Fifteen

The sounds of blades clashing resounded in the cool morning air, interrupting the birdsong that was usually prevalent in this garden. Upon the manicured green lawn I faced my opponent. He was a tall, slim man in his thirties and dressed finely in the latest fashion from Vilgur. His keen eyes tracked my movements, adjusting his stance in anticipation of countering my next move.

I lashed out with my sword which was intercepted by his own. He quickly followed up with a thrust, barely missing me as I stepped backwards to get out of his reach. We then began circling each other, both of us looking for openings in the other’s defense.

“Good, good,” the man told me. “Your footwork is improving. Try not to lock your knees, though.”

I nodded at his instructions, then dashed forwards with my blade. Our spar continued.

Sir Hirch had been good on his promise and found me a rapier instructor. Sir Mallen Gidz was supposedly one of the best teachers of the Sword Artist style in the capital. The Sword Artist is a style of swordplay that focuses on the rapier. It is named as such for the elegant and graceful movement of the sword which has been likened to that of an artist waving his brush. This has made it popular among the upper echelons of society and is the most common style used in dueling competitions.

Sir Gidz and I continued the lesson for another half hour before he finally called it quits. “Alright, that’s enough for today. You are showing remarkable improvements, Lady Amelia. Keep it up and I’d say you’ll graduate from novice to intermediate level soon enough.”

I beamed at him. At least I could do one thing right. “I’ll be sure to work harder than ever. Thank you, Sir Gidz. Same time next week?”

The tall man nodded. “Of course.”

“Marsie,” I called over one of the maids who was standing by. “Please get Sir Gidz’s payment for this month.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the young maid. She moved over to a nearby table and picked up a small wooden chest. I knew that inside it was filled to the brim with gold. The maid quickly handed the chest over to my sword instructor while bowing.

“Thank you,” he said as he hefted the small but heavy chest. “Once again, Lady Amelia, your generosity knows no bounds.”

“You’re well worth it,” I told him, and it was the truth. There weren’t many sword instructors willing to teach a student who could accidentally kill or injure him if they weren’t careful. My redirection barrier couldn’t be turned off, and it made no distinctions between sparring and a real fight. We had a pretty close call in our first lesson when Sir Gidz’s practice sword managed to get past mine and hit me directly in the shoulder. The barrier reacted, redirecting the force of the hit back at Sir Gidz’s hand. Thankfully, he wasn’t using much weight behind his strikes so he avoided any serious injury. His arm was pretty sore, though.

At first, I thought that the man would storm off and refuse to teach me anything else, but he surprised me by laughing off the incident. He even continued with the lesson despite being hurt. Such dedication to one’s craft deserved to be rewarded, so I added a hefty bonus in addition to his regular fee. I told him it was hazard pay.

Besides, It was the king’s money, not mine. What did I care?

Just as we were about to wrap up, another maid popped out of the house then rushed towards me.

“Ma’am! Ma’am!” She all but shrieked. “A-a message just arrived from the king himself! He wishes for you to come to the castle immediately!”

“Immediately?” I asked. “What’s this about? Did the messenger say?”

The maid nodded, looking pale. “Yes, ma’am. An envoy from the Alliance has just arrived. And he brought a Hero with him!”

My eyes widened in shock. What? One of the five Heroes was here in Duncan?

“Oh dear,” said Sir Gidz, who had heard what the maid had said. “It seems as if you have other business to attend to. I’ll leave you to it then, Lady Amelia. Farewell.”

The sword instructor bowed before proceeding to flee the scene. I guess he didn’t want any part of whatever storm was brewing.

I rushed into the house and summoned Griselda. I told her what had just happened and that I was needed at the castle ASAP. My personal maid quickly agreed, then rushed up the stairs with me towards my room. I was still sweaty from my sword lessons, but there was no time to clean up and take a bath. I still needed to look presentable though, so I stripped off my dirty training clothes and put on a more formal dress, one befitting a meeting with royalty.

While dressing, all my attention was focused on the fact that a Hero was here in the capital. Part of me was curious about what the Alliance wanted, but most of my interest lay with the Hero. This was someone who came from my world. Someone from Earth who was summoned to this strange place like I had been. This was another person who knew exactly what I was going through. I was extremely excited to meet someone I could actually relate to.

Maybe we could be friends!

After brushing my hair until it was reasonably straight, Griselda and I rushed out of the room. Thankfully the maids were wise enough to inform the carriage driver of my upcoming trip so the vehicle was ready as soon as we got outside.

I was tapping my heel on the floor of the carriage as it rumbled through the bumpy road that led towards the capital. This was so slow! We weren’t riding the royal carriage, which had just been on loan from the castle. Sadly, our current carriage wasn’t being pulled by magic robot horses, just ordinary ones so it wasn’t as fast. I was tempted to just get out and use my powers to get there quicker, but I knew that wasn’t going to help. The streets of Vilgur were pretty crowded at this time and I could possibly injure or kill a lot of people if I just dashed through town using my abilities. If only I could learn how to fly!

It seemed like hours before we finally made it to the castle. The trip through the streets of the capital was sheer torture. They were not only crowded but jam-packed with people. It seemed as if word had gotten out that one of the five Heroes was at the castle. A large gathering had formed outside the gates in order to catch a glimpse of one of the protectors of humanity. The guards were having a hell of a time herding them out of the way so that my carriage could pass through.

As we were halfway through the throng of onlookers, something happened which made them even more rambunctious. I guess one of the gawkers had seen me through the window of the carriage because I began to hear shouting

“It’s the Hero Amelia! It’s the Hero Amelia!”

Everyone gasped and looked at me through the window. They obviously recognized my pale face, white hair, and red eyes since they too began to roar in excitement. The crowd surged forwards and began to surround my carriage.

“Amelia! It’s actually Amelia!” They shouted.

I could only smile and wave at the jubilant mass of people shouting my name.

Thankfully it only took the guards ten minutes to sort out that mess. The people were pushed back and my carriage was finally able to enter the castle grounds. I opened the door once we were parked outside the keep and jumped down onto the familiar gravel path.

“Calm down, My Lady,” Griselda chided me as she carefully emerged from the carriage door.

She was right. I was getting worked up over nothing. So what if another Hero was here? No big deal. Sure they were the only link to my past, a past that I absolutely loathed, but it was my past nonetheless. I’m sure it’ll be fine. The Heroes were probably just normal people. With normal, everyday problems. Problems that I could not relate to since I wasn’t normal.

Oh god! What if they don’t like me?

Stop it. Just stop. Get your act together before you embarrass yourself.

I took a long, deep breath which served to steady my racing heartbeat. I did so again and again until I was satisfied that I wouldn’t be tripping over myself due to nerves. I looked over at Griselda and she gave me a small nod.

I stepped towards the keep and climbed the front stairs, my maid following a few steps behind me. The guards stationed at the front doors recognized me instantly; they opened the doors and allowed us through. Soon we found ourselves in the richly decorated great hall that led to the castle throne room.

As we were walking down its length, our boot heels clicking against the stone floor, I noticed that there was a small group gathered near the throne room doors. Four of them looked like soldiers, but they were not dressed in the light blue uniforms of Duncan. These men were clad in red and white. Light plate armor covered their chest, wrists, and shins; the armor was made from a golden-colored metal, though it was obvious to even my untrained eyes that the material was not gold. The men were standing around another figure, this one leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking for all the world like he was bored out of his mind.

My eyes widened upon seeing this man and I knew instantly that he was the Hero. First of all, he was Latino. Everyone I’ve met in this world looked like Europeans for some reason so it was obvious that he wasn’t a local. He was skinny and looked to be my age, with messy black hair and brown eyes. He wore a long brown duster-style overcoat that covered a red silk shirt and black vest. Over baggy black pants, he wore a large leather belt that held bulging compartments, the contents of which were unknown to me. Black buckled boots completed his ensemble, which frankly made him look like a nerdy cowboy sans the hat.

When he noticed me approaching, his head lifted up. Brown eyes scanned me up and down as I moved closer. His lips then puckered into a frown, looking as if it had just tasted something sour. As soon as I was near enough to hear he decided to speak up.

“Hey,” he said; his voice was much deeper than I thought it would be. “You this shithole’s Hero?”

What?

“What?”

“I said, are you this shithole of a kingdom’s heeee rooooh?” He spoke as if he were talking to a very dumb child. Upon seeing my unamused frown, he laughed. “Oh, come on! You gotta agree that this place is the pits, man. Now don’t get me wrong, this entire planet is a primitive dump, but this country is somethin’ else! Talk about a Third World shitstain.”

This guy was a piece of work. All the excitement that I felt just moments ago about meeting another Hero quickly evaporated with every word he said.

“Hey, you look mad, girl. C’mon, don’t be like that. I was just joking! I was joking! This place is great!” He didn’t even try to make it sound convincing. “Let’s start over, ok? The name’s Andre. I’m the True Shot Hero.”

I wanted to go home.

“I’m Amelia,” I told him. “I, uh, don’t have a nickname.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Andre said, waving his hand. “The public will give you one eventually. That’s how I got mine. And the others, too.”

Oh, that was something I didn’t know. I began to wonder about what moniker I would be given. Suddenly curious about something, I asked him, “Why do they call you the True Shot Hero?”

Andre smirked. He stuck one of his thin arms into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin. He started flipping it into the air a few times. Once, twice, thrice. Then, on the final flip, his hand grabbed the coin and flicked it towards me. The coin darted through the air with a velocity that should not have been possible. It raced past my head, missing my cheek by a mere inch. I heard a loud thud behind me and turned to look back. At first, I couldn’t see anything different, but then I spotted a glint of silver in the dim light of the hall. I moved closer to the source and spotted the coin, which had embedded itself halfway into one of the hallway’s wooden pillars.

What the hell? Was that vector control? Did this jackass have the same power that I did?

I looked back at the Hero with worry.

“Cool, huh?” He asked with a smile. “I can do that with anything. Rocks, pencils, knives. I just toss it and POW. Instant victory. Oh, and I never miss!”

As the Hero continued bragging I felt my panic lessen. Oh good, it was just an amplified aiming power and not true vector control. Andre couldn’t do the same things I could do, which was probably good news for the rest of the world.

“So,” he said. “What can you do?”

“Uh,” I glanced around the hallway, looking for something that I could use to show off my power. Sadly there wasn’t anything viable nearby. “If I used my power here I’d probably end up destroying the place.”

Andre’s face twisted into a sour expression. He pushed himself off the wall before leaning forward to point an accusing finger at me. “Oh, I see. You think your power’s so great that you don’t need to show me. You think you’re better than me.”

“N-no!” That wasn’t what I meant!

“Fuck this.” The Hero shook his head in disgust. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to saunter down the hall towards the exit. He sneered as he walked past me and Griselda.

“Yo! Cap!” He shouted over his shoulder to the group of soldiers behind him. “I’m goin’ home.”

One of the red uniformed men looked surprised. “But, sir! Lord Shevis is still meeting with the king!”

“I don’t care,” Andre said without turning around. “I only came on this trip in the first place so that I could see this new Hero for myself.” He finally stopped. With a twist of his neck and bony shoulders, he turned to face me. “From the rumors going around, I thought I’d get to meet someone tough and cool. Instead, I get this: a little albino freak in a fancy dress.” He suddenly spat out a loogie onto the carpet, the phlegm staining the rich red fabric.

Is this what it felt like to get bullied?

Ignoring my shocked look, Andre turned around to continue on his way towards the exit.

“Sir!” shouted the Alliance officer once more. He sounded exasperated. “At least let me arrange an escort for you!”

“Don’t need it,” the Hero yelled back. He soon got to the doors and slammed them open, startling the soldiers outside who were guarding them. Andre then stepped out into the bright sunlight outside and was soon gone from my sight.

That guy was a Hero?

I heard a cracking sound coming from the group of Alliance soldiers. I looked back and saw that the captain was grinding his teeth. He obviously wanted to say something harsh towards his charge but was trying very hard to restrain himself. I kind of sympathized.

“Is he always like that?” I asked him.

The captain sighed and shook his head. “No, My Lady. Unfortunately, he can get much worse.”

I saw a few of his men nod slightly in agreement.

“My Lady,” Griselda whispered to me. “The king is waiting.”

Oh crap. I forgot.

I bowed to the group of soldiers who returned my courtesy with a crisp salute. Then, as swiftly as I could without running, I made my way to the throne room doors. The fully-armored knights standing guard there slammed their lances down onto the stone floor, and soon the large entrance was drawn open by the porters inside. Griselda stayed by the door as I walked inside the grand throne room, which looked just as ostentatious as the first time I saw it. I made my way down the red carpet which led me to the two thrones sitting upon a raised dais. King Alcor sat on the right-most throne, looking as imperious and unflappable as ever. The queen was absent, leaving the second throne empty.

By the steps of the dais stood a collection of well-dressed older men. I recognized Duke Reynard’s sharp face among them, and I spotted Ghaldor as well. Standing alongside them yet separate (if that makes any sense) were a second group of men, just as well-dressed as the first. Their style of clothing was much different. While the first group, with the exception of Ghaldor, were dressed up in fashion that looked to be quasi-17th Century, the second group were clothed in frock coats and top hats, eerily similar to the fashions of the 19th Century.

“Ah, she has arrived at last,” the king said aloud as I stepped up to the gathering. He turned to one of the Victorian-era dressed men and said, “Ambassador Shevis. I proudly present to you Duncan’s Hero, Amelia.”

The man he was addressing smiled widely and gave me a regal bow. He was in his early 40’s and had thinning brown hair. He was also slightly overweight, with a bit of pudge in his belly and soft jowls on his chin. Instead of being unsightly though, the extra weight made him look kindly. He reminded me of the stereotypical favorite uncle in several of the sitcoms that I had watched.

“Hero Amelia. I have heard many stories of your various adventures during the last few months.” The man smiled, which strangely seemed to cause his eyes to twinkle. “I am Earl Lizio Shevis and I am the representative to the interests of the Altrech Alliance. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

I returned the Ambassador’s bow with a perfect curtsy. “The pleasure is all mine, Lord Shevis.” Ha ha. I had done so many of these formal gatherings during the last few months that I’m pretty much an expert in decorum now. “I hope that your stay in Duncan will be a pleasant one.”

The Ambassador looked shocked. “Oh my, do my eyes and ears deceive me? A well-mannered Hero? I never thought I’d see the day.” The guys in the top hats chuckled while Shevis turned back to the king. “You have trained her exceptionally well, Your Majesty! She is such a proper young lady! I would never have been able to tell that she was a commoner from another world!”

Did this guy just compliment me or insult me?

“I’m afraid I had nothing to do with it,” said the king. “What you see before you is the result of Lady Amelia’s own hard work and dedication. We were extremely lucky to summon her.” The sovereign turned towards me and gave me a warm smile.

Oh, wow. I think that was the first time the king has said a nice thing about me. Maybe he’s finally forgiven me for maiming his son?

“Well then,” King Alcor said before turning his attention back to Shevis. “Ambassador. Now that Lady Amelia is here, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us what has brought you to our humble kingdom? What does the mighty Alliance want with us?”

“Ah. To business, then.” The earl coughed into his hand before straightening his back so that he appeared taller. The kindly, joking smile that he wore earlier vanished, and in its place was a look of seriousness. “I am here, Your Majesty, as a simple messenger.”

One of his cohorts pulled out an envelope from his briefcase. Ambassador Shevis took it and held the letter out towards the king. I glanced at the white envelope and saw that its lip was sealed with wax. Upon the wax was imprinted the image of five cups surrounding a glowing star; it was the seal of the Alliance.

An aide stepped forwards and took the letter from the ambassador. He then climbed the stairs of the dais and passed the envelope over to the king. Alcor looked down at the official seal with a stiff frown on his bearded face. I could tell that he was worried about what it contained. Was the Alliance mad at them for summoning a sixth Hero? Was the letter a declaration of war?

The king broke the wax seal, then pulled out a folded sheet of paper from the envelope. He opened it and began to read its contents. Tense seconds passed as everyone in the room waited for him to finish. Many grew worried when the king’s eyes widened in shock at the letter’s contents. Alcor raised his eyes towards the ambassador and asked in a shaky voice. “Is this official?”

“It is indeed, Your Majesty,” Shevis told him with a wide smile. “That letter is signed by the kings of Tamsin-Annessi, Penglos, Zarta, and Cennik, as well as the president of Scepter.”

“Your Majesty,” spoke up Duke Reynard. I could see a small bead of sweat had formed upon his brow. “Is something amiss? What does the letter say?”

Seeing that the king himself was beside himself and unable to speak, Ambassador Shevis answered for him. “The letter is a formal document inviting the Kingdom of Duncan to become the sixth member of the Altrech Alliance.”

There were amazed gasps from the king’s court. Duke Reynard, who was usually so composed, appeared to be astounded. One of his hands covered his mouth to hide his shocked expression. Ghaldor had a dark scowl on his face, his eyes glaring daggers at the ambassador. And the king sat limp in his throne, still reading the letter with wide eyes.

As for me, I just stood there looking confused.

… Was this a good thing or not?