Chapter Text
Akito blinked. Rubbed at his eyes, partially because he’d just woken up from a nap and he wasn’t sure if the scene before him was a dream, or if there really was an assembly of old people dressed in elaborate, embroidered silk that resembled something out of his old console games.
Tales of Harmonia, now released on FunCube! Witness a young hero on his journey to save the world! The familiar jingle from thirteen years ago rang in his head.
It was all a little too realistic to be a dream, though. Not even a bad trip induced by downing three energy drinks in the span of a day could explain the cold air that seeped through the thin fabric of his suit, nor the solid feel of stone underneath his hands as he braced his weight against the ground.
“Honored traveler,” a robed figure called out to Akito then, snapping him out of his thoughts. Face wrinkled with age and framed by a long, silver beard that graced the marble floors, the elderly man spoke with a sense of gravitas that pierced through the worried murmurs of the gallery.
“I am Cirris, the Grand Sage of Oswait, and the one who has summoned you to this world,” the old man explained. Akito’s eyes were drawn to the silver staff in the sage’s hand that emitted a soft glow. Certainly looks the part, Akito thought to himself.
“You have been called here from the Otherworld to save us from a terrible evil that plagues our land,” the sage continued. Seeing no visible reaction from the traveler at his explanation, the old man lifted his staff and struck the floor. Billowing smoke poured out from its end, twisting and curling to form the shape of a towering, winged creature—finally, his guest showed his first sign of surprise.
“...A dragon?” Akito remarked.
Cirris nodded, closing his eyes.
“The kingdom of Aerant is a land of dragon shifters that seek for nothing but complete dominion of all. Our two countries have been at war for over a century, and despite the blessings of the Holy Maiden, our defenses are being broken down with every year that passes….”
The smoke-dragon in the center of the room shifted to take on the shade of the night. Ink-black with broad wings that doubled the wingspan of the previous dragon, the newly conjured beast stared back at Akito with piercing blue-grey eyes.
Beautiful.
Akito realized he’d voiced his thoughts aloud when the Grand Sage scoffed in disbelief.
“A beautiful killer! That is the true face of the Prince of the Nightshades.” Pacing around the room, the elder continued, “Among all the dragon shifters, the Nightshades are the most cruel and cunning, with an invulnerability to most magics. None of our White Knights have been able to survive an encounter with them, and it would serve you well to remember not to be fooled by their beauty if you wish to win this war.” With this, he dispersed the smoke-dragon with a wave of his hand and leveled Akito with a disappointed look.
Akito sputtered.
“Hold on, I never even agreed to anything yet!” Scrambling up to his feet and dusting off his pants with his hands, Akito continued, “Look, I’m sorry you’re all in the middle of a terrible conflict, but as clichéd as this sounds, you guys have the wrong person. I can barely fight to keep myself awake at my job without a Lipovitan , much less fight a creature twenty times my size.”
And it was true. Akito was just a regular (overworked) corporate slave who spent the majority of his day answering stupid emails and juggling the files his supervisor tossed onto his desk days before their deadline. Sure, he’d had some fist fights back in middle school, but that was when he was hotheaded and young. Now, he was thirty-two with a healthy fear of doing anything that would result in an injury that couldn’t be covered by his health insurance.
Strangely enough, the Grand Sage showed no signs of dissuasion after Akito’s frantic claims. Rather, he began to chuckle.
“We have made no mistake, honored traveler. Only those with great power are able to safely cross the barrier between worlds. And it was always your destiny to return….”
At his befuddled expression, the elderly sage gestured at something behind Akito. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Akito turned around.
Hanging on the wall in the center of the room was a portrait of himself—or rather, a splitting image of himself—wearing a white uniform, with a golden rose pinned to his right shoulder. The resemblance was undeniable, and Akito found himself speechless as he stared at the painting in disbelief.
“You are the reincarnation of the great Dragon Slayer who led our forces a century ago. Now it is time for you to lead us in our final war, as prophesied by the Holy Maiden.”
Oh, fuck, Akito thought faintly. I’m gonna hurl….