I woke up soar beyond belief. Crawling out of bed, I made my way to the bucket of water I kept in the corner of my room. Gulping half of it down, I collapsed onto the floorboards in a cold sweat.

I couldn’t believe what had happened the other day.

“Status!” I called out. And sure enough, the same status as yesterday appeared. I really had a class. Things might finally get better. I muttered.

With this, I could make enough money to cure Richard’s sister, move out of the dead-ends, buy a nice house, live a peaceful life as a craftsman, and start a happy family. But where to start?

I didn’t know how to make a gargoyle. I had only seen Justin work until I was about eight, but that wasn’t the same as learning the techniques involved. Not to mention all that equipment and workshop space would cost money. There were too many things that needed to be tackled.

Trudging back to bed, I spotted a grey letter on my nightstand. It was stamped with the Normandie’s family crest.

Jerking it off the table I flipped it upside down and stared at it through the letter thanks to the morning sun, black ink peered through. Was this the real deal? What did the ducal family have to do with me?

Quickly, I opened the letter.

Under the supervision of the class giver Tristan de la Vallée, you have been confirmed to possess a class. As such, your name is to be registered in the duchy’s registry. If you require help to arrange transportation, we instruct you to show this letter to any transportation agency. All your travel expenses are to be paid and provided for in the name of Duke Fabien de Normandie.

You are to report to the office of class holders in Rouen within the next month, after such, you will be able to join one of the five class associations to receive further support.

We congratulate you on your ascension,

In the name of Fabien de Normandie, Duke of Normandie

Signed by Tristan de la Vallée

I dropped the letter. My hands were shaking. It was real. It had to be! Everything that had happened was real.

I closed the letter and passed my hands over the silky-smooth seal. But should I go right now? Leave for the capital? Or help Isabelle and Richard out first, but then I could miss the deadline. Maybe writing them a letter instead would be for the best? It wouldn’t help any of us if I became a fugitive because I didn’t obey the duke.

Still, this was a difficult decision, so I ran to the Général Arnault.

Entering, the bell chimed, and Eve yelled out, “Welcome!” Yet again, with her usual smile. But when she realized it was me, she asked worriedly, “Why are you already back! Did something happen?”

“No, don’t worry, I just got a letter and had to stay.”

“A letter? What happened.”

“Nothing really.” I don’t know why I couldn’t tell her, perhaps because class holders were the reason we lived like this.

“Then why are you here?”

“I need to head to Rouen, but then I’d be leaving Isabelle and Richard on their own. I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s another lie.” Her voice was terse. “You have to. Isn’t that what you said?” She sighed and shooed me off with her dusty rag. “Just go. This is your life and there are others that can help them. If you live your life for others you’ll regret it, and that is most likely sooner rather than later.”

“Maybe.” Perhaps I could just send them money every month. I’d lived all my life confined within the walls of Bayeux, although to say the dead-ends and the noble district was the same city was egregious. Regardless, I had too many memories here and most were bad. “But if it weren’t for them, I don’t know if I could have gone through those years.”

“But you did, and they will be fine too. They’ll find the two golds and if they’re missing a few silvers, I’ll help them. If they come ask for my help…” She tapered of for a second.

“I’ll be sure to tell them that you’ll be back soon. Although it’s been a while Richard hasn’t come over, I know it’s not because of you, he’s just been overwhelmed.”

“You shouldn’t speak for others Gregoire, you are not them.”

“I suppose.” There was something she wasn’t telling me either, but. I tapped my chest where the ducal letter was hidden. “Then I’ll leave right now. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone but it shouldn’t be more than two months.”

“That’s fine. The way you’re talking someone would think you’re coming back in a decade. You aren’t leaving us for that long, are you?”

“No.” I smiled. “I’ll be in less than two months.” That was a promise to both her, my friends, and myself.

“Then I’ll see you soon,” said Eve, returning to her cleaning.

It wasn’t hard to tell from her expression she didn’t approve of my decisions, but I had to hold myself to it.

Leaving, I looked back through the shop’s open window stills. I couldn’t see her as she cleaned the store shelves hidden in the back.

I got an ache in my heart and had to sit down. Below the Général Arnault’s window I watched people pass by aimlessly. All with roughed up hands, most with limps and many with scars covering their bodies from the plague which had passed by a bit before I was born.

Getting up and dusting off my pants, I made my way to the merchants’ district.

#

The metallic clang of horse hooves clanged on the stone road. The yells of merchants resounded, and the cracking of wooden barrels made up the bustle of the merchant district.

I needed to find a quick way to get to Rouen, and everyone knew that the best people when it came to that were merchants.

Walking along side the buildings as not to get trampled, I walked in horseshit and unknown liquids. Doing my best not to puke I eventually reached the Richelieu Company’s office. But as soon as I opened the door, a giant man, yelled at me. “What do you want! Can’t you see we’ve got our hands full.”

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Two men pushed me aside and ran outside.

“Speak up!” The man said, flipping through a stack of parchment papers and handed one to a boy who ran out right after.

I couldn’t be sure he was talking to me.

“New guy, I don’t have time, speak up or I’ll kick you out!”

“I just need to get to Rouen.” I quickly fished for the letter but dropped it—

“Fuck off! We don’t have time for that, go somewhere else.”

“What!” I froze. Didn’t he see the seal? “I have a ducal—”

“I don’t care, I’m delivering these goods to the duke, equal authority. Why should I care about anything else! I don’t have time to deal with this.” He tapped two boys busy stacking up small boxes behind him. “Kick that guy out.”

They came to take me by my arms, but I wasn’t gonna be taken again. I pushed them away and stepped back. I was still a dungeon diver, a classless dungeon diver but a dungeon diver none the less and these kids didn’t have any political sway, not to mention I was now a class holder. “This is a ducal seal you can’t just kick me out!”

“What! Can’t you see we don’t have space for you? Why are you insisting on using our company when you can see how busy we are? And why did you come here with a ducal seal, go somewhere where you’ll get better treatment. Here, you’ll only get splinters and insomnia.”

“I’m already here and I’m not gonna take a lot of space!” I pushed back. “I need to leave as soon as possible so just throw me in a barrel if you need to.”

“Fuck it.” He threw up his arms. “Go sit in a corner and I’ll tell you when I find you a hole.” He turned to the next pair of boys who’d run up to him, “X and Y, don’t forget make sure the wine barrels are sealed before you move them. Go!”

I wasn’t going to back down, so I stayed. An hour passed, and I was starting to feel guilty of not helping. But if I spoke up, I’d be personally kicked out by the merchant.

Finally, what seemed like a full twelve hours later, the merchant whom the others called Eric looked over to me. “You’re still here? Just come with me, let’s go!”

Now outside once again, the mess that was the street this morning had disappeared. The merchant district’s main street was fully occupied by a caravan line counting two dozen carts filled with upright barrels.

“Here!” Eric jumped in a cart flying the Richelieu Company’s emblem. Inside, a dozen or so boys I’d seen help load up the carriage were waiting, collapsed, dead tired.

Climbing in, I sat next to Eric, and the next thing I knew we were moving through the city and passed beneath the city gates without even being stopped. The guards were in fact keeping the way clear. Not to mention the two guards from earlier were nowhere to be seen. I suppose that was one good thing to have happened, but I was too tired to appreciate it fully.

For the next hour, we all sat in silence, watching as the caravan made its terrifyingly slow way along the muddy path leading to Rouen. Finally, when Bayeux’s walls were no longer in sight and we’d passed the surrounding villages, the atmosphere seemed to be relaxed enough for me to thank the merchant. “Your name’s Eric, right?”

“Um.” The man looked to have been lost in thoughts or maybe drowsing off. Perhaps I should have waited till another day.

“Yes, it’s Eric. And what was that letter about?” His eyes snapped open, and his drowsiness seemed to have vanished catching me off guard.

“It’s an order to head to Rouen within the next month.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sure, but for what?”

“Oh, it’s to be registered as a class holder.”

“Really…?” He let his head fall back against the carriage’s wall. “You don’t look like the type. And you’re quite young, my condolences.”

Those words meant nothing to me, but his sincerity did. He seemed like someone I could at least speak with honestly. “Thank you, but my mother and I were abandoned a long time ago. I couldn’t care less about him, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“What an asshole,” he added. And I couldn’t help but smirk, I don’t know why. Well merchants were merchants for a reason.

“I hear that class holders often do things of the sort.” He continued. “Now that you’ve lived it don’t commit the same faults.” He looked at me, serious and I gave him a small nod. That’s all I could muster for now. Everything I’d lived through was coming back up. It was hard to think. To feel. I liked my life now, but what could have been if it weren’t for such a shitty card.

“What’s the class?” He asked.

“Gargoyle craftsmen,” I said.

“A craftsman, maybe this meeting was meant to be. Here,” He pulled out a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it over. “When the celebrations are over head to the Richelieu company’s headquarters. Jacob de Richelieu is the master and he’s always searching for talented people. Although I’m not sure when it comes to personality compatibility, I’m sure you’ll find what you need there.”

I put the parchment in my pocket. “I didn’t hear about a festival, what’s it for.” I didn’t want to talk too much about classes honestly, it made me sick.

“You didn’t hear? The Count of Maine is bed ridden and his two eldest sons, twins, are currently embroiled in a small conflict to determine the inheritence.”

“Will we intervene?”

“Indeed. King Henrie has yet to establish his power, and the only ones who may contend with the duke in the kingdom are the Counts and Dukes of the South. As such, Duke Fabien is unchallenged. To pass up this opportunity would be insanity. You should count yourself blessed to become a class holder before a war begins, to receive a letter of introduction to Jacob de Richelieu, and to be on the winning side of a war. Only the mad would pass up the chance to be you. I certainly wouldn’t.” His eyes were bloodshot, he was exhausted, but there was definitely a hint of envy and anger in those eyes.

“Sorry.” Eric closed his eyes. “I’ve been awake for two days. Enjoy the view, I’m going to sleep. We should arrive in less than a week.”

And just as the assistants fell asleep, so did Eric.

Since the class upgrade had caused me to have the deepest sleep I’ve had in the past decade, I couldn’t sleep and had no choice but to admire the lush grasslands.

The further we travelled, the more the more sycamore trees dotted the horizon and vast fields of wheat painted the land gold.

Like that, two days passed until an explosion rocked the ground.

#

The explosion came on the second day.

The barrels loaded on the carts jumped into the sky and the horses neighed while trying to run away, only to be pulled back by the heavy carriages.

Quickly, I turned to Eric. He was already moving.

“Everyone, ready for combat!" He yelled and the people in the carriage scooted to the sides. Reaching down, Eric pulled a hidden lever, revealing a compartment filled with swords, bows, and quivers. “Everyone, take one.”

Reaching down, I did as the others, but he grabbed my hand. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m fighting, isn’t that obvious.”

“You are a class holder and I doubt you have a kid. If you die, it’s my head that would be put on a spike in Rouen.”

Whatever he was saying might as well have flown over my head; I couldn’t sit in a corner and watch as people fought. “I’m a dungeon diver, I can handle myself.”

“Against goblins!” He pointed to something behind me. “We are fighting a mage!”

A pillar of fire and smoke rose so high it obscured the sun. The smoke was steadily replaced with brighter and brighter flames until it turned into a pillar of pure white fire and split into dozens of fiery dragons.

“We’re holding these so that the mage must take precautions, but that also means he’ll target us. You’re a class holder, you can’t be bait. Do you understand!” yelled Eric.

The dragons spread, flying in a V-shaped formation towards us.

He let go of my hand. “Everyone, scram!” Eric jumped out of the carriage. Following him, we jumped into the nearby field of tall grass and lied down, covering our heads, and holding our breaths.

A deafening screech shook the air, and the blue sky flashed yellow. Glancing up, a dragon had just crashed into a thin blue barrier in the sky. The other dragons spread, encircling us. The barrier moved to cover the front of the convoy.

The next thing I knew, a blazing white dragon locked in on us. “Run!” Is all I could scream before I scrambled to my feet and ran down the small hill, we were one. The air exploded once again and tumbled I down. Trying to get up, pain shot up from my foot, but seeing the dragon still approaching I bit my lips and kept running. Yet, I couldn’t get far before a force blew me away like a rag doll.

Holding my breath, praying I wouldn’t die, I put my arms in front of my head and tried to put my feet down to slow me down. But sometimes they were in the air, sometimes they were a few inches from the ground. It felt like an hour before hit the ground tumbled to a stop. Everything was still spinning and nothing hurt, but I knew I couldn’t move.

Trying to at least regain a steady sight, I caught glimpses of dragons slamming into the barrier, but I couldn’t feel the shock of it all anymore.

I suppose the war had already started. There was no reason for me to try and escape. I was already dying, I knew it. It was hard to keep my eyes open. Fading to black, the last thing I saw was another bright flash.