The funny thing about being utterly terrified is that the mind eventually decides enough is enough and shuts itself down.
So when Rowan found himself hurtling through miles of air, he was all about the hurtling part of the equation for the first few minutes. After his mind shut off? Well, it was one really stunning view.
Really put things into perspective. I guess instead of a last meal, I’m getting a last sight.
“Aaaaaaaahhhh!” Blake’s scream ruined the moment.
“Would you please stop screaming!” Kayla was a notch more cranky than anyone else, but it was profoundly funny that she’d find issue with Blake’s screaming when there were… more pressing issues.
Blake quieted down as a huge smile stretched across his face. His scream didn’t contain an ounce of panic or fear. It was an expression of unadulterated exuberance, and his arms were outstretched like he was trying to hug the world itself.
“And you, Rowan. Why did you think it was a good idea to flip off a goddess!” Kayla yelled.
Rowan managed to shrug his shoulders and hoped Kayla got the message. “I thought it was a dream! And she was being rude! How was I supposed to know that they were real?”
“The idea that maybe, just maybe, we were talking to a whole pantheon of gods and it’d be good to play things safe?” Kayla shouted back. “Now we’re all going to die.”
“The view,” Blake shouted. “It’s worth it.”
He was right. The planet underneath was absolutely massive. There was no hint of the spherical shape. Just tons and tons of landmass and water, like a painting with an assortment of blue and green colors.
Definitely not Earth. That’s for sure.
They weren’t going to die. At least Rowan didn’t think so. If the gods took offense to his little display of disobedience, they could have just thrown them into a vat of lava instead of going through all the trouble of dropping them out of the air.
Unless the goddess got super pissed and tampered with something. So instead of being sent to a new world, we’re going to be splats on that new world.
The ground was starting to get close. Rowan could see that they were aimed at the absolute center of what looked like a city, into the largest and most notable structure around.
Well, it was a good run, if a bit short.
Moments before his violent reunion with the ground, Rowan turned to the sky and flipped off the gods one last time.
It might have been a bit premature. His bones weren’t turned to mush, and he was very much not a kebab as the group somehow slipped past the structure’s pointy spires. Their descent slowed to a near stop. The inertia of all that force should have ended them. Instead, Rowan felt oddly airy and light as his feet drifted the last few inches and touched down on the ground.
Actual, solid ground.
“Hmm…. Three? Fortuitous. Welcome, heroes!”
The words snapped Rowan back into the moment. He had been staring blankly ahead of himself, still trying to process the fact that he was still alive.
Rowan raised his eyes from the floor to take in the speaker. The man was wearing pristine white robes. The top of his head was graced by a few clinging gray hairs, but that didn’t detract from his stature. Next to him were a dozen spear-toting guards as well as two metal-armored knights.
Where Rowan wasn’t sure what to do and Kayla seemed content with glaring at anyone and everyone, Blake took everything in stride.
“Thank you, dear sir! By the grace of the gods, I am here!” Blake said as he stretched his hand out for a handshake.
Rowan, to put it lightly, cringed. The speaker too. His smile cramped at the edges before he found the right response.
“And we are glad, heroes. You have come to our kingdom in a time of great need. The demons are gathering. Heroes, the kingdom needs your support.”
“Happy to help. Just let me know what to do,” Blake proclaimed.
“And we thank you for that,” the speaker replied.
“Who are you?” Kayla demanded.
“A priest,” the speaker said.
“What does that mean?” Kayla asked.
“I practice magic as a follower of the Goddess Sarina. May her holy light shine upon us all.”
While Kayla tortured the priest with her questions, Rowan glanced around the room. The floor they stood on was marked by a glowing magic circle. Golden statues that looked suspiciously similar to the gods they had recently met were lined around the edges of the room.
“I understand that you have many questions,” the priest said, likely already tired of Kayla’s questions. “However, before all else, I must ask you that follow me. You have an important audience to attend, and I hope you will show poise when you do.”
“What if we don’t want to?” Kayla thrust her chin out defiantly.
One of the knights unsheathed his sword. A pretty good answer to her question.
The priest turned and went toward one of the room’s doorways. Blake fell behind the priest, and after a few soft grumbles, Kayla and Rowan followed suit.
Beyond the arched doors was a series of sweeping fields. In the distance, walls tall enough for giants met the sky. As Rowan glanced backwards, he realized where they had landed.
A palace. A real damn palace in a real castle.
As the group made their way forward, they were greeted by row after row of soldiers practicing maneuvers with spears in their hands. Whatever was happening here was serious business. Rowan wondered if there was some kind of a war going on.
One thing was certain. The soldiers would falter in their drills and glance at the passing convoy of priest, knights, and three very out-of-place Earthlings. Some of the braver ones would even give whoops of joy before their instructors cut such celebrations short.
After what felt like a very long walk, the priest made a sharp turn and led them to a new set of fields where there were more training dummies than people. Unlike the packed soldier fields, these fields had servants holding towels and trays lining the fences.
The men and women using these fields, and Rowan noticed near equal numbers of both, were much more impressive. They were built like world-class athletes, and each move they made produced audible gusts of wind. Their swords and axes screeched through the air, impacting the training dummies with staggering amounts of force.
As they walked, some of the people paused their training and openly stared at them. Rowan stared back. At some point, the priest took another turn and headed back toward the palace.
They want us to see something. The troops? Or is it the other way around, they wanted to parade us in front of everyone?
The priest picked up his pace on the way back and they soon found themselves inside a new hallway. But for a palace, the halls were oddly stark.
The only decoration were giant paintings drawn in painstaking detail. Everywhere Rowan looked, the painting depicted men locked in combat with monstrous beasts of every conceivable size and shape. The most disturbing of them was a painting of an army marching against a solid wall of darkness. There was a vividness to the image that chilled Rowan’s blood.
So the gods still sent us to die. Just in a more roundabout way.
The priest ushered the group into a massive space fit for an audience with a king. Which was exactly what happened.
“Step forward, heroes, and let me have a look at you. The souls who will stem the tide of demons threatening our lands.” The voice that boomed out as soon as the doors were open was magnetic and powerful. The space itself was half-full with lushly clothed men and women, with pockets of knights behind each of them. But the highlight of the room was the man who was evidently the king.
The throne the king sat on was not glamorous. It was there to highlight the man who sat on it, not the other way around. The king himself was powerfully built with a wide set of shoulders. There was a sword on his hip, and the pommel was inlaid with gemstones of every shape, size, and color. But what caught Rowan’s attention was the king’s gaze. Flickering up and down, the man’s pale-green eyes weighed the trio’s worth.
The show of soldiers in the field and the spartan halls with bloody paintings all suddenly made a lot more sense.
Here’s a man ready to do whatever needs to be done for his kingdom’s future.
That’s when something a smidgen distracting happened. A blue box, floating in midair, appeared in front of his face.
Ding!
Wisdom: +1
Rowan flinched. He looked around at the others, but none of them seemed to see the blue screen. Or if they did, they were giving Oscar-worthy performances of non-reaction.
System Initialization.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Please stand by…
System, like, a game system? A status? The words suddenly floating in front of Rowan were entirely disinterested in his inner turmoil, and drudged on relentlessly.
Soul Scan… Complete.
Physical Scan… Complete.
Mental Scan… Complete.
User Initialization Complete.
Welcome to Zeimal.
The hallucinations, because that’s what they obviously were, disappeared a second later. Just in time for the king’s next set of speeches.
“Heroes, the fate of our kingdom rests on your shoulders. The demons are marching and a demon king has been sighted. The gods have sent you, along with others, to fight against the demons and save humanity. We, the kingdom of Rhys, stand behind you.”
“Thank you, King …” Blake’s voice trailed off.
“Harold. Harold Rhys the first,” the king stated. “Heroes, it is now time for you to become a full citizen of our world and receive a blessing from the gods.”
The king nodded at the priest, who flicked his hand and showered a warm mist over the three of them. For a few seconds, nothing happened, leading Rowan to think that this was a case where the symbolism was more important than the actual substance. But those thoughts scattered immediately when a full band of triumphant trumpets blared in his ear. In front of him, a new box forced its way into Rowan’s view. This one, however, didn’t have the standard blue background and was instead golden with intricate filigree adorning its edges.
Congratulations. The gods have deemed you worthy of a Blessing!
Aristaeus, The God of Soldiers and Rural Craft, has looked on you favorably.
Blessing of the Stalwart Hero (Aristaeus, The God of Soldiers and Rural Craft)
Grade: Unique
Description: You are the determined champion of the people.
Effects:
1. When fighting with allies nearby, the whole group receives more experience and loot depending on your contribution.
2. When fighting with allies nearby, your damage resistance is enhanced.
3. When fighting alone, you’ll be more likely to encounter streaks of bad luck.
4. Believers of the God Aristaeus will aid you in your journey.
As Rowan finished reading the screen, he glanced at Kayla and Blake. This time, they seemed to get the same message and were staring into the blank space in front of them. So whatever was happening was personalized to each individual.
Rowan read through the blessing again. With mentions of experience and loot, it felt like he was in some kind of game. Something that shouldn’t be possible. But after his experience with the gods and subsequent plunge through the sky, he hesitated in making a firm judgement. At least for now, everything seemed real enough, if only a bit strange.
Luckily, it seemed like Rowan had a choice in everything.
Do you wish to accept this blessing?
WARNING: Declining a blessing will severely limit your advancement.
Yes / No
Rowan’s first instinct was to hit the no button.
As if the priest could read his mind, he spoke up again. “The gods are shining down upon you, heroes. Accept your divine blessings, they will aid in your journey against the demons. May Goddess Sarina protect you all.”
Rowan scanned through his blessing again. There was no way that the priest was pronouncing Aristaeus as Sarina. A different god blessed me. That kind of makes sense, especially given that I did offend one of the goddesses. A god of soldiers and rural crafts doesn’t sound too bad.
He mentally hit the ‘yes’ button.
Status Screen Activated.
Rowan Clairfont
Level 0 Unclassed (+)
EXP: N/A
STR: 5
VIT: 5
DEX: 5
PER: 5
INT: 5
WIS: 6
Deck (0/4):
* [Heart] Empty
Blessings:
* Blessing of the Stalwart Hero (Aristaeus)
“Let me reassure you, heroes. What you witness before you is no trick or illusion. All citizens of our world, Zeimal, are given a blessing by the gods and obtain a status screen that details our attributes,” the king thundered. “The gods have another gift to bestow upon you. Your heart card. It is now time to see what path you are meant to tread. Priest, draw the inspection circle.”
The priest sank to his knees and his lips moved in prayer. Rowan traded a glance with his two companions and saw equal confusion in their eyes.
A moment later, spools of light began to unravel from the priest, drifting down to the ground where they resolved into various symbols that eventually made up a glowing circle. When the spectacle was done and the circle was softly glowing, the priest stood back up and motioned for the heroes to stand at the center.
“Announce yourself one at a time and step into the circle so that all may witness the gift you have been granted,” the king declared.
Blake didn’t need extra encouragement. He practically leapt into the glowing magic circle. “My name is Blake Trevlin. I am one of the chosen heroes!”
Even before his introduction was done, a solid pillar of purple light erupted around Blake. For all of his excitement, Blake flinched at the change. In contrast, the nobles leaned forward as they focused their attention on the image of a card resolving itself above Blake’s head.
The card showed a figure holding a sword of solid light against a squirming background of darkness. Accompanied by the card was a floating blue screen, one that seemed visible to all, judging by the reactions in the room.
Advanced Runic Configuration (Inspect) has found:
Light Scion
Grade: Epic
Blessed by: Goddess Sarina
Seconds later, the hovering card plunged into Blake’s chest and the newly minted hero slumped to the ground. Everything happened so quick that Rowan didn’t even have a chance to react.
“Help Hero Blake stand!” the king commanded. The priest gingerly walked into the magic circle and helped Blake to his feet.
Before Blake was back upright, the nobles exploded in shouts.
“Hero Blake, in my house, you will find the most staunch supporter, our skill with the sword…”
“Your skill? My house has produced a Sword Master every generation!”
“Hero, our family’s skill with light spells…”
“Enough!” The king’s soft words overpowered the nobles' bickering. “Hero Blake, that’s an excellent card. Light Scion. Anyone in possession of it would be considered most fortunate. You are meant to follow the path of the Paladins, and we will speak more on the subject later. I believe it’s the lady’s turn.”
The priest nodded for Blake to exit the circle on the side, which he did after flashing a quick grin at the nobles.
“What if we’d rather keep our blessing private?” Kayla asked. Her voice was flinty, like she was gearing up for a fight.
“It’d be in your best interest to share your blessing with us. We cannot support you properly otherwise.” When the king’s voice fell, the knight that had brought them to the throne room took a step forward.
Kayla got the message.
“Kayla Evans,” Kayla announced her name like it was a defiant challenge as she stepped into the circle.
The light show repeated itself, though the card that emerged was decorated with an intricate figure turned to the left. Overlapping the figure was a ghostly figure facing to the right.
Advanced Runic Configuration (Inspect) has found:
Echoing Whisper
Grade: Epic
Blessed by: God Ziraela
Kayla left the circle as soon as she was able, and as she did so, Rowan noticed the way the runes dimmed. Concentration creased the priest’s face, and he slumped a little as the circle regained its glow. Clearly, there was a cost associated with the entire process.
Perception: +1
Rowan ignored the message as he glanced toward the nobles. Unlike their shouts of support before, they now mumbled among themselves as they looked in the king’s direction.
It’s not the card, can’t be. It doesn’t look too different from what Blake had. The only other variable here is her blessing. Ziraela.
Rowan made a note of the god’s name.
“I believe that Hero Kayla will have a bright future with the Mage’s Tower,” the king said. And Rowan could almost hear the nobles releasing their collective breath. “It is quite fortuitous indeed that we are blessed by talented heroes. Of course, that leaves our third hero. I am quite curious to see where his talents lie, since both might and skill are now covered. Three heroes instead of two, it must be Sarina’s blessing.”
The change in topic was not exactly subtle, but it still worked.
Rowan used the silence that followed to ask a question. “Excuse me. Your majesty, but when you say ‘instead of two,’ what does that mean?”
“Young hero, that’s a good question. In the past, two heroes have been summoned to our kingdom when a demon wave is coming. The first hero has enormous physical might, and the second soul has great magical talent. To see three of you among us today is a sign of how much Sarina favors our kingdom.”
The king had a self-satisfied air about him, and his words had provoked murmurs of agreements from the nobles.
A shadow of doubt began to cross Rowan’s mind. It was evident that Goddess Sarina held a lot of sway in the kingdom and he had insulted one of the goddesses earlier. No way, it can’t be.
Stepping into the runic circle, Rowan waited as the lights appeared around him. Soon, a purple card with a golden halo sprouted out of thin air above him. The card gracefully descended, stopping in front of his face.
As Rowan’s eyes focused, he saw a picture of an indistinct figure gripping a spear, the tip pointed at some unseen foe. Darkness swirled around the figure, but the person’s eyes shone with a determined golden light. The edge of the card was engraved with an intricate border, and at the top, in the most beautiful font Rowan had ever seen, were the words: Keen Spear.
Ding!
Advanced Runic Configuration (Inspect) has found:
Keen Spear
Grade: Epic
Restriction: This card locks the cardholder out of wielding other weapons.
Blessed by: God Aristaeus
The card jabbed into Rowan. It felt exactly like how it sounded. It was like someone was performing surgery, rummaging and rearranging things inside his body like it was a furniture showroom.
When the pain passed and Rowan straightened himself out, he found the room deathly quiet. The massive space echoed with silence.
The first person who broke the quiet was a red-faced, sputtering noble. He pointed a crooked finger at Rowan as if a great injustice had been done.
“This is ridiculous! What kind of hero relies on a spear?”
The words broke the silence in the hall and a moment later, the other nobles joined in the outcry.
“Aristaeus? What will the ordinary soldiers think?”
“We must make sure that news of this doesn’t leave the room. Rhys is a kingdom blessed by Goddess Sarina, a greater god. If news that a hero with such a blessing got out…”
“I demand a Trial by Blood!”
Rowan could see violence in the eyes of the nobles. Keeping hope, he turned to the throne. There was only one person whose opinion really mattered in this room. Unfortunately, Rowan found the king glaring at him with cold eyes.
Well shit.
The only piece of good news came from Blake and Kayla. The two of them, despite the much warmer reception from the kingdom, stepped into the magic circle again to stand beside Rowan. And the dozen guards who had been part of their original welcoming convoy also rushed forward to protect them, their spears gripped in white-knuckled fear.
There was something very wrong with the situation, that much was obvious. But there was something tugging at the far ends of Rowan’s consciousness that screamed danger.
As one of the nobles pushed a guard’s spear away, Rowan realized what was wrong.
The guards were holding spears. They were dressed in cotton and boiled leather tunics, simple clothing. But the knights behind the nobles were clad in full metal armor. More importantly, the knights had an array of different weapons from swords to axes to even morning stars.
But no spears.
So when a metal-clad knight buried their sword into a spear-holding guard, Rowan was pretty sure he was going to die.