Rowan’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “You’ll leave at first light the day after tomorrow. I know this won’t be easy, but we trust you to find the answers we desperately need.”
Riven rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in her gaze. “First light the day after tomorrow? If you want us to leave at a decent hour, you’ll need to start serving breakfast with that royal table talk.”
Elira chuckled under her breath, shaking her head at Riven’s antics. “I’d rather be facing down whatever’s lurking in those woods than listen to you complain about breakfast. We’ve got a job to do.”
Magnus, calm as ever, gave a small nod. “I’ll prepare some potions and magic for the journey. The land will guide us if we listen closely.” His gaze met the others, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
As the champions were making final discussions, the air in the room shifted subtly. The door opened, and a group of elder mages glided in, their robes a deep, midnight blue, adorned with silver threads that shimmered like constellations under torchlight. They moved with quiet authority, their gazes sharp and wise, each one carrying an artefact in their hands. A faint aura of magic enveloped them, radiating a calm, ancient power that seemed to soothe the weight of tension in the room.
The eldest among them stepped forward, a tall, slender figure with a crown of silver hair and eyes that gleamed with the knowledge of centuries. His robes were embroidered with symbols of protection and healing, and in his hand, he held a pendant carved from crystal, faintly glowing with a soft, golden light.
"Champions," he greeted, his voice low but resonant, echoing slightly in the vast chamber. “You embark on a journey fraught with dangers and dark magic beyond even your strength. To aid you, we have prepared charms and wards, crafted from ancient spells that have guarded Helia since its foundation.”
He raised the pendant, and the champions watched as it caught the light, refracting it into a soft, warm glow. “These charms will shield you from the worst of the Withered Woods’ curse,” he explained. “They are bound to Helia’s lifeblood, protecting you from the dark magic that has taken hold of those lands. Wear them close to your heart, and they will help shield your spirit.”
One by one, the mages approached each champion with an artefact crafted specifically for them. Each piece was distinct, moulded to fit the individual power and soul of the wearer.
Caelus’s fingers brushed the pendant, feeling its cool weight against his skin, and a strange sensation surged through him as the runes pulsed in harmony with his own magic. The hum of energy reverberated in his chest, a soothing yet unsettling presence, like a quiet force he couldn’t quite control. His gaze drifted from the pendant to the mage, and he felt a flicker of doubt stir in his mind. Would this truly protect him from the darkness that awaited? Could this small artefact, this unassuming token, really shield him from the suffocating malevolent energy that had claimed so much of Helia?
Caelus stood tall, straightening his shoulders, his hand momentarily resting over the pendant. His eyes hardened with resolve. I will remember the cause, he thought, even if it meant fighting against a fate he couldn’t yet fully understand.
Riven received a small bracelet woven from silver and a fine, thread-like material that glimmered with a greenish hue. The elder mage who handed it to her bowed her head slightly, her eyes solemn. “This will blend with your own aura, Zephira. It will shield you from dark visions and shadows that prey upon the mind. As long as you move within the winds, you shall not be lost.”
Riven slid it onto her wrist, and the moment it settled against her skin, she felt a comforting warmth spread through her, as though she had been enveloped in a protective embrace.
Elira's charm was a sturdy amulet made from polished stone, as solid as she was. Shaped like a miniature shield, it bore the symbols of Helia’s royal guard. The elder mage who offered it placed it gently in her hands, and her usually bold expression softened. “This amulet bears the strength of those who protected Helia before you, Valka. It will bolster your resolve and keep the shadows at bay.” She clenched the amulet in her hand, feeling the ancient strength of Helia’s defenders flow into her veins, an anchor for her steadfast heart.
For Magnus, a mage with kind, knowing eyes presented a small, intricate earring shaped like a twisting vine, its silver surface adorned with tiny emeralds that gleamed softly, catching the light like dew on leaves. The earring dangled delicately, as though a fragment of the ancient forest itself had been captured in metal. The mage leaned forward, fastening it to Magnus's ear with a whisper. “This earring, honoured Druid King, is blessed with the enduring strength of Helia’s forests. It will enhance your communion with nature, allowing you to draw upon the ancient woods for resilience, even in lands where life is dim and fading.”
Magnus touched the earring gently, feeling a surge of vitality flow from it, like roots connecting him to an unseen, sustaining force. His vibrant green eyes softened with gratitude, and he gave a faint, solemn nod to the mage. The earring felt as though it belonged to him, as if it were an extension of his own spirit entwined with Helia’s forests.
The elder mages turned next to Lorian, Darius, and Seraph, bringing with them artefacts designed to resonate with them.
For Lorian, a younger mage with a gentle demeanour approached, holding a delicate pendant that seemed to shimmer with its own light. Shaped like a teardrop, the pendant’s surface was crafted from white crystal that caught the room’s dim glow and refracted it in warm, flickering hues, like a contained flame. The mage carefully placed it around Lorian’s neck, his voice soft as he murmured an incantation. “This charm, Elowen, is tied to the pure fires of Helia. It will protect you from the corrupting forces of dark magic, amplifying your own flames to burn away illusions and curses. Let it be both your shield and your spark.”
Lorian’s silver eyes brightened as he touched the pendant, feeling a quiet hum of energy pulse through it, as if it were a steady heartbeat. His nervous fidgeting stilled, replaced by a calm resolve. Cheese gazed at the pendant curiously, his hands reaching out to touch it.
For Darius, a mage with a fierce gaze stepped forward, holding a small metal insignia emblazoned with the image of a dragon mid-flight. It shimmered in shades of red and orange, as if it held embers within its core. As the mage pinned it to Darius’s armour, he met the Dragon Knight’s steady, golden gaze. “Ragna, this insignia carries the spirit of Helia’s dragons. It will protect you from dark enchantments and will channel the memory of your bond with the dragons of old. It is a token of your kinship with the creatures who once guarded our skies.”
Darius lowered his head in a solemn nod, pressing his hand over the insignia. A faint warmth spread from it, as if rekindling the ancient bond he thought long severed, sparking memories of soaring with his dragon and the loyalty they had shared.
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Finally, an elder mage approached Seraph, this time holding a thin bracelet made of gleaming, polished obsidian. Delicate etchings in gold traced arcane symbols along its surface, and it was anchored with a single, amethyst gem that seemed to flicker with an otherworldly light. The mage placed it gently around Seraph’s wrist, his voice low. “Kaelith, let this bracelet guide your visions and guard against the weight of them. It is woven with wards to shield you from the grasp of malicious spirits and amplify only those truths you seek, leaving illusions to pass like shadows.”
Seraph’s pale eyes followed the bracelet as it settled onto her wrist, and for a moment, she seemed lost in its depths. The obsidian was cool to the touch, grounding her as if it were absorbing the anxiety and fears she carried. She closed her fingers around it, breathing out a sigh of quiet relief as the weight of past visions lifted, feeling a renewed sense of clarity and calm.
The elder mage stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the champions, the faintest trace of pride in his eyes. "Each of you carries a fragment of Helia’s heart within you now. Guard these charms carefully, and let them remind you that the kingdom stands with you, even in its darkest hour."
As the mages finished bestowing the artefacts, they stepped back, bowing respectfully before the champions. The room fell into a thoughtful silence, each champion quietly attuned to the new artefacts resting on their bodies, feeling more prepared—and more connected to the legacy of Helia—as they prepared for the dangerous path ahead.
“Ah, yes! I nearly forgot,” King Rowan suddenly remembered, straightening in his chair with a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Everyone, please check your Soulbound Interface,” he announced, his gaze sweeping across the champions.
At his words, they each raised a hand, summoning their Soulbound Interfaces. An iridescent shimmer appeared before each champion, expanding into a translucent, floating display panel unique to each individual. The interface glowed faintly, each one a slightly different hue that seemed to reflect the soul and essence of its user—Caelus’s deep blue, Riven’s shadowy grey, Lorian’s warm silver, Elira’s gold, Seraph’s purple, Magnus’s a pale green, and Darius’s crimson.
The interface revealed their statistics, skills, abilities, and a new Level indicator pulsed brightly in the corner. A shared murmur of surprise rippled through the champions as they realised their Levels had shifted—from Level 1 to Level 7. It was a significant leap, and the increase in power was immediately evident as they felt a surge of new energy settle within them.
Caelus stared at his interface, a hint of pride in his eyes as he scanned the updated Stats now accessible to him. He could feel a slight hum of power in his veins, a reassurance that he was indeed growing stronger, closer to his former might.
Lorian blinked at his interface, astonishment turning quickly to glee as he scanned the newly unlocked spells in his grimoire. “Ah, we levelled up!” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with uncontainable excitement. “Just like in a video game!”
Cheese, perched nearby, wobbled and jiggled in shared delight, his blue hue flashing a joyous shade of yellow as he watched Lorian practically giggle with enthusiasm. Lorian’s excitement was contagious, and he could feel a surge of energy flow through him, each new spell shimmering in his mind with fresh possibilities. He glanced around, catching the others’ smiles at his outburst, his excitement lifting the mood in the room as they took in the thrill of their newfound power.
Riven’s fingers traced the air in front of her interface, quietly scanning the new Stats tied to her agility and wind magic, feeling her confidence swell. A subtle, satisfied smile crossed her lips as she realised just how far they had come.
Elira let out a low whistle, her golden eyes glinting as she appraised the enhancements in her defences and barrier abilities. “Now we’re talking,” she muttered with a grin, glancing at the others. “Seems like we’re finally getting somewhere.”
“Yes, your Stats have increased quite a bit as you all have overcome strong foes,” Rowan explained with a warm smile, his own golden soulbound interface flickering into view. The ethereal display shimmered, listing his Stats, abilities, and a Level number that was anything but ordinary. “As you face enemies, craft potions, read, gain knowledge, or even take on new tasks, you’ll earn experience points and gradually level up. Of course, the stronger the foe, the more experience points you’ll gain. Meanwhile, smaller tasks, like cooking or studying, offer only modest gains.”
Elira’s eyes caught sight of his interface, her jaw dropping as she spotted his Level. “Level 125!? And you’re… so young?”
Rowan chuckled, the sound light but tinged with a hint of weariness. “Being king requires a lot of studying—combat, magic, politics, and countless other subjects,” he said with a faint smile. “Every bit of that training contributes to levelling up.”
Excitement rippled through the group as they pulled up their soulbound interfaces to examine their new Stats, trading glances and lighthearted jabs.
"Alright, looks like I’m leading in defence!" Elira announced with pride, her amber gaze glinting as she thumped her armoured chest, the metallic clang echoing through the room. She wore the title like a badge of honour, her strength a steady anchor for the others.
Beside her, Darius gave an approving nod, his massive frame a testament to his own indomitable endurance. "And I’m right behind you in HP,” he said, his voice rumbling with satisfaction. “Don’t go thinking you’ll be hogging all the heavy hits."
Elira smirked, crossing her arms. "I’d like to see you try, Dragon Knight," she teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Careful, Elira,” Riven laughed from across the table. “You two might just compete yourselves into an early grave.”
Darius chuckled and shot her a challenging look, his eyes gleaming. "Only if Elira can keep up," he replied, his grin wide and fearless.
“Well, you’ve got me beat there, Elira, but I’m right behind you,” Darius rumbled, his voice carrying a deep, warm confidence. He stretched his wings slightly, flexing the power stored within his scaled frame.
Meanwhile, Riven peered at her stats, a rare grin flickering across her face as she turned to Caelus. “Looks like we’ve got the highest attack scores. Good to know who I’ll be competing with.” She gave him a sly wink, and Caelus chuckled, pleased with his strength ranking as well.
“Don’t leave us mages out of it,” Lorian chimed in, a playful gleam in his eyes as he exchanged a glance with Magnus and Seraph. “Seems magic power is our specialty. Maybe that’ll come in handy for healing you when you all get too reckless.”
Seraph nodded, her gaze calm and thoughtful. “Indeed, the balance here is… promising. I think we’ll make a formidable team,” she said softly, her voice laced with a quiet certainty. Magnus smiled gently, mirroring her sentiment as he traced the Stats displayed before him, his eyes glimmering with a sense of purpose.
Their different strengths settled a newfound assurance among them, each champion recognizing their role within the group.
Rowan cleared his throat, his expression shadowed by concern. “I must stress this—The Withered Woods is a dark, cursed place. Keep this artefact with you at all times,” he warned, holding each champion’s gaze. “Without it, your minds may suffer. The curses there… they prey on one’s very sanity.” He exhaled, a faint tremor in his breath betraying his worry.
The champions exchanged looks, taking his words to heart. “We will, Your Majesty,” Caelus said, his voice steady as he reassured Rowan, sensing the weight of the king’s concern. Privately, he mused that Rowan was less like the distant royals of old and more like a trusted comrade, though he still addressed him with respect.
King Rowan’s shoulders relaxed, and he managed a warm, if weary, smile. “Good. That’s all. I pray for your success and safety in this mission. May fortune guide you all.” He inclined his head. “You are dismissed. Have a good day, Champions of Helia.”
The party grinned and exchanged glances, a shared pride lighting up their faces at the sound of their new title. Elira elbowed Darius with a mischievous smirk. “Yeah, Champion of Helia. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Darius let out a deep, booming laugh, clapping her on the back with a hearty slap that echoed through the hall. “Right back at you, Champion!” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. But Elira, not one to be outdone, smacked him even harder in return, sending him stumbling forward as they both burst into laughter, their friendly rivalry on full display.
Caelus watched them, a grin spreading across his face as he shook his head. “Such meatheads,” he muttered with a laugh, thoroughly amused by their camaraderie. There was a warmth in the room that hadn’t been there before—a shared sense of honour, duty, and friendship binding them together as they readied themselves for the road ahead.