The Hero

Chapter 6

One by one, people filled into the room. Some came in right after those before them, while others had long, awkward periods in between their arrivals. pBut in the end, they all entered inside with the doors shutting behind them. The main similarity among them was the tacky and rich clothing they wore, though they seemed to form small groups or isolate themselves completely. Like a band of children.

"Where are the tables?" one of the men demanded, impatiently pacing around. "You can't possibly expect us to be standing like this for hours!"

"Silence, Grivdon," another man remarked, his burly mustache hiding an obvious frown. With that, the two fell into an arguing bout. Of course, that two became many in a matter of seconds. Pointless bickering. All in the presence of their king?

"You are graced by my presence," the Champion interrupted them all, waving his gauntlet away dismissively. His words stopped the arguing, but stares and glares were still thrown. "What matters are to be discussed today?"

"Well, milord," a woman spoke up. "As a collaborative decision, we've decided to—"

"It wasn't collaborative!" Grivdon snapped in bitter frustration, thrusting a finger at the woman. "I took no part in this! He has no right to know these matters. It should be up to us completely—"

"The ruling cabinet is a temporary body to maintain order," the woman interrupted, her voice clear and bold. "But we are below the King, therefore we must listen to Him with our gracious support."

Praise followed, as did disapproval. The room seemed to be split at its very core, a thin line being drawn between the two opposing factions. Humans never strayed away from conflict. Useless as it may be, it would always be rooted in their hearts.

"Speak without permission and you will be thrown out in an instant," the Champion ordered. When the arguing didn't stop, he pounded his gauntlet furiously against his throne's arm. Rippling silence engulfed the room. Satisfied, he sat back in a looser state, but still remained tense and in command. Once a commander, always a commander. 

"Now, there is a list of priorities I wish to go through," he continued, and boredly tapped the arm beside him. He truthfully didn't care much, but he had to do it anyway. "Firstly, the situation with the bandits. Is the Crimson Order still in power or is it some other group I have not heard of?"

"Permission?" Grivdon requested, and was granted moments later by a quick nod. He inhaled a sigh of relief, as if he were suffocating before. "This group is said to have taken the name of the Void's Wrath," he chuckled, clearly amused at the name, "something that is incredibly stupid and—"

"I did not ask for comments and opinions," the Champion interjected, then clasped his gauntlets together. He set his gaze upon the woman who hesitantly met it. "How far have they gotten? How large is their army and support? If we engage openly, will it really result in war?"

"It is limited what we know about them, but it is safe..." The woman tugged her collar with pursed lips. "To say that war is inevitable upon engagement."

"Not inevitable, drama queen," the man with the burly mustache remarked. "It'll be a risk, that's all. We can strike them down there and then. One push and they're finished!"

"Drama queen? I'll—"

"Permission is required," the Champion declared, weary of foolish company. It only made him more and more desiring for Shimmer to be at his side. Something he wished not to think of, though the flower inside of him continued to bloom and grow. It did want him to see her—he did. Like a void needing to be fulfilled.

"Sorry, milord, but I am not a drama queen—"

"Irrelevant insults should have no place in this room," the Champion grumbled, then fanned his view from left to right at the people before him. They were still staring daggers at each other. "Nor should they be taken. You know your true self and name. There is no reason to embrace such nonsense and act defensively upon it."