***

An affinity for men and women alike,

a fate strung together with emotions and suchlike,

they are part of the Sin-Bearer, the Hero Summoner,

the burdened sacrifice who will never be remembered.

- Anonymous

***

“A great disaster shall befall upon us.”

Beard as white and clean as his robes, a middle-aged man steps forward, raising his hands and stretching them, looking up at the ceiling of the cathedral. Behind him, an entourage consisting of other men in similar-looking robes and a squadron of armoured knights. The entourage is unmoving, only looking at the man as he continues his speech.

“The calamity has already begun,” he continues, “We must hasten the Summoning. Else, we’d find ourselves in the middle of a great, unforgiving war. We’ll stain our hands with blood again.”

There is silence except for the echo of his voice within the cathedral. His booming voice seems to shake the knights. A few them even feel their gauntlets and greaves vibrating after each sentence. One of the knights takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Prepare the sacrifice.”

There is no word but action: one of the knights raises his hand, flicking his wrist to gesture for the knights behind him to keep clear. The white-robed men give way as well, watching a man clad in cold steel tugging at a rope, which leads to a loop binding together the arms of a young girl.

“What are you doing to me?” The young girl screams. “Let me go! Let me go!”

Her pleas fall on deaf ears as the knight forcefully hoists her in front of him, throwing the girl a few steps before the leader.

“You will not die in vain,” the middle-aged man says, “Let me tell you this: you’re going to be a great person. For our Empire—“

“Fuck off!” The girl yells. “What are you doing? Let me go this instant! I’ll have you know that I am the 4th Princess of Dremlin. You can’t do this to a foreigner—and a noble, no less!”

“Your identity is what makes you valuable to us,” he replies. He gestures at the white-robed men.

“Get ready,” he adds, “You will soon join the ranks of great legendary warriors.”

“To hell with that!” She screams again. She tries to stand, but her bound hands are not able to help with balancing her. She tries to push herself with her knees, but her mind seems to not cooperate, as if bewitched.

“Please,” she says, tears rolling down her cheek. “Please. Don’t do this. I know what this is all about. I’m not suitable. Please find someone else. Please.”

The man gives a slight smile. “You’re the most compatible person out of everyone—hell, I’d say you’re more than compatible. You could almost become the Summoning itself. Perhaps, after this, you’d be the one bringing our great esteemed warriors.”

“Dremlin will not forgive you for this,” she says, her eyes full of hatred and anger. “My father will personally see to your demise.”

“Empty threats from an illegitimate princess do not work on me,” he retorts, “Sadly, you’re still to hung up over that tinkle of blue blood you have in you.”

He walks up to the young girl and grabs her by the collar.

“I’ll liberate you right now.”

With that, he spins around, throwing the girl into the middle of a white magic circle. The incantations and inscriptions on the circle glimmer slightly, reacting to the girl. The girl coughs, spitting out blood. She glares at the man, gnashing her teeth.

“Esteemed Elder,” one of the white-robed men begins, “Pardon my impudence and ignorance, but how are we going to solve the problem after she has been used for the Summon? Did you give instructions?”

“You have no need to worry, my dear Apostle,” he replies, “Dremlin will say nothing about this—and even if they do, they’ll be dead before they can even begin forming a sentence.”

The girl tries to get up once more, but the magic circle seems to enhance the gravity within it. The girl falls on her behind. She tries to stand again but to no avail. She then scooches in front using her knee, getting close to the border of the magic circle.

“What did you do to my parents?”

“Huh?”

“You monster! You fucking monster! I hope you die a terrible death, you fucking freak!”

The Apostles look visibly displeased. Some of the knights draw out their swords but the man merely gestures at them. With that, they sheathed their blades.

“Your words are nothing but words,” he says, “Finmul, the young Princess of Gremlin, I hereby grant you the honour to be part of the Summon. I bestow upon you the right to venture to the next world and to bring back the heroes that Elgia really needs.”

“I reject!”

“You have no other choice.”

The girl screams as she feels her skin tingling. A hot flame erupts from the inscriptions, engulfing her in flames. Her screams seem to grow softer as the flame continues to burn. The flames reach up to the cathedral ceiling, forming a pillar of fire that only burns the girl in the magic circle.

After a while, a pile of ash appears in the middle of the circle.

“The summoning may begin,” he continues. He turns around to address his entourage.

“I hereby declare the new era of Elgia and an even newer era for humanity! This, is our path to salvation.”

He turns back to face the magic circle. He closes his eyes, muttering.

“I summon thee, warriors of the other world, heroes of this world! Come forth, and lend us your hand!”

A small white orb of wisps appears in the air, hovering over the center of the magic circle. It starts to expand, slowly growing in size and even starting to spin.

“Here comes, the first.”