The Akhapost Conspiracy

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        The second sun gleamed its midday rays through the brightly stained windows, but did nothing to raise Barry’s mood. Alone in the mess hall, he poked his cucumber sandwich. It snarled menacingly in return.

        His gaze strayed over to the younger students on the academy lawns, playing a game of thunder-ball with not a care in the world. Barry sighed, slightly jealous. It had been six months since he’d been abducted - sorry, ‘picked up’ - from home and taken into the magical kingdom of Akhane.

        After the first few weeks of bickering with his scientific convictions, Barry gave in and tried learning some magic. He’d spent hours examining course notes on his iScroll Touch and listened to the tips Random would spontaneously provide. Nothing worked.

        Barry had barely managed to pass first semester exams, mainly by cheating his way through with science. Who hasn’t used content from previous courses to boost their skill in a new course? Regardless, his results seemed to appease Hathor somewhat.

        One forbidden thought echoed in Barry’s mind late at night. If Hathor decided my magical proficiency was inadequate to defeat Akhapost, would I be sent back home, or would I be stuck here forever? He worried he already knew the answer. Either way, Barry needed to come up with something soon. Some sort of plan.

        Random suddenly nudged his way besides Barry, shoving a limp cucumber sandwich into his mouth.

        “Heya Barry. You do know that a tad of that second-sun sunshine is good for the skin, right?” Random questioned between crunching mouthfuls.

        “Not when it comes with the risk of being hit by a thunder-ball.” Barry quipped, hoping to cut the conversation all together.

        “You know, people wouldn’t bother you if you didn’t talk back.”

        Barry went to retort but Random had vanished. He sighed. Random unfortunately had a point. Over the semester, Barry had run into somewhat of a bully problem. He called it interplanetary racism. 

        Barry shook his head. Enough negativity. At least the day was almost over, and after lunch was his favourite class. The only one that didn’t involve magic: History.

        Realising he had forgotten his iScroll on his bed, Barry doubled back to the dormitories. He paused when he reached the room; a peculiar note was floating beside the door.

        Practiced magic, it read. Barry rolled his eyes, knowing full-well that was against the rules. He kept reading. Will clean up later. -Random.

        “Seriously?” Barry groaned aloud, but nevertheless reached for the door,jerking back as his hand made contact with the handle. It was scalding hot! He glanced back at the note and noticed additional text.

        No really. Come back later.

        Furious, Barry stormed off to class, hoping to see Random there. He burst into the room 10 minutes late, the teacher glaring at him, and Barry’s eyes drifted over to Random’s suspiciously unoccupied seat. Aware of the eyes on him, Barry awkwardly slunk over to his desk. After a moment of glaring, the teacher continued apparently from where she’d been interrupted.

        “In today's class we are learning about the grim, but grotesquely fascinating topic of the sacrificial ceremony to Akhapost.” Barry couldn’t help but slump in his seat.

        There goes the hope of learning anything new, he thought as the hours of briefings with Hathor in weeks prior flashed to the forefront of his mind. Just as he prepared to zone out, the next words from the teacher caught his attention.

        “… as a condition of peace to appease the monster, during the setting of the second sun, a child sacrifice must be made.”

        Barry’s ears pricked at new information - something Hathor hadn’t disclosed. The teacher went on.

        “However, in recent times, an unusual circumstance has occurred where children have volunteered themselves as sacrifices. It’s such a noble act for such a young age and all the more uncommon given the selfishness of youth.”

        Barry’s mind boggled. Hathor had never allowed him to attend the ceremony, though Random had gone to every one in the time Barry had known him. He glanced at Random’s empty seat.

        The teacher continued, further expanding on the strange theories of why children seemed to appease Akhapost the most, and what the likely ramifications would be if the sacrifice requirements were not met.

        The lesson ended on a bitter note, as the teacher described how all conventional methods of killing the creature had failed catastrophically, provoking Akhapost to retaliate and cause more bloodshed.

        After that disheartening exposition, and a small talk after class about matters of organisation and timeliness, Barry found himself walking back to the dormitories unusually exhausted. He hoped to find the door unlocked and the room in some degree of order, occupied with a very apologetic figure of Random.

        Two of these hopes came true.

        “Afternoon Barry. Hope the room access didn’t cause a problem. I got too curious about a particular piece of magic for my own good.” Random chuckled nervously, kicking something under the lower bunk bed as he did so.

        Ignoring Random, Barry took in the small dormitory, taken aback by its cleanliness. “I thought you said –” Barry started,  but         Random had already vanished. Barry shook his head, before stealing a glance under the bunk bed to see what Random had just kicked under it. He found nothing, so went about his afternoon.

        But there was something about it niggling in the corner of his mind, so when he needed the bathroom in the middle of the night, he snuck a look at the bottom bunk bed, and found it suspiciously missing a certain occupant.

        That’s impossible, Barry thought. Curfew prevents any student from leaving the dormitories after dark. The doors are locked with a type of magic that even Random can’t surpass. Unless…

        Barry waited in the darkness, sitting at his desk deep in thought. Random was acting, well, more peculiar than normal. Not showing up for class? Life happens. Locking Barry out of his room? Not acceptable, but everyone makes mistakes. Now missing in the middle of the night in inescapable dorms?

        He tried to rationalise the behaviour, after all, everyone has their quirks. Teleport tech might work long distance, but not without the right equipment. Random couldn’t have gone far then.

        Barry looked through the window onto the Academy lawns. The second sun was low now, becoming a blood moon. It would only be a couple of days until it set.

        In the darkness, Barry spotted a cowled figure running across the lawns, towards the dormitories. In the chance it was Random, Barry climbed back up to his bunk and dived into his bed, pretending to be asleep.

        Two seconds later, Random appeared. He huffed and panted in the middle of the room, making no attempt to be quiet, before excessively teleporting himself to the lower bunk, its wooden frame creaking under his sudden weight.

        All was silent once more.

        But a cacophony of thoughts barraged Barry’s brain. That’s it, he thought. That’s the last straw. Hathor lied, now Random’s hiding something too. I can’t ask for answers, so I need to find them myself. Barry drew in a breath. If there’s a next time…

        I’m going to follow him.