Chapter 14.5

 

“Damn it all…” I said, adjusting my cape.  Because my Master and I arrived a day late to the capital, we had not had the time to get my noble raiment tailored. As such, I was forced to borrow hand me downs from a local lord that Master was acquainted with.  

 

Though borrowed, the suit I wore was a splendid shade of white with gold filigree and lining, as well as a satin undershirt, and a white feathered cap.  Hanging from my shoulders was a white cape with gold lining as well.  My master was also decked out in full military garb with all of the medals and badges he had earned for his service displayed proudly on his chest.  We each had a ceremonial sword hanging from our waists, and we each had a light crystal sewn into the heart of our lapel’s.

 

A symbol of our faith for the patron god of Estora, which was required for events such as the one that would take place today.

 

“Stop fidgeting Robert.” My Master, Captain Montague said.

 

“Sorry, I think this thing is too big for me…” I grumbled

 

The two of us had been standing in a hall connected to the throne room of Alumen Castle- where the King of Estora reigned from- for several hours and we were both growing impatient as we waited for the ceremony to start.

 

“Well bear with it for now.  If it weren’t for those stone trolls attacking our caravan, we would have had time to get you fitted.  Hopefully none of the nobles notice that we padded your clothes too…”

 

“I doubt it would change very much, they already look down on me for being a peasant.” I said, rolling my eyes.

 

These last ten years Master had made a point of drilling the rules of etiquette into me to keep me from making a fool of myself in front of the nobles.  As it turned out however, none of that mattered to them.  They were more concerned with pedigree than they were with ability or who I was as a person, and as such I was quickly looked down upon by the upper class.

 

At first I was surprised.  I had thought that someone with the title of Hero would be accepted, if not for pedigree, than for the sheer power that their friendship could be leveraged for, and according to Master this was indeed how most other nations treated their Heroes, but the Estoran nobles had grown fat and arrogant and thought themselves above the dangers of this world.

 

“But I know the truth…”

 

The monsters, they were everywhere. In forest and every mountain, they hide in every shadow, awaiting their chance to pounce on some innocent passerby.  Goblins run down the countryside stealing crops and kidnapping women, defiling them in their dens.  Orcs and Trolls, the great violent thugs, ambushing merchants and travelers to eat them and take their property, and Dragons…the worst of them all.

 

Just thinking the word made my blood boil as I remembered all of the atrocities that those evil lizards had committed.  Throughout all of the world there was no force-with the possible exception of the Demon Princes and the Dark Apostles- that was responsible for sewing more chaos and strife than the Dragons.  For unlike normal monsters, whose desires could be satisfied with just stealing your crops, taking your life, or harming your body- Dragons would never stop taking.  Your life, your gold, your livestock,  your family, your home- even your entire kingdom.  Dragons will burn, pillage and eat it all until there is nothing left and then to add insult to injury they will proclaim themselves the lord over the ashes of what was once your homeland.

 

That was the true terror of the Dragon.

 

“I will never allow that to happen again, even if it means hunting every last one of them down…” I thought, accidentally letting out a little bit of my murderous aura.

 

Master winced and said “Think about killing dragons on your own time, if the King senses your bloodlust I’m the one who is going to have to pay for it.”

 

I hurriedly calmed myself down, apologizing to Captain Montague who waved it off, saying “Just don’t do it again.”

 

The two of us stood there, fidgeting and waiting, for another half an hour before a servant approached to tell us that the ceremony was finally about to begin.

 

“Shape up lad.” Montague said, standing up straight and tall.

 

“I’m 25 years old, you don’t need to call me ‘lad’ anymore.” I replied, doing one last check to make sure my cape and outfit weren’t loose.  He just smirked at me as the double doors marking the entrance to the throne room were slowly opened before us.

 

The inside of the throne room was exquisite.  A lavish red carpet extended from the entrance of the room to a beautifully carved wooden throne at the back wall.  The throne itself was studded in jewels and golden decorations, and there were numerous carved patterns covering it that gave the chair an air of resplendence that my peasants eyes had never before encountered.  The walls of the room were all shaped out of limestone, with intricate marble columns spaced out at regular intervals to support a stone ceiling.

 

Yet none of that could possibly compare to the man who sat on the throne.  The King dressed modestly for royalty, wearing an outfit very much similar to mine except colored with purple and red and with a much thicker cape.  Yet in spite of his meager outward appearance, the man positively radiated power and vitality.

 

This was due to the fact that, like me, the King had been a Hero.  Long ago when the dragons waged war on this country, he did battle with the then Emperor of the Drakes, Naga Noctem.  Their fight was waged across several weeks and many a city was felled before the King finally stood victorious over the corpse of his foe.

 

Unfortunately, many lives were lost in the war including the previous royal family, save the last princess.  Obviously she married the Hero and he has ruled us ever since, eventually becoming a Saint and gaining everlasting life as an Apostle of the gods.

 

The two of us approached this man, bowing our heads and taking a knee before him.  Around us his Royal Court, various Nobles, and even many of the peasantry were watching.  Some with curiosity, others with amusement, and many with disdain for these commoners who had the audacity to appear before their King.

 

But the King was not like them, and with a slight smile on his face he said “Arise, my young Hero and arise my long time friend.”

 

We did as we were bid.

 

“Today, is a grand day.  Before us stands the first Hero to be birthed in Estora for a century, and it is with great pleasure that I am finally able to acknowledge you as such!  You who have been chosen by the gods to wield their holy power, I ask you-for whom do you fight?”

 

“For the innocent! For the vulnerable! For my King and my God! And for all of mankind!”

 

“And you who have been given the power of the gods, I ask you-for what do you fight?”

 

“For the safety of the masses! For the maiden's virtue! For the children’s future! And for the guarantee of a bright, rising sun on the morrow!”

 

“Yay to thee and thine heavenly missive, and I do bestow upon thee the title of Hero! May your sword never break, may your shield never dent and may your spirit never falter!  From this day forth, you are no longer Robert the Farm boy, nor Robert the Soldier.  You are Robert, the Hero of Light!”

 

All around us cheering erupted as a new hero was formally declared into existence.  Despite their apparent disdain the nobles joined in as well, as it wouldn’t do to reject a Hero accepted by the Saint King.

 

With my inauguration as a Hero came a full day of festivities, as well as a national holiday for all citizens to enjoy.  Most of it was taking place outside of the castle and I was eager to join in the fun, but before I could…

 

“Wait.”  The King said, gesturing for me “Come with me to my chambers for a moment, I wish to speak with you.”

 

I looked at my Master for a moment, unsure, but he waved me off and quickly pushed me toward the king.

 

“I’ll be with your mother and Curina at the festival, come find us afterwards.”  Captain Montague said, smiling.

 

I nodded, hurried over to the King, and the two of us left through another pair of doors behind the King's throne.  His room was down a short hall and, like the throne room, was covered wall to wall in expensive decorations.

 

“Now then.” The King said, sitting in a mahogany chair and offering me one next to it “firstly, I would like to commend you on your performance today.  If I hadn’t known any better I would have thought that you  had been raised as a nobleman of the highest order.”

 

“Thank you, your Highness,” I said, blushing slightly.

 

He smiled at me and said  “Now now, no need for embarrassment.  Although your clothes do look a bit too big for you…regardless, I didn’t call you here to talk about etiquette.  Rather, I have a task that needs sorting out and I would like you to be the one to take care of it.”

 

My head shot up.  A mission? This soon after my debut?

 

“Has something happened your Majesty?” I asked tepidly.

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.  Tell me child, are you aware of all of the incidents that have occurred over the past few years involving the White?”

 

For a moment I could feel my bloodlust go up again at the mention of the White.  The White was an unbelievably powerful young dragon that had torn a path through the Estoran countryside before disappearing into the Great Forest, where it was rumored the Dragon Stronghold stood.

 

“Yes, I know about the White.  Has that monster reappeared?”

 

The King did not answer at first, instead tenting his fingers and staring pensively at me, before saying “What do you know of the Demon Princes?”

 

“The Demon Princes?” I asked, confused as to what they had to do with anything “Well, I know that they are the antithesis to the Saints.  Each one of them wields the power of a devil and if one grows strong enough they can become a Dark Apostle, granting them the same longevity that the Saints have as well as a power boost and a whole host of other abilities.”

 

The King nodded. “Very good, I can see that Montague hasn’t skimped on your intellectual training.”

 

“Thank you for the compliment, your Highness, but what do Demon Princes and Dark Apostles have to do with anything?”

 

Once again, the King didn’t answer my question right away. Rather, he stood up and walked over to the wall and pulled on an unlit torch bracket that was hanging there.  The stone wall the bracket was attached to swung inward, revealing a secret passageway that led down into the underground of the castle.

 

“Come.” he said simply, beckoning me down into the darkness with him.

 

The trek to the bottom of the great stone stairwell took just over half an hour, and just as I was wondering how deep this castle must go we arrived at another set of doors, this time made of heavy stone slabs.

 

They looked far too heavy for a human to be able to push open, but the King didn’t appear to exert any force at all when he pressed his hand against the cool stone.  The air that we met with was cold, much more so than it should have been.  Our breath turned to mist upon contact with the it and I unconsciously began to shiver, as my noble raiment wasn’t exactly built with cold resistance in mind.

 

The room was a simple stone chamber that was lined with torches.  Peculiarly, these torches glowed with blue light rather than red or orange light and, if my suspicions were correct, they were responsible for generating the frigid cold temperatures.  Though, while they certainly were interesting, it wasn’t the torches that were the most intriguing thing about this place.

 

No, that had to be the chained up dragon in the center of the room.  It was large for a Minor Dragon, easily in the fifteen meter range, and yet I could sense no danger from it.  Or rather, I doubted that it was capable of endangering me anymore.  It’s eyes had been gouged out of its head and it’s horns were broken off. All four of its limbs had been amputated, the wounds cauterized, and it was covered from head to toe in festering sword wounds. The sharp spines that normally ran down a dragon's back had been destroyed as well and each of it’s scales had been plucked off, one by one, like a chicken's feathers.

 

Yet miraculously the dragon was still alive, as it turned its head toward us when it heard our approach.

 

“Please, kill me.” a voice, likely the dragon’s, rang out in my head.

 

“Perhaps.  If you behave.  First however, would you kindly tell my companion here everything you told me after all of those hours of ah, persuading, that I had to do to you.”

 

I stared at the beast for a moment, unsure of what was going on.  Why did the King have such a wretched creature chained up below his castle? I looked inquiringly at him for a moment and the King smiled and nodded his head, understanding my confusion.

 

“Where are my manners?  Robert, this is Bronn.  He recently attempted to wreak havoc on one of the towns bordering the Great Forest, but a portent of my elite guard just happened to be nearby on a routine training exercise and they put an end to his foolishness rightly.  Of course, I had him brought here where I could interrogate him and he told me quite a few interesting things.  Bronn? Be a good chap and share what you told me with our friend Robert.”

 

“If I do…will you let me die?” came Bronn’s forlorn voice.

 

“Hmm…oh, very well.  I will grant you the privilege.”

 

Bronn shuddered, and said “Th-Thank you, your Highness.” before retelling his story.

 

From what Bronn said, the White had arrived at the Dragon Stronghold a little over a year ago and thrust the place into chaos.  Apparently the dragons were having some sort of power struggle and he was at the center of it because…

 

“Because the White as you call him, is actually a Demon Prince.”

 

When I heard that I became dangerously close to losing my temper again and lopping off this dragon's head for bringing me such horrible news.  A dragon and a Demon Prince?! Had such a thing ever happened before?  Had there ever been a calamity on this level in all of recorded history?

 

I wanted to shout, but the King shushed me and allowed the dragon to continue with its story.  Unfortunately there wasn’t much more to tell, as Bronn had been ordered by a high ranking dragon to try and intimidate the Prince away from the castle.  He had failed though and was almost killed by the Prince.

 

Why the Prince hadn’t just finished Bronn, the dragon never found out.  He did make sure to describe in excruciating detail the game the Prince had played with him before letting him go.  According to the White, it was a game he enjoyed playing with humans as well.

 

After being ousted by the White, Bronn would travel north until reaching the outskirts of the forest and there he was captured by the King’s men and transported here for interrogation.

 

“I take it” the King started “That you now know what I desire of you Robert?”

 

I nodded.  “I will give it my all, Sire.  The next time that dragon appears, he will meet his doom at the end of my blade.”

 

The King smiled approvingly and placed his hand on my shoulder before pulling me into a fatherly embrace.

 

“I expect great things from you my boy.  For too many centuries I have sat atop the throne and watched as those I grew close to pass on.  Become a savior to your people.  Defeat that demon and become a Saint so that you can stand by my side.”

 

His heartfelt desire for a companion touched my heart, and for a moment I could feel tears welling in my eyes.  Here was a man at the pinnacle of humanity asking me, a farm boy from nowhere, to stand by him.

 

“As you command, your Grace.” I said through tears.

 

The two of us stood there for a moment more until the King broke our embrace and said to the dragon “Now then, Bronn, I believe it is time for your reward.  Have you any final requests?”

 

“N-No, your Highness just please…make it painless.  I’ve grown so tired of pain.”

 

“As you wish.  Robert, pay close attention.  This is the power you will have to wield if you want to become a Saint.” he said, snapping his fingers.  I didn’t sense him activating any skills, nor could I detect any spells being activated and yet…

 

“Ah…free at last…” Bronn said, his entire body dissolving into a fine red mist.  

 

I could not even determine the nature of the Kings attack, such was the power of a Saint.  I knew he was incredible, but in the end there was not a single word that came to mind to describe how fantastic the King truly was.

 

And I would not fail him.