Modern Fairy-Tale

What makes one a hero ?

In fairy tales of old, a Hero needed charisma, empathy, bravery, strength and most importantly a heart that doesn't waver in the face of evil and injustice. 
But then, it gradually became required for a Hero to be merciful, to fight with honor and dignity.
For instance, an enemy raising the white flag on a battlefield was no longer an enemy. At worst they became a rightful prisoner awaiting their judgement.

Unsurprisingly, from that point on it became harder and harder to rally people around one specific definition or portrait for a Hero.

Later on, as some voices rose up collectively denounced that if a Hero absolutely needed charisma then it had to mean some people were out of the equation from birth, more and more voices started to shout out their agreement and, or, their own complaints. But it didn't stop there.

If a Hero required strength, then what did that make of the quiet 6th son of the King of Baravia after he achieved great feats of warfare with brillant strategy rather than indomitable fighting prowess; unifying tribes that until then had been fighting among themselves for who knows how long as he did so. What of him ? Shouldn't he be considered a Hero ?

Lastly, there came complaints about that unwavering heart that supposedly inspired people.
Obviously it is not up to just anybody, seasoned warriors included, to reach this amount of composure, so it feels distant and unreachable.
According to the definition of old, it would in fact prove that only a Hero, that is to say not just your average Joe, would be able to reach this pinacle. But it leaves a bitter aftertaste.
Why you ask ? Because there are people forgotten by history, who while wet at the crotch and with trembling hands and legs, were able to stand their ground against adversity. Displaying a fortitude that felt more manageable, more human, one that could inspire just about anyone, if only because of its accessibility.

"So in this day and age, nobody ever claims to be a Hero anymore. Because real life Heroes can be anyone, as long as even a single person firmly believes them to be one." The Bard concluded.

                                                                   ________________

Judging by the position of the sun as well as the temperature, it seemed to be around midday. And while I would usually be hunting in the surrounding mountains around this time, I found myself coerced into joining this minstrel's performance.

The shady-looking musician wore a dark grey coat with a hood which cast a shadow over his eyes. Underneath he had a simple black lether breastplate over a grey shirt, and by the sound of it, it seemed he wore a chainmail still underneath. With dark grey pants and black knee-high boots, he did all but inspire confidence to anybody meeting him for the first time.

What's more, whether acting as a dissuading measure or rather as an everyday asset of his arsenal, he kept a curved short sword at his waist.
As for his instrument, his "Phorminx" as he called it, it highly resembled the Lyre I knew from my world. U-shaped with a wooden base, thicker at the bottom and with seven strings neatly affixed vertically from a thin wooden cylindar, and then linked to the top of each side and to the inner curve of the U, the clash between such a delicate product of craftsmanship, his silent gait, and his overall appearance, easily felt disquieting.

That being said, once he got going in front of a crowd, a small, peaceful smile would find its way onto his handsome yet scarred face. Which must have been why people still gathered around him despite his looks.


It had been ten days since he came to this small mountainside village so naturally people had long since gotten acclimated to his antics. What had been peculiar about him recently however, is that he had been going around the village all morning the previous day asking for an actor to help animate his last show before he left to continue on his journey. 

Hello I'm looking for a tall, blond or light brown-haired man with great looks and a toned body to accompany me in the last piece I want to share to everyone here before my departure. Would somebody happen to know of someone that fits the bill ? If so please come find me before nightfall !   Is what he had been asking around the central plaza incessantly on the ninth day.
But what was the most annoying about this wasn't even his insistence in itself, it was the fact that his description obviously aimed at singling me out. Yet somehow he felt the need to keep up with this nonsense instead of simply walking up to me to ask me directly.

So after enduring half a day of his shouting, alternating between paying him attention and focusing on the sewing I wanted to get done that day, I gave up and met up with him to ask what he needed me for.

                                                                  ________________

After finding the most fitting candidate for his final piece, the highlight of his short stay, ██████, the self-proclaimed "Truth Digger", initiated this last performance.


“Once, there was a hero going by the moniker “Taiyo”. Borrowing a few letters from both of his names to form “The sun” in his mother tongue, he attempted to make a name for himself in this new life." The bard prefaced.

"As he worked for it, it did not take long before people started spreading his name. In fact, as more and more people had the chance to interact with him, not only did this moniker become a symbol born from his sunny personality in this world, it also cemented itself in the hearts of his people as a glorification of his proficiency with the fire-attribute's school of magic on the battlefield. Or so the rumors said.”

“You have guessed it, the story I wish to present to you today is of course the legend of Taitaku Hyouma—aka Taiyo– the summoned hero from another world, from his rebirth to his disapearance in the span of a measly two years.” He declared with enthusiasm.

“This is an heroic tale, a tragic tale, the inspiring endeavor of a foreigner forced to share the burden of the sun in a faraway land. For there seemed to be people in need of his radiance even in places formerly unknown to him.” The minstrel took a pause, basking in the curious eyes of his audience.

“Now then what would you say if I told you that I am about to re-enact his story with the main protagonist himself ?" 
After making one of his customary pauses to both gauge his audience's reaction and brush a few strings of his instrument, he then spread both of his arms wide, took a deep breath, and introduced the aforementioned main protagonist of the play.

"Here, for today only, let me introduce you to the one I selected to be my partner for this performance. Wielding the infamous Hero's garb that is to say what used to be akin to a second skin to the man, please welcome 'Eclipse', the Hero-killer!”

With a round of applause, the audience celebrated my appearance. I went to stand beside the bard and bowed at the waist. I really need to get used to this nickname... I thought dismissively.
Oh but look at them, thinking I'm borrowing the name for some kind of added effect...Being infamous for my deeds really has its perks huh. Damn, how I would love to see their reactions if they learnt I was the real deal...

The stage was set and I was about to experience the most unforgettable memory I held, again, before the innocent eyes of people completely unrelated to the whole story.
I might enjoy this more than I anticipated after all. I thought, as a sinister grin played across my lips.