The throne room stretched vast and radiant, a monument of stone and wealth. Marble floors gleamed beneath the glow of chandeliers suspended high above, their flames caught in crystals that scattered light like stars.
Red and gold banners cascaded from towering pillars, their crests heavy with histories I did not know. Courtiers in silks and jewels lined the chamber, their gazes fixed on me with a mixture of awe and fear. Some knelt, others whispered, but all eyes lingered.
At the heart of it sat the king. He was a massive man, broad of frame and draped in velvet and gold, but his age clung to him in the golden-brown beard streaked with gray. His eyes were sharp still, carrying the weight of command, though the throne itself seemed to sag under his presence.
Beside him, the queen glittered like a jewel made flesh. Her hair was golden, her beauty polished and perfect, a woman younger than her husband yet wrapped in the regality of one who had always belonged to the throne.
To her side sat the princess. A teenager, still touched with youth but already bearing her mother's beauty, she watched with a poise beyond her years, hands folded neatly in her lap.
The courtiers' eyes followed her too, reverent, as if her presence alone were a promise of the kingdom's future.
And standing not far from them was the sage. A man perhaps in his forties, his long robe heavy with sigils and age-old script.
Thin spectacles perched upon his nose, and behind the polished surface of his gaze lingered something sharp, calculating. Yet he smiled faintly, masking it with the dignity of his station.
Together they looked every bit the rulers from a storybook an image crafted for devotion.
The chamber quieted.
The silence lingered, heavy and expectant. Then a voice broke it.
The sage, robed in deep blue and silver, stepped forward. His glasses caught the light, his expression a mask of dignity. He bowed low, and when he rose, his voice rang clear for all to hear.
"Behold, Hero," he said, spreading a hand toward the dais, "the sovereign heart of our kingdom. His Majesty, King Belarion Von Euranis the Second, crowned guardian of our people."
The king shifted upon his throne, his golden-brown beard gleaming like burnished metal, his age carved into his face yet softened by the weight of majesty.
"Beside him," the sage continued, "Her Majesty, Queen Astorio Von Euranis, jewel of the realm, whose beauty and wisdom guide us."
The queen tilted her chin ever so slightly, jewels upon her neck and wrists glittering with the light of countless candles. Her eyes, bright and sharp, measured me as though I were some rare ornament.
"And here," the sage's hand moved again, "the light of youth and grace, Princess Elizabeth Von Euranis, whose presence inspires devotion in the hearts of her people."
The girl shifted in her seat, no older than her late teens, her fair features polished into perfection. She smiled faintly, a practiced gesture, porcelain made flesh.
The sage lowered his hand and stepped back, his gaze flicking briefly toward me as if to say, remember this sight, Hero.
Only then did the king stir, rising from his throne with the weight of a world pressing upon his voice.
The king rose, the weight of his crown catching the light. His voice carried, heavy and sure, filling the hall.
"Hero," he said, his words echoing against marble and stone, "we owe you more than words can convey. You have been brought here at a time when humanity faces great peril. The war against the demi-humans rages across our lands. Countless lives have been lost. Kingdoms tremble, and uncertainty grips our people. And yet, in your arrival, there is hope."
He spread his arms, as if to embrace the hall itself.
"Even now, our firstborn, Crown Prince Albrecht, fights at the front. Side by side with the Rianhaer Empire's finest, he holds the line against the horde. His courage inspires the soldiers, his blade has carved victories from despair. But a single prince, cannot turn the tide alone. That is why the legends have answered us. That is why you are here, Hero. To lead where even blood of the crown cannot, to accomplish what no mortal man could. To be the force that secures the future of our kingdom, and of all humanity."
Applause thundered, rolling through the chamber like a storm.
I stood still, their cheers washing over me, saying nothing.
The chamber quieted once more as the king's voice deepened, weighted with reverence.
"Since the dawn of our histories, tales have spoken of heroes from beyond the skies. Not just mere warriors, but chosen souls summoned when humanity stands on the brink. These heroes did not simply fight. They led. They bore strength shaped not by steel alone, but by their very will. Whatever fire burned within them, the world itself answered. Legends say that a hero's heart determines his gift: a sword that cleaves through armies, a shield that no force may break, or power so great it bends the tides of fate."
His gaze fixed on me, as though he could see that fire within my chest.
"You, too, are such a hero. The light did not bring you here by chance. In you lies the power to decide the path of mankind. You are not just a man. You are the embodiment of hope itself."
Again the hall erupted in cheers, courtiers raising their voices in unison, crying out titles I did not yet know.
I remained silent, their worship pouring over me like rain.
As the cheers faded, the sage stepped forward from beside the throne. His robe was heavy with sigils, his staff tipped with a dim glow that still smelled faintly of the summoning.
"Forgive us, Hero," the sage said, bowing low. "The rite was… abrupt. You were torn from your world without choice, and for that I must offer my deepest apology. The truth is harsh you cannot return. The threads that bind you here cannot be unmade. But know this: in exchange, the path before you holds no limits. Whatever you desire wealth, power, glory shall be placed within your grasp. All that we ask… is that you lead us."
The man's voice quavered with reverence, yet his eyes gleamed with quiet expectation, as though he already believed the bargain was struck.
The hall waited, every eye fixed on me. They wanted a smile, a vow, a single word to seal their hope.
I gave them nothing.
Something stirred in me as I stood beneath their gaze.
A warmth, slow at first, then rising like fire caught in my veins. My skin prickled, my chest tightened, and I felt a power I had never known coiling deep within. It was not gentle. It pressed against me, heavy and unrelenting, until even my breath felt different sharper, louder, more alive than it had ever been.
This world had done something to me. Changed me. The summoning… it had not just dragged me here. It had broken something, then filled the fracture with light and weight, with fire and shadow.
I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the surge climb higher, reshaping me from within.
Applause, whispers, prayers it all blurred together, fading into a distant hum. I kept my silence, but within that silence, I felt something awaken.
King Belarion spoke as his voice rolled through the chamber, commanding yet measured.
"Hero," he began, "As a symbol of our gratitude, and to aid you in your sacred task, I want to offer you your first gift from the kingdom and from us the royal family."
A servant stepped forward, bowing low, and retrieved a small, ornately carved box. The king's fingers brushed the lid as he continued.
"Now," the king said, voice rising with ceremonial pride, "bring forth the artifacts."
Two armored servants moved forward with deliberate grace, carrying the Sword of Light and the Armor of Brilliance on their ornate stands. The sunlight streamed through the high window panes, striking the sword's blade first. It fractured the light into countless shards that danced across the marble floor. The brilliance was almost blinding, the blade glimmering with an otherworldly luster. Ancient runes along the hilt pulsed faintly, as if acknowledging my presence.
The armor followed, every curve and plate catching the sunlight, reflecting gold and white in sharp, dazzling flashes. It was as if the very light of the sun had been captured and forged into steel.
I did not move. I did not flinch. I simply observed, noting how the artifacts commanded attention not through words or gestures, but through the raw presence of power.
The sage's eyes flickered with recognition, the knights stiffened. They had seen heroes of their own world don such legendary artifacts but the one in front of them was of mythical grade and this...this radiance, this responsiveness, it was unlike anything they had encountered.
I reached for the Sword of Light. The hilt felt warm under my fingers, resonating with the surge of power already starting to grow within me. The sword felt alive, a weird and eerie feeling. Almost like it was beckoning me to hold it and swing the blade.
King Belarion's gaze swept the hall, settling on me. His massive frame shifted on the throne as he spoke, voice echoing with authority.
"Hero," he said, "before we proceed, tell us your name. The kingdom must know the one who bears its hope."
I stepped forward, as i took the Sword of Light in my hand.. I straightened, letting my presence fill the chamber, and spoke with measured calm, each syllable precise and deliberate.
"Rafiel Cruz Dantas" I said.
The effect was instantaneous. Whispers rippled through the court, eyes widening, breaths held. The voice carried authority and elegance, almost hypnotic, as if the name itself carried weight beyond its sound. Even the king paused, momentarily caught off guard by the composure and poise of the one he had summoned.
The queen's gaze sharpened, her lips curving into a thin, calculating smile. Her eyes lingered on me with a gleam that was part admiration, part something darker, more personal. Princess Elizabeth's painted innocence faltered as she stared, her expression shifting into one of barely concealed glee, eyes glinting with a strange fascination, almost perverted in its intensity.
King Belarion nodded, recovering his composure and voice. "From this day forth, you shall bear the title of Hero of Light, Savior of Euranis. Let it be known that the kingdom places its trust in you, and that your deeds will guide humanity through these perilous times."
Applause rolled across the marble floors, but I remained still, detached yet observing, feeling the warmth inside me rise,the Sword of Light thrumming in response to my will. Their adoration, their hopes it all brushed against me like a current I could control, yet never truly join.
I reached for the Armor of Brilliance, running my hands over its polished white surface embedded with symbols and patterns that added to its majestic nature. The metal was cool at first, then almost warm, as if it were alive, waiting.
I moved deliberately, sliding each piece into place, feeling it conform to my form as though it had been made for me alone. With every plate fastened, a subtle surge of power rose within me, warm and searing, curling through my muscles and reflexes.
My body felt sharper, more attuned. Every breath, every heartbeat resonated with an unfamiliar energy, and yet I remained calm, indifferent to the sensation, observing it as one might a curious phenomenon.
The court watched, utterly enthralled, their applause and whispers fading into a tense silence. And then, at last, the princess spoke.
"Hero…" Her voice was soft, yet it carried through the hall, catching everyone off guard. She stepped forward slightly, eyes fixed on me, cheeks flushed, a small, almost mischievous smile playing at her lips. "You're… mesmerizing."
Her gaze lingered, unnervingly intent. There was a subtle heat in it, a fascination that went beyond admiration, bordering on something perverse, something secretive. I noted it without thought, recording it as one would any detail of a room or a crowd, yet the focus in her eyes suggested a darkness beneath her painted innocence.
The queen's lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, her eyes tracing the interaction with quiet interest. Even the king cleared his throat, trying to regain attention, but the tension lingered, the princess' words hanging in the air like a fine thread of silk, delicate yet sharp.
I said nothing, of course. I simply adjusted the last plate of the armor, feeling it lock into place with a faint click. Its brilliance caught the sunlight pouring through the windows, reflecting across the marble floors and walls, almost blinding in its radiance. The effect was more than visual it was commanding, mesmerizing, and utterly complete.
And as the court's awe washed over me, I felt the first flicker of something new within myself. A power, a presence, rising, shaping, waiting. I did not flinch, I did not falter. I simply stood, prepared, and let them see what they wished to see: a hero, perfect and radiant.
The murmurs of the courtiers swelled into a roar of approval. "The Hero has come! The Hero of Light who will save Euranis!" Applause thundered against the marble, a tide of devotion and expectation. The king's face split into a proud, wide smile, and he lifted his hand, basking in the adulation.
Yet, for a brief moment, his gaze shifted. His eyes met those of the sage and the holy knight, a subtle, almost imperceptible signal passing between them. Their movements stiffened, a tension rippling beneath the surface of ceremony.
The king's then said, steady and commanding. "And now, the second gift. Bring it forward."
A servant stepped forward, carrying a small grail, with a liquid that shimmered faintly like molten gold. The court leaned forward as the king continued, "This potion, forged by the greatest alchemists of our age, grants immeasurable strength to the one who drinks it. Its effects are said to rival even the power of legend itself."
The grail was placed on a pedestal before me, catching the light. Its brilliance rivaled that of the Sword and Armor, drawing every eye in the hall
Princess Elizabeth stepped forward, her posture deliberate, her expression now sharpened into something darker, more intense. Her cheeks were flushed, and her gaze lingered far too long as she addressed me directly, voice low yet clear.
"Hero," she said, her tone almost whispering over the clamor of the crowd, "allow me to personally offer you this gift."
Her hand extended toward the cup, and her smile twisted ever so slightly not innocent, not playful, but something possessive, perverse, a subtle promise of what she desired. The warmth in her gaze was unsettling, her attention fixed entirely on me in a way that made the court oblivious to the undercurrent of intent.
As I stared at the liquid in the divine looking grail covered in gold and platinum in the princess hands, a voice brushed against the edges of my thoughts. Soft, almost imperceptible, yet cutting through the noise of the court like a blade.
'They are all lying',
I did not startle. I did not speak. I merely allowed a faint curl of acknowledgment in my mind.
'I know.'
Without hesitation, I reached for the potion. Princess Elizabeth's hand lingered a moment too long before withdrawing, as if she were both offering and testing me.
The liquid shimmered in the light, golden and almost hypnotic, yet I drank it steadily, feeling its warmth coil through my body. Nothing burned, nothing startled me. The power it promised flowed into me, subtle but tangible, and I did not flinch.
The court erupted in cheers once more, believing they had witnessed a proper display of heroism. King Belarion's eyes glimmered with satisfaction, and he leaned forward slightly, expecting words of gratitude.
Instead, I spoke. My voice calm, deliberate, carrying a weight that made the chamber still.
"Will there be another gift?"
The question rippled through the court like a ripple across glass. A moment of silence, and then the king, recovering quickly, met my gaze earnestly.
"There will be," he said, voice firm and sincere. "The third gift shall be whatever you desire, Hero. Anything you wish, it will be yours."
I nodded once, slowly, almost imperceptibly, letting the gesture carry more weight than words could. Even the princess' flushed expression faltered for a fraction of a second, curiosity and expectation battling in her gaze.
I said nothing further. I simply allowed the surge of strength and the warmth of power to settle within me, observing the court, noting their faces, their hopes, their adoration. They celebrated their hero
King Belarion's eyes were fixed on me, expectant and proud.
"Hero, now that all gifts have been offered… what is it that you desire?"
I held the Sword of Light in my hand, letting the light glint off its blade, and asked, my voice calm and deliberate, i asked them a question to ponder instead:
"What is the measure of life?"
A ripple of confusion passed through the king's expression.
"What… what do you mean, Hero?" he asked, frowning slightly.
I allowed my gaze to drift slowly across the chamber, letting my voice carry clearly, addressing both the king and the court, as if describing a scene for someone who could not see it.
"The throne room stretches vast and radiant," I said. "Marble floors gleam beneath the light from the chandeliers, scattering across banners of red and gold. The air is filled with the soft rustle of silk and the faint metallic gleam of armor."
I turned my eyes to the assembled figures. "The king sits tall upon his throne, massive in presence, every movement deliberate. The queen's layers of ornaments catch the light and shimmer with each gesture. The princess stands close by, watching, her gaze alert and full of curiosity. The sage, glasses perched, observes quietly, and the knights remain upright, poised, attentive. Every courtier holds themselves with care, faces attentive, gestures composed, eyes fixed forward, waiting."
My voice softened, carrying a neutral, almost serene weight. "All of it together light and color, fabric and stone, movement and stillness forms a scene of brilliance, of ceremony. The banners, the marble, the jewels, the echoes of footsteps they fill the space, and I see it all, clearly, with every detail present, as if the room itself were alive. Magnificent, isn't it?"
I stepped forward slowly, my gaze fixed on the king. My voice, calm and deliberate, carried clearly across the hall.
"So i ask you what is the measure of life, king?" I asked, each word deliberate as I drew closer. The knights shifted subtly, their attention caught by my approach. The one nearest the king, clearly a man of high position and strength, watched me warily, hand near his weapon.
"Careful how you address our sire, Hero!" he said annoyingly
I stopped a few steps from the throne, letting my eyes meet the king's, smiling faintly an angelic smile that betrayed nothing of the thoughts swirling behind it.
The king swallowed, unsure how to respond. "I… I do not know how that is related to your third gift," he said finally.
I tilted my head, letting the smile linger. "I'll ask you this then, do you know who I am?"
"You are… Rafiel, the Hero of Light," the king replied, voice steady, yet with an edge of reverence.
I let a slow breath escape. "And does he know his life? Does he know where he comes from? Does he know anything about his Hero"
Silence fell over the throne room. The king did not answer.
The queen, poised and glittering beneath her layers of ornaments, leaned forward slightly, a sly smile curling her lips.
"That is not important anymore," she said softly, her voice smooth as silk. "His life is now with Euranis. Bearer of the Sword of light and the Sword of radiance. He will be well cared for."
I said nothing. My gaze fell to my Sword of Light, resting lightly in my hand, letting the weight of it ground me.
In the background, I noticed Princess Elizabeth, her impatience evident as she bit her nails, her composure slipping ever so slightly.
Turning my eyes toward the audience of courtiers, I observed them all faces bright with feigned loyalty, yet cold and greedy beneath the masks. And even then, subtle movements in the periphery drew my attention, figures slipping through the edges of the hall with deliberate precision.
I spoke again, my voice steady, almost reverent: "Everything here the banners, the chandeliers, the marble, the people… even the royal family is grand. Almost blinding in its brilliance."
The king's chest rose with pride at my words, oblivious to the scrutiny I poured over every detail.
And then I heard it the whisper again, soft yet certain, threading through my mind:
They all are lying, Rafiel. This is all a lie.
I inclined my head slightly, almost imperceptibly. I know, I thought, silent but deliberate, letting the hall remain bathed in its brilliance and ceremony, unaware of the truth that had settled like a shadow around me.
I let my gaze sweep over the court one last time, my voice calm, deliberate, and commanding.
"They know nothing of me, yet they declare me their hero. They trust me so easily. They expect me to believe everything they tell me, to accept their tales as truth."
A sharp voice cut through the chamber, impatient and cracking under the weight of her own desires. Princess Elizabeth shouted, "What does the Hero want as his third gift?"
Behind me, the figures in the corners of my eyes edged closer, deliberate, precise. I felt their movements without looking, the rhythm of their approach hidden beneath the ceremony.
Flashes of my old life cut through my mind the bitterness, the hunger, the fleeting warmth, the steel I had carried. When I opened them again, I caught Elizabeth staring at me, her expression perverse, a hunger barely concealed behind her blushing face.
I turned my attention back to the throne. "I know what I want."
The words sent a shiver of silence through the chamber. The knights shifted subtly, courtiers held their breath, and even the queen hid her expression behind her fan.
The king rose slightly from his throne, his eyes locked on mine. His voice rang out, steady and deliberate.
"Then know this, Hero of Light… Once you declare your desire, you will not ask for anything further. After today, it will not matter what you want. From then on, it will only matter what we want of you."
His words echoed across the marble, settling like lead in the air. Then the king's face twisted into a smile , and from deep in his chest came a laugh. Low at first, then rising, rolling across the throne room, cruel and triumphant.
The court responded with applause stiff, hollow, measured. No cheers, no celebration. Only the sound of hands striking together, cold and obedient, under the shadow of their king's laughter.
The laughter of the king faded, leaving the throne room heavy in silence.
I let my gaze wander upward, to the vaulted ceiling above. Painted across it was a mural of an ancient king, robed in finery, a staff in hand, his painted eyes gazing downward. There was no pride in them, no triumph. Only sorrow, as though even across centuries he pitied those who knelt before him.
For a heartbeat, the image blurred.
I was standing again in the rain, a narrow urban alley pressed in by tin houses, the air sharp with rust and smoke. Cold water streamed down my face, mixing with the blood that clung to my skin, falling as tears I could not shed. The night sky above me was hidden behind clouds and steel wires.
A small voice broke through the storm. "It's going to be alright, big brother."
And then it was gone.
The throne room returned, brilliant and blinding. My eyes fell back upon the king.
I felt it rising within me again the warmth, the surge, the strange awakening the same sensation when i was envelope in the light before i got to this place. My vision sharpened, colors deepening, reality itself folding into clarity. The sage's glasses glinted as he stiffened, his composure cracking for the first time then he saw something that he could not believe as he stared at my face and it immediately terrified him.
The knight captain, stalwart and unflinching before, shifted subtly into a guarded stance. They alone saw what others did not.
For in that moment, my eyes burned. My irises which were dark brown at first glowed a crimson red, flecked with glimmers of gold, an eerie light that cut through the chamber.
The princess gasped. Her hand clutched her chest as though struck by rapture. Her lips parted, and she whispered, trembling with fervor, "Father… I want him. I want him." Her voice dripped with desire, a child claiming a prize she believed already hers.
But I spoke before her hunger could settle in the air. My voice, low yet carrying, filled every corner of the hall.
"I knew a man once," I began, "who wished to protect everything he adored. He gave himself to it completely. And in the end, he failed. But in his failure, I learned something, 'the measure of life.'"
I stepped forward, every movement echoing on the marble. The Sword of Light glimmered in my hand, casting its brilliance across the floor, as if amplifying my words.
"Life," I said, "is fragile. It bends, it breaks. It is steeped in suffering. It shifts with the smallest change, and it can be taken away in an instant. And when the weak hold it, the strong take it from them and call it their own. That is the truth."
My gaze hardened as it fixed on the throne.
"Just like the royal family."
The court rippled with gasps, horrified whispers clawing for breath. The king's face stiffened. The queen's fan trembled. The sage's eyes burned behind his glasses.
I turned to the princess. Her expression had not broken. If anything, she seemed even more enthralled, her cheeks flushed, her gaze devouring me.
"I see everything," I told her. My voice did not rise, but the weight of it crushed the air. "I see the grandeur of this court. The splendor of this palace. The majesty of the royal family."
The golden light from the windows poured across my armor and blade, making me shine all the brighter as my words cut deeper.
"And they are all… a disappointing lie."
The hall froze.
The king's face darkened, his eyes narrowing to slits. The veins along his temple pulsed as his voice thundered across the hall."So what!"
The sudden roar shattered the chamber's silence.
His thick hand shot upward in a sharp signal.
From the corners of the room, figures emerged black-robed shapes that had been only whispers in the edge of my sight. Their faces remained hidden beneath their hoods, but the steel in their hands gleamed, catching the light of the chandeliers.
The king's knights stepped forward in unison, their armor clattering like the grinding of iron jaws. In a single motion, they drew their blades and formed a ring around me, their points flashing cold and bright.
A rustle swept through the audience. Silks and jewels shifted aside as men and women nobles fat with coin, merchants perfumed with power unsheathed daggers and short swords, their smiles twisting into something feral. Greed and hunger lit their eyes like a sickness.
They were never spectators. They were actors in a play long rehearsed.
The king's grin split his beard, cruel and triumphant."You think to protest?" His voice rolled through the chamber like a hammer striking stone. "It is already too late."
The circle of knights tightened, every gleam of metal reflecting the golden light that still danced across my sword and armor.
King Belarion's laughter curdled into a sneer. He leaned forward heavy hands gripping the gilded arms as his voice cracked like a whip."You think those pretty words make you untouchable?"
His glare burned through me, a predator's stare."You know nothing of magic. You don't even understand what gift, if any, the summoning gave you. You are only a man with a silver tongue nothing more."
He spat the next words like venom."The measure of your life belongs to us the royal house of Euranis from the moment you stepped into this hall. From the moment you drew breath in our world, you were ours."
The king's grin widened, cruel and gleaming."That sword, that armor!? mere props for the spectacle. Did you think I would hand a stranger the true treasures of my bloodline? How foolish."
Gasps rippled through the court. The words struck like a thrown dagger.
Princess Elizabeth stiffened, her eyes widening in disbelief. For an instant the practiced poise slipped, replaced by a flicker of panic like a child realizing a dangerous game had gone too far.
Her gaze darted between her father and the shining blade in my hand, as though she herself had crossed some unspoken line.
The hall felt suddenly closer, the air thick with the sound of drawn steel and quickened breath.
The sage's face blanched. His eyes locked on mine, the glint of his spectacles catching the glow of my blade."Your Majesty get away from him!" he barked, voice cracking with sudden fear. "The Abyss… it has touched this hero. Corruption is upon him!"
A shiver of unease swept the chamber. For a heartbeat, the king's proud façade faltered; his mouth opened in startled disbelief. Then he straightened, forcing a bark of laughter that rang hollow against the marble."Corruption? Nonsense. The potion will take hold. Soon enough he will bend to my will, as planned."
Princess Elizabeth shot forward in her seat, irritation flashing across her perfect features. "Has it worked yet?" she snapped, her voice sharp with impatience. "I want him now. All to myself. My prize."
"Elizabeth," Queen Astorio said with gentle reproach, though a sly smile curved her lips. "Restrain yourself. A queen does not beg."
Yet her eyes lingered on me, gleaming with a quiet hunger that mirrored her daughter's, the corners of her mouth lifting in a knowing smirk.
I smiled.
Not a grin, not mockery, just a quiet, certain smile that carried a single message: your potion did nothing.
The king stiffened. For a heartbeat he simply stared, lips trembling with fury. Then he slammed a heavy fist on the arm of his throne."Knights! Seize him!"
Steel rang as swords lifted but no one stepped forward. Their eyes darted toward one another, wary. Every tale they had ever heard whispered the same truth: a summoned hero was a walking calamity, a force that could lay waste to armies.
Belarion's face darkened, pride collapsing into rage. "I said seize him!" His voice cracked like a whip, echoing through the high chamber.
From the far side of the hall, a black-robed figure finally moved. Silent and deliberate, he approached until the glow of my armor lit the shadow of his hood. Raising one thin hand, he began a chant in a tongue I did not know.
Symbols of light spiraled from his palm, burning against the air. His voice sharpened to a command."Bind him!"
Chains of shimmering light erupted from the floor and walls, snaking toward me in a sudden rush, their links rattling with an otherworldly clang as they coiled to ensnare my limbs.
Princess Elizabeth's eyes shone with delight. She leaned forward, lips curling into a gleeful grin as she watched the links tighten around me.
King Belarion spread his arms, pride swelling in his chest. "You see? The potion has granted him strength yet with it comes the binding curse. He who drinks obeys the giver. My daughter need only speak, and the hero will kneel. The Hero of Light belongs to Euranis!"
The princess laughed, a bright, hungry sound. Courtiers followed with uneasy chuckles, a wave of amusement rolling across the hall.
I remained silent.
Out of the corner of my eye, the sage shifted. His lips moved in a low murmur, weaving a spell under his breath. I heard every syllable, sharp as a bell.
And I saw everything.
The room warped before my eyes. Faces stretched and wavered, jewels running like molten wax, silks crawling like skin. Their smiles thinned to razors, eyes burning red with a hunger they could no longer hide.
To me they were no courtiers at all, but demons in borrowed flesh, waiting, twitching, starving. And the royal family stood worst among them. I saw their true selves even more hideous than their shells. Their souls were inhumane and they felt no shame or guilt.
Only I saw it. Only I knew the truth behind their masks.
A feast of demons.
I drew a slow breath. Every world is the same, I thought. Different faces, same hunger.
But who could I blame?
The truth coiled cold and certain in my chest: I am the epitome all of them.
Memory struck like lightning my mother's fading smile, my father's broken body, my sister's small hand slipping from mine. Then blood. So much blood. And me, at the center, staring back.
The hall around me blurred. The laughter of the court became distant, like echoes from a pit.The whisper waited, patient and soft, as the chains tightened.
The chains hummed with light, their glow reflecting in the polished marble like molten gold.The black-robed caster tilted his head and smirked. "This is the hero of legend? Years of shadow and war have shown me monsters greater than this. A summoned savior who can't even flinch."
Princess Elizabeth's eyes shone with delight. She leaned forward, lips curling into a gleeful grin as she watched the links tighten around me.
The whisper i heard earlier slid through the noise, low and intimate, curling inside my skull. This time even more defined and clear. It asked me:
Rafiel… what do you desire the most?
The king joined and he asked again this time a more mocking tone "So tell me Hero of light, Rafiel, What do you want?"
The hall around me blurred. The laughter of the court became distant, like echoes from a pit.The whisper waited, patient and soft, as the chains tightened.
Rafiel lifted his head, eyes gleaming with that eerie red-gold light. His voice was quiet but carried through the hall like the strike of a bell.
"I want to see how far life can bend before it shatters," he said, each word deliberate, almost gentle. Then a pause one heartbeat before the final edge. "And I'll start with yours."
For a fraction of a second, the court remained frozen. Then a blinding flash cracked through the chamber white, sharp, soundless.
The laughter faltered.
The robed man standing closest to me twitched. A thin line of crimson split across his torso, widening with a sickening rip. Flesh, cloth, and bone peeled apart as if an invisible blade had carved him from crown to heel. His eyes bulged in shock; no cry escaped before the two halves of his body slid wetly to the marble floor.
The chains binding me shrieked and snapped like brittle glass.
Gasps cut through the stunned silence. A noblewoman's scream rang out, high and piercing, the first voice to break the paralysis.
All the while I stared coldly at the man I just split in two.
A Hero of light they called me.
Hero of Light.
They call me that while all I've ever walked is darkness.
I am no man of the light, I am more.
They will understand.
Light does not only bless; light can wound.
Light can seep into suffering, wrap itself around death.
Light can feed misery. Light can drive the mind to madness.
They will understand. They will all understand.