Runaway Hero and the Noble

Today I find myself somewhere entirely new. As the Hero, I had never come to this region of the kingdom. There are few demon attacks here, and when there are, the local militias are somehow able to handle it. The population of this region, or so I’ve heard, is very sparse. Many people fled elsewhere, even if it meant living somewhere more dangerous. The rumor mills in the castle say it’s because of the evils of the lord of the region. However, I don’t put much stock in the gossip of aristocrats and servants with little else to occupy themselves. As far as I know, there’s never been an investigation into this man, and so there’s little solid evidence to judge him as evil.

As I stroll into town, I’m quickly greeted with a somewhat familiar sight. People are crowded around me, greeting me. Although it has nothing to do with me, but with my existence as a traveler and a stranger. These people don’t even know I’m the Hero and they still treat me like this. Perhaps those rumors spread further than the castle walls. As an older man shakes my hand, I decide to get confirmation.

“Pardon me, sir, but is the lord a good lord?” The man seems puzzled for a moment.

“It’s hard to say. Nobody has heard anything from him in more than a decade.”

“Pardon? Where is his residence?”

“It’s real easy to find, but I doubt you’ll be able to get an audience.”

The man points off in a direction. I follow his finger and see the manor immediately. I start walking towards it. The manor is on top of a far off cliff facing the ocean. It’s barely even fair to say it’s in the city. Not only is the man a recluse, but he lives in a separate space entirely.

The mere idea of this noble irritates me. The anticipation of meeting with him is much too irritating for me to bear for long. I rush along the path. I make my way to the foot of the road leading up to the manor in only a few short minutes. For the average person it would take quite a while longer though, I’m sure. How misanthropic can one man be?

Strangely, as I approach the polished metal gate, an old butler stands just outside facing towards me. He bows with poise and begins to talk in a slow, elegant voice.

“I’m very sorry sir, but the lord is refusing to meet with anyone at the moment. If you have a message, I shall relay it to him. Otherwise, I ask that you return to the city.”

“Is the lord ill? I’ve heard he hasn’t met with anyone in decades.”

“Sir, that is no concern of yours. If you have no purpose here but frivolity, I ask that you leave.”

“I do have a purpose here, but it can only be achieved by seeing the lord myself.”

I can already tell that talking will get me nowhere. I teleport behind the butler, past the gate. The butler whips around, but I’ve already started to run. By the time the butler has opened the gate, I’ve already teleported inside the building.

A threatening wave of power washes over me as soon as I appear in the entrance hall. Although the butler is fast approaching, I stand here dumbstruck. I can’t believe that a power that can give me pause still exists. It’s not nearly as powerful as the Demon King’s power, which I can still faintly feel even now, but it is far more overbearing. It’s sickening. I breathe under these conditions, and start to adapt. As the butler begins to open the door, I’ve begun to run once more. I run towards whatever the source of this power is.

I reach an ornate door, behind it the place the power emanates from. I teleport inside. The only thing here is a large bed. In the bed is a shrivelled up man from whom the power comes. He’s perfectly still, as if he were a corpse, though I can feel the pulse of his life. I stand over him and look upon his emaciated frame. Suddenly, I hear a voice throbbing inside my head.

“None were meant to see me again. Name yourself.”

“My name is Alan. Now what are you?”

“So you’re the Hero? I am the lord of this land. I suppose I ought to offer you my gratitude.”

“I’m no Hero. I…”

“And that’s what I’m so thankful for.”

“What?”

“The Demon King can’t come soon enough, is what I’m saying.”

“How could you? It’s—”

“My duty? How dare you lecture me, boy! Haven’t you abandoned a duty much more vital than mine already?”

“I… I—”

“Quite honestly, I don’t care at all why you did it. I’m too old now to care about your childish temper tantrums.” His sigh echoes around my skull. “I’ve spent my whole life in this bed, yet I’ve never been able to sleep. I just want to sleep now. Be quiet and leave me to it.”

“Can you not sleep?”

“Not like you people. My power keeps me aware throughout the night. I can’t get a moment of peace even while I dream. There’s nothing for me to look forward to but the death of the world.”

I suppose I understand. I’ve been told that as a child, owing to my lack of fatigue, I would start attacking soldiers at random while I slept. At a certain point I stopped sleeping entirely. Though at least I can still escape from everything for just the moments I rest. This man is the same as me at his core, I’m certain now.

“Why do you choose to be confined in this manor so far away from the city?”

“I’m done talking. Leave me.”

I can tell that talking will do nothing now. I turn and leave, teleporting to the outside in quick jumps. I leave the noble behind. Now aware of his power, I feel it vaguely suffused into the land itself. He’s been the one protecting this region so dutifully. He loves them. He loves his people.

We aren’t the same after all. We’re both burdened with power and the duty to protect people. Both cursed to never connect and live alone. And ultimately we both decided not to protect anyone, giving up the identities we’ve inhabited for so long. But he loves people where I cannot. His antipathy is false, while my apathy is real.

And yet together we are just two men. Two men too strong to die, and so forced to wait until death comes, all in our lonesome. He’ll do it in his manor. I’ll do it at the edge of the world.