Runaway Hero and the Wannabe

I walk into a village along my path. It’s not very big or extravagant. It’s neither rich nor poor, like so many others. I can feel the pulses of life all gathered in one place. I find that investigating these sorts of gatherings is always worthwhile. Whether the people are despairing or joyful, there will often be something there for me. It’s been that way since I was the Hero. I always found a sort of solace watching people be together.

I go to the crowd quickly. Immediately it seems that they’re leaning more towards despair than celebration. I move faster to reach them. The crowd of people have gathered in front of one house. They’re all looking up and panicking, a cacophony of voices from them. At the edge of the roof is a small figure. A child standing there calmly, with nobody knowing how to get him down. He takes a step back. He starts running towards the edge cheerfully. He jumps off.

I shoot forward towards the house. I move along the edge of the crowd until I’m near the front. I jump up and grab the edge of the roof. I swing myself closer to the boy as he begins to fall. I wrap my arm around his small chest and lift us both back onto the roof. I place him down and he looks up at me. The crowd looks up at me in shock. I suppose anyone would be caught off-guard if a hooded stranger suddenly appeared and did all of that.

After a moment of stunned silence, they applaud me. They cheer me on and shower me with praise. I can’t make out the specifics. I shrink back slightly. I’ve never known how to handle this sort of thing. Why do they even bother to cheer for me? All I did was carry out my duty. All that matters is that the boy is safe. I look back at him, and he’s still staring up at me, transfixed.

I pick him back up. I walk back to the edge of the roof and squat down. I grip the edge, then spin around so we hang off of it. I look behind me, into the crowd, making sure that nobody is standing too close. When I’m sure it’s fine, I drop down onto the ground. I put the boy down next to me.

Now that nothing separates us, villagers swarm me. They all continue to thank me and praise me. They’ve begun to ask questions and make requests as well. I’m pretty sure they’re also offering things to me as a reward. But I can’t make out any of it. There are too many of them talking all at once, and I can’t follow any one voice properly. They all drown each other out, wasting all our time.

“Pardon me, but I need to return to my travels. I have business to attend to.”

Although they seem disheartened, the villagers give up. They let me pass so I can continue on. However, when I raise my leg to take a step, I feel a weak tug against the bottom of my pants. When I look back, the boy has grabbed my pant leg. He looks up at me, seemingly starstruck.

“Master, can you train me?”

Was he not listening to me? I just said I need to leave. And why did he start calling me “Master?” I didn’t agree to teach him anything. I’m sure I was never a foolish and charmless brat like this. I want to leave, but I don’t know how to get him off me.

I don’t feel like finding an answer, so I keep on walking with him holding onto me. I’m sure he’ll let go eventually.

However, he hasn’t let go. Even now that we’re a bit away from the house, he’s still holding on. He’s still asking me to train him, too.

“Master, are you taking me somewhere to train?”

I can’t take it anymore.

“Let go.” He does, then I squat and face him. “I’m not training you in anything. Go on home.” I sigh. “What would you have done if I were a kidnapper?” He looks scared.

“A kidnapper!?”

“I’m not. What do you need to be training for anyway?” Now he starts crying.

“I wanna be the Hero. Because… Because I don’t want my family to die.”

Who told a kid this stupid about that? He’s started following strangers and jumping off houses because of it. And he can’t become the Hero, no matter how hard he works. So now he’s putting himself in all this danger because he has a tiny sliver of hope he shouldn’t have because he was made afraid of something he had no business knowing. And it’s all my fault, yet again.

“I’ll train you. But only for a little while. And only if you promise not to get up on any more roofs.”

“I promise.”

I walk back to the village with him, and he takes me to his home. We stay out in the yard and I make a small play sword for him with magic.

“Come at me.”

And he does. Over and over again. I push him to the ground with gentle parries, careful not to hurt him too much, but he’s resilient. No matter what comes, he gets back up. Again and again. I feel a twinge of pain in my heart each time he rises from the ground.

He’s desperate. He must be. He has a desperation for power that I never knew. He has a passion for justice that I never knew. He wants to be the Hero just to save his family. For those few he would save us all. A boy as young as him. He throws himself into training even without receiving that call. And yet, here I stand, the Hero in the flesh, alone in the world. Having abandoned all he would save purely for my own antipathy. Running away where nobody can reach me even after hearing the call to action, even after following it so far. Why was a wretched coward like me born the Hero instead of someone like him?

I can’t stand it anymore. I swing my own dull blade for the first time. My sudden offense knocks him to the ground once more, though he seems awed by my strike.

“Master, you’re so strong!” I can’t stand it.

“You’ll never be able to become the Hero.” He looks shocked. “Only the Hero is the Hero. But you don’t need to worry. The Hero will protect us.”

And like that, although I hate it, I told that young boy with more strength than I could ever have a sweet lie.