In a realm beyond realms, where time folded like origami and space stretched thin like whispered dreams, the All Father existed in quiet solitude.
Not amidst swirling stars or blazing cosmic fires, but in a stark, infinite white void, an empty canvas as boundless as thought itself.
There, in this serene emptiness, he sat on a simple wooden chair, an odd relic against the vast nothingness, lost in a strange, small pleasure: reading a comic book.
The pages flickered with color and chaos, far removed from his eternal existence of abstract concepts and infinite possibility.
He reached the climax of the story, eyes fixed on the final panels, the heroic showdown, the clash of wills, the promise of victory and sacrifice.
But then...
All Father gets abruptly blinded by a magical light bursting from the floor.
Moments later, the light fades, and All Father finds himself inside a grand hall decorated with medieval grandeur. The hall is massive and guarded by a knight in white armor stood motionless at the threshold, posture unyielding.
The sound of birds chirping outside and the scent of flowers filled the hall.
("This place hums with a familiar strangeness-- as if a forgotten dream has stitched itself into reality's fabric once more.")
Ahead, a high priestess in robes of white and gold waited before a throne, beside her the prime minister, an old man looking at the summoned human with profound excitement.
Upon it sat a king and queen, their children flanking them-- eyes sharp with the measure of one who weighs the worth of strangers, all watching with regal curiosity.
The great hall hummed with anticipation as the kingdom's most revered mage-- a wizened figure robed in fabric embroidered with shimmering runes stepped forward to examine the summoned human.
Elya stepped forward, their white-and-gold robes catching the glow of the chandeliers. With a warm smile that seemed to light up their whole face, they lifted the slender magic wand and gave it a small, welcoming flourish.
"Welcome to Hellero, dear heroes!" Her voice rang through the hall, bright and clear, carrying a sincerity that softened the formal words. "My name is Elya. Each of you has been summoned here to help us stand against the evil Demon Lord who has brought havoc and chaos to our kingdom."
("A priest robed in white and gold, a beacon amidst mortal pomp. Behind him, the king, queen, and their children-- curiosity glowing like a silent flame in their eyes.")
Elya grip on the wand tightened slightly, not out of fear, but as if anchoring themselves in purpose.
The minister adjusted the heavy gold chain around his neck, letting the polished emblem catch the light. His thin lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer as he swept his gaze over the summoned group.
"Just as dear Elya has so… eloquently put it," he began, his voice dripping with false warmth, "you have been summoned by royal decree-- to aid our kingdom in the battle against the Demon Lord."
"Allow me to assess all of your abilities…" Elya announced, her voice still warm but tinged with ceremonial gravity.
She turned first to a young man, barely into his twenties. The priest's staff lifted, its crystal tip blooming with golden light that spilled across the marble floor. A wave of holy energy pulsed outward, carrying the faint scent of lilies.
"How wonderful!" Elya beamed, eyes bright. "A holy sword wielder-- such a rare and great blessing." The words carried genuine delight, like a teacher discovering a prodigy.
The Minister smirked, King and the Queen were amused, and the children were excited
Next came the two teenage girls. As Elya's wand passed before them, the air snapped with electricity, fine arcs of blue dancing between the crystal and the girls' hands. The crackle echoed faintly in the vaulted chamber.
"Amazing!" Elya's voice rose with excitement. "You both have one of the greatest blessings! How fortunate you are." Their smile widened, cheeks dimpling, and the girls exchanged a glance of disbelief and pride.
The girls looked at each other, both shocked and proud.
Elya then glances upon All Father, "I will see your blessing now," she smiles, her presence feels innocent
All Father, didn't say a word-- nod softly
Elya raised the staff, the crystal tip glimmering gold. The light swept across All Father's form and sputtered--
The glow dimmed, pulsing once like a dying heartbeat before fading to nothing.
Elya's smile faltered. They tried again, slower this time, tracing the air as if coaxing something shy from the shadows.
Still nothing. Not a flicker.
A murmur rippled through the hall from the summoned hero and the royal family
"That's… strange," Elya whispered, more to themself than anyone. The word strange hung in the air, soft but heavy.
They tried a third time, jaw set, knuckles white around the staff. The crystal gave a weak, reluctant gleam-- then died.
Elya lowered the staff, eyes narrowing on All Father. "There is no blessing here."
Not doubt. Not disbelief. Certainty.
The minister stepped forward, voice sharp as glass.
"What do you mean no blessing? Every summoned hero registers something."
"It's not the staff," Elya said, their tone clipped now. "And it's not an error. He is… empty."
("My presence here is but a shadow, a whisper-- or something beyond my grasp. Still, I linger content, a silent witness to the unfolding.")
Elya's staff made another slow sweep, the crystal at its tip dulling to nothing. No light. No hum. No magic at all.
She frowned, lips parting as if the next words physically resisted leaving.
"There… is nothing."
The minister's gaze flicked from Elya to All Father, scanning him up and down as though sheer scrutiny could force a reading.
"Nothing?" His tone dripped with irritation now. "You're telling me the great summoning brought us… this? Someone without blessing?"
The minister scoffed, a short, bitter sound.
"Worthless in magic and insolent in tongue-- splendid." He turned slightly, addressing the king without taking his eyes off All Father. "Your Majesty, this anomaly warrants immediate re-evaluation. We cannot afford passengers in this war."
The other summoned hero mummurs and began to wondering about the Minister and All Father magic absence
"We got the blessing, but he didn't?"
"But... he is summoned just like us."
"Maybe he hid something?"
("A blessing precedes the summoning of the hero. But from whom does this spark ignite? The question grows roots within me-- this world's weave grows ever more intricate.")
The minister's mouth tightened, ready to press his point again, but the king raised one hand.
"That will be enough."
Silence fell instantly.
The king studied All Father for a moment
"You may leave the castle," he said at last, his tone calm and deliberate. "Take this for your journey."
He gestured to a servant, who stepped forward with a small velvet pouch. The soft clink of coins carried faintly through the quiet hall as it was placed into All Father's hands.
The queen's gaze lingered on him, steady and unreadable. The prince scoffed under his breath, clearly unimpressed. The princess lowered her eyes, but not before stealing one last curious glance.
The minister shifted on his feet, clearly irritated by the decision but unwilling to challenge the king's word in front of the court.
All Father gave no bow, no thanks-- only a single, slow nod. Then he turned and walked away, the sound of his steps echoing in the vast chamber until the great doors closed behind him.
The great doors shut behind All Father with a deep, final thud, and the weight of silence lingered.
The summoned heroes exchanged uneasy glances.
The young man with the holy aura from before frowned, his fingers nervously tapping against his arm. "I feel bad about him..." His voice barely hid the flicker of doubt behind his otherwise confident facade.
One of the girls shrugged, forcing a laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I guess he's just a nobody who got lucky? Maybe he just accidentally got summoned."
The other girl didn't take her eyes off the heavy doors. Her fingers twitched at her side, almost like she wanted to reach out but held back. "Or unlucky…" she murmured.
The prince leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand with a smirk. "Tch-- really waste of time, whatever, he's not worth talking about anyway."
The princess shifted in her seat, fingers curling around her skirt. She didn't speak, but her eyes lingered on the empty doorway as if trying to place a feeling she couldn't name.
The minister stepped closer to the king, his voice low but sharp. "Your Majesty, just forget about that person. He has nothing with him, we should prepare the hero instead"
"If you said so--" The king's reply was calm, almost dismissive. "Then he will be nothing beyond these walls."
A servant cleared his throat softly. "Shall I remove his name from the register, sire?"
"Hmph, don't waste our time with the failure," the minister muttered under his breath. "Just prepare the training for the summoned hero, also we have no time for it."
Outside of the castle, All Father walks pass the entrance, the big door on his back and the field of flowers on each side
("Behind these thick doors, their confusion, anger, and wonder pulse like a living heartbeat. It breathes life into the tale-- and for that, I hold no bitterness.")
All Father then see the sky, looking at the bright sun with a beautiful city in the background
("This world cloaks its secrets beneath silent shadows… and I find myself drawn to the whispers waiting to be uncovered.")
He left the castle behind, the weight of its judgment fading with each step… yet in the hush between heartbeats, something unseen was already watching. A story-- strange and unexpected. Had begun, though he did not yet know its name.