The Hero

Chapter 10

The Champion pursued the given directions, uncaring of the judgemental eyes trained on him by guards and servants alike. Light pouring in from the windows slowly began to darken, as did the number of people around him. Nothing went through his mind except for what was next. What had to be done. What would bring about triumph in its fullest form.

"Milord?"

Slowly, the Champion cast his gaze upon the source: the guard beside the throne room's door. He had already arrived.

"You are dismissed for this night," he ordered, and held up a calming hand for them to leave.

"But... our posts..."

"Dis. Missed," the Champion repeated, his visor firmly glued upon the speaking guard. In a matter of hesitant moments, they left. He watched them march away until they were out of sight. In the hour of twilight, the settling darkness, he huffed and returned his focus onto the doors. Only the flickering light of dwarven lanterns—and gentle moonlight from the window on his flank—illuminated the otherwise gloomy area.

Now alone, the Champion pressed his gauntlets against the doors to push them open, loudly creaking in its wake. When they were fully open, after what seemed like the most grueling task he had ever performed, he stumbled inside.

"Champ?"

Like he was stabbed in the heart, the Champion shifted his weary gaze onto the person on the throne. Light consumed the room in an almost fake way. Too fake to be real. Too fake to even be believed it was the truth.

"You're... dead..." the Champion declared, pointing a shaky finger ahead. Thoughts of what he had done earlier coursed through his mind. He was a murderer. He had made many enemies. He wouldn't have anybody to protect in the end. Not even Shimmer, for she left him as well.

"You must embrace the throne as if it's your child. Put your heart and soul into it, or everything will be for naught—"

"I don't listen to dead men," the Champion snapped, as he waved his gauntlets around to dismiss the fake scene; however, the man on the throne remained. A crown still sat upon his head, acting as if he were still king. As if he never died.

"Succumb to the darkness, and you will become the thing you wish to destroy—"

"Enough," the Champion grumbled. He placed a gauntlet over his helmet while trying to come back to his senses. Nothing ever worked.

"You must listen to me."

Another blow to his heart, an even deeper and fatal one, the Champion removed his shaking gauntlet to lay eyes on who stood before him. There was no man on the throne any longer. Instead, it was Shimmer, who stood in front of it with her hands clasped behind her back. Despite being in full armor, he could see a worried and pleading face. One he couldn't push out of his mind.

"All fake... everything is fake..." he murmured, then withdrew his gaze. Sunlight seemed to beam down upon him to burn him, sizzle his armor into smoke. 

"Please... there will be no turning back..." Shimmer requested, which only put another emotion into place.

"You... left me!" The Champion thrust his finger forward, despite its shaking nature. "I have been abandoned by all those I thought I trusted. Nobody will take my hand any longer. Nobody will tell me where to go or how to reach where I want to be." He huffed, disappointed that Shimmer didn't budge a single muscle.

"I will embark on my own path, and you shall see true prowess, true strength unbeknownst to all those who wish to grasp it," the Champion muttered, and let his finger slide down.