Capítulo 3: Chapter 3
The words of the king's declaration echoed through the grand chamber, its solemn vow shaping the destiny of all. "This can only be a sign of prosperity," his booming voice served as a beacon of hope amidst uncertainty. By my side, I could feel my fellow heroes' focus sharpen and their eyes gleam with newfound determination as we stood shoulder to shoulder, united by fate.
"We have called upon you to fight for the lives of every man, woman, and child in this realm," he continued his weighty words imbuing us with a sense of purpose. His gaze swept over us, and it felt as though he was infusing his burden into our very bones. I shifted uneasily; the weight of his charge was palpable, heavy like the armor we would soon wear to face the encroaching darkness.
"The great waves of calamity are approaching once again." The king's voice cut through the silence like a sword through silk. At that moment, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation, charged with an energy that whispered of battles to come. "Monsters will soon roam our lands, and you are the chosen ones who can stop them." As his speech concluded, he gestured towards the back of the room.
No sooner had his final word echoed through the chamber than the large wooden doors groaned open at the entrance to the throne room. The creaks were quickly drowned out by the rhythmic drumming of boots against stone. Our heads snapped around, our eyes tracing the movement of figures clad in gleaming steel and supple leather. The intricate symbols etched into their armor reflected the tapestries that hung against the rough stone walls.
The king's declaration resounded with determination, "We never expected you to face these challenges alone. You have the full resources of our kingdom at your disposal." His words reverberated throughout the chamber, instilling a sense of unity amid impending chaos.
As the knights approached, our mission became more real with each step they took - a march towards a future where we would either stand as one or fall divided. As they retreated, their clinking armor filled the empty space of the room, and we stood still, almost in awe before the piles of glittering gold at our feet. The weight of their presence was tangible; each coin symbolized the king's faith in us, each gleaming piece a testament to the trust placed upon our shoulders.
"Holy shit," I whispered, breaking the silence as I carefully touched one of the coins, my eyes reflecting its sparkling golden hue. My fingers traced the edges of the currency with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
Yet as the four of us exchanged glances, a silent understanding passed between us. This gold was not our ultimate goal; it was simply a means to an end. The true prize lay beyond this wealth, in the salvation of this world.
"Including allies to join you in battle." The king's proclamation settled upon us, and I could sense the shift in stance from my companions: a readiness, a silent acceptance of the new faces now joining our ranks.
The sound of more boots against stone filled the throne room as the king's voice boomed again. "My people now is the time to choose your hero," his command seemed to reverberate off the walls, infusing the air with a sense of gravity.
I watched as the sea of faces—grim knights clad in shining mail, rogues with eyes sharp as their daggers, and mystics whose cloaks whispered secrets—began to form lines behind my fellow summoned. They were drawn, as if by an unseen force, to the allure of the sword, spear, and bow. I could feel their eagerness, their readiness to follow these archetypes into battle.
Yet, there stood the shield hero, still as a statue, his gaze sweeping over the empty space beside him. A frown creased his forehead, his lips parting in disbelief. "How is this fair?" His voice cut through the murmurs, tinged with confusion and a hint of betrayal.
The question hung heavy in the room, and several pairs of eyes darted back and forth, unsure of how to respond. I met his gaze, noting the furrow between his brows deepens. "Aren't you enraged?" he asked me directly, seeking some kind of camaraderie in our shared plight.
My response came with a smirk, a curl of my lip betraying amusement rather than outrage. "I'd prefer to only travel with people I trust," I said, the words light but honest. The truth was, I did not need numbers; I needed loyalty, something that couldn't be lined up and counted.
Just as the silence began to stretch uncomfortably, a voice pierced it with grace and confidence. "Don't worry dear shield hero, I will travel with you." All eyes turned to the source—a young woman stepping forward. Her presence seemed to fill the room with more than just her words; she carried an air of certainty, her beauty matched only by her evident strength.
"Thanks, you're a literal lifesaver," the shield hero stumbled over his gratitude, his cheeks coloring slightly as he struggled not to stare too openly at his unexpected ally.
Observing their exchange, a twinge of envy flickered within me. It was fleeting, and I pondered whether I should reconsider my earlier stance. Yet after a moment's deliberation, I shook the feeling away. I knew what I needed, and it wasn't a line of women, it was faith in those few who would stand by me when all else falls apart.
"Mind if us heroes have a moment?" I asked, my voice barely above the murmur of conversations around us, yet it cut through the noise with an odd sharpness. The others paused, turning to me with expressions that ranged from curiosity to apprehension. I gestured towards a quieter corner of the throne room, away from the prying eyes and ears of the court.
As we shuffled into formation, our makeshift huddle felt like an island free from a sea of expectations. I met their gazes one by one—the sword hero's eyes held a steely resolve, the spear hero's glimmered with a mix of excitement and fear, and the bow hero appeared enthusiastic and eager.
"So, like, any of you have any idea what's happening, besides what's already been explained to us?" My question hung in the air between us, the weight of our shared confusion momentarily bonding us.
My eyes flicked between the two heroes, taking in their weapons. The first held a gleaming sword, its razor-sharp edge glinting in the torchlight. The second wielded a long spear, its tip pointed toward the ground with a sense of confidence. I couldn't help but ask, "Why did you get a sword, and you get a spear?" My gaze shifted back and forth between them as I compared their choices for battle.
The sword hero shifted his weapon in his grip as if it were an extension of himself. "I don't know, it just feels right," he said, almost to himself, "like it's always been a part of me."
I glanced at the spear hero, who nodded in agreement. "Yeah, same here. I've never trained for combat, but holding this—" He raised the spear slightly, its tip catching the light, "—it's like muscle memory I didn't know I had."
Their words did little to dispel the knot of anxiety in my stomach. "That's just great," I muttered, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. "And here I am, supposed to be the staff hero, but I've never cast a spell before." I gripped my staff tighter, feeling the smooth wood against my palms. It was cool, almost reassuring, but it didn't change the fact that I was out of my depth.
We stood there for a moment longer, each lost in our thoughts about the road ahead. I could see it in their eyes—we were all wondering if we'd measure up to the titles we'd been given and if we could become the heroes this world needed us to be.
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