Jasmine awoke in her temporary room. For a second, she wondered as to her location. The flood of memories immediately informed her. They had finished their dinner with Lord Anthos. Discovering considerably more information on the noble. He was not only a descendant of a Japanese swordsman but also the Warden of Helgos.
The title was an imperial one, given to the high noble in charge of Helgos. The original Helgosian royal family disappeared a century ago, following the former kingdom's annexation. With this fashion, the vassal Kingdom of Helgos has no reigning monarch.
She found this situation odd, since the subjects of Helgos still refer to the realm as a kingdom. She had learned that the Kingdom of Tarkon still had a monarch. His ancestor yielded his crown to the first emperor during the war of conquest.
Shaking her head, she went through her morning routine. Some light stretches, followed by some kata forms. Her father always insisted on learning several martial arts. Her favourite was Krav Maga, with Japanese Ju Jitsu as a close second. By going through several forms, she sufficiently warmed up. She finished her routine with some pushups and situps.
The other intimate routines followed soon after, going to the bathroom, which thankfully had a plumbing. The bathroom resembled the ones from earth. There is a mirror, a washbasin and a bathtub. The toilet was just a hollowed-out chamber pot, feeding into the floor. Likely a sewage system was setup, hopefully with effectible drainage.
Each of these implements had some were analogue devices that ran on magic. The bathtub had a tap that manifested water when you touched a rune. Two runes existed, one for hot and the other for cold. The flame and ice symbols kind of gave it away. The wash basin had a similar setup. She did her business, went to the toilet, thanked whatever god there is, her period was only a week away. Finally, ending her morning routine with a pleasant soak in the tub.
Washed and refreshed, she left the room wearing her provided clothes. It was an annoying and baggy robe with the symbol of earth emblazoned on the front. It was a human fist clenching a boulder, something she didn’t understand. But supposed since the spirits deal in human affairs, they likely created insignias to cater for human involvement.
Emerging from her room, she caught sight of Peter in the hallway. He wasn’t paying attention, just pacing back and forth. Dressed in the traditional robes of the water spirit, he appeared to be hunched over. Approaching him, she finally noticed what he was doing.
Clutched in his hands was something she hadn't seen since elementary school. It was a GameBro, a portable game console the boys were so fond of. She never had much interest. Her father even said it was an exceptional waste of time. She had seen him play it a few times, of course she believed it would run out of battery, eventually.
Approaching the embroiled teenager, she looked over his shoulder. The tiny screen depicted a top-down perspective, with a little humanoid sprite moving through tall grass. “What game is that?” She asked, startling the engrossed teenager.
For a moment he was full of jump scare, but quickly calmed down at the sight of a familiar face. “Damn Jazz, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He responded, rather sarcastically, holding his heart like it would fall out.
Jasmine frowned. She did not like the nickname, but no matter how much she protested, he didn’t stop calling her that. She eventually resigned to the inevitable.
“It’s BattleMon Violet, my personal favourite. I am about to fill out my seventh slot with a wyvern type. The Elite Six will bow before my might.” He explained, thrusting his fist out like he was ready to conquer the world.
Jasmine neither understood nor cared about such things. She was never a geek, even back in her younger years. Too young for the adults, to mature for the teenagers. It made her an outsider no matter where she went. She wondered now and then during her time here. The yoke of her father was no longer around her neck. She could experience new things in this new world.
This line of thought was quick to cross her mind and quick to vacate. She would ponder it later. For now, something intrigued her. “That thing must have one hell of a battery capacity. How is it still running?” She inquired, recalling not a single electrical outlet in this medieval world.
Peter only smiled, gesturing the portable console forward. His finger tapping the clearly non-commercial modifications. Looking carefully, there appeared to be several strips of solar panels embedded in the plastic. Understanding dawned on her. The damn thing was solar powered.
“Did you do that?” She asked, genuinely impressed.
He smiled smugly, exuding the air of a misunderstood genius. “Yeah, I always misplaced my charger and I enjoy tinkering. So, I hooked up a bunch of solar panels and, boom, unlimited power!” He spoke with gravitas, raising the GameBro like it was a holy relic. “It was convenient I did so, the major problem with medieval fantasy worlds. No electrical outlets, that and no vanilla coke. Damn, I miss the divine beverage.” He spoke longingly, eyes cast into the distance.
Jasmine nodded, accepting his words and admiring the ingenuity. She misjudged the teen, initially thinking he was just a scattered, brained geek. Adjusting her internal opinion of him, she quickly segued to important topics.
Informing him they have a festival to attend in a few hours. He looked at her, confused for a second, before his memories kicked in. She would have chided him, but decided not to. Instead, they made their way to Lucy’s room. Picking her up, they head to the meeting area.
The festivities were being setup, so they waited, having a few snacks provided by servants. She pondered if they were slaves. Slavery had been an economic staple for much of human medieval history. Given this world was still stuck in the Middle Ages with magic, she couldn’t help but wonder. When she asked the female servant named Lisette, she admitted she was a paid employee.
Comforted at least that slavery was at least not pervasive. Jasmine kept a lookout, but even if she found it, what could she even do about it? Petition the Emperor or the Spirits to abolish it. Her own nation's history had to settle in a civil war. With the upcoming war between the Empire and the Federation. Which, now she thought about it, would be the fantasy equivalent of World War one.
The length and breadth of this world's political issues reminded her of the early nineteen tens of earth. The world, or at least the major continent, tittering on the edge of oblivion. She wondered if the history books in the future would call it the great war or the continental war. Maybe no one will remain to write.
Her musings lasted for nearly the entire trip to meet and greet. Eventually, they found their wayward companion, the adorable Lucy. She had gone exploring throughout Anthos' manor. They found her having a conversation with a fireplace. Apparently, the fire or spirit was a pleasant fellow. Jasmine didn’t want to get into it. The concept of talking to the elements always weirded her out. Ironic considering, some sort of rock spirit blessed her.
Pulling her away from her riveting conversation, they finally reached the meeting room. They soon received a briefing on the happenings. Last night there were several jovial and drunk Helgosians tearing up the strip. Finally, it was time to reveal the great heroes to the populace.
Jasmine, Peter and Lucy found themselves seated on rather lavish seats, set upon a stadium. Before them was a crowd of onlookers dressed in medieval attire. One could realistically call them peasants, but several of them wore wizards' robes. The crowd had way more wizards than she had ever seen in the capital.
She pondered on the differences between the rest of the empire and the kingdom of Helgos. She had the cliff notes version of events. The spirits blessed a human, and he conquered the kingdoms and man and install the spirit of worship and magic. Wizards, of course, are still around, but there is an obvious disdain for them. Here in Helgos, things are different, likely because wizards found this kingdom.
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Pulling herself again out of her reverie, she cast her glance across the procession. The typical people joined them at the stadium. Lord Anthos was up on the podium, speaking to his people. The three bodyguards of the heroes stood over to the side. One figure she only briefly met just recently sat with a collection of high nobles.
The seats off and to the left had several of the Helgosian nobility seated. Most of them were easily identifiable. They wore fine tunics with a scarf wrapped around his neck. She learned yesterday that the scarf identified them as Helgosian nobility. Old nobility from the original kingdom. They were the old wizard families. at least that’s what Jasmine heard. The scarves each had distinct patterns and colours, likely woven in the sigil of their house.
What really took her attention was the man without a scarf. Without such attire, he was probably not a noble or simply misplaced it. Turning to her bodyguard, she whispered an inquiry. “Who is that?” She asked.
Halmar looked down inquisitively before shifting his eyes to the man. “That is Johnathan Stillson. He is a merchant of some wealth, much involved in the kingdom's politics.” He explained, not giving much in the way of details.
She nodded, accepting the information. It fit with her initial deduction. The way the man carried himself as he moved, spoke and sat down. It was familiar and reminded her much of her own father. This man was someone to observe, but for now, she had larger concerns.
The festival was in full swing. Lord Anthos sufficiently stoked the crowd's joy. They were cheering, yelling to support the Empire and the Heroic Trinity. It made the three nervous, to different degrees. A mild emotional flutter with Jasmine, a searing nervousness within Peter and fear within Lucy. The three were not ready for this. Jasmine knew it and her concern never wavered.
She knew their position and the expectations of the Empire. What she didn’t know was how to get out of it. No doubt the thrill of adventure and heroism overjoyed the darker parts of her heart. Still, the pragmatic nature she had beaten into her reared its ugly head. This was not a helpful situation, and she needed to do something.
But for now, she had to look like a hero in front of a bunch of clamouring medieval subjects. She waved to them as per their suggestion. The crowd grew louder, chanting praise the spirits or praise the heroes. They reminded Jasmine of the attendees of a rock concert. The courtyard below was the mosh pit.
It made her nervous, but she stamped down that feeling. Soon enough the time came, Anthos directing herself to rise and attend him. She rose slowly; her gaze never leaving the bustling crowd. In the corner of her eye, she noticed an odd figure in the crowd. He or she was wearing wizards' robes, their face concealed by a cowl. This wouldn’t have been atypical, except the figure was glowing.
The glow seemed like a cosmetic effect, perhaps some spell or magical quality. She had several thoughts about potential fashion trends. Yet the pulsating glow, the reaction of the surrounding people, gave her a different idea. Despite her caution, the next set of events was undeniable.
An explosion rocked the stadium. The glowing attendee quickly ceased his glow, only to explode in fire and blood. This act of demolition annihilated the groupings of innocents in their immediate vicinity. There was no question of their survival rate, they were no longer whole beings. The devastation spread its tendrils of death outwards, cutting a swath of fire throughout the crowd.
Death carved its way in every direction, reaching the stadium and sending the closest figures to fly back. The heroic trinity and their bodyguards were neither spared nor seriously hurt. Thrown off their feet or their seat, the entire contingent of nobles, heroes, bodyguards and that one merchant found the floor without grace.
The sound was deafening, the screams even more so. Jasmine tried to get her thoughts in order. It was an arduous task. Physically, she was fine. She had noted a while back her constitution would make several comic book superheroes jealous. At least this was according to Peter. He tended to geek out every time she went all Supergirl on something. She preferred the term superwoman, but that opened another can of worms she shut the lid on. Never have an argument about comic books with a geek. It's like arguing with a scientist in the world being flat.
She was the first to recover from the blast. Rising to her feet with all the strength she could muster. The amount of strength in her body was considerable. So considerable. In her quiet moments, she legitimately scared herself over the damage she could cause. Scanning the scene, she witnessed a horror that put every image or video to shame.
She had been aware of terrorist attacks in the past. She had seen a few terrorist attacks on the news, but authorities always concealed the carnage from the public. This was not a newsreel, and they held nothing back. She turned her face from the carnage. It made her sick to her stomach. She could not bear to gaze upon charred corpses, stripped of life and left without shape.
Putting her mind to the immediate damages, she eyed her companions. Peter sprawled across the ground, knocked out and unmoving. Lucy was completely unharmed and weeping at the horrific sight. Her guardian and knight had risen to protect her. Cradling the young child, ready to vacate this dangerous area.
Scanning the rest of the stadium, everybody seemed to be alive, with only superficial injuries. The merchant, known as Stillson, rose from his slumped position. His gaze was distant, unfazed by the carnage. He seemed more concerned with the meagre dust that tainted his clothes. He cleansed his pristine outfit with a few minor taps.
Stillson shifted his gaze to the crowd, narrowing his gaze on a particular figure. Another robed figure was glowing in the second half of the crowd, ready to spread more death. His figure vanished in a flash before he annihilated the clamouring and fearful people. A shadow cast across the area, pulling the glowing man from the crowd and raising him high.
Jasmine's gaze rose with the man, to notice his squirming form clutched by another figure. Held aloft with a hand clenched around his throat. Tracing the arm to the rest of the body revealed an alarming sight. It was a man floating on air, suspended in the sky. His body was muscular and lean, neither weightlifter nor Olympic athlete. His face was sharp with a square jaw, blonde hair, and red eyes.
He held a rugged, handsome air about him, compounded by his garb. Wrapped in a thin dark tunic, layered in gaudy steel armour. Pauldrons hung upon his shoulders; each a dragon's head ready to consume. Trailing down his back was a blood red cape, fluttering in the wind.
He appeared, at least in her eyes, a medieval superman. She wasn't totally inept regarding comics, but she wasn’t completely ignorant. Peter had added to her knowledge base. He went on a tangent or ranted. Regardless of comics, this fellow was real and clearly flying.
Clenching his hand around the glowing man's throat, his victim desperately tried to free himself. These actions proved fruitless, and he appeared to lean back on his initial mission. The detonation followed, and another explosion rocked the area. The frightened peasants scrambled to take cover, but when the rain of death didn’t come, they all looked to the heavens.
Despite the explosion, the flying man was unruffled and without a single trace of scorch or injury. Appearing like an invincible and gallant hero looking down upon a world he planned to correct. “Hear me enemies of Helgos, your evil ends now!” He declared with finality and a booming voice to back it up.
Before he could even say another word, several figures glowed in the crowd. Three men prepared to turn this entire district to rubble. The man above only smirked, his cape fluttering in the wind. A second later, he vanished, moving faster than the eye can see. In a flash, the man whisked two of the kamikaze men into the sky.
They exploded in the distance, leaving only one remaining. Unlike the others, he directed his palms, channelling the glow away from his body. After the civilians had vacated the area, the crowd trampled each other to escape death. A flame illuminated the air; The energy focused and directed at his enemy.
Swooping down, the hero took the brunt of the blast. The light encompassed his form, only to wink out a moment later. Leaving him undamaged, a statuesque Grecian God, ready to rain down wrath. “My turn.” He declared, steam rising from his lips.
Inhaling a deep breath, a flood of heat and plasma poured forth in a concentrated beam. The energy exited his maw, annihilating the upper half of the man's body. Leaving only a partial form, absent his torso. The body, or whatever it was, slumped to the ground, spilling intestines and blood. It was a gruesome, albeit efficient, method of dispatch. It sent chills down Jasmine's spine; this individual was dangerous.
Following the deaths of these apparent terrorists, the crowd had a sudden shift in manners. Some were still fleeing and yelling, yet a wave of interest crossed many others. They watched the flying hero attentively until they burst into cheers. The now beloved hero extended his arms as if he was drinking in their praise.
"People of Helgos, you are protected," he declared, urging the crowd to cheer louder. I, Drakon, shall defend you from any threat! He declared for all to listen, encouraging the crowd to cheer louder.
Jasmine found the scene incredibly odd. There were corpses everywhere, yet they were cheering. They heard rustling sounds from behind. She turned back, noticing Peter rising to his feet.
“No way dude, it's superman!” His excitement was obvious, pointing a finger at Drakon.
Shaking her head, Jasmine inspected the damage. She could already see the Helgosian guards arriving to assist the wounded. Drakon was still drinking in their praise, a smile on his perfect face. It seemed a tad smug to her, but then again, she had never met a real superhero.
Before the situation could get out of hand, the guards pulled her and the rest of the trinity away from the stadium. Just as she was leaving, an explosion resounded from the distance. Pulling everyone's gaze, the sight of a castle blasted to smithereens. This drew the gaze of Drakon. He posed for a moment before taking flight towards the explosion.
Just before he left, Jasmine noticed a subtle nod between Drakon and the stadium. Casting her gaze to Mr Stillson, she could see him on his feet, his stony gaze watching the heroes exit. Soon after, the scene changed, replacing his visage with the interior of a waiting room. Someone took the young heroes away from the crime scene and led them to the safety of a lord's residence.