“We really shouldn’t be here,” Ki pointed out, his anxiety rising when he heard his own echo as if coming from another voice agreeing with him. They hadn’t even known the room existed, and they certainly hadn’t expected that one of the shelves acted as an opening mechanism to the hidden room. If Ki hadn’t accidentally knocked into it, he could have been back in the Monastery, maybe even taking a nap, or sitting in the garden.

But no, he was stuck in some hidden room with potentially dangerous items and was most likely at risk for another punishment. He rolled his eyes and corrected himself. He was with the twins so there was no doubt they would get into some kind of mess that a punishment would be guaranteed and should be the least of his concerns.

“Oh stop it,” Rika said with nonchalance, not even bothering to turn around as she looked around the room, examining the contents with a fierce intensity from the knowledge that since the room was most likely forbidden, she would have to describe all the contents to the other students in the Monastery.

“If we’re not supposed to be here, then they shouldn’t have made the room,” Akan pointed out with the same logic that usually resulted in the three of them getting a punishment. He reached out for a small urn that was by itself on an upper shelf. Even though he was tall, he had to stand on his toes to reach it.

Ki’s eyes widened as he stepped forward to grab the urn before Akan dropped it, or worse, opened the lid to see what was inside. Akan gave him an innocent look and shrugged his shoulders, already looking for another item that looked interesting. Ki practically hissed, “Don’t touch anything!”

Rika’s soft laugh hit him in the gut like it always did. With a heavy sigh, he walked over to see what she was examining. He cradled the urn in his arms, treating it as a fully trained Ritualist should hold it. If the twins could possibly stay out of trouble and stop dragging him with them, the three of them should be full-fledged Ritualists within a year.

Rika pointed at one of the shelves. An unseeing eye floated in a jar of clear liquid. “That can’t seriously be real, can it?”

Ki leaned closer and quickly drew back. He could have sworn the eye turned to look at him. He was about to ask Rika if she saw it, but she was looking at him with an odd expression.

“You look like a full-fledged Ritualist holding that,” she said, a half-grin on her face. Holding spells were one of the last lessons they learned, because calling the assistance of an ancestor required immense spiritual power. Master Togo insisted that holding spells be only learned in the final year of training under constant supervision.

Ki looked down at the urn. It wasn’t as ornate as the other urns that held the remains and spiritual essence of the past heroes. In fact, it looked like more of a hybrid between the training urns and the urns with powerful ashes. Mostly black, the urn had gold filigree around the lid rim and bottom.

Akan peered around the only set of free-standing shelves in the middle of the small room. How Akan could manage to get out of supervision in any situation never ceased to amaze Ki. Even in a small room loosely packed with jars, urns, books, and other miscellaneous unidentifiable items, Akan could still maneuver himself into some kind of trouble. Luckily, Ki was used to covering for him, as in the common case when he wasn’t fast enough to prevent Akan from getting them into trouble in the first place.

The three of them had grown up together in two neighboring shacks in Kaineng City under negligent supervision. Even though the three of them were the same age, for as long as the three of them could remember, the twins always led the way to trouble while Akan led the way back. Even after nineteen years, Akan still watched the twins with unwavering loyalty. Luckily for Akan, despite the twins’ cavalier attitudes, they were as equally devoted to Akan. The best thing their parents did for them was abandon them together at the Shing Jea Monastery at age ten so they could at least have each other.

“You should drop it, see what it does,” Akan said with a grin. Had Akan been the one holding the urn, Ki had no doubt he would have already dropped it, just to see what would happen, regardless of the possible consequences. “Maybe it’ll be a ‘Fun was Akan’ effect and you could be a little less serious.” He disappeared behind the shelves again while Ki counted to ten.

“He’s got a point, you know,” Rika agreed, pointing at the urn. “It’s not like it could hurt. It’s at The Monastery after all, and it’s not like they keep dangerous stuff here.”

“And we should know,” Akan’s disembodied voice echoed in the small room.

“Perhaps it’s because, they – oh, I don’t know – keep it behind secret rooms?” Ki said with exasperation. It was never easy going against the twins when they decided to actually agree on something. He looked at the urn again, “Besides, we don’t even know if it’ll be an offensive or defensive effect since it doesn’t look like the other urns.”

“That’s why you should drop it and find out,” said the disembodied voice again.

“I’m not going to drop it, and what are you doing behind there anyway?” Ki said, walking around the shelf.

“Boo!” Akan shouted, jumping out at Ki. He wore a large mask made out of something unidentifiable that to Ki’s horror resembled actual skin. The eye-holes were small and deep, making Akan’s eyes appear sunken. Bright red stripes ran from the nose to each ear. Large and sharp teeth protruded underneath stretched lips. Ki couldn’t help but let out a cry of surprise from the shear hideousness of the mask coming at him. “Catch!”

Out of reflex, Ki caught the jar that contained a floating tongue. The urn was precariously held in his left hand as he caught the jar with his right. Both items threatened to fall but Ki kept his bearings and righted himself.

Until Akan crashed into him.
Both the jar and urn went crashing to the floor.

“Cool, isn’t this?” Akan said as he righted himself. He took off the mask, because he could barely see through it. He wore a look of immense pride. “I’ve found myself a Halloween mask.”

“That’s disgusting, Akan,” Rika said with an expression that showed what she thought of his choice in headwear. “And, look at the mess you made! That jar stuff is all over the place, and I am not picking up a tongue.”

“Aww, it’s not that big of a mess. It’s not like I meant to run into Ki,” he said with chagrin. He looked over at Ki, who was staring at the broken jar on the floor. The glass shards were scattered around his feet as he stood unmoving. “Don’t tell me you’re mad, Ki.”

“Wow, you actually made Ki mad?” Rika asked with some amazement in her voice. Ki was always exasperated with them, but he had never actually been truly angry at them, even though most of the trouble they got into was because of them.

Who was she kidding, all the trouble they got into was always because of them.

Ki stood immobile as he stared down, his chin length hair falling in front of his face like a curtain. He was completely and utterly silent.

“I’ll clean it up. Sorry,” Akan grumbled, walking out the secret door to get the cleaning pail. Their punishment was to clean up the storeroom anyway, so he figured cleaning a secret room in the storeroom wasn’t really extra work.

“Ki, it’s not a big deal, really,” Rika said softly as she touched his shoulder. He didn’t flinch like he usually did when she touched him. She pulled back her hand, suddenly afraid, even though she didn’t know why she should be. A shill ran down her spine and her throat turned dry.

“See! I’m cleaning!” Akan pointed out, as if they couldn’t tell what he was planning on doing with the mop and pail.

“Be careful,” Rika whispered as she ran her hands up and down her forearms, trying to chase the chill away. She wasn’t sure what she was referring to with her warning though. Was it the glass she was concerned about or the ominous feeling she was getting?

“Hey, where’re the ash and the urn?” Akan asked as he lifted the mop to pick up the liquid. Usually, when an urn is dropped, the spiritual energy held within the ashes would cause the urn to reform for additional uses. He frowned and suddenly stood. “Is a spell still active?”

As if snapping out of thoughts, Ki said slowly, “I don’t think anything happened.”

“Are you sure, because I have a bad feeling,” Rika countered. Ki looked over at her and smiled the familiar smile that always made her heart race.

“I’m sure it’s because of the jar breaking. Who knows what was in there? It’s probably the smell giving you a bad feeling.”

“This stuff does smell pretty bad,” Akan agreed with a frown.

Rika nodded hesitantly, “Yeah, that’s probably it. But where’s the urn?”

“It’s probably a special urn designed to just dissappear instead of break.”

“I wish they would have made the jar out of the same stuff,” Akan grumbled loudly as he pushed the tongue and the glass shards under one of the lower shelves. There was a clearance of about three fingers, so he was sure no one would find it. “Now this is where you try to convince us to tell Master Togo about what happened, but I’m not doing it.”

“We shouldn’t,” Ki said softly, backing away and moving to the door.

“Wow,” Rika said surprised. “I was also expecting you to say we should, too.” The two twins walked out the secret entrance, Rika leading the way and Akan carrying the pail and wet mop behind him, secretly hoping that Ki wouldn’t point out that he had just hid the mess instead of cleaning it. To his relief, Ki seemed to let that go.

Ki watched the twins pick up some of the cleaning supplies they left on the floor. They were bickering like they always did. They left some rags and another pail for him to carry back. He took one last look at the room and smiled, his eyes suddenly glowing an eerie gold that made his irises and pupils completely disappear.

“No, Master Togo doesn’t need to know about this at all,” he said softly and closed the secret door with a smug smile.

Necro Minami

Origins of the Urns:
When a hero dies, they are cremated and through ritual, a piece of their spirit is held to the mortal plane. This is a reward and the deceased hero is essentially given immortality, choosing to aid new generations of heroes through the traits they displayed during their own lives. Whether the heroes choose to give defensive or offensive abilities depends on the hero and this choice is reflected in the urn that is manifested after the ritual.

However, sometimes a hero will die tragically and refuse to accept death. Through ritual, the fury and rage experience at death causes a malevolent spirit to form. These occurrences rarely happen, but when they do, usually because the body is found and the Ritualists bestowing the cremation honor are unaware of the emotional turmoil during the hero’s death, the urn created takes neither offensive or defensive appearances. The urn is black, signifying the darkness and rage of the hero’s soul caused by the untimely death. Nothing will happen if the urn is held, because of the gold filigree bindings keeping the sorrow and rage from overwhelming the carrier. If the urn is broken, the malevolent spirit is released, and only the greatest heroes can even hope to stop it. The only known way to counter these abominations is to lock the urn away with the desperate hope that no one is fool enough to release the darkness within...

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