The flickering light of a small television illuminated the simplistic bedroom occupied by a youth watching it from his bed. The room was simple, with only general furniture. The only exception was the boxes packed in the closet.

The TV flickered as the news report started. Behind the reporter that appeared was a university partially blocked by the protesters.

“As many know approximately nine months ago, a phenomenon began which experts have dubbed ‘The Convergence.’ The phenomenon consists of youths and young adults appearing to be ‘Abducted’ from Earth and thrown into a different world.

“Since this phenomenon began, thousands have disappeared. Roughly twenty-five percent of those have safely returned by this point. They came back with stories of worlds thought to be pure fantasy. However, there is no evidence that these worlds are the same.

“Many testimonies support the existence of many distinct worlds. Unfortunately, most experts are unable to prove whether the abductions are a natural phenomenon or the act of higher intelligence. Most claims that aliens are responsible have no longer hold validity because many of the former abductees have developed strange abilities which force even the most reluctant of scholars to believe in ‘Magic,’ ‘Ki,’ and other abilities initially constrained to the imagination.

“In response to these youths, dubbed SUPERs, the government has started to create SUPER classes to ensure the safety and growth of those talented young individuals. Privately, the government has helped the newly founded Otherworldly Corporation create some specialized facilities across the country and approved the controversial and private Hero’s Association. Both of these facilities will help SUPERs become a benefit to socie-” *CLICK* as the television turned off.

“Yeah, right, “the youth said out loud with a sigh as he flicked the remote onto his bed with a hint of annoyance. “You keep them there to watch over and control them while seeing if there is any benefit for military application...” The youth sighed again as he rolled onto his side and pulled out his phone.

His face was illuminated by the group text that hadn’t received a message in weeks.

[18 tomorrow, huh. I can’t say I feel like an adult. I guess the benefit is that I will have more freedom and can remake my social life. I still can’t believe that ass went out of his way to destroy it. I didn’t care or even notice that he had them meet when I was busy, then used the fact I never mentioned who I was against me. Oh well, real friends wouldn’t have left me out to dry, so it’s more their loss than mine.

[Still, I wish... I wish it never happened. I finally made some friends among my peers, and even Samantha doesn’t reply to me… It almost feels like the world is rejecting me. I wonder… I wonder what it’s like to go to an entirely different world; a world where no one assumes who I am. Maybe I should go back to Japan...]

As he lay and waited for the embrace of sleep to come upon him, he let his thoughts wander free.

His closed eyes suddenly filled with light, which caused him to sit up in surprise. He blankly stared at the white orb of above him; an orb that was similar to the many reports over the last nine months.

The orb expanded into an oval and began to descend towards him. “Really? How cliché.” the youth said with a sarcastic smile and laugh, yet he did not move and even seemed to embrace the light as it consumed him.

Endless darkness was all that the youth found one the light had disappeared.

The next sensation the youth felt was falling in darkness. In this darkness, he heard a masculine voice which sounded ancient:

For I have seen the future

Ever-changing

Never predictable

Yet I have seen the future

Darkness comes for our world

Above, Below, Between

Like the mouth of a beast

Darkness comes from our world

But there is hope

But there is chance

But there is Fate

For I have seen the future

Fate decrees He will come

From nowhere

From elsewhere

Without Him, darkness will conquer all

Fate does not assure His victory

Fate does not decree Him just

Fate only states the coming darkness

Fate only states He will come

He can defeat the darkness

He can liberate the darkness

He can become the darkness

Without Him, darkness will conquer all

Do not hinder His path

Do not deny Him leave

For it will be Our loss

For only He can break the Fate of us all

[A prophecy? How original.] He thought as he had heard a similar story from some who had returned, much less fantasy media.

The youth felt his stomach lurch as he experienced a short fall before the impact of something soft and bouncy transmitted to him. [Cloth?] he thought as he felt around blindly. In the dark, a female voice uttered a word, and a light appeared at his back. As he saw the room, he found it to have a medieval motif, but he brushed that aside and brought his attention to the room owner.

[A young woman… No... A girl?] He thought as he found himself on the end of her large bed, far enough away that he had fallen without harming her.

The girl held a flame that revealed her. She wore a white nightgown with lace and ribbon with a transparent layer over the rest. Her face was beautiful and also slightly tomboyish in a way that emphasized her youth. Panic replaced the slight signs of drowsiness on her face. The youth couldn’t help but notice her hair. Even in the flickering light from the flame in her hand, he could tell her hair was not blonde, but golden.

[“Really?”] The youth thought. [“I’ve only just arrived, and you throw me in bed with a pretty girl? Good thing I’m not a pedophile, but a gentleman, else this would have been bad. So, world, what are you going to throw at me next?”]

The youth slowly raised his hand “Excuse m-”

“Hiii!” the girl screamed in surprise and fear as she pointed her flaming hand towards the youth. Before he could respond, the fire shot in front of him and exploded. The next thing he realized that he was upside down against the wall. Uncomfortably, he looked up at the golden-haired girl, and only one last thought crossed his mind before he lost consciousness from the pain.

[A fireball? Touché].

End of Day -325

The moonlight that shone through the window bars illuminated the cell that the youth occupied. The simple accommodations, like the bed he was on, that implied he was given better treatment then a criminal.

The design reminded him of medieval cells, so the society he found himself in should be similar. That meant the girl, who was dressed well and had a well-furnished room, was most likely of high status. With this in mind, he was thankful he had woken up at all.

He wanted to sit up and assess his situation more thoroughly but immediately stopped. Pain shocked him as it felt as though a thousand ants were flowing through his bloodstream and were worming towards his heart. He was in so much pain that he couldn’t scream if he wanted to, nor could he track time.

After an unidentifiable amount of time had passed, light stuck his eyes and roused him. [The sun is coming up? Did I pass out because of the pain?] The youth wondered as he began to move. [The pain is disappearing and… my body feels lighter?] His bones slightly cracked as he gently stretched and felt his body slowly so he could get used to the foreign sensations. While immersed in exploring his body’s changes, an old lady walked towards him.

Her height was that of a child furthered by how she walked bent over with a cane. Her ragged gray hair and loose skin made her seem unkempt even though she wore fine clothes. Martel watched her eyes assess him with a hint of concern before she began to speak with him.

“I can’t understand you.” The youth said as he shrugged his shoulders to try and get his point across. He could identify a couple of words as variation or hybrid of old Norse and German, but it was foreign enough so he could not make conversation with her. The youth tried a few words she may understand, but after a few attempts, she put her skinny old finger to his lips and shook her head.

Then, a state of shock struck her face. She grabbed his wrist, and her eyes became even wider as the youth felt an energy enter from her. She spoke a few words to the guards and then left in a rush. One of the guards promptly approached the youth and slowly took his arms to lightly tie a rope around him. His expression seems to be of fear and apprehension. [Am I that scary looking?] The youth couldn’t help but think with a mental sigh.

The youth did not put up any resistance as he decided to go with the flow. His current situation would only become worse if he tried anything strange as he expected more guards in the vicinity. The guard pointed to the door and lightly tugged the rope to prompt the youth to walk behind him.

After having left the prison and walked some distance, they reached a vast mansion similar in appearance to a European Manor House. The guard led the youth inside until they reached a highly decorated bedroom on the second floor. He pointed to the chair to prompt the youth to sit down as he undid the ropes.

Once he was left alone, the youth decided to check his body further. It was then he discovered he has gotten slightly stronger even though he didn’t appear to have more muscle mass. The table had some bread, cheese, and fruit. The very sight of food caused his stomach to contract as hunger consumed him. After taking a closer look, the youth figured there wasn’t anything wrong with the bread and cheese as it appeared the same as what one may expect on Earth. However, he didn’t recognize the fruit, so he avoided it.

Just as he finished scarfing down food for fear he would be interrupted, the door opened with a creak, and the old lady walked in before she forcibly put a ring on his right middle finger.

“Can you understand me now?” She asked.

“Yes, I can. This ring acts as a translator then?” He said with a stoic expression which implied he was utterly unphased, yet the light hidden in the depths of his eyes betrayed his excitement and wonder.

“Sharp, aren’t you, boy.’ That’s very close but not quite it. It’ doesn’t translate the language, but what you mean. I do not hear what you say, but what you mean in a way I will understand it and vice versa. Tell me, what is on the paper?”

“A bunch of symbols’ I’ve never seen before.”

“I expected as much. It makes sense that it’ won’t affect written documents. I never expected to test out an ancient magical artifact though *ka ka ka*.” The old lady said with a cackle. “All the kingdoms have a shared language now, something like this’ isn’t needed anymore.”

“So this is quite rare then?”

“There is about a half-dozen of them in the archives. More importantly, what are you?”

“Uh… Human last I checked.”

“This is strange. Your Ki is that of a child.”

“Ki? So that is real?”

“Well, you didn’t have any Ki at first, and the guards thought you were dead until they noticed your shallow breathing,” She replied, giving the youth a strange look. “You didn’t think Ki is real?”

“I’m not from this world.”

“Not from this world? How did you get here?”

“I have no idea. The last thing I remember was getting swallowed up by a light in my bedroom then heard a voice before I was face to face with a pretty girl. I assume you know what happened after that.”

“*kakaka* She said you appeared from a bright light out of nowhere, it seems to hold up in more ways than one. Well, boy, do you have a name?”

“I do... Martel.”

“Well Martel, we need to get you out of those clothes and cleaned. You have an audience with the Queen and King, and they are on a strict time table, so we don’t have much time to chat. You should hurry and get cleaned and presentable as we can’t have you looking as you are.”

“Ha ha ha, I second that,” Martel said as he was uncounterable in his filth from sweat.

“Well then follow me the drawn bath with prepared clothes .”

Martel heard the sound of water as he approached the designated room on the first floor. He entered the room but realized the water was in yet a further room. The room he found himself in was a changing room where he found the towels and a pair of prepared clothes; a chevaliers outfit with a frilly white shirt. Martel frowned when he saw the clothing as he imagined he would find it uncomfortable, but could only shrug it off as he didn’t have full control over his current situation. With a slight sigh, he began to disrobe. [This isn’t so bad. I suppose I’ll start afresh and anew. A new name, a new life, a new world.] He thought as he made his way through the door. Upon arriving, the four women dressed as servants who stood near a large bath quickly looked away from embarrassment.

[Well, that makes sense, seeing as I only have a towel over my shoulder.] He thought, his face not betraying his embarrassment. As he felt reacting in such a way would only make the situation worse. [Well, I can only go with the flow.]

...

After being bathed by servants who had only tended to women before, Martel found himself waiting for a short time as the preceding audience was running late. He replied to this news with politeness but inwardly was a little annoyed as they had made a point for him to be on time, but some things were inevitable no matter the society.

With his newfound time, he decided to ask for some basic instructions towards the common courtesy of court before someone arrived to escort him to the castle.

...

The castle was a bit stereotypical as it was made of stone and had four towers at each of the corners connected by the rest of the palace. The sound of armor brought Martel’s attention to the guards that were strictly patrolling the area due to the abnormal amounts of noble guests that would witness the audience. When Martel asked if this was normal, he was a little surprised to find it was both unusual and due to his existence. However, he was a little confused. Why did these people care so much about him? Why was he treated well and not as a criminal? Ushered into the palace, he was unable to come up with answers.

...

Once they had made their way through most of the side of the palace, Martel turned towards the center where he found himself in the court, a large room two stories tall and three wide. It was well illuminated by the stained glass ceiling that allowed in the light, but not the glare of the sun. A long red carpet split the room that separated a large number of nobles who seemed to be further divided by rank most recognizable by their differences in clothing. Some of the women wore masks, and a lesser percentage of the males did as well.

The only sound that permeated the room was the footsteps Martel made as he walked down the thin carpet. The stares of the people around him drilled into him, and he could tell most were scrutinizing him while the remaining few that weren’t were doing so out of curiosity. Even though he was internally a little flustered from all the attention, he made sure to keep a straight face.

He wasn’t foreign to public appearances, and he had met some very influential people on Earth, so he already had some experience about how he should act. Be confident and not arrogant, be respectful but not submissive, and remember that you always feel less confident than you look. As he had no idea as to why they were going through all the formality, he at least wanted to give an excellent first impression. After all, he was meeting with those who would decide his treatment. Thankfully, it was an audience, and not a trial, which was a good sign.

Martel calmly walked down the carpet and subtly took further note of his surroundings. He noticed raised platform over to the side that had a few stands that seemed to be for instruments that implied that the court also doubled as a ballroom, which would also explain the grandiose size of the room. Even though the court had more guests than usual, there was still plenty of room for more.

Eventually, he approached the throne atop a platform raised three steps made of marble. On this platform, two furnished and carved thrones of unequal height. On the higher throne towards his left sat a middle-aged woman in an almost rigid posture. Her fan concealed her mouth, and makeup thinly covered her face. She wore her golden hair like a braided bun as it protruded from her head slightly covered from the front by what appeared to be a half-crown. Her blue dress flowed away from her body, not to diminish her features, but to emphasize parts and left the rest to the imagination.

To her side on the other lower half of her throne was a middle-aged man. His hair was jet black to the point of doubt as to its authenticity. His golden crown almost entirely covered it, though it’s color could be seen by his straight-haired bearded which did not possess even a slightly graying hair. His face bore a single scar which only emphasized his sharp and rugged facial features that hadn’t a trace of emotions. His clothes were simplistic, even in color, yet conveyed his royal status without hindering his mobility. He appeared dressed to adorn armor at any moment furthered by a sheathed sword that rested on the throne next to him.

To the woman’s right, in a wooden throne leveled below her, sat a young man of a similar age to Martel. While he also possessed jet black hair, his face was softer, possibly from youth. He expression carried an air of eagerness and arrogance, but a surprisingly small amount given his position.

To the middle-aged man’s right were two similar wooden thrones where two young women were seated. To his immediate right was the elder one. She wore a beautiful form-fitting dress which showed off her large and wonderfully proportioned assets. Her golden hair flowed past her shoulders behind her back, which hid what hinted to be quite a long length. There was nothing done to her hair of note except that her bangs surrounded her left emerald eye before joining her hair above her red lips contrasted by her youthful skin. These combined gave her a divine look; mature beyond her years while still in the prime of her youth. Unless used together, the words beautiful, alluring, and gorgeous alone could not describe her appearance. Her eyes shone with anticipation, surprise, and wonder at Martel’s approach.

Her monotonous life that pledged her shattered when this strange young man suddenly appeared in her little sister’s room. The very fact that her entire family was present in the room showed how important this could be. Usually, such an instance rarely occurred. However, due to the possibility that this may be the prophesied Hero, she agreed it was only natural to show the fullest respect, lest her entire family could lose face and make a potential enemy of him or strain relationships with other kingdoms which may support him.

The name Martel, which she had never heard before, only furthered her interest as she looked at him. At first glance, she could not note anything remarkable about him. His brown hair was simple; his face looked a bit dull though the neutral facial expression gave him a small air of mystery. The way he walked was with purpose and without fear. It included a hint of pride, but it was far less than some of the other nobles who were near his age. She could see his build was decent, not muscular like a laborer or warrior, not thin and lean like a scholar, and not fat like a merchant. If she were to put a label on him, it would be a well rounded noble; one who was a student of the pen and the sword. Overall, his appearance gave her an excellent first impression.

As Martel approached, he couldn’t help but notice a familiar young lady. The only noticeable difference was that her clothing was changed and her hair was fastened up in a high ponytail before it splayed and flowed beyond. It was visible as her face was held to the side, clearly in protest to his presence.

[It appears my unexpected visit left quite an impression. Well, I could say the same.] Martel couldn’t help but think with an internal chuckle.

After he had approached the appropriate distance, he stopped, placed his left hand on his chest, extended his right to the side, crossed his left leg behind his right, and bowed. After a few seconds, the queen spoke. “Raise your head.” Martel did so obediently before she continued without removing her fan. “It is quite surprising for someone with whom only hours ago, we had no way to communicate with to know our manners.”

Martel responded after a small pause. “Seeing as I was to meet someone as distinguished as your majesty and am from a different culture, I found it imperative to adopt the appropriate manners. I asked what those were as I wish to make as little of a fool of myself as possible.”

Even without removing her fan, the queen’s eyes showed her appreciation. “I must say this was not what I expected.”

“I shall take it as a compliment, your Majesty.”

“As you should, though I would like to get to a more appropriate topic if you do not mind.”

[She seems to be waiting for my approval. Strange, given her position.] Martel thought as a hint of surprise flashed across his face. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Very well, I shall get straight to the point. Are you the Hero?”

Surprise flashed across Martel’s face at the unexpected question. “Forgive my ignorance, but I don’t understand the question.”

The queen looked at Martel with a raised eyebrow. “Over a century ago there was a prophecy of impending doom to our land and that there was one who would come from nowhere and elsewhere. This Hero would be the only person who could stop the coming darkness. Now, seeing as you fit the description I will ask you again, are you the Hero?”

“... I have no prior knowledge of what you speak. As such, I can neither confirm nor deny that I am this so-called Hero. I apologize for my lack of a concise answer.”

The queen remained silent for a time as she deliberated. “Indeed, there is no reason to believe you would be aware, and, as you say, you can not deny it either. Very well, you shall be considered a guest here at least for the time being. Is there anything you would request of me?”

“Should I decide to become or be this so-called Hero, I imagine I would have quite a lot to ask of your majesty. However, for the time being, I will request only an assistant. I believe the most important step for me right now is to gather information. As such, someone who is quite knowledgeable and has access to information or those who have it.”

“Mother.” The elder daughter spoke to gain permission to speak, which the queen nodded to affirm. “I would like to volunteer myself as his assistant.”

The queen seemed surprised and hesitated, but a light flashed behind her eyes. “If it is acceptable to you I will allow it,” She said to Martel.

“It is far beyond my expectations, your Majesty,” Martel replied, clear that the queen’s hesitation was deliberate.

“Very well, unless there is more, both of you are permitted to leave.”

Martel gave a slight nod as more questions would be inappropriate given the public setting.

“Please wait by the throne entrance. I shall be there shortly,” The elder daughter stated. With a nod and a bow, under the continued stairs of guests, Martel left the throne room.