DAKU
Looking at myself in the mirror brought back memories of when I was just a kid dreaming of becoming an adventurer. I dreamt of the exciting journey and fights and all of the great things an adventurer could ever have.
"Mi—Mister Daku?"
I turned my head toward the door and saw Shiro with restless hands and a lowered head. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
I matched his height and held both of his shoulders. "Hey, look at me."
Shiro slowly raised his head until our eyes met. Just like earlier, back at the headquarters, he was worried, scared, and remorseful.
"I'll say this again: it is not your fault about what happened to Kana. So stop blaming yourself. Okay?" Shiro nodded. "Now, why don't you go help Grosi at the workshop? I bet he has yet to clean his mess down there."
"Okay, Mister Daku."
Shiro was about to step out of the room when I remembered something.
"And by the way, don't wait for me tonight. And lock the doors properly later. Knowing that you escaped, those men are probably looking for you."
"Alright, Mister Daku."
"Don't worry, Shiro. We're not going back without her," I reassured with a smile.
Shiro smiled back. "I know you will, Mister Daku."
Shiro finally left my room, and I went back to prepping the things I must bring with me as we started the search. I only had a small satchel with me containing the necessary items: a pouch of doquis, a small knife, and some stuff that I thought to myself would find themselves useful in the long run.
I didn't forget the dagger Kenshi gave to me. This weapon kept me alive for some reason. It somehow became a lucky charm instead of being a weapon.
Satisfied with my preparation, I closed the door of my room and descended the stairs. At the exact moment, Kenshi entered the shop wearing differently. He almost looked like a notorious man who was on his way to close an illegal deal. The black robe made sure of that.
"Quite an outfit you got there," I teased.
"We have to ble—"
"'—to blend in and keep a low profile', I know." I grabbed my robe from the nearby hanging rack and gracefully wore it. After buttoning all the buttons, I looked at Kenshi and said, "Shall we?"
"Please be careful, Mister Daku!" Shiro suddenly shouted from the workshop door. "You too, Mister Kenshi."
"We will, Shiro."
"I'll warn you two," Grosi said, emerging behind Shiro. "People in the black market are not someone you would like to mess with. If you want to get back here alive with Kana, heed my warning."
Kenshi and I nodded in response. After bidding farewell to the two, we left the shop and made our way toward the merchant Kenshi was talking about, who could get us into the black market.
It was already past nine. The streets looked like it was abandoned. The sky was blanketed by pure darkness although specks of tiny little lights somehow decorated it. There were no clouds that could be seen and the moon was nowhere to be found.
I got goosebumps as the evening breeze caressed our supposedly covered bodies. It seemed like the robe was not a great insulator of heat.
But I knew for myself that the breeze was little to blame for the goosebumps I had earlier. It was fear contributed most of it. Fear of failure in saving Kana.
"His name is Jihar," Kenshi said suddenly. I looked at him, confused about what he just said. "The merchant I know. His name is Jihar."
"You mean, that Jihar?" I clarified. There was only one Jihar in the Kingdom, and quite a famous one. "It's not surprising for a famed merchant like him to have access to the black market. Do you think he'll give us what we want?"
"I doubt it will be that easy. He's a merchant. Everything is a potential income for him. If we want the gate passes, it will cost us something."
"I hope it's not something great and dangerous."
After several turns, we finally reached a shop embellished with fancy decorations. The signboard at the top of the door suggested that we were indeed in the right place.
"Jihar Trading," I read. "Believe it or not, it's my first time here."
"You're not alone."
We were about to approach the door when suddenly it flew open. A man in his late thirties came out of it wearing an ordinary outfit. It must be a servant. He was about to flip the sign that said "OPEN" when he noticed us.
His furrowed brows and glaring eyes trailed from our head to our toes, scrutinizing both of us.
"We're closed for the day. Come back tomorrow," the man announced.
"We need your help," Kenshi started, stopping the man from closing the shop's door. Kenshi pulled out something from his robe and showed it to the man. It was the used gate pass to the black market.
The man opened the door slightly and poked his head out of its frame. He wandered his eyes on both sides to search for onlookers. After he ensured that no one else was around, he jerked his head, signaling us to enter.
It gave me a little bit of relief when he let us in. It somehow sparked a tiny flame of hope in finding Kana. We were one step closer to our goal.
The interior was bigger than I expected, if one excluded the items that were being sold here. But because of the large number of goods here, it made the shop cramped and small. The strong smell of history made this shop seem as if it had existed since ancient times.
The goods ranged from antiques to brand new. Let it be magical or not, big or small, or broken or intact. They looked more like a collection than a profitable item.
The man took a turn to go to the other side of the counter. He cleaned the countertop of its mess before fixing his eyes on us.
"How could Jihar be of service to you two?" the man asked, catching us off guard after saying his name. How rude of me. I just called him a servant a while ago. Thank goodness I didn't call him that out loud.
"It is an honor to have business with Jihar himself. The reason behind our intrusion at this hour is that a friend of ours was abducted by someone on the black market. We found this at the site where our friend was taken."
Kenshi took out the used gate pass once again and slid it over the counter. Jihar picked it up and brought it close to his eyes for a better look. He examined it until he was satisfied.
"There's no doubt that this is indeed a gate pass into the black market." He placed the paper flat on the countertop and faced us again. "I assume you want gate passes so you two can go to the black market?"
We both nodded.
"Very well."
"Name your price."
"I don't want money," Jihar corrected. Kenshi and I shared a look, worried about the possible condition. "Have you heard of the underground arena?"
Underground arena? Like an arena under the ground?
"I'm familiar with it," Kenshi replied.
Jihar turned his back on us and did something. By the sound of it, I bet he was preparing a drink.
"I sometimes participate in such entertainment, but not as a fighter, just to be clear. I'm more like a coach. I'll find a guy who'll do the fighting, and we'll split the prize. I supposedly have a fight tonight, but my fighter backed out."
My gut was telling me that this would not end well.
"Just get straight to the point, Jihar," Kenshi demanded, and I could tell from his voice that he was a bit annoyed.
"Win the fight and you'll get what you want." Jihar pivoted and faced us. "But I want you as my fighter."
My eyes widened in pure disbelief when Jihar pointed his finger at me. The thought of fighting in the arena where I could die sent chills down me.
"I object! Pick me instead, Jihar," Kenshi pleaded.
"Can't do," Jihar disagreed while shaking his head. "Everyone knows who you are, Kenshi. Everyone knows you've been cursed. No one would dare to fight you in that arena. No fight means no winners. And no winners means no gate passes."
Jihar had a point. The infamous Cursed Son of the Noble Swordsman would scare the other fighters. But I was not a fighter. Not ever. I was never awakened to be one.
But there was no other way. And even if there was, it would take us time to find one, and we didn't have much time. Kana might be in danger as we were talking right now. We must hurry before it is too late.
"I'll do it," I mumbled.
Kenshi suddenly held my shoulder and harshly pulled me to look at him.
"You're a Healer, remember! You're not supposed to fight!"
"Wait, what?! You're a Healer?!" Jihar asked in disbelief. "This won't do—"
"I can fight," I told Jihar, and I said to him eye to eye so he could sense that I was being serious. I looked at Kenshi. "Tell him, Kenshi."
I looked him in the eye, determined and firm, while he looked at me worried. We both knew that we had no other choice, and he knew that I could fight. He'd be lying if he said otherwise.
Kenshi sighed in defeat and faced Jihar, who was still hesitant towards me.
"He can fight," Kenshi declared.
"I'm not so sure about that—"
"I know you're having second thoughts, but I'm determined to win this fight."
I was not good at convincing people, but I hoped Jihar would reconsider.
This time, it was Jihar who heaved a defeated sigh.
"Fine, but here's the deal: I get to keep all the prizes," Jihar negotiated. "Remember that it was you who wanted the fight. So if you lose, I'm out of it."
"That's fine by me," I replied.
"You think you can fight now?" Jihar inquired.
***
"The arena has multiple entrances, and I was lucky enough to have one of them here in my shop," Jihar shared as we descended a staircase of cobblestone. "I accidentally discovered this a few years ago, and that's when I started joining the game. Only I can use this path."
As we descended deeper, the air slowly became humid. There was this stench as well as sweat and body odor. A faint and muffled noise of screaming and shouting could be heard, too.
It didn't take long for us to reach the very end of the stairs where lies an average-size room. There was a small window-like opening on the opposite wall of the stairs that overlooked the entire arena. At the center of it was a luxurious-looking chair which I believed was where Jihar would sit to watch the fight.
Jihar looked at me.
"Look, young man—"
"Daku," I introduced myself. "My name is Daku."
"Daku," he mumbled. "Look, I don't know your friend, but for you to risk your life like this, I could say that they're important to you. All I want you to do is do your best out there and survive. But of course, win for me. I don't know why, but something inside me is telling me that you got this."
"Is it okay for me to accompany him in the waiting area?" Kenshi favored.
"Yes. I was about to suggest that as well," Jihar replied. "Go. I'll be watching you here."
It was I who walked first and approached the door that I believed would lead to the waiting area. Kenshi tailed behind me and somehow his presence made me feel like whatever would happen, I knew someone would look after me.
We reached the room and saw a heavily wounded fighter being carried somewhere. The scene made my stomach churn not in disgust but in fear.
It made me think about reconsidering my life decision.
"Hey, look at me," Kenshi pleaded, and so I faced him. "I'm not good at giving pep talks, but all I can say is come back to me. I'm here waiting for you. Kana is waiting for you. Shiro and Grosi are waiting for you. You have to win."
"Don't worry, Kenshi. I'll be back."