by Kaden Reed
“You all will be back in action in a couple of minutes,” Thorn sounded pleased with herself.
The pain gradually lessened to the point that I was able to sit up. Looking around I noticed my three other companions doing the same, with their backs to the wall and Thorn sitting on one of her couches, watching us.
My eyes strayed from her to the portrait of the intimidating man above her shoulder. Seeing me admiring the painting she spoke, “that is Raven. He is the other Enigma I spoke of,” her voice trailed off as she turned to gaze at the depiction of the man. “I haven’t seen him in quite a while, but I hear from other Dungeons that he is still out there,” her voice was full of longing and regret.
She shook herself, “Raven is a Shadowdancer. He is a combination of a Shade, a Magus and a Skyguard.” Thorn sat silently staring at the portrait for a long while. She sighed and then looked back in our direction, “Jax already knows this but if you see Raven, it’s probably already too late for you, but run anyways. None of you will be able to stand against him.”
I was confused by her instructions, “why should we run? He is a Khanri isn’t he? We are all on the same side.”
“I suppose you haven’t found out the truth of our situation yet,” she looked at Jax and he subtly shook his head, “I see.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “suffice it to say, we are at war, and have been for a very long time.”
Disbelief colored my voice as I responded, “how are we at war? The history books say we have only known peace ever since we allied with the Dungeons over four hundred years ago.”
Glazmir spoke up, “a few skirmishes aside, the clans haven’t even warred with each other. And we dwarfs be knowing how to go to war!”
“I hate this part of the job,” Thorn’s sigh was weighted by the weariness of sheer exhaustion, “how many Dungeons do you think there are?”
“Seven,” I responded quickly.
“What if I was tell you that there were more than seven Dungeons,” Thorn responded in a tone of speculation, “a lot more?”
“Where are all these Dungeons then?” I couldn’t stop the incredulity from creeping into my question.
Thorn paused as if she was deliberating on how much she was going to tell us. She eventually seemed to come to a conclusion. Puffing out her cheeks in a very undignified way, she slowly let the air out before continuing, “we don’t actually know exactly how many are out there, but there are hundreds of Dungeons. And those are just the ones within reach of the borders of our three nations. There could be thousands beyond the horizon.”
Stunned by the news, Marty slid his back against the wall until he was sitting flat on the ground, “how?”
“The short answer is, we don’t know,” Thorn continued like she was reciting a lecture, “what we do know is that there are only seven Dungeons that are friendly to the civilized races. The vast majority of the Dungeons are feral. As far as we can determine, they have the base intelligence of an animal. They fight each other for resources as much as they fight us. However, we have identified at least four Dungeons that seem to be intelligent. Intelligent enough that they have formed an alliance of sorts, with at least one of those Dungeons possessing Khanri of their own.”
“There are foreign Khanri?” I couldn’t wrap my head around this revelation, “from another Dungeon? Is there another nation of people out there, or something?”
“I might as well start from the beginning,” Thorn rested her head back against the cushions of the couch she was resting on, “the bits and pieces we have been able to get from Akashi and the other Dungeons paint the picture that the Dungeons have always vied for power. Usually this meant by subjugating their neighbors. With only a base intelligence, communication between themselves was relegated to two animals snarling at each other. All they knew was that everything other than themselves were enemies.”
She paused for a brief moment before continuing, “there used to be a few tribes of people beyond the borders of our three nations. A long while ago, one of the Dungeons, desiring more power, figured out how to create the first Khanri.”
She looked at each of us in turn, recognizing that we were failing to see the significance she continued, “you have to understand. Most of the feral Dungeons have creatures that are no more intelligent than a wild beast. Granted, one of the strongest beasts could lay waste to an entire regiment of our nation’s soldiers, such as they are, but do you know what makes a truly deadly enemy?” She paused for a brief heartbeat, “intelligence. The dumbest Khanri can challenge a beast ten times their strength and stand a chance at succeeding. That is what the first Dungeon discovered when it made the first Khanri. An intelligent weapon is a superior weapon.”
“Is that what we are then,” Marty was staring blankly at the floor in front of him, “weapons?”
“Of course,” she looked at Marty, “do you think that you get enhanced speed, strength, magical abilities and training because all you need to do is kill a couple of beasts for their magical energy? All of this,” she waved her hands, encompassing the Dungeon we were in, “just for a family to watch their caster every evening and enjoy refrigerated leftovers?”
Marty shrugged, “I didn’t know what to think. I just didn’t think this was a possibility.”
I cut in, “if we are at war with so many enemies, how come our cities aren’t overrun? If they are that strong, then we wouldn’t be able to stop them.”
“All of the Dungeons are interconnected through magical pathways below ground,” Thorn turned her gaze on me, “these pathways are forever in flux and a connection that was there today, may not be there tomorrow. The feral Dungeons aren’t intelligent enough to make tactical plans. All they usually do is send their monsters through these pathways to steal energy. Every kill they make claims a portion of their victim’s energy for their home Dungeon. As you know, a normal sentient-being does not contain any magical energy. For this reason, all life aboveground is largely ignored because a Dungeon receives no benefit for hunting them.”
“As I was saying before, this changed when the first Khanri was made,” her voice became withdrawn, “to make a Khanri, a sapient-being must die within the Dungeon’s area of influence. When the first Khanri was made, it was forced to lure other people and creatures into its Dungeon’s depths and slaughter them,” she stared blankly for a few moments, as if lost in thought, “we are lucky that only a handful of Dungeons have learned about this.”
“Those that serve foreign Dungeons are called Aku-Khanri, or as we usually refer to them, just Aku. They are anathema to us. Their sole purpose is to kill, steal and destroy all who stand in their Dungeon’s path,” Thorn spoke with vehemence, “chief among them is Raven.”
“How often are we attacked by the Aku-Khanri?” Marty asked softly, as if he was terrified of the answer.
“Every day, every hour, every minute,” Thorn sighed wearily, “we are always fighting back incursions from the other Dungeons. Most of them are feral monsters, but some are Aku. That is a Khanri’s main purpose, to defend the Dungeon, and by extension, our civilization and our families. Every day we hold here prevents the Aku from overrunning this area of the world and enslaving the populations.”
Glazmir beat the ground with his fists, “by the Dungeons, if that doesn’t turn me world upside down.”
Thorn nodded at the dwarf, “it is a lot to take in. It isn’t without merit though. Due to the bargain we have struck with friendly Dungeons such as Akashi, they benefit because they get an intelligent fighting force that defends them and our people benefit with luxuries and advancements in their welfare that wouldn’t be possible any other way. Also, a few small conflicts aside, war between the three nations has become a thing of the past.”
“Aye, I can see how that be true,” Glazmir agreed with Thorn.
“Now, back to the original task,” she studied me through squinting eyes, “what mystery are you?”
Squirming under her scrutiny, “I don’t know if this helps,
but when I was in the Trials Akashi called me his Harbinger.”
“You spoke to Akashi?” She sounded skeptical, “tell me truly now.”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Jax sit up alert, “yeah, I spoke to him. Well, kind of. I mean,” the intense stares of everyone in the room as they turned to look at me had me fidgeting in my seat, “at first, he took the form of Marty. We talked a bit. He told me I had a choice to make, to be a Khanri or not. Obviously, I decided to be one. Then this voice spoke to me, well I suppose it was more like thunder that formed words, while I was dangling from a doorway into a purple tornado thingy and said I was his Harbinger.”
I squirmed some more at the stunned looks everyone in the room was giving me before Thorn saved me, “Dungeons have entirely alien minds. Their lifespans are measured in millennia. It takes days for a normal Khanri to understand a single word. Weeks for a Dungeon to communicate a complete idea. To be able to hear their communication, time needs to be spent in total meditation. I am the strongest Khanri here and I can only speak to him with the help of a rune,” she pulled out of a pouch on her waist a small azure stone with faintly glowing angular runes that spanned its surface. “Even with this, communication is extremely limited and requires an exorbitant amount of energy.” She studied me curiously, “can you speak to Akashi now?”
“I don’t know,” I thought back to the feeling of amusement that I felt when I realized how Akashi had played me for a fool with Niko. That had to have come from Akashi because I definitely was not feeling amused at the time, “maybe?”
“What do you mean by maybe?” Thorn was leaning forward in her seat.
I told her about what happened and about the prank Akashi played on me and everyone in the room had a good laugh at my expense.
“Crusty,” Marty was clutching his belly laughing, “Akashi sounds like my kind of guy! I couldn’t have done better myself.”
Even Thorn flashed a genuine smile before cutting through the mirth, “try to talk to him now.”
“How do I do that?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t know. Just ask him a question, like you are asking me right now,” Thorn made a get-on-with-it gesture with her hands.
“Okay,” I sat for a minute, thinking about what I should say, then realized that I am basically sitting inside of Akashi. Oddly, that seemed to calm me down, “Akashi, what am I?”
It seemed like everyone in the room collectively held their breath, as if that was supposed to help somehow. After a few minutes passed, I frowned, “I don’t think that worked.”
Thorn sat back and bit the tip of her thumb in thought, “Dungeons don’t communicate using language like we do. They are creatures of pure magical energy. It is why it takes a lot of work to understand them when we are in the physical world. I could tell that you weren’t circulating your mana. How about you do that, and instead of just asking a question with your voice, use mana instead.” She held up a hand to forestall my next question, “no, I don’t know how to do that.”
I nodded slowly, it made a kind of sense, but I had no idea how I was supposed to ask a question with mana. I bent forward at my waist and put my head in my hands, sitting in silence while exploring the magical pathways within my body. Following each circuit to its completion. Mapping each route in my mind, I realized that they all began, and ended, with my core. It was a closed-loop system with almost no energy loss and my core was the focal point of all the mana in my body. Casting my thoughts into my core, I tentatively searched for Akashi.
“Finally,” a deep, but melodious voice answered my call, “I was beginning to regret choosing you.”
I was so startled by the voice that sounded like it came from two inches in front of my face, I rocketed my head back away from it. My cry of fear was cut short a split-second later, when I smacked the back of my head against the wall I was resting against a moment before.
Spluttering from the pain of having my skull torn in half, a long sigh rattled inside my skull, “I knew I should have chosen the gnome.”
I felt my consciousness rapidly receding into the abyss and mercifully, blacked out.
Chapter Nine
Classes
“Someone stabs another person to death in the market over a perceived insult, or the people that stood by and watched without interfering - I ask you, which is the greater evil?”
- Akashi on the moral ambiguity of the sapient races
“Get up.”
Floating in the pleasant space between awake and asleep, I heard the call that seemed to be coming from somewhere a long way away.
“I said get up.”
“Go away…” I felt my arms waving around blindly above my body, trying to shoo whatever was annoying me away, “ten more minutes…”
My face erupted in agony as something hard struck me. Blinking rapidly awake, I stared up at Jax’s angry face, “when Thorn gives you an order, you follow it.”
Rubbing my jaw as I sat up, the pain from the back of my head came rushing back to me, stoking my anger, “damn Jax, what the fuck is your issue?”
“You Kits are weak,” Jax seemed to flare in rage in reaction to my anger, “you complain about everything and you are all so-,” spluttering, he yelled blindly in fury.
Thorn let him vent for a while before she put her hand on his arm, “we have been at this for a long time my friend.” He seemed to slowly deflate at her words.
We looked back and forth between Thorn and Jax, not really understanding what was going on.
“It’s hard to see how we used to be. So young. So full of hope.” Jax turned away from the group and walked into another room as she spoke. Watching him go she called to me over her shoulder, “so did you talk to Akashi or are you prone to randomly freak out about nothing?”
Momentarily confused with the abrupt change in topic, it took a couple of seconds for me to remember what happened before nodding, “yeah, I think it was him.”
Resuming her seat on the couch, she eagerly asked, “what did he say?”
Frowning, “he just said,” I cast a furtive glance at my friend Marty and decided not to go into detail, “hi, basically.”
“That isn’t how I remember it,” the deep voice sounded amused.
Ducking my head by reflex again as he startled me, I managed to catch myself before embarrassing myself with a repeat performance. I might be somewhat tougher than I was before, but I don’t want to find the answer to how many times can I slam my head against a wall without causing brain damage.
“He just talked to you, again didn’t he?” She was practically bouncing in her seat in eagerness.
I nodded at her again, not trusting my voice to be steady.
“Tell Thorn that I said forty-two,” the voice had a playful lilt to the words.
Having a voice that no one else could hear talk to you was always a bad thing. As far as I knew, there weren’t any exceptions to that rule, “before I start passing messages around for you like we were in school, are you actually Akashi or am I going insane?” I spoke earnestly at the empty space between Jax and Thorn.
“You know exactly who I am,” the voice got deeper and more menacing as he continued speaking, “you are the only Khanri that has ever seen my true form and lived. Remember that you chose this.” I grabbed my skull as it felt like thunder was rolling through it in waves. “You are mine. You are my Harbinger.”
As the pressure swept through me and left me gasping on the floor, I noticed a hand grasping my arm, “what just happened?”
Looking up at Thorn’s concerned face, “Akashi is an asshole.” I paused, waiting to see if there was going to be any retribution to my defiance and then continued when nothing happened, “yeah, he is a huge asshole.”
Laughing Thorn rested back on her heels, “what was it that Akashi wanted you to tell us?”
“Does the number forty-two mean anything to you?”
She visibly stiffened before responding, “when I was a young Khanri, I thought that the D
ungeons could understand far more than we gave them credit for. I mean, we did manage to form a reasonable pact with a few, but the communication was so basic the true depth of their intelligence was a complete mystery. As a test to see how much they understood, I started to repeat forty-two to myself while going about my daily routine. I figured it was random enough that it wouldn’t come up in everyday life. I even started tapping on the wall forty-two times every night before I went to sleep, thinking that eventually Akashi would find a way to show me he understood.” She got up and walked back over to the couch and sat back down, “I can’t tell you when it turned from an experiment to something that was more akin to a mantra than anything else.” She ran her hands through her hair, “back then I always thought the revelation would come in the form of a number on the wall or something. Not over four hundred years later,” she gestured down at me, “like this.”
At the confirmation, I looked around at the wide-eyed stares of my two companions. The only person in the room that seemed to be unaffected was Jax as he came back to stand next to the couch. I was beginning to wonder what it would take to surprise that man.
Resting my back against the wall, I looked up at Thorn and shrugged, “I’m not sure why he chose me either. Though he keeps calling me his Harbinger, so I suppose it is my class or something.” The thought just hit me that someone just casually dropped on me that they are over four centuries old, and I shrugged it off. But I suppose after being brutally killed twice, having a powerful disembodied voice play practical jokes on you, and the revelation that everything you thought about your world is a lie, talking to someone that is over four-hundred years old is probably the least interesting thing that has happened to me so far.
Thorn sat in thought for a while before startling us all by abruptly asking the room, “of course! He can understand us! Akashi, what is a Harbinger supposed to be?”