Chapter Two: Traitor

“Welcome Heroes! Welcome! I do hope you all slept well!” The man was met with quiet groans and bleak, empty stares from the weary and baggy eyes of the heroes. Sleep had proven to be an uncommon task, their minds preoccupied with the worrying thoughts that restlessly cycled through them. The man in question, was wrapped in a long black and gold cloak, with a small imprint of a golden rose marking his line of work. Spiraling around his neck was a long, gray beard, contrasting to his bright blue eyes and his bald head.

His rough, callused hands held an ornate staff, the end managing to cradle a large, glimmering blue crystal, which could barely fit in the size of Michael’s palm. The light it gave off felt unnatural, as if it was not meant to be there, despite being plain to see.

Interrupting Michael’s wandering thoughts, the man moved on, not waiting for a response from the heroes. Instead, he began to pace the room, his feet kicking up small piles of dust as he moved from one edge to the other, beginning to talk in a lecturing manner.

“Heroes, as I’m sure you know well, you have been summoned to our world.” He spoke quickly and without pause, his words echoing across the tower. “At this moment, there is only two choices for you lot, either work under the service of His Majesty, or leave the castle and brave the dangers of the world on your own.” He said this quite matter-of-factly, his face unhesitant. “You will not receive support from our Lord if you choose to leave, but if you labor under his rule, he will supply you with riches and power beyond your furthest desires.”

Diamonds, Rubies, Gold, Money, women, power! Whatever you wish, within reason, will be given to you through the direct orders of His Majesty, and of course we will train you in the arts of magic and sorcery! We will teach you how to defend yourself, and of course how to survive in this cruel world.” He thumped the ground with his staff, and the beautiful gem began to hover in the air, making its way towards the center of the room, before resting in place.

The heroes stared at the crystal in awe, their eyes glazed over in excitement as the crystal moved. They rushed up to the crystal, not quite daring enough to touch it, but getting close, nonetheless. “Now now children, calm down for me. I’m going to teach you all how to do this one day, but first, you must make your decision. You must decide your future for yourself!” He walked to the door, his cane supporting his weight as he moved. “I will give you five minutes to decide, please be prepared to relay your answer to me.” He announced as the door creaked shut, leaving the conflicted heroes to their thoughts.

Five minutes later, the door reopened, the old man stepping through the door, but he was surprisingly accompanied by the King, his red regal robes dragging across the dusty floor as he proudly stepped in. “Heroes,” The King started. “Any who wish to work under me, stand to my right, and any who wish to leave must stand to my left. This is your final decision, so choose wisely.” Without any more to add, the King stood in the center of the room, waiting for their decision.

“It’s not as if we had a choice anyways” Michael thought to himself. There was no way they’d be able to survive, or at least attempt to survive in a foreign country without any money, weapons, or connections. The only real option was to stay put and see how things play out from there, and knowing that, he moved to the King’s right, followed by every hero. They all understood the stakes here. They all came to terms with their grief and their anger last night, and now was the time to decide their move.

“Well then, it appears your decision is unanimous! Perfect!” He laughed a little, but his face quickly grew dark, his brows creasing. “There is one problem, however…” He turned around to the old man, gesturing towards the heroes. “Neville, please form their cores for them! We will discuss our issue after that.”

The man bowed his rather shiny head in acceptance before proceeding to urge the heroes closer. “Now, heroes, I will open something called a magic core, one that determines your path in magic. Your variety of core will determine your aspect of magic, as well as the future courses we prepare for you.” He gestured to himself, his voice similar to that of a scholar, perhaps a kind teacher. “For example, my core is a bright turquoise, signifying my attunement with wind magic!”

“Now, do not be discouraged if your core is not to your choosing. Every person can use all forms of magic, but their core empowers their attuned magic, in sense, making it much stronger than the rest! If you put in the hard work and effort, however, you will be able to use magic just as well as your own. It all depends on you, heroes.”

“How do we see our core?” Ken, Michael’s close friend and classmate, spoke up, asking the question every hero was thinking. Without skipping a beat, the old man crisply replied: “Your forming will be rather forceful, since you do not currently have access to a core to view. Once I open it, and you visit your Elemental Tree, you will be able to look within yourself to see your core.”

Seeing their eyes squint with confusion when he talked about the “Elemental Tree,” he began to explain. “You will be visited by your attuned tree, the ones who harness magic and gift it to our realm. The trees will not only gift you’re a core, but an ability to help you along your way.”

The man grunted and hit the floor with his staff. “In exchange for magic, the trees will give you a task, a quest if you will. It can be as easy as getting a loaf of bread from the next town, but it can also be extremely deadly. Do not worry! These tasks are always manageable, and we will ensure your training prepares you for your quest.”

“The oracle has given us a… startling announcement, but we will talk about that after your cores are opened. Be warned, you might feel a bit sick.” He said this rather abruptly, his endless train of talking quickly coming to a stop as he raised his staff, releasing a white cloud into the room. Michael panicked as he started to feel drowsy, hearing the thumps of bodies falling as he quickly followed suit, his consciousness fading.

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Michael awoke in darkness, his surroundings pitch black, yet the room still felt brightened by something. He looked behind him, towards the source of the light, and saw a tree that seemed rather… dead. It had fallen on its side, roots showing above the ground, its limbs mangled and broken.

“Greetings, hero from another world. Welcome to my domain.” A small, childlike voice racked through Michael’s brain, as if it was inserted into his mind by force. “What the- who are you?” Michael quickly asked aloud, seeing a bright glow coming from the dead remains of the tree. “My name is Mortis, Elemental Tree of Hellfire! Would you mind freeing me? My growth seems to be hindered by the corpse of my predecessor.”

Michael was confused at that, moving forward to the dead tree to see a tiny sapling growing between the dead roots of the tree. He grabbed the base of the tree and pushed with all his might, grunting as it ever so slightly shifted, freeing the tiny sapling which seemed to pulse with a fiery blaze, almost seeming happy.

“Well done, Michael. Now, you’ve come to form your core, have you not? I must explain a few things beforehand, explain your abilities, the sort. Let’s see, let’s see… Ah yes! Class, ability, core, in that order. Alright then, allow me to explain your class to you.”

“I must warn you before I start, however.” Michael’s brows furrowed at that, the tone in the tree’s voice grim. “You are truly in a bad spot, Michael. Hell cores are only given to heroes such as yourself, but if a hero is discovered to have a hell core, they are to be executed on sight.” “What.. What are you trying to say to me?” Michael stuttered, fear slowly seeping into his brain.

“Simply put, if someone discovers your hell core, you’re as good as dead.”