned man held his hands to his chest, “and you know how tremulous Vik’s heart is already. You both must become mighty Khanri, so Vik will not have to lament openly for the cruelty of this world.”
I placed the empty piece of cloth, which once held a delicious muffin, on his stand and briefly considered getting another. Deciding against it, I gulped the last of the thick coffee and set the mug down next to the cloth, “thank you Vik. You were always a kind and generous man to us. I doubt you needed your produce sorted two or three times a day,” I couldn’t help but smile at the memory, “but you are a large reason that we didn’t go hungry.”
Vikram smiled at my words and bobbed his head in acknowledgment, “it may not seem so now but Vikram knows what it feels like to be young and hungry,” he looked up into the early morning sky, “you both worked hard and never complained about the tasks nor did you ask for anything more than what you were paid. Vik thinks that an attitude like that will serve you well as a Khanri.”
“Thanks again Vik. We will never forget you, but we should be going though. We don’t want to miss the trolley to the center of town,” I said while I looked to the sky to gauge the time of day.
“Go and become marvelous Khanri my young friends,” Vik reached over his stand and clamped his large hands on both of our shoulders. Squeezing, he continued, “serve Akashi well and come back to Vik someday and tell him of all your adventures.” We both swore we would, and Vik released us, then turned his back to us and started sorting through boxes, getting ready for the day.
When Marty and I reached the end of the market road, I turned around and searched the crowd. Finding Vik’s stand in the distance, I could see him slumped over a crate with his head in his hands. The sight disturbed me enough that I turned to Marty, “I think something might be wrong with Vik. Should we go back and see if he is okay?”
Marty turned around and saw the elderly man, “yeah, I’m not sure what that is about,” he said in a somber tone, “but we can’t. The trolley is almost here so we need to hurry. I’m sure that tough old man will be okay.”
Sighing in regret at having to leave a friend in obvious distress, I nodded my acknowledgment and we both started jogging to our destination. Our jog quickly turned into a sprint when we saw the trolley round the corner up ahead, and we had over a block still to go.
Racing to get to our stop, we arrived at the sign for the public trolley and palmed the stone that lit the light at the top of the pole that would signal to the conductor that riders wanted to board. While we were still trying to catch our breath, the trolley glided to a stop in front of us, tossing five coppers each into the collection bin, we climbed aboard and found a couple of seats.
Looking around as I sat down, I only noticed a couple of other passengers on the trolley, sleeping off the night’s excess in the back rows of seats. Realizing that most of the city would probably be doing something similar after a night like last night, I leaned against the wall of the trolley and gazed out the window.
The sun had climbed over the buildings in the east, which were casting long shadows across the street as we passed by. The various structures progressively got larger, with ever increasing ornamentation and decorations, the closer we got to the center of the city. When the trolley eventually let us out at our desired stop, we were surrounded by buildings that stretched ten stories or more, into the sky.
“Only a few blocks more,” Marty said as he stood looking around at the buildings, “we are almost there.” Turning down the street we started walking, winding our way through the maze of buildings towards the aboveground entrance to the Akashi Dungeon.
When we rounded the last corner and the Akashi Dungeon Compound came into view, we both stopped to take in the sight. The only visible parts of the larger Dungeon were the various administration buildings, which were surrounded by a wall that was about ten yards high. In school we were taught that the Akashi Dungeon actually stretched for miles under the ground horizontally. Basements were exceptionally rare to find in the city, since most structures were above the underground territory the Dungeon had claimed.
The buildings surrounding the compound dwarfed the smaller two- or three-story buildings that were marked for the Akashi administration and support personnel. Old man
Brig told us that all of the Khanri lived inside of the Dungeon below ground and the structures visible were only used for the supporting business that needed to be conducted with people that were not Khanri.
My heart started racing as I gazed at the structures and only increased its pounding rhythm as we crossed the street on our way to join the line at the entrance into the compound. When we neared the gate, we could see that two Khanri were checking all of the traffic before allowing access into the Compound. One was a tall muscular man with bright blue hair and the other was a thin wiry woman with such a dark shade of black hair that it must have been unnatural. A couple of donkey carts laden with produce and sacks of other perishable goods, were interspersed with smaller rickshaws stacked to bursting with various items that seemed to range from food stuffs to common household cleaning supplies, were in line ahead of us.
Although there were vehicles that were powered by magical energy, instead of by humans or animals, the enormous amount of chargestones that were necessary to power one proved to be prohibitive. Only the richest families could afford to own an Aero Urban Transport Operational System, or as some people were referring to them, AUTOS.
This was the first time I’ve been to the Compound this early in the day. Seeing the steady stream of vendors with their carts lining up behind us made me realize that it must take a veritable army of laborers to provide for the daily upkeep of the Khanri. Peering a little closer at the various people that were in line, I couldn’t make out anyone that seemed to be without goods to deliver, like myself and Marty. No one here stood out like they were intending to take part in the Trials.
We waited in line for close to half an hour although, with our nerves getting the best of us, if someone told me it was actually half the day, I would have believed them. As we neared the two Khanri checking everyone, the muscular guy that appeared to be in his early twenties, with blue hair that hung to his shoulders, waved for us to come over, “you two invited to take the Trials?”
“Yes sir,” I was pleased that my voice didn’t shake as much as I thought it would, “are we that obvious?”
“Drop the sir, my name is Johan. And it is extremely obvious. All of you new Kits are about as jittery as a Kinder binging on Ashonian coffee. Here, I’m going to place a binding-stone on your forearm,” he indicated the two purple stones that he pulled out of a pouch on his waist, “these runestones will prohibit your access to anywhere you shouldn’t be in, until you are full Khanri of course.”
He gestured for Marty to reach out his arm. Once his arm was fully extended, Johan touched one of the stones to Marty’s right forearm. When it made contact, it flashed a brilliant purple and filaments could be seen spreading under his skin, “the stone will extend small veins of magic throughout your body. When it is completed, if you intend to, or try to access an area that is off limits, this will send impulses through your nervous system that your mind will interpret as an omnipresent feeling of dread.”
He gestured for my arm next, “if you ignore the feeling it will make it progressively harder and harder for you to move your limbs. It will eventually paralyze you completely if you continue to persist,” I held out my arm and the stone flared, then purple lines could be seen radiating under my skin. They were accompanied by a sensation of something cool swimming up my arm and then spreading throughout my body, which made me shiver involuntarily.
“I’ve only heard of that happening once because you have to be really dense upstairs,” he tapped his head with the purple stone he was still holding, “to ignore one of these things.”
“What happens if you become paralyzed?” I asked with only a hint of fear, “how can it tell what we intend to do? Is this stuff sentient or something?”
“To answer your first question, you die,” he gave a couple of seconds for that to sink in and then started laughing, “just kidding. I love screwing with you aspiring Kits. Anyways, it just freezes you in place and notifies the nearest squad of Khanri of your whereabouts. I will say this though, you will be scrutinized heavily and probably thrown out of the Trials if this happens to you. We take security seriously here, so only go where Kits are allowed, got it?”
We both nodded our understanding, so he continued, “as for your latter questions, they are not what anyone would call sentient. They can’t have a conversation with you, and they can’t make decisions on their own,” he waved at the compound behind him, “you see all of this? This is the epicenter of all of the magical energy in this region of the world.”
“The energy flows to here from miles around, so this entire area is flooded. Everything you see behind me has been created by the Dungeon.” he tapped where the stone was placed on my arm, “each of the stones are calibrated to give off a certain magical signature. If you wander into an area that is off limits to you, the failsafe embedded within what was placed in you, will activate and it will prevent you from going any further. The corridors are also color coded to match your access level. Since these are purple stones, any corridor that has a purple mark on it will allow you wannabe Kits to pass.”
We were both so thrilled at getting actual details as to how the Compound worked, Johan had our complete and undivided attention. Marty asked Johan, “you keep mentioning Kits. What is a Kit?”
Laughing at his question, he answered, “a Kit is what the Shokari call their little mewling babies. Anyways, neither of you have earned the right to be called a Kit yet. I call all the people that come through here to take the Trials aspiring Kits. Though, maybe it’s for good luck so you can pass the Trials. Maybe it’s just because I developed the habit over the last couple of decades,” he shrugged before continuing, “if you pass the Trials then you might not be totally worthless.”
“All of the vendors received black stones, why are ours purple?” Marty chimed in from beside me.
“Black and purple are about the same access level,” he responded while taking a black stone out of another pouch on his belt, “the black stone will let you into the service corridors in the Compound while the purple won’t. However, the purple will allow you into the various areas that are reserved for the Trials, which you can’t access with a black stone. Got it?” When both of us nodded our heads in confirmation, he continued, “alright. Since you both are here to take the Trials. Go through the entrance over there,” he turned and pointed at one of the closer two-story buildings, “and talk to Pam, she will get you sorted out from there.”
We thanked him and hurried off to the designated area. When we neared the door, the glass started opening inward for us to pass automatically. We both slowed down and watched the door swing all the way open, a little amazed that magical energy was being used just to open a door. Although stones were in abundance in Glasden, only the truly rich could afford to squander such chargestones on something as mundane as opening a door. Such a casual display of wealth hinted at what wonders we may find deeper in the Dungeon.
When we walked inside, our contact was easy to spot since she was the only other person in the room. Pam was wearing what looked like a light pink collared button-up shirt with a slightly darker pink buttoned sweater. Her head full of brown curls bounced as she looked up and aimed a smile at us as we timidly walked through the door. Sitting on a stool behind a desk that was elevated to chest height, she called to us, “Afton Price and Marty Reddell. I see you are here to attempt the Trials. How exciting! Come over here so I can record your information.”
We both walked forwards and stood in front of her desk. I hesitantly asked, “how did you know who we were and that we were here for the Trials?”
“Oh, that’s right. You would think that after working with so many hopeful Kits, I would be a little more mindful of my manners,” she looked up at me and perhaps seeing the sweat beading up on my forehead, gave me a sympathetic smile, “it’s okay sweetie, I have access to information that only someone that has undergone the Trials can possess. Once you complete them, everything will be explained to you.”
“Thanks
,” I smiled back at her.
“Now both of you place your right hands on the desk, palms down,” she gestured to the space in front of her.
When I placed my hand down in the designated area my body stiffened in response. It was the briefest of sensations, but it felt like every muscle in my body went temporarily immobile and locked into place. The sensation passed so quickly that I wasn’t even sure I registered it correctly or if it was just all in my head.
Marty placed his palm on the desk a couple of seconds after mine and although I was watching him for any signs of something odd, he didn’t seem to react at all.
“We are good to go here,” Pam smiled at both of us and pointed into a corridor leading out of the room to her right, “go through those doors and follow the purple line in the floor to your holding area. You will have a brief introduction and then the Trials will begin. Good luck!”
We said our thanks to Pam and made our way through the designated door, Marty a half-step behind me. After ensuring that there was no visible mark or injury to my hand, I quietly asked Marty, “hey did you feel anything odd when you placed your hand on the desk?”
Marty glanced at me curiously then responded, “nope. All I felt was the desk. I have absolutely no clue as to what all of that was about.”
“You didn’t feel anything like an electric jolt or something like all of your muscles went temporarily rigid for half of a second?” Doubt over the whole thing was starting to creep into my mind.
“No, I didn’t feel anything like that,” Marty slowed his pace and asked me with concern, “are you okay man?”
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, “yeah I’m fine. It was probably nothing. I’m just nervous about the Trials.”
“No problemo, Afton,” he reached up and patted my arm, “we have some time so let’s just take it slow and enjoy the wonderful scenery,” he waved his arms to encompass the drab gray stone walls of the corridor we were walking through, which were free of any ornamentation or windows.