Soren blinked, stretching his arms behind his head. When did I fall asleep?
He looked around to find he was no longer in his room, but in a large dome shaped sanctuary with depictions of war and death covering the inside roof.
As it turned out, some of the people from his school were there with him; fifteen in total. Most were classmates, but the teacher and even the school janitor was there as well.
So it’s not just a kidnapping.
Frank, the perfect jawed twat, was chatting with Sarah. He appeared to be consoling her.
Still has a crush on her, I guess.
Soren didn’t hang out with either of them. He had more in common with Kurt, as they both lived in low income housing.
A low baritone voice that radiated authority rang through the room. “Welcome, oh great heroes!”
Soren spun around to look at the speaker. He was a tall man with long white hair and a beard to match. His robes were silk, and golden rings sparkled on every finger. He held a book in one hand and a staff in the other. The podium he spoke from was raised high above the circle, clearly marking the man in charge.
“My name is Astarin, The Wise. I speak for the gods. They have commanded me to summon you in order to save the world. Be honored.”
A cheer rose in the room and Soren realized for the first time that there were balconies on either side, filled to the brim with exuberant spectators.
The priest raised his staff and the room went silent. Frank evidently saw this as a good time to address their kidnappers.
“Just two question?” Frank blurted out, his finger pointed straight at the elderly priest. “why the hell should we listen to you? Where are we? How do we get home?”
Soren slapped his palm against his forehead. That's three questions, idiot.
Astarin tilted his head up slightly, a grin spreading from ear to ear. His eyes sent chills down Soren’s spine. “Well, Sir Elis, could answer the first question?”
“Sir Wh—-”
Frank’s voice cut off abruptly, and Soren turned just in time to see the two halves of Frank’s body hit the ground on opposite sides of Sarah, spilling blood and viscera into her lap.
Sarah’s scream echoed through the vast room,
“Ugh, what a dreadful sound!” Astarin said. “Sir Elis…”
The armored knight stepped closer as Sarah continued to scream, the summoned watched in horror as the sword descended.
Her head hit the floor with a wet thud, causing a few summoned to relinquish their lunch, the acrid smell of bile mixing with the metallic scent of blood.
“Thats better. Now, I trust you all understand the situation clearly?”
Soren slowly raised his hand, drawing a terrified look from his teacher.
When Astarin saw the sixteen year old boy with his hand raised over his straight black hair he tilted his head “Oh? Another question?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Yes. Ummm… I was wondering… if it would not offend you… to inquire about the state of the world?” Soren asked, trying to sound as formal as possible.
“Well, I suppose with the polite request, I’ll oblige. You were summoned here to kill the demon king that was recently resurrected. If you would all check your status, we can more appropriately asses your potential.”
The janitor raised his hand. “How do we do that, your… Holiness?”
Astarin rolled his eyes. “Say status out loud.”
The other members of Soren’s group gasped, staring at thin air right in front of their faces.
After a moment to assure himself that no one’s head would explode, Soren finally said, “Status.”
A black window with fancy white script and charcoal gray boarders appeared before his eyes.
Name: Soren Blackford.
Level: 1 (EXP 0/100)
Class: Junior Apostle
Class Description: as you dedicate yourself to holiness you become more and more like your god.
Health: 130
Mana: 200
Str: 10
Dex: 24
Vit: 13
Wis: 20
Int: 17
Why in the world would I, the only atheist of the group, be an apostle? Soren thought. Maybe this god has a sick sense of humor.
“Fuck yeah, I’ve always wanted to be a hero!” Kurt blurted out. He had always a big fan of anime. One look at the gangly teen would lead a person to believe that he lived in a swamp; with his, more often than not, tattered clothes, shaggy hair and scars from all of the brawls he got into. He even swore he wrestled a alligator when he was four.
Considering his left hand was a prosthetic, Soren could believe it.
“No fair!” Molly whined. “All I got was a support class Saintess” She was a short, eighteen year old girl with short curly brown hair. She had enchanting hazel eyes and refused to even leave her house if she didn’t look fashionable.
How Kurt managed to get her to go out with him was a mystery Soren feared he would never know the answer to.
“That’s a heroic role in its own right,” Jason said. “I ended up with Shield Hero.”
“Wouldn’t want to be any of those suckers,” a new voice said off to Soren’s right.
Soren turned to see a tall native of the world standing next to him. He was different than the rest. He wore tattered black robes that draped off of his shoulders like a spider’s web. His thick black hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and he had the general air of a homeless goth.
“Suckers?” Soren asked.
The man laughed. “Please, there's a Demon Lord attacking. It’s better to just bottle yourself up in the capital and wait for it to get bored.”
“Won’t people die?” Soren asked.
The man gave Soren a bemused smile, turning his gaze towards the High Priest. “Tell me, boy, do you think he cares?”
Soren shook his head. “Clearly, he—-”
“Soren!” the teacher snapped. “Quit spacing out and tell the High Priest your class.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s—”
“Say Cleric,” the goth man hissed low enough that only Soren could hear.
“What?”
“Just say it.”
The urgency in the homeless man's voice made Soren change what he was going to say. “It’s Cleric.”
“I see,” Astarin said, quickly losing interest in Soren. “Well, at least some of you might be of use. Tonight, we throw a banquet in your honor and tomorrow your training begins.
“May Plaga lead you true.”
“May Plaga lead you true,” the spectators echoed.
Soren was pretty sure he had just joined a cult.
Only time would tell how quickly this would get him killed.