Chapter 15: Thirteen

My debut had arrived with much fanfare. Over the course of the last few weeks, word had been spread throughout the entire kingdom, as well as the neighboring countries, about my existence. Although numerous rumors of a Hero being summoned had already spread far and wide by that point, official word had not been heard until now. With official celebrations underway, King Alcor had all but admitted to the world that the kingdom of Duncan had done the impossible: through their own ingenuity and know-how, they had summoned a Hero.

They had summoned me.

The capital city of Vilgur was awash in visitors. People flocked into the kingdom from around the continent upon hearing the news. Some were wealthy aristocrats who wanted to be front-and-center in this historic occasion. Others were wizards who heard of Ghaldor’s outrageous claim and came to satisfy their own academic curiosities. A few were agents of other nations come to verify whether or not the rumors were true, and to gather whatever information they could for their own governments.

But most were just honest spectators who wanted to take part in the celebrations. Duncan was a prosperous and wealthy nation. It was one of the most powerful countries on the continent, second perhaps only to the member states of the Alliance. And now that they had their own Hero, their fortunes were set to ascend even higher. The best way to show the world Duncan’s upcoming rise was to throw a lavish party, and everyone wanted to be a part of it.

The city was awash in festivity. Colorful banners hung over the streets, sparkling confetti drifted through the air above everyone’s heads, and various bards and bands performed lively music in the corner of every thoroughfare. Crowds filled every street corner to take part in the celebration, and merchants took advantage of the large concentration of potential customers to peddle their wares by setting up stalls wherever they could. The aroma of street food filled each boulevard as tourists, families, and the occasional drunk took in the jubilation.

The center of all this celebration was Amaneas Stadium. The stadium was a large arena near the middle of the city where gladiator bouts and horse races usually took place. Today, the massive space would serve a different purpose. It would be the venue where the official ceremony presenting me to the public would take place. There I would stand before the king, his court, as well as two thousand members of the public, to be named as Duncan’s first summoned Hero. I would then be expected to wow the crowd by performing various acts which would show off my powers. Not only would this event showcase my own abilities, but it would quell all doubts about Duncan’s claim of having summoned a Hero.

I closed my eyes, then took a deep breath to steady my nerves. In just a few minutes, after the King had finished his prepared speech, I would walk out onto the floor of the arena to present myself to the two thousand people seated in the grandstand. I was terrified. Up until now, I had never been in front of so many people. The closest I came was when I was presented to the royal family and their court. But that was only a small gathering and I had Ghaldor there with me. This time I would be in front of a massive audience all by myself. I couldn’t even fathom that number. Two thousand. I’ve never even been around a dozen people; now I had to get up in front of two thousand?

“Don’t worry, dear. You’ll be wonderful,” said Madame Rancos as she did some final touch-ups on my outfit. The senior seamstress had been given the honorable assignment of making the dress that I would be wearing today at the ceremony. The old woman gave it her all as she designed an opulent white gown made of silky, lustrous fabrics. It was trimmed with gold thread and had pearl buttons going up the side. I think the fabric may have been magically enchanted as well since there was a faint white glow emanating from it. The light wasn’t anything bright or blaring, in fact it was quite subtle. But in the dim room we were waiting in, the luminous quality of the gown was quite apparent.

Thankfully, Madame Rancos also made efforts to keep the dress functional as well as stylish. It was not multi-layered, making it nice and light. The sleeves were wonderfully un-poofy. The hem of the skirt was shorter than usual and ended at the knee, which would allow me to move around a bit better. And I would definitely be needing that freedom of motion later today judging by what the king wanted me to do during my demonstration.

Griselda hummed softly as she fiddled with my hair, which, like the rest of me, had been dolled up for the occasion. Using only a hairbrush and a bottle of what looked like green jelly, the maid was able to style my hair in a passingly professional manner. Instead of just falling flat down my back like a white curtain, Griselda had somehow managed to make my hair wavier and bouncier in appearance. She also dusted my cheeks with some powder, the result of which made my face look a little less pale than it usually did. All in all, I think I looked pretty good. In that fantasy-princess sort of way.

The only thing utterly unprincess-like on my person was the sword strapped to a belt at my hip. It was a rapier, with a long thin blade and an ornate silver basket hilt. The sword was sheathed in a black leather scabbard, which was just as long and thin as the blade. Both weapon and sheath had been given to me by Sir Hirch as a sort of going-away present. After I had figured out what my power was, Ghaldor had felt that training under the older knight was no longer necessary. Hirch had come to bid me goodbye and he brought the sword with him.

“Keep it,” he told me with a smirk on his usually severe face. “Something to commemorate your ‘graduation.’ Besides, who knows? You just might need it someday.”

“Do we really have to stop my lessons?” I asked him sadly. Despite my misgivings in the beginning, the sword training had grown on me. It had been painful, and hard, but also sort of fun. Plus, I had been learning a lot. It seemed like such a waste to stop the lessons altogether.

Sir Hirch frowned, then began rubbing his grizzled chin. “Well, I admit. You do show some potential with the rapier. But I must confess, I don’t believe I’ve been teaching you very well.” At my confused look, he explained. “You see, I’m not very versed with the sword artist school myself, so I wasn’t exactly the best teacher for you. I just taught you what I knew about arming swords and slightly adjusted it to fit the rapier style.”

I had no idea what he had just said.

“But, if yer still interested, I can get in contact with some good tutors and they can get you started on the right path.” I eagerly agreed to his suggestion, and the knight promised to find me a good rapier instructor. Hopefully, one that wasn’t as aggressive as he was.

“And though the gods may have left us, they did not leave us alone.” I heard the magically enhanced voice of the king through the stone walls of the arena. I had read his speech, so I knew that he was almost at the end. Soon the gates in front of me will open, then I’d have to step out onto the sandy floor of the stadium and meet the two thousand or so people that had come to see me. I took several more calming breaths, which managed to steady my heartbeat, then opened my eyes.

“They left us all in the care of brave, valiant Heroes. Men and women from another world who courageously risk their lives to keep all of mankind safe. Until now, the nations of the Alliance had held the reigns of world events, lording over all of us, arrogant and safe in the assumption that only they had the right to possess the gods’ five chosen!” The king’s voice, which up until then had been calm yet assertive, quickly became hard and indisputable. “Let all here know now that Duncan has broken their stranglehold on Heroes! Through years of research and sheer determination, our wizards have found the key to the gods’ mysteries! No more will the Alliance have sway with the other nations of Casaad! No more can they bull their way into our affairs, holding the threat of their summoned Heroes over our heads!”

The rousing applause the king’s words caused was deafening, even here under the arena where I was standing. The two thousand people in the grandstands cheered loudly, the sheer volume of the gesture almost causing the stone walls to rock violently.

Huh, I guess the Alliance really wasn’t very popular around here.

“Because now Duncan possesses a Hero of our own! A Hero from another world, with powers of unbelievable strength. A Hero chosen by the gods, though brought here by the sheer will of mankind. Let us welcome her now. People of Duncan! Friends from around Casaad! I am privileged to present to you the sixth Hero of mankind! Amelia!”

Music flared up in the background as the orchestra began to play a rousing composition. People cheered loudly as the portcullis in front of me began to rise, revealing the sandy floor of the arena to my eyes. The bright sunlight entered into the dimly lit passageway that I had been waiting in, and the cheering and music only sounded louder once the gates had fully opened.

“Good luck, my girl!” shouted Madame Rancos over the noise.

Griselda smiled and gave me a simple nod.

I bit my lip, nodded, then marched past the open gates and onto the coliseum’s grand floor. With each step, my boots crunched upon the sand and my sword swayed at my hip. I kept my eyes narrowed and focused on the scene in front of me and tried to ignore the almost deafening cheers the audience was sending towards me. Once I reached the center of the large arena, I stopped and turned to face King Alcor. The orchestra stopped their playing, and the music made way for a terse silence.

The king was seated in a box located in the middle of the southern grandstand. Sitting with him was his family, with the exception of Prince Callion, who was still probably recovering from his injuries. King Alcor’s face was serene with a smile on his lips, though his eyes were like steel as he looked upon me. The queen, on the other hand, did not even try to hide her disdain. She looked down at me from her seat as if she were looking at something utterly foul, her handsome face twisted in an unamused scowl. But my attention to the royal couple was brief, as my gaze quickly found that of their daughter’s. Princess Riltara was dressed for the occasion, with a pretty pink dress and her yellow curls done up in a cute fashion. I hadn’t seen the princess since the altercation with her brother, so I never found out what she thought about me. Did she hate me for what I did to Callion? Did she think that I was some sort of monster for taking his arm?

As soon as the young girl met my eyes, she smiled and gave me a little wave of her hand. My worries quickly vanished as I returned her smile. Thank God she didn’t hate me! She was a nice kid, and I was thankful for the knowledge that I hadn’t traumatized her too much. Realizing that the princess forgave me for hurting her brother (or at the very least didn’t care about what I did to him) gave me the courage to continue on with the ceremony.

I faced the royal family, then performed a perfect curtsy. The crowd cheered. The king’s peaceful smile widened and he gave me the barest incline of his head, which I supposed was him acknowledging my greeting. I rose from the curtsy, then turned on my heel to face the only thing that was on the arena floor with me.

Some distance away stood a large, circular boulder. It was utterly enormous; about four times my height and the width of a small house. I felt really sorry for whoever had to roll that gigantic thing in here. Thankfully for them, they won’t have to be rolling it back out of the arena.

They would have a lot of cleaning up to do instead though.

I took a deep breath, then concentrated. My mind blazed through numerous calculations. Once finished, I raised my foot then slammed it onto the floor. The ground beneath me shattered, then an explosion of force rushed out towards the boulder. The floor ruptured upwards as the force passed, sending chunks of sand and earth up into the air. It switfly smashed into the boulder, causing the surface to crack. Pieces of rock flew up into the air, though the main body remained whole. The force of the blow caused the boulder to tip and roll a few feet backward on the sand.

The crowd gasped, then clapped and cheered at the show. None of them had ever seen a Hero in action before, and to many seeing Hero abilities performed was like watching a magic show on tv back in my world. It was all highly entertaining.

Fortunately for the audience, I wasn’t done.

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I walked calmly over to the overgrown boulder, my mind calculating its size, weight, and position. Once I was directly in front of it, I stopped. I then raised my right hand and placed it onto the rock’s warm surface. My fingers grabbed onto the smooth facade, then began to push upwards. The audience cried out in awe as they watched me, a short teenage girl, look as if she was easily lifting the ten-ton chunk of earth over her head.

It was just a simple trick, really. All I did was reverse the pull of gravity on the boulder, thereby nullifying the effect. It was pretty easy lifting something so huge when that something weighed absolutely nothing. Still, to the outside observer, it looked pretty darn impressive, and at the end that was all that mattered.

To finish off the show, I decided to go with something… flashy. I looked up at the massive rock I was holding up and smiled. I reached up with my free hand, then gave the surface of the boulder a simple pat.

The entire thing exploded.

Screams and exclamations of shock poured from the audience, some starting to panic at the excessive display of pyrotechnics. Many in the concerned crowd got out of their seats, looking down at the arena floor which was currently covered in a cloud of dust and debris. With such a massive bang, everyone probably expected me to be nothing more than chunks of meat on the sand. They needn’t have been worried.

With a flick of my wrist, a wind swept through the air, clearing away the obstructing cloud of dust. The audience gasped in surprise and relief when they saw me standing in the middle of the arena floor, not only completely unscathed but pristine. My skin and hair were clean, and so was my white dress, courtesy of my reflection barrier. Feeling rather theatric, I took a bow. A second explosion took place, only this one was composed of the audience cheering.

Once everyone settled down, it was time to move on to the next portion of the festivities. Two side gates began to open, the portcullis slowly rising until the heavy metal grates clanged, locking in place at the top. Several moments later, numerous figures began to step onto the arena. These figures were all male, and each looked to be not in the best of shape. They wore rough clothing in various states of disarray, contrasting sharply with my bright, shining gown. The men also looked as if they had not bathed in quite a while as they were all dirty and unshaven. They carried a myriad of weapons, from swords to clubs, to spears and knives. Several even had bows and arrows in their hands.

I frowned as I watched the men slowly march towards me. When I had been told about this portion of the ceremony, I had almost refused to take part in it. The king wanted me to display my powers in a combative sense. He felt that the best way to do so was to have me fight actual, living people. Needless to say, anyone who fought me for real would not come out of the situation in the best of shape, as Prince Callion could fully tell you. No one seemed to mind this one bit, though. Most likely because of just who had been chosen to serve as my opponents.

The crown had scoured the capital’s jail cells for the worst of the worst: thieves, rapists, and murderers. Anyone who was found guilty of a capital offense had been scooped up, taken to the arena, then given a weapon as well as a choice: fight me or go to the gallows. If they survived, they earned their freedom. Needless to say, no one expected these men to survive.

I bit my lip nervously as the scraggly army approached me. I counted around thirty of them, many of whom did not look to be in the best of shape. Some had visible bruises and swells on their faces, and it was obvious to me that they had been beaten at some point. Others walked with limps or favored one hand to the other. Many were dangerously thin as if they had not been fed in quite a while. They were varied in their numerous miseries, yet all of them shared one thing in common: each man’s face was hardened in grim determination. They were dead men walking, sentenced to death already. This was their chance to live. And all they had to do to get it was to kill a Hero.

One of the men, a skinny, desperate-looking sort who had wide eyes and crooked teeth, took off in a rush towards me. He held his sword aloft and screamed as he charged, his twig-like legs almost buckling under him as he ran across the sand. Once he reached me he swung the sword in both hands with all his strength. There was a ripple of air around me as the blade descended, then bounced back with equal force. The sword was wrenched out of his arms and the man screamed. He dropped to his knees and held up both hands, the fingers of which were twisted in awkward angles and colored an unhealthy purple. I turned my eyes away from the sight of him as the pitiful human being crawled away, screaming and sobbing in pain.

That was when an arrow flew through the air towards me. The same ripple effect appeared as the missile hit my barrier, causing it to veer off in another direction. It quickly landed, skittering across the sandy floor. More arrows flew, and they too were redirected away from me. One reflected arrow spun away in the direction of the man who had attacked me. It flew right at him and pierced directly into the back of his neck, silencing his screams and ending his suffering.

Seeing that they were having no luck, the archers ceased their attacks and allowed the ones with melee weapons to move forwards. Spears, swords, clubs, axes, and knives all came at me. They were all bounced back, the forces behind them redirected at my attackers. The men began screaming as they staggered backward and away from me, clutching at their broken and bleeding limbs. One desperate convict stood back and threw his spear at me. My barrier redirected it away, where it flew on to impale another man behind me in the chest.

Over and over the men attacked, causing injury only to themselves or their fellows. As their numbers decreased, the men began to panic. The archers began to open up again with more volleys of arrows. The projectiles did nothing but kill their own when they were redirected back off of my barrier. Pretty soon, only the archers were left as all the men with melee weapons lay injured or dead. When the men ran out of arrows, they each fell down to their knees utterly despondent, their hopes of living all but forgotten.

And all throughout the carnage, the audience laughed and cheered. I was no better. All I could do was stand stock still, my eyes wide in horrified shock while I watched the carnage unfold in front of me.

I looked around and saw that there was one man left who was still standing. He had held off on attacking with the others, standing back as he watched the mob have its go at me. The man was of medium height and build, and looked to be in better shape than the others. His clothing, though frayed from his time in a cell, was of much better quality than the rugged clothes of the others. He seemed to be wealthy, or at least had been, with aristocratic features that were marred by numerous bruises. I silently wondered what he was doing here with the rest of these men when he began to speak.

“So, a Hero, eh?” He said with a limp smile. His eyes were sad, almost broken. “And they really expected us to believe we could fight and win?”

I didn’t answer him. I just looked down at the floor in shame.

“Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.” The man’s sad smile wavered. “You seem so young. And kind. In a better world, one such as you would never be expected to participate in such a horrid event.” He then stepped forwards, his boots crunching softly on the sand.

I looked up in shock, my red eyes widening. Oh no, I thought. Please don’t do it!

I didn’t want to kill him!

But the man wasn’t walking towards me. He made his way to one of the fallen convicts, a tall man who had gotten pierced with an arrow. The wealthy man knelt down next to the corpse and plucked out the knife that was still in its hand. He then stood up and gave me one last smile.

“I’m sorry you have to see this, young miss,” he told me as he raised the knife to his throat. “But I intend to die by my own hands. Please avert your eyes if you must.” With those words, he plunged the blade into his neck.

“No!” I shouted. The audience gasped out in shock as well.

There was a long period of stupefied silence as we watched his body fall onto the floor. Blood began to pool around his head from the gaping wound left in his neck, staining both the sand and his rich clothing in red. The crowd began to murmur to themselves, still shocked at what the man had done to himself. It was as if just a moment ago they hadn’t all been watching and cheering while others killed themselves and each other as they tried to attack me.

The king finally broke the shocked reverie by speaking. His magically amplified voice resounded across the arena as he said, “Well done, Lady Hero!” I was snapped out of my anguished thoughts by the loud voice and I turned my attention back to him where he was standing in his box.

“As you all just saw, our great Hero has vanquished thirty vicious criminals with ease! Now then, Lady Amelia. If you will,” King Alcor waved his hand towards the arena floor. “Finish it.”

My eyes glanced over to the scene he was indicating. Before me, lying upon the sandy floor, were the convicts. Many dead, many more alive but injured. As well as the archers, who looked upon me with complete and utter dread. I felt a churning in the pit of my stomach. I knew what they expected me to do. I had agreed to this, after all. I wouldn’t have if I thought that I was incapable of doing so. Yet, now that I was faced with it, now that I was expected to do it…

I turned away from the king and hurriedly made my way to the exit. I ignored the injured and dead around me. I ignored the gaping looks the archers were giving me. I ignored the confused murmurings of the crowd in the stands. I ignored the poor man who had just killed himself in front of me.

I just ran.

As I made my way off of the arena floor, I heard the orchestra start up and music once more filled the stadium. I found my way back into the passageway that I had entered from and saw Madame Rancos and Griselda waiting for me. I ran into Griselda’s arms where I allowed myself to weep. She and the seamstress comforted me as best they could, but I couldn’t really hear their words. All I could think about was that man’s sad smile and of how this stranger’s last thoughts were of concern for me as he ended his own life.

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