The weight of a destiny

Upon entering the throne room, Opal forgot all of her resolutions in favour of staring with an open mouth at… well, everything really. That castle was like a matryoshka doll that became more refined and decorated the more what was inside was revealed, for that room really was a gem inside a precious stone. The paving was the same as the one in the hallways, but the space that went from the entrance to the throne was covered with a soft carpet, blue with silver embroideries, while the walls were an elegant combination of marble and stained glasses; no light passed through them though, except for the ones behind the throne section, so the majority had to be purely ornamental. There, the ceiling was chiselled with precision and, in the exact middle of it, there was a crystal chandelier hanging.

Opal was pulled from her reverie when the knight – Sir Petrus, apparently – fell on one knee in front of the few steps that brought to the throne, his head lowered in a mark of respect and loyalty. “Your Majesty.”

Suddenly remembering where she was and how she was supposed to behave, she hastily strived to imitate him.

“Rise, both of you” said the king in an even voice.

The knight stood up, so she followed his example, and then took advantage of that moment to look at the monarch. He was a middle-aged man with light blue eyes and short grey hair streaked with black, who would’ve even looked pretty typical if it wasn’t for the silver crown encrusted with jewels he had on his head or for the sumptuous clothes, all blues and silvers, he wore. He sat on a carved throne made with what seemed white wood, but he sat alone, for the thrones next to his – one to his left and another, slightly smaller, a bit behind – were both empty. Were the people who should’ve sat there dead? Or they simply couldn’t come? Not that she was in need of further audience, she was just instinctively curious.

“I wanted to thank you, Sir Petrus, for bringing the young Saviour to me.”

“There is no need to thank me, Your Majesty, I was simply doing my duty” he said, bowing slightly.

“Regardless, I will see to it that you are rewarded accordingly.”

“I could never be more grateful.”

Opal wished she could roll her eyes, or snort, or do anything to express her thoughts. She could bet that, under all those layers of etiquette and platitudes, he was gloating.

Afterwards, the king shifted his gaze onto her and she lost all of her internal verve. It was unnerving. “Greetings, young Saviour. I am the king of this beautiful country, Chrysoprase the Third of Kristallia.”

She curtsied – or, well, it was more like she tried to curtsy and failed miserably because she didn’t have a single elegant cell in all of her body, but it was the spirit of it that counted – and assumed what in her book was a distinguished air. The knight next to her would’ve probably had something to say about that, also because she was still in her wrinkled school uniform, but he had to stay silent and put too. She was happy they had to suffer together, at the very least. “It is truly an honour to meet you, Your Majesty.” That was… acceptable, right? Since no-one even looked at her wrong, it had to be.

“What is your name, young Saviour?”

“Opal Niji, Your Majesty.”

“Your family name is… unfamiliar to me, but your name, on the other hand, speaks of something precious.” Did it? She liked her name, but she had always thought her parents to have watched one too many nature documentaries or something before she was born. It had always stood out at school too. “It should be no wonder that you have it.”

She didn’t know what to reply to that, but luckily he had something to add.

“In any case, I am glad you are here. We have been waiting for your return for centuries now.”

“I am… not sure to be the one you were searching for, though. I am but a simple girl, Your Majesty.”

“You are not what you think you are. Besides, your arrival was a sign.”

She wanted to disagree, but restrained herself.

“You appeared in a moment of dire need, Opal Niji.”

“Why is that, if I can ask?”

The king closed his eyes for a second, as if the mere thought pained him, but then he opened them again and looked to the side, a strange glint of emotion in his gaze. “Three hundred years ago, the Golem, a monster made of rocks and mud, attacked and ravaged this country, destroying our beautiful cities in its wake. The Saintess alone, sole holder of the Untethered Magic, could fight against it on an equal footing.” He told that story as if it was a fairy tale he had heard or repeated a thousand times. Maybe it wasn’t far from the truth. “She did, and won, but now the Golem is reforming itself, slowly but surely, and you are currently the only one capable of defeating it for the second time.”

That explained a few things, at the very least, namely why she was treated like a sacred golden goose, but Opal couldn’t stop herself from frowning. “I… see. However, Your Majesty, I doubt I would be of much help, I have never been in a fight in all of my life.” Which… wasn’t completely true, because she had fought with people – albeit rarely –, but she was sure that the children from her elementary school, although some of them could be pretty mean when they wanted, weren’t comparable to golems, monsters or whatnot.

“You have no need to worry. The Saintess was in the same situation as you at first, but then she was trained by our best instructors.”

She was beginning to get annoyed. “But-”

That time, he didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “Regardless, you are the only one who can help us.”

“Actually, I-”

“You were chosen to do this. It is your destiny, and duty.”

Now, she swore she tried. She tried to restrain herself, but that was… that was simply too much, and there was a limit to patience and respect. Who did they all think they were, to decide of her fate like that? Destiny or whatever may have chosen her, but she didn’t choose this. She wanted to return to her world and live, not die in a fight she didn’t even fully understand. “What if…” She didn’t really want to pose that question, because she didn’t know what the reaction would’ve been, but the alternative was to give up and she liked it even less. She steeled herself. “What happens if I do not want to?” There, she said it.

After that, there was stunned silence. Everybody, even Sir Petrus, was staring at her with an openly shocked expression on their face, as if the mere idea of a girl refusing to sacrifice her life was unthinkable to them. She had never wished more to be able to escape from a situation before.

The seconds seemed to dilate ad infinitum, but then the king reassumed control of his expression and voice, moulding them both into something firm. “Our cities will be destroyed, and our people will lose their homes at best, or die at worst.”

That was one hell of a guilt tripping. Opal hated that it was partly working on her: she didn’t have a heart of stone, she was sorry for the people. However, she stubbornly stood her ground, clenching her fists on her trousers, her head held high and her lips a thin and straight line.

There were a few moments of charged staring, the longest of her life, after which the king closed his eyes and shook his head- in disappointment? Anger? Sadness? Was she on the verge of getting thrown in a prison cell for high treason against the crown or something like that? She dearly hoped not, but she was so scared, so when the king reopened his eyes, fixing his gaze on her, she stood ramrod straight, fighting not to look away.

He sighed. “Maybe this is all going too fast for you, and I understand. Take some time to acclimate, and think about it. We will talk again on another occasion.”

It was like an internal balloon had popped all of a sudden. She breathed a subtle sigh of relief, her muscles relaxing, and replied with a “… Thank you, Your Majesty” she didn’t actually believe in, but that had to be said. That offer still implied she would’ve accepted to fight for them, in the end, but at the very least it gave her some time to plan.

The king nodded. “The guards will show you to your rooms, Opal Niji, but you are free to roam the public areas of the castle. We will see each other in a few days time.”

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

Then, he turned to the knight – Opal had nearly forgotten about him –. “You are dismissed, Sir Petrus. You can return to your duties, but you will receive word from the castle for what concerns your reward.”

He bowed slightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

After that, everything around Opal became a flurry of movement and sounds she didn’t bother to discern, limiting herself to follow the guards around, glad as she was to just get out of there. She didn’t even notice which turns they took to reach their destination, nor when they arrived, until one of the guards came to a stop in front of a polished door and spoke to her.

“These are your rooms, my lady.” She was a lady now? Wait until her parents knew of that recent development. “We hope they will be to your liking. Search for one of us if you need anything.”

“… Sure, I will.”

They went away, probably returning to their usual duties, and she was finally left alone again. Without anything else to do at the moment, she opened the door, locking it swiftly behind her, and found herself in the nicest room she had ever seen. She knew she was in the royal castle, but still. It was incredibly spacious, she didn’t know how many times bigger than her bedroom at home, and well furnished: it was true that she was eyeing in particular the four-poster bed, which seemed very comfortable, but all the furniture was really well picked, with its elegant lines, white wood and blue fabrics. Everything was in the same style of what she had seen in the castle hallways, and there were two more closed doors on the sides: one probably led to the bathroom, but for the other she had no idea.

She would’ve gladly discovered what was that little mystery room, but apparently she should’ve waited, for she hadn’t even made a few steps in that direction when one of the windows, one of those beautiful stained glasses, exploded all of a sudden in a million colourful pieces. Opal cried out, squeezing her eyes and shielding them with her arms, as she was thrown a few steps back and fell onto her rear end. Ignoring her soreness, she immediately got back up, her heart hammering so fast in her chest it seemed like it wanted to break her rib cage. Her body was already in a fight or flight mode – more flight than fight to be honest, because who was she kidding, she barely knew how to throw a decent punch without breaking her fingers –, but she wanted at least to see who or what had destroyed her window.

It turned out that it wasn’t one of the monsters that her mind helpfully supplied her imagination with, but a simple girl. Well, 'simple' may have not been the best term, since she had entered her room uninvited by means of, you know, destroying her window, but she seemed to be around her age – and maybe a bit taller, but nearly everybody was from Opal’s point of view, she wasn’t special –. She wore comfortable clothings full of pockets and had short brown hair, but what really took Opal’s breath away, once that she removed her safety goggles, was the colour of her eyes, which was the same as molten gold.

“Hey princess” she said with a grin, winking and making finger guns, believing herself to be who knew who. “Your personal knight in shining armour has come to take you away from this boring as hell place.”