by Kaden Reed
“Alone? Afton, your mom must not like you much if she skipped this portion of your education,” scratching his chin he continued, “or maybe your mom and my mom got together and decided that I should be the one for them to hang all their hopes on for the future generations.”
I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hard I was working to keep myself from laughing, “yeah, I’m sure that is exactly what happened. Are you going to answer the question or not, half-pint?”
Marty blew a raspberry at me when I called him by the nickname he hated, “such a jackass. Haven’t you figured it out yet? I thought you were supposed to be all smart and stuff,” he was clearly enjoying himself, “anyways, so why do you think that no one was allowed out of the village without being in a group? It’s because if you were alone, you wouldn’t have anyone to trip while running away from a monster.”
The fact that Marty gave every appearance of being completely serious about this ‘rule’, I just couldn’t contain it anymore and started laughing so hard at my friend’s logic that water started leaking out of my eyes. Attempting to speak several times, it took me a bit before I could calm down enough to stutter out, “oh, that was perfect! Did your mom ever actually tell you that?”
Grinning from ear to ear and chuckling at his own brilliance, Marty replied, “nah, my mom is too nice. Now my gramps, on the other hand, was full of wisdom that he liked to share with me when I was little-”
I quickly interjected, “you mean littler, right?”
He continued as if he didn’t hear me, “-he used to say,” his voice got a little gruffer as he was trying to imitate his grandpa, “listen Marty, it is a big world out there for us normal-sized folk,” Marty looked pointedly at me before continuing, “we need to survive anyway we can, ya hear? If you ever come face to face with a dangerous monster, remember that since other folk were built so needlessly large, it will take a monster a long time to eat them. Just make sure you are never alone in the forest. That way you can trip one that you don’t like and scamper on home.”
“He sounds like a real charmer, your gramps,” I have never met anyone in Marty’s family other than his mom and dad, who ran the local inn back in Dor’s Crossing, but Marty always had tales about a dozen other relatives. When we were growing up together, I wondered if he was making up these mysterious additions to his family for some reason. I even confronted him about it one time, but he just pretended like he hadn’t heard me, and I never spoke of it again.
A memory of his family joining mine for dinner to celebrate Summerwine a couple of years ago came unbidden into my mind. His family was jovial during the gathering, laughing and joking while everyone feasted on the meager foodstuffs our families could afford, and the adults partook freely from several bottles wine that were recently bottled - the reason for the holiday.
Everything was normal and we were all having such a good time, but I couldn’t help but notice that whenever his parents looked into each other’s eyes a flash of deep sorrow would cross each other’s face. It was there and gone again before I even had a chance to really acknowledge what I was seeing. It kept nagging at me though, I had only ever seen a look of such grief on the face of the widow McFarley after her husband died suddenly from an illness that burned through him within days.
Late at night, I used to wonder what could have happened to my friend’s family that could cause such pain. I asked my dad about it once, I think I was nine at the time, and he told me something I will never forget, “everyone has secrets son. Secret pleasures and joys, secret shames and, yes, even secret sorrows,” I remembered that he let out a long exhale and sat in silence for a spell before continuing, his voice somber, “you do your friend a disservice by not respecting his privacy.”
I remember that I told my dad, “but I could help him. We could help them, if we knew what was going on, I mean.”
My dad turned to me, his hand engulfing my tiny shoulder, “do you love your friend Marty?”
He continued after I responded, “of course. He is my best friend”
“Do you love his family? Are they good people?” I responded in the affirmative and he continued, “then you already know all you need to know about them to help them son. Just love them and be there for them. To have a true friend is the greatest blessing anyone can bestow on another. Be that true friend for Marty.”
The memory cut through the mirth that I had been feeling like a cold knife. Older now, I know that his family must have been through a tragedy that has scarred them deeply, but I understood what my dad was telling me. I’ll be a true friend and be there when Marty decides that he wants to talk about it in the future.
I quickly changed the subject in an attempt to cover for the pang of sorrow that gripped my heart, “you have so casually trodden on my desired class, for the hundredth time I might add. For such a small guy, you really are a huge prick,” I shook my head in bemusement before adding, “that Amorak Mender, Samantha, was the only reason they won against Kairos.”
“She was pretty badass,” Marty agreed, “and she even had a familiar. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Mender with one.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard of one having a familiar either,” with the successful change in topic, I sighed in thanks for my inner turmoil going unnoticed, “have you reevaluated your preferred class or is Magus still at the top of your list?”
“Hmmm…,” Marty trailed off in thought with his small hand pinching his chin, “on second thought, I’ll need a class that fits my personality traits. Smart, strong, witty, handsome….” He trailed off again, muttering to himself before confidently declaring, “I don’t think there is a class that fits all of me in it. I guess they will just have to make a new one!”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I deadpanned, “I would just throw you into the Mesmer class and call it good. All they do is play with imaginary illusions all day. That sounds like it would fit you perfectly.”
“Blah,” Marty made a disgusted face, “I can’t stand the idea of getting close enough to a monster to smell its body odor. I suppose that I can find a way to be happy with any class I am given, as long as it isn’t melee.”
The picture flashed three times on the wall in rapid succession, dropping our conversation we quickly turned our attention back to the caster, “welcome back to the Dungeon Championships,” Bill said as the twins came into view.
“If you are just joining us, you missed an incredible match,” Bob broke in enthusiastically, “team Amorak was able to pull out a major upset when they defeated team Kairos.”
“That was one of the most entertaining matches I have ever seen,” Bill turned to Bob, “do you think that team Akashi is capable of another upset by defeating Selanora?”
“Probably not Bill,” Bob shuffled the stack of papers sitting in front of him, “Selanora is just too strong of a team and absolutely dominated their quarterfinals match.”
“The team from Akashi did struggle in their quarterfinals match,” Bill looked back at the caster, “we will just have to wait and see what ends up happening.”
The picture on the wall changed to show three figures entering the arena, “looks like the second match is starting,” Marty said while plopping back down onto his cushions, snack bag in hand.
“The Selanora team from the nation of Thieria is entering the arena,” Bob announced while the picture was focused on all three members.
“The team captain is none other than the elvish Prince himself, Vorpal,” Bill said with dramatic emphasis on his title as the picture changed to show the tall ebony skinned elf. He was garbed in glittering chain mail from his neck to below his waist with a metal banded jerkin around his torso and arms. A large spear was gripped in both of his hands, “he specializes in phasing in and out of this reality and can teleport short distances.”
“He has one of the most unique magics that has ever been awarded by a Dungeon,” Bob added, “the lady on his right is the elvish Madame Treya, the master o
f Vorpal’s household guard.”
The picture shifted to show the petite and figure of his household guard. She was garbed in a flowing white silk robe that appeared to be sheer enough to see through, but all the eyes could glimpse were quick flashes of her dark bare skin as it undulated with her slightest movement.
“Treya’s ability to call on the elementals themselves, and summon them to her side, is going to be a game changer. Her creatures will give her team a numerical advantage that will be hard to counter,” Bill finished.
The picture changed to show a small stocky man with a beard that was so long he tucked the bottom portion into his belt. Thick unadorned plate mail encased him from head to foot and he had a large double-bladed axe resting on one shoulder, “last but not least is the dwarven berserker, Gildashot!” Bob exclaimed.
“The berserker’s ability to ignore wounds and cleave through most of his enemies like they were wet parchment, serves this team well,” Bill enthusiastically described, “he is the in-your-face rage machine that can only be stopped with immense difficulty.”
“As unlikely as it is to have the two elves joined by a dwarf on the same team,” Bob added, “they work remarkably well together and makes them a major contender to win the championship.”
“The team from Akashi is now entering the arena,” Bill said while the picture changed to show three figures stepping onto the sand.
“Akashi!” Marty and I cheered in unison, seeing the Trinity displayed on the picture.
“Team Akashi is made up of Shokari, which are only found natively in their tribal villages in Glasden. Their team captain is Dhurin,” Bob said as the picture changed to focus on a tall broad-shouldered feline figure. His fur was a mix of white and black blotches from head to tail. He wore banded ring mail that covered his entire body, with an open-faced helm on his head that had two holes cut out of the top so his ears could poke through. A very long thin curved blade was sheathed on his side.
“Dhurin was granted one of the rarest archetypes in the history of the Dungeons. He is a Kensai which focuses on sword strikes and turning his life force into defensive and offensive abilities,” Bill concluded, “the last Kensai retired from being a Khanri about sixty years ago.”
“I am really looking forward to seeing him wielding his katana today,” Bob went on, “to his right is the peculiar Magus Amani.”
The picture shifted to a short and stocky feline. His shaggy fur was predominantly gray with streaks of black, gold and silver speckled throughout. He was wearing a loose flowing brown robe with the hood pulled up just enough to shade his face. A long walking staff was clutched in one hand.
“I don’t think we have ever seen a Magus with more tricks up his sleeve than Amani,” Bill interjected, “he always seems to have new spells to unleash. I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us today!”
The picture changed to show a Shokari that was slightly smaller than the other two. “Shino the Shade is the last member of the Akashi team,” Bob announced.
Shino’s fur was all black except for a white patch of fur in the shape of a diamond in the middle of his chest. His only visible armor was a thin leather webbing that crisscrossed his body, on which were tied various weapons and tools that covered every inch of visible space.
“Shino is one of the deadliest Khanri to have ever come from the Akashi Dungeon,” Bill continued, “he is the epitome of the silent assassin. If any of you Khanri hopefuls are watching and desire to enter into the assassin archetype, I would say watch Shino, but I doubt any of us will find him after the match starts unless he wants us too.”
“Those guys are such badasses!” Marty cheered next to me.
The picture zoomed out to show both teams on opposite sides of the arena. All four pillars were enveloped with a blue light that began rhythmically pulsing. After five pulses of blue light the pillars erupted in a brilliant flash of green light, “and the second match of the semifinals has begun,” Bob cheered.
Right as the green light flashed, Amani threw one hand into the air and his sing-song voice trilled a word of power. Lightning arced from the sky and struck all three members of the Selanora team, blasting them back several yards to land in a crumpled heap.
Shino didn’t even appear to move but just seemed to disappear while standing in the same spot and Dhurin started walking forward, towards the still forms of the Selanora team.
“Did he just win the match with one spell?” Bill spoke to the fans with a stunned voice, “are any of the Selanora members still alive?”
The picture focused on the unmoving members of the Selanora team. When Gildashot coughed violently and started gasping for air, a loud cheer erupted from the onlookers.
The dwarf fought to get upright onto his knees, still visibly shaken and gasping for breath. He heard the crowd chanting his name and he waved with one hand to them as he lurched to his feet.
Dhurin stood still and assumed a combat stance when he reached the middle of the arena, clearly giving Gildashot time to get himself under control before facing him. Gildashot met eyes with Dhurin, nodded his approval and hefted his axe on his shoulder as he walked to meet him.
After taking six steps, his feet stumbled and Gildashot fell to the sand, his hands jerking to the back of his neck. The crowd collectively gasped in surprise at the sight of a black dagger sticking out of the base of Gildashot’s neck.
When the dwarf stopped moving, Shino became visible and pulled his dagger out, a thick stream of blood flowed out of the gaping hole. He looked back at the rest of the members of the Selanora team where they still laid on the sand. Shrugging, Shino walked over to them and quickly stabbed both through an eye. He paused just long enough to wipe the blood off on a piece of Madam Treya’s sheer robe, staining the white cloth crimson, then straightened and sheathed the blade in one efficient motion.
Dhurin sheathed his sword and started shaking his head at Shino as he walked up to meet him. The picture showed Dhurin talking to Shino as they turned to leave the arena. The stunned crowd suddenly erupted in cheering at the display of power they just witnessed. Shouts of, “Akashi!” and “the Trinity!” could be heard from the stands.
Amani was turning in one spot looking at the adoring fans, when he threw up one hand and brilliant gold streamers erupted into the air. The streamers zoomed around the arena showering the fans with gold dust, which goaded the crowd to cheer even louder.
When Dhurin and Shino reached Amani, he bowed deeply to the crowd and then turned and joined them in exiting the arena, his bushy tail swishing back and forth behind him in obvious pleasure.
“By the Dungeons, I knew they were powerful but come on,” I yelled at the picture, “that was amazing!”
“They are my heroes!” Marty joined in while he was jumping around on his cushion, “the Trinity is the most badass group there ever was!”
“That analyst Larry must be crapping himself right now,” I exclaimed, “all of his predictions were wrong! He didn’t even think Akashi would make it to the finals.”
Marty and I erupted into giddy laughter after watching our childhood heroes demolish their competition so thoroughly.
“I think that is the quickest match there ever was,” Bob sounded shocked, “less than a minute. The entire match was less than a minute. Actually, can we get a ruling on that? Is this a new record?”
Both announcers paused for a brief moment, then Bill announced, “the crew here found a record of a match about two hundred years ago that was only fourteen seconds, but it says it was because both teams withdrew from the competition. So yes, this is the shortest duration match that was fought to its conclusion.”
“A new record! Akashi has the new record!” Bob still sounded a little stunned, “today seems to be a day for firsts. This is going to make for one great final!”
“When I woke up today, I didn’t think I was going to be able to say this but,” Bill cheerfully added, “stay tuned for when we return with the grand final of the four hundredt
h League of Dungeons Championship, between team Amorak and team Akashi!”
“We will have a small break then we will see you back here for the grand finale,” Bob concluded as the picture faded and then went blank. A moment later highlights from previous matches accompanied by music started playing with a counter counting down from sixty minutes.
“Come on,” I said to Marty on my way to our small kitchen, “I’m starving, and we have enough time to find something to eat.”
Marty jumped up and followed me to our kitchen. I started rummaging through the pantry while Marty opened the fridge.
While eating the concoction that passed as a meal for us, we discussed our predictions that Akashi was going to stomp Amorak, especially since they were down Samantha and it was unlikely that she had been reborn by her Dungeon yet.
We fantasized about one day being as powerful as the Trinity. I being a Kensai, since it was theorized to be a sub specialization of the Guardian class, and Marty as a Magus as powerful as Amani. Before we knew it, both of our plates were empty, and the counter reached zero.
“Welcome back folks,” Bob spoke to the viewers, “we are almost ready to begin the final.”
“In case you are just joining us,” Bill interjected, “this year’s final is between the Akashi and the Amorak teams.”
“The semifinals were something else,” Bob added, “both teams pulled out amazing show stopping victories that no one saw coming.”
Marty and I both jeered at that comment, “you didn’t see coming!” and “pfffttt, Akashi rules!”
The picture changed to show team Akashi entering the arena, “team Akashi, fresh from their recent victory over Selanora, is stepping onto the sand,” Bill announced.
“Akashi is led by team captain Dhurin, which surprisingly saw no action in the semifinal match. However, he is joined by Amani and Shino. Both of which, brought down one of the most powerful teams to enter the championships,” Bob added.
“And they made it look easy,” Bill finished, “I am still recovering from that display.”
