In order to understand the importance of Adelade’s statement, it is important to understand what the term ‘hero’ means. In this world, hero was a broad term that referred to individuals that arose occasionally from out of seemingly nowhere and left great impacts on the world. Many of these heroes often said they came from a ‘land far to the east’ but numerous searches by the many nations of the world never seemed to find this far-east land. There were others who said they came from other places as well, but some just claimed to be of the country where they arose from.
Wherever a hero appeared or claimed to be from, they all broadly exhibited at least one of three elements: extraordinary physical and mental condition beyond anyone of any nation, extraordinary weapon skills, magical skills, or even both that again were beyond anyone, and innovative ideas, technologies, and policies. Frequently, the country a hero appeared in was never the same after they died, and sometimes even the neighboring countries as well. Eventually many of these things were spread throughout the world, such as the pencil-like writing tool, and every country benefited in some way. The benefit for the country of origin was the greatest though.
The complication with heroes was that there were many types. Some were benevolent while others were scoundrels. Just as many operated independently as joined nobility and governments. For example, there were many reports of heroes who lifted up the commoners, or joined just military causes, but there were a handful of heroes who impregnated royalty and fled. The last example was met with both disgust and delight, since the offspring of a hero tended to have some of their hero parent’s ability, but the princesses were often deemed ineligible for political marriages. The apparent familial benefit had never exhibited itself in any hero’s grandchildren, but it was still a mark of prestige to have the bloodline of a hero in one’s noble house. There was reportedly a far away city-state that claimed to consist of every hero’s bloodline to have ever appeared in the world.
Since heroes had such great potential for both order and chaos, something of a list of secret rules about how to deal with heroes had sprung up among all people, but especially the nobility, worldwide:
1. Get the hero on your side quickly.
2. Exploit the hero’s abilities relentlessly.
3. Don’t let the hero learn the second rule.
Since those that controlled a hero would essentially decide the next several decades in the surrounding area, presuming they succeeded on the first secret rule, it was almost considered a free-for-all competition when a hero was discovered. Most commoners, innately realizing their disadvantage in this competition, simply stayed out of the way by not interfering or simply not acknowledging the power a hero brought to them. As such, this competition for heroes played out between primarily nobles, royalty, and countries.
An echoing smack resounded through the palace gardens of the Kingdom of Sengar. Quinn touched the reddening skin of his cheek where Adelade had struck him, pulled from his indecent thoughts he had just been having.
“Did you hear what I said, Prince Pervert?”
“What?” Quinn faltered.
“I said a hero has appeared in the kingdom,” she sighed.
Quinn stared at her, as the words were unusually slow for him to process at the moment.
“Oh,” he finally said, “OH!”
A hero was here, in Sengar. He turned to Wyen, who looked just as shocked as he did himself.
“We have to move on this now! Wyen, call my Shadow unit!” Quinn ordered as he turned back to Adelade, “We’re going to my office. Tell me everything you have heard.”
While Wyen ran off to summon Quinn’s Shadow unit, Adelade, Fang, and Quinn ran back to Quinn’s office. Despite Adelade’s presence, which would usually be a detriment to Quinn’s productivity, he was incredibly focused as Adelade conveyed the information in the report she received. It spoke to just how important a hero’s presence meant that it broke through the prince’s tendencies.
Quinn burst through the door of his office and rushed to his desk. He shoved several stacks of parchment paper off his desk haphazardly, which Fang narrowly caught and placed on the floor so that order could be maintained once things calmed down a bit.
“Where is the hero?” demanded Quinn as he pulled a blank sheet of parchment forward and grabbed a quill.
“They have apparently been right under our noses here in the capital.”
“This is perfect! We can bring them to the palace before any of the land-holding nobles get to them,” Quinn said as he scratched down what she said.
“Well, the problem is that we don’t know where in the capital. They’ve been operating in the poor district for some time, aiding commoners with illnesses primarily.”
Quinn paused, “You mean they have healing powers?”
“The informant that sent the report hasn’t seen anything directly, but seems to believe so. Supposedly there were two incidents that stood out and left them to conclude it. The commoners are supposedly calling the hero the ‘Bloody Angel’ or the ‘Lifesaver.’ Supposedly the hero calls themselves a ‘Doctor.’”
“What the heck does ‘Doctor’ mean?” Quinn muttered as he continued making notes, “What were the incidents?”
“Well,” Adelade paused and her face paled slightly, “Is this necessary? It is rather… gruesome.”
“Yes! It can’t be worse than the injuries I’ve seen on monster hunts.”
“Okay,” Adelade took a deep breath and leaned back on the sofa as Wyen joined them in the office.
“Ah, Wyen! The hero has healing powers. Adelade was about to tell us what happened.”
Wyen nodded and took a seat on the sofa opposite Adelade.
“The first incident in question, a carpenter supposedly had a large pile of wood fall on him, breaking his leg. It was apparently quite a scene. The hero appeared and had the carpenter’s fellows hold him down. They then, forcibly, put the leg right and then, like a tailor, sewed close the wound left by the bones protruding. They washed the wound and leg both then wrapped it with cloth and used some wooden planks to straighten it. The hero gave the carpenter tonics and has continued to visit him daily to inspect the leg.”
“The hero is a physician? Why did they not simply cut off the damaged leg? Are they trying to make the man suffer?” asked Wyen, to which Fang nodded.
“Supposedly the wound has caused no pain to the man. They say it is because of the tonics.”
“Not potions?” asked Quinn, “And no healing magics?”
“Not as far as the informant heard.”
Quinn turned to Wyen.
“If this hero is a physician capable of this, they could be the push we need for the public health policies,” he said excitedly.
“Let us hear of the other incident,” replied Wyen as he nodded.
Adelade grasped at her stomach protectively as she took another deep breath. Her face paled even further, causing Wyen concern.
“What is the issue Adelade?”
“It’s… not easy to speak of this one… as a woman…”
Wyen seemed to understand some of what she was implying and waited for her to speak. Quinn and Fang glanced at each other, missing the subtlety that Wyen apparently understood. After another moment, Adelade continued.
“The second involved an expecting mother. She was in the midst of childbirth and the baby would not come. One of the neighboring women had gone to tell the father that the baby, and likely the mother, would perish. The hero was apparently walking past and heard the woman and said that they would save both. The neighboring women were the only ones there besides the hero and mother. They say that the hero cut the mother’s stomach open with a knife and pulled the baby out. Much like with the carpenter, they then sewed up the cut they had made and gave the mother several tonics. Both the mother and baby have thus far survived.”
The three men’s faces had paled much like Adelade’s had. Fang had grown so weak in the knees that he was now crouched low to the ground. Quinn’s quill had stopped moving.
“Is this hero a devil?” Quinn finally murmured, “They cut and sew people… I cannot imagine what pain those people must be enduring.”
“We need to, at the very least, speak with this hero,” said Wyen, “They already seem to have a strong bond with the commoners and may be a hero that favors independent action. We should keep a watchful eye on these two commoners and see the results of the hero’s actions. If their actions result in death, we should act quickly and… kill the hero.”
Wyen’s final words hung in the air amongst the four people in the room. Or rather five, as a young man emerged from the shadows in a corner.
“If His Highness requests it, it shall be so,” said the shadow man.
Dressed in black leathers, the young man tapped the numerous daggers sheathed at his waist. Much like Adelade, he too had both black hair and eyes, though he had his hair extremely short and close to his scalp, as though it was just growing back after he had shaved himself bald. His skin was also dark, like chocolate or damp soil. His toned frame made him appear thin, but he was practically all muscle. He also was incredibly tall for a human.
“Ah. Phillippe. Thank you for coming. How much did you hear?”
“I arrived with Master Wyen, Your Highness,” Phillippe smoothly replied with a bow.
“No deaths yet. I want you and one other to find out where the hero is living and working. What are they doing? Everything. I want to know what they are doing at every minute of every day for the next week,” Quinn commanded.
“As you wish. I shall leave immediately.”
With that, Phillippe disappeared into the shadows he had emerged from, leaving the four alone again.
“Adelade, tell the treasury I am authorizing this. Pay your informant three times whatever you already have from my coffers.”
Adelade nodded
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“We must find out everything about the hero and make our next moves before any other nobles catch on,” Quinn stated grimly.
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Two shadowy individuals leapt silently from rooftop to rooftop through the poor district. Despite the sun being out, neither seemed to catch the attention of the people on the streets below. Such was the skills instilled into operatives of the Shadows, the elite spies and assassins loyal only to the Crown of Sengar.
Phillippe Pride, the leader of Prince Quinn’s personal Shadow unit, took the lead as he and his companion moved towards the carpenter’s shop where the hero had appeared. Phillippe was originally from one of the island territories of Sengar. Since he was a boy, he had been moving through the rough terrain and forests as a hunter. His targets as a hunter were the murderous pirates that frequently spawned camps along the shores, raiding villages and ships, and leaving only destruction in their wake. He had witnessed firsthand the savagery of such pirates, barely escaping one such raid.
Alone and exhausted from having fled, Phillippe had started to resign himself to despair when he showed up. Count Ghele had been dispatched by the Crown to lead a special task force to wipe out the pirates. Phillippe and two other children the count had found, likewise survivors of pirate raids, served as guides for the land based portion of the taskforce. It was during the operation that Phillippe and the others had attained their first kills. Concerned about the impression their childhood experiences might leave, the benevolent count brought the three youths back to the capital to monitor them.
Phillippe and his two companions, Vivette and Marius, received military training far earlier than other children and quickly showed promise in the ways of spies. They received further training in magic to aid their skill sets and were adopted into the secretive Shadow unit. When the time came for Prince Quinn to select members of his personal Shadow unit, he was drawn to the promise that the young Phillippe, Vivette, and Marius showed. Unfortunately, tension instantly exploded among the boys when Quinn appointed Phillippe instead of Marius to serve as the leader. Vivette and Phillippe’s first kill as members of Quinn’s Shadow unit was their brother in arms, Marius, as he attempted to assassinate the young prince.
Phillippe glanced over at Vivette as they arrived at the carpenter’s shop. Vivette looked almost like a female version of Phillippe. Her lithe figure was perfect for infiltration. Unlike Phillippe, she kept some hair on her head though. Together they sat on an overlooking roof and observed the shopfront.
Only once over the course of several hours did the pair observe the carpenter who had been injured. It was a brief moment when he cheerfully waved farewell to a customer. They noted that the man did not appear to be in much pain, and his gait was awkward due to the large bundle that was strapped around his leg. Just as the average commoner’s workday was coming to a close was when someone unusual arrived at the shop.
The woman they observed carried a sturdy looking leather bag and had some sort of odd looking neck ornament on. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, which still had enough length to reach past her shoulders. Unusually, the bottom of her dress ended just past her knee rather than just above the ankle, drawing plenty of stares for all onlookers. She was also wearing a long, white cloth jacket over top of her dress.
Phillippe and Vivette glanced at each other and nodded in silence. Vivette nimbly jumped down to the street and hid in the shadows of an alley while Phillippe took up a position near the shop entrance, magically cloaking himself in shadows.
“... I don’t know what’s in that tonic you bring Miss, but it keeps the pain away all day!” he overheard the carpenter saying.
“That’s good. You’re keeping the area clean as well, yes?” asked the strange woman.
“I mean…,” the carpenter seemed sheepish, “As much as I can.”
“If you don’t, it will get infected and I’ll have to amputate it. Frankly you were lucky that despite getting both your tibia and fibula, they were clean breaks so they should heal together nicely with time. If it starts to ooze pus or anything, contact me immediately. You should be well for a few days, so drink one of these each day.”
The woman pulled out seven tonic vials and set them on the counter.
“Thanks Missy. You sure you want to just give me this stuff though?”
“It is the least I can do right now for you,” she replied.
Phillippe could tell, as she hesitated for just a moment, that there was something she was not telling the carpenter.
“Anyway, I have to go now. Like I said, contact me if you need to.”
“Alright Miss.”
The woman exited the shop and stopped just outside the door, turning her gaze right to Phillippe. His eyes went wide in shock as she smiled and mouthed hello to him. No one had ever seen through his shadow magic, not even Count Ghele or his daughter. Was this the power of a hero, he was left wondering.
Vivette followed the strange woman down the street, taking care not to lose her as she rounded corners. Eventually, the woman stopped in front of a small shack that looked as though it might fall over if not for being stuffed between two proper buildings. A sign hanging above the door depicted a simple, red-colored cross. It was this building and its peculiar occupant that became the observational target of Phillippe and Vivette for the next two weeks.
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Since ordering his Shadow unit to observe the hero, Quinn and Wyen were working furiously to interrupt any information about the hero from reaching other members of the nobility that were less inclined to obey the Crown. Unfortunately, such efforts would eventually prove to be pointless, but every day they had over others was one day where they held information that others did not. It seemed that the first reports of the hero had reached the Ghele house though, who had deep devotion to the Crown and thus had shared it.
Observers might ask why Adelade had shared this knowledge with Quinn rather than her father, Count Ghele, reporting it to the king. This was because it had already been decided that Quinn would be king in a year after his father, the current king, abdicated. This information was kept under tight wraps, so only the royal family, the Ghele house, Wyen, and Fang knew. Since the likelihood that the effect the hero would have on the country was far greater than the year left of the king’s reign, Count Ghele had Adelade pass on the information to the prince first.
Through the efforts of Quinn and Wyen, they had successfully obscured the location where the hero was operating and what they looked like when a week later the entire kingdom was discussing the hero. There were so many conflicting reports that many nobles started to think that perhaps there was not a hero at all.
Adelade, Wyen, Fang, and Quinn were the only people present at the report given by Phillippe after two weeks. The four contemplated everything in silence.
“She’s incredible,” Fang murmured.
“Indeed, and that is putting it mildly,” remarked Wyen, “We must convince her to work with us.”
“I suddenly feel inferior to someone I’ve never met. It makes me wonder what I’ve been doing training as hard as I have,” Adelade commented.
“I understand that sentiment, Lady Ghele,” remarked Phillippe, “When she repeatedly saw through my shadow magic, I doubted my abilities.”
Quinn was surprisingly silent through the discussion, causing the others to look at him quizzically.
“Is she attractive?”
Three foreheads found their owners' palms with an audible smack. Phillippe licked his lips nervously.
“Please don’t answer that question,” groaned Wyen.
“But it is very important!” Quinn said, slamming his fist on the desk, “Answer the question.”
“Based on Your Highness’s standards, I would say yes,” Phillippe slowly and carefully said. It was a great evasive answer, since Quinn found every woman attractive and Phillippe did not actually say whether she was in his own opinion.
“She’ll be my queen then!”
This time, even Phillippe could not keep himself composed.
“As if, Prince Pervert!”
“Quinn, I implore you to think rationally about this.”
“How many times have you said such a line to other women?”
“Your Highness, it is too soon to make such a proclamation!”
The combined onslaught of words seemed to bring Quinn back to reality for the time being.
“Okay then! We’ll revisit that topic later,” Quinn said to more sighs, “But next I’d like to hear from the two commoners that were in the first report. Wyen, please summon them to the castle. Make any accommodations necessary for them to come and be comfortable. If they can tell us more about the hero, then we can figure out what we need to do to bring her to our side.”
“When you’re not a perv, you have a good head on your shoulders,” said Adelade.
“It’s connected to a lot more than just my shoulders if you’d like to see?”
Everyone ignored the fact that the crown prince of Sengar had a black eye for the next several days.
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It had nearly been a week since Phillippe reported back to Prince Quinn when the prince, his advisor Wyen, his knight Fangor, and mage prodigy Adelade entered a small audience room. The three commoners in the room leapt up from their seats and took a knee, though one of the two men struggled with the task.
“Please, sit,” Quinn stated firmly, “Especially you. I understand you broke your leg. If it is healing well, then it would likely aggravate it to kneel. I will give you a special exemption for the time being.”
The carpenter bowed his head, “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“I am sure you three have many questions about why I asked you to come to the palace. Let me assure you that you are not going to be punished over what I would like to ask you. I would like to ask about the woman who treated your leg and saved your child.”
The carpenter, the woman, and her husband exchanged glances.
“She is a miracle of the Goddess!” the husband declared, “She saved not only my wife here but our daughter too!”
The woman, who was holding said daughter, continued, “I admit I was nervous when she explained what she was going to do, but I was in so much pain anyway at the time that I barely felt anything. When she gave me the tonics afterwards, the pain was discomforting, but tolerable. And she came back repeatedly to ensure that both our daughter and myself were doing well!”
“The same with me,” added the carpenter, “She apologized for not having something to lessen the pain at the time, so it hurt even worse when she fixed me up. But afterwards she came back several times to make sure things were good. She said yesterday that in a week I should be able to walk normally again!”
Quinn glanced over at Wyen, who looked back with the same determination. If these people could be healed by the hero, then she was even more valuable than everything they had compiled suggested.
“What was her name?” asked Adelade, “You never mentioned her name.”
“Uh,” the carpenter looked at the woman and her husband, but they looked just as stumped, “I don’t honestly know. I was in pain when I first met her. I just knew she was the miss who fixed me up that day. And since she’s a young one I just called her Miss or Missy. She didn’t seem to mind, but I don’t think that was her name.”
“We never asked either…,” the woman looked troubled by this admission.
“I see. What did she look like?” pressed Quinn. He had a general description from Phillippe and Vivette, but wanted to hear if these commoner’s descriptions matched.
“Well, like I said, she’s a young one. Pardon my saying so if it’s rude, but perhaps about the Lady’s age?” said the carpenter, “Had blonde hair and green eyes. Outfit was a little strange, but she’s got some nice legs. Oh, and she would put on these things over her eyes.” He made a motion that a modern person would recognize as putting on glasses.
“She spoke in a manner quite similar to yourself, Your Highness,” added the woman, “At first I thought she must be a noble because she was so smart and was very polite, but she insisted she wasn’t.”
“And did she charge you for the treatments and tonics? Surely she must have?” asked Wyen.
“No. She told me that our daughter’s safety was enough payment for her.”
“She just said to me it was the least she could do.”
“I am sure you realize this by now, but having heard of this woman and the treatments she has performed, I would like to meet with her. I thank you for answering our questions today. Please, take this letter to the woman and give it to her. It is a request for her to come to the castle in three days,” said Quinn.
Wyen passed the letter in question to the woman, who gingerly took it.
“What are you going to do to her?” asked the husband, his caution raised from his tone.
“Much like I have done with you here today, I simply wish to ask her some questions,” replied Quinn.
“Oh…”
“That is all, I swear on my honor as the Crown Prince of Sengar,” Quinn placed his clenched right fist across his chest on top of his heart, “With that, I wish to thank you for coming. We shall take our leave.”
Quinn and his company stood and left the room. The woman and her husband took a knee as they stood and the carpenter bowed his head from his seat. On their way to his office, Quinn spoke.
“Phillippe, make sure the letter is delivered to the hero’s home. Do not harm those people if they fail to do so.”
Phillippe emerged from the shadows, affirmed his mission, and disappeared just as quickly. After arriving at the office and shutting the door, Quinn said what everyone there was thinking:
“Their testimony is enough to convince me. We need this hero on our side. She will change everything.”
That evening, Phillippe returned and informed Quinn that the letter was delivered that afternoon.
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Three days later Phillippe burst into the office early in the morning. Quinn, Wyen, and Fang had only just arrived themselves.
“The hero left town in the night!”