We all stood in the antechamber before the meeting with the King. Dressed in what passed for this world’s formal attire, we waited. I was currently wearing a thigh length, midnight blue, sleeveless gambeson with white buckles along the four fasteners down my front. Smooth, silver chainmail covered my arms along with a pair of dark brown vambraces. I wore a pair of black greaves. At my hip and attached to a black belt was a sheathed sword, a placeholder until Amber finished my sword.

The rest of my class wore similar clothing, all meant to both look professional and functional in case of surprise physical activity.

The chamber we waited was framed by a set of bright, immaculate alabaster walls and the ceiling was held aloft by similarly colored pillars. Banners, of bright and loud colors, hung from the ceiling, detailing various images, ranging from a lion to a phoenix, to a griffin and a collection of multiple mythological and ‘real’ beasts that gave off a tremendous or powerful aura. The room was brightly lit, by both the sunlight from a skylight and torches of golden light, and had no seats: no benches, no chairs, and no railings for us to lean on as we waited.

In front of us, with Mr. Lethe leading us, were a pair of ornate, royal blue doors with silver filigree in the shape of a lion with a couple of round handles.

Dressed in loose-fitting clothes that seems reminiscent of a pirate with chainmail, Mr. Lethe wore a dark-colored tri-horn hat with a long black feather. He looked back to us, looking perfectly comfortable as if today were just another day. “It’s almost time for us to meet the reigning monarch — no funny business. No jokes. We may be their ‘Heroes,’ but doesn’t give us leeway to speak, or act, frankly.” In his left hand, he held what resembled a merger of a medieval lute and a guitar.

“Here’s hoping he has a sense of humor,” Deandria said, her voice betraying her anxiety with a faint quiver. She wore something resembling a mix of cloth and steel melded together into an elegant armored gown. On her back rested a veritable wall of thin steel, curved inwards, and a single bladed ax was attached to her hip.

“If only we were so lucky.” Kacee murmured with sarcasm dripping from her words as she crossed her arms. She wore a set of formfitting black robes with a set of segmented steel armor over it, leaving her legs free to move with full freedom. Her steel ball topped standard was attached to her, collapsed and folded into a more compact form.

“Enough chatter. It’s nearly time.” Rudy retorted, not harshly, but stern. He wore no steel. Instead, he wore a sleeveless leather jerkin and a pair of loose-fitting leather pants. He bared a set of dark brown vambraces over his arms and his feet, leather boots. A leather cloak fell freely from his shoulders, with his hood down. He had his topped quiver and unstrung bow attached to his back. I knew he had a pair of daggers hidden beneath his cloak.

Mr. Lethe nodded to his words and the doors in front began to shift, the faint sound of grinding metal reaching my ears. The doors were slowly pulled open, and we were able to see into the throne room. Pristine white floors greeted as we walked inside, the faint clack of footsteps echoing around us. The high ceiling continued, but a single beam of light seemed to break through the one-way skylight, shining down on a single point in the throne room. On the far-right wall, where a procession of fully-armed and armored knights stood facing us, was a massive effigy of a golden lion, roaring to the sky.

To the left, more knights stood, also facing us, but the wall portrayed an immaculate tapestry that depicted a map. Images of deserts rolled into mountains, that transitioned to broad sloping valleys, before rising once more into mountains, and ending on vast empty plains. The map shifted and changed before my very eyes, showing me countless different types of lands, no doubt representations of the nations that decorated Verum. Seeing that sparked the desire for freedom in my heart as well as bringing forth a sense of wanderlust and curiosity.

Before us, the throne was a high-backed seat, decorated in silver and blue. The position looked to be faintly cushioned, appearing to be a blue velvety texture framed by a throne of pure silver. Atop the back of the chair was a circular ornament, holding a single diamond aloft in the shape of a teardrop.

Sitting on the throne itself, was an older man with a perfectly trimmed silver-grey beard, peppered with black that framed a sharp, angular jaw. His hair was cut short atop his head. The man’s expression was rugged, if not aged, with a stern visage, his mouth, and eyes lined with age. His eyes were a faded silver as if worn by age and worry, but still sharp and intense. His shoulders were broad and wide, again appearing strong despite his physical age. His body seemed to be robust and capable, built for direct action and power. He bared silver armor that gleamed in the beam of golden sunlight, a dark blue cloak flowing from the pauldrons and back. Resting near his left hand was an ornate great-sword, that seemed to radiate an aura of power that sent a very slight shiver down my spine.

This man was the King of Veritas.

Standing to the King’s right was a man not much younger or older than he, also clad in a set of full armor, but lacking a cloak. Cleanly shaven, the man regarded us with a pair of dark auburn eyes, not as allies, but as potential enemies.

Sitting to the King’s left on less ostentatious throne of a dark blue and white, was an older woman with long black hair and soft features, wearing an elaborate blue dress and an oaken, wooden staff at her left hand, a teardrop diamond resting atop it, similar to what I saw Emelina carry two days ago. She seemed to appear kinder, if the faint smile, she had on her face as she studied was any indication. She must be the Queen.

Standing on either side of the Queen’s was Emelina on her right hand, and a younger girl was long black hair, tied into a side plait that rested over her left shoulder. Emelina dressed in a dark blue gown with her right arm clad in a bundle of segmented steel, leaving her hand uncovered. The girl, clad in a set of leathers and armor, a skirt of chainmail falling to knees with a spear attached to her back, stood on the opposite side of the queen. She seemed to be around our age, though a little younger.

Kara and Valeri were nearby to Emelina, similarly dressed in their armor.

Near the King and behind the Knight at his right, stood a young man around our age, in a set of light armor. His bright blonde hair was longer, long enough to fall to his shoulders, but was held up in a ponytail. A cocky smile adorned his face as he seemed to study us with a detached contemplation from his silver eyes.

We approached the monarch of Veritas and fell into a knee, almost in perfect synch, bowing our heads. We said nothing as we waited for the King to speak first, offering us permission to speak in his presence. Silence reigned in the throne room as I felt the King study us, his eyes roaming over my form as if a weight had settled upon my shoulders.

“Emelina, introduce your Heroes.” His rumbling baritone rumbled audibly, bouncing around the massive room.

‘Your Heroes.’

For some reason, his words, the indirect contempt, sent a wave of irritation through me.

“Yes, Father.” Her words were soft, softer than they normally were, almost subdued. The sound of her light steps echoed in the room as she strode forward. When she spoke once more, her voice was strong and unyielding, almost demanding respect. “Heroes, rise as I call out your names. Show those in attendance your true value, as both warriors and symbols.”

“Joseph Blaine.” I pushed myself back up to my full height, squaring my shoulders looking right up to the King. I looked into his eyes and did not break contact as his locked onto mine. I held our gazes and never turned away, despite his casual demanding presence trying to make me buckle. The faintest twitch of his lips was all I caught of his vague acknowledgment.

“Luke Wirth.” Luke rose just as smoothly as I did, clad in a full set of armor, segmented at the joints. His sword rested at his hip, upon which his hand rested on the hilt. His jaw was set stubbornly, but proudly as he held himself with resolve.

“Amber Haddock.” Amber stood and crossed her arms, lifting her chin. She wore a set of light armor, more leather than steel, with a simple one-handed hammer resting at her hip.

“Kacee Fitzgerald.” Kacee straightened out her posture, squaring her shoulders as she faced forward. Her eyes were sharp; she had no doubt caught the King’s contempt as well.

“Rudy Jaeger.” Rudy got to his feet, his expression stoic and aloof. He stared forward, almost uncaringly, arms hanging freely at his sides.

“Deandria Penzig.” Deandria got to both her feet, eyes facing forward and expression stoic. She set her jaw and relaxed her posture.

“Tadashi Abe.” Tadashi was almost ghostlike as he straightened his posture. Flowing white robes covered his body as his shoulder shifted, a hint of steel revealed from an opening in the underarm of his robes.

“Baasima Kanaan.” Baasima rose as though she was always ready to move. Her fluid movements belied only a month of combat training and a single instance of a life-and-death battle. She wore a set of leather and cloth, flowing at the joints, but stiff and protective at her limbs.

“Nailah Imari.” Nailah held herself with a casual aloofness as she rose to a standing position. She attired in a flowing cloak over a set of leather and steel armor, a short staff attached to her hip.

“Guang Xu.” Guang rose calmly, with a cocky smile on his face. He was dressed similarly to Rudy, but his colors were more muted, a careful swirl of energy encompassing his dark leathers.

“Colette Leblanc.” Colette stood with a soft, playful smile, though her eyes were sharp with a hint of anger. She was clad in a full set of plate armor, though a chainmail skirt fell to her knees, parted on her right side,

“Mitsuki Minamoto.” Mitsuki rose stoically, her expression blank as if from marble. She wore simple cloth clothing, with everyday muted colors and no weapons. Her arms were bare and her legs clad in dark tights. A pair of sandals covering her feet.

“Patrick Lethe.” Our teacher rose last, the ends of his clothing fluttering from the motion. He lifted his hat from his head and placed it against his chest.

Emelina smiled ever so lightly as studied us, then she steeled herself and turned to face the King. “Father, I announce to you my chosen Heroes, my Champions. It is from their will and strength, both collective and individual that Veritas shall remain safe and prosperous.”

The King did not respond, merely deciding to study us with searching eyes. “I am Frederick DeVere, the twenty-third reigning monarch of Veritas.” He turned his head, raking his eyes over us. “You all did well, during the attack on the festival.” He nodded at us. “For that, I thank you.”

“Father, the attack. We know who orchestrated it.” Emelina said, her tone careful.

“Who?” He asked her.

“One of the four generals, Jeanne.”

That caused an awkward weight to settle in the throne room. The knights on either side of the room shifted from foot to foot but stopped at the stern regard from the man at Richard’s hand. The woman sitting next to him looked to Emelina in concern. “The Black Dragon, so close to the castle?” She didn’t seem afraid for herself, but more for the princess.

“From the description given to me by those who confronted her, I believe so, Mother.”

Before the Queen could reply, the young man standing by the King snorted. “You ‘believe so,’ Emelina? You’d bring this to Father’s attention on pure conjecture? You reach too far, Sister.” He regarded Emelina with exasperation, shaking his head at her.

“It is no ‘simple conjecture,’ Rex.” Emelina’s tone was frosty, her expression blank. “The observations came from not only the Heroes, but from witness statements by the civilians who were nearby. Animals from here to several leagues away were noted to react with terror, cattle stampeding out of their pens, birds all flying away from the capital, horse-drawn carriages broke apart from the panic. The very air itself was thick with the haze of her rumored brutality and poisonous aura.”

“All of that and the statement of your precious Heroes is all you feel you need, isn’t it, Sister?” Rex sneered at her, arms crossed as he looked at her from his slightly elevated perch.

“It is all I need, little brother.” Her expression never shifted, though there was a triumphant note in her tone.

Rex frowned and glared at her, but wasn’t able to react as an amused giggle pulled his attention. The young girl standing next to Queen was regarding them a nostalgic expression, though she said nothing else.

“Enough.” Frederick’s stern call silenced them both, his eyes flinty as they rolled from sister to brother. “All these years and you both still act like children. Or have you both forgotten that you stand in front of guests?” The two of them looked away from the King, red-cheeked and abashed by the chastisement. He exhaled through his nose and looked to us. “Which among you led this defense of my people?”

There was a moment of indecision amongst us, but I soon felt the eyes of those who fought land on me. Exasperation filled me, though I kept my expression masked, as I took a single echoing step forward. “To say I ‘led’ my friends is an exaggeration, Your Majesty.” I started, my voice controlled, firm and polite. “I simply saw a moment of chaos and saw fit to try and head it off before it caused irreparable damage.”

“What would you call irreparable damage, Joseph Blaine?” He stated my name with a natural authority that chafed at something within me.

“Injuries inflicted upon those who are unable to defend themselves.”

“You defeated your opponents. Rather skillfully, if what my daughter and her knights informed me was correct. Do you feel like you succeeded?”

“No,” I answered him succinctly, a faint tightness in my chest loosening from the pseudo-confession. My words caused a few of my classmates to look at me in shock, even as I kept my attention focused on the King.

Frederick just arched a single brow. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Someone died that day. Someone who didn’t deserve death lost everything that day.” I moved my hands behind my back; my left hand clenched tight enough for the knuckles to strain, to keep my frustration off my face. “I was unable to protect her, so I failed, even as I stood triumphant over a dead man.”

The King hummed as he studied me, his eyes searching for something. Even as he did that, I could feel the penetrating gazes of my friends, who were surprised by my words. “Interesting words. Not many would feel the same, considering whom you faced before that self-perceived failure.”

“Her presence, this ‘Jeanne,’ was a nonentity the moment she fled the scene.” I rebutted. “With her gone, it became my duty to safely secure the wellbeing of those unable to fight or flee.”

A mysterious look crossed the King’s face as he studied me, his eyes gaining a curious light in them.

“A ‘nonentity’?” The man standing next to the King stated evenly. I turned my attention to him, meeting his eyes. “You would call a woman who fought under the original Demon Lord countless generations ago a ‘nonentity’?”

“She showed no desire to inflict harm. Despite her apparent ‘cruelty,’ Jeanne only seemed to want to ‘test’ my friends and me. In not a single instant she did raise her hands, only acting through intermediaries.”

“What of the moment she lost her temper? Dragons are notorious for their rage.”

I managed not to roll my eyes at his obvious statement. “Ill-thought words were spoken. Words that sparked Jeanne’s lost composure.” I shrugged, showing an impassive countenance. “She seemed to lose interest in their words when I showed I wasn’t as affected.”

“Hmm.” The knight mused as he narrowed his eyes at me.

“Reinhardt, enough.” The Queen spoke up; her voice was gentle but stern. “Young Joseph has given his observation. There is no need to interrogate the poor boy.”

Reinhardt inclined his head to the Queen, though his eyes never left me. “Of course, Queen Regina.”

“Father.” Rex suddenly spoke up, bringing attention to himself. His Father grunted and turned his gaze to the boy. “I wish to challenge him to a duel, the Hero who stared down the Black Dragon.”

That caused a stifling silence to settle upon the atmosphere. Disbelief filled me as the King turned his head to face his son. Rex looked a combination of eager and obedient to the approval of his father. Reinhardt looked to him, brows rising in disbelief.

Regina looked surprised as she held a hand in front of her face. Emelina resembled a cross between shocked and enraged as she appeared to be trying and failing to keep her stoic mien. The girl next to the Queen seemed to be holding back laughter as she turned away from the group, facing the back wall.

“He stands before you, Rex. Ask him yourself.” Frederick half-demanded him, his tone full of a contained exasperation and ridiculous curiosity.

Rex’s expression turned rebellious, before he collected himself and looked towards me, his eyes filled with contempt. “Joseph Blaine, I, Rex DeVere, challenge you to a duel.”

“Why?” I asked in place of a straight answer. Once again, a stifling silence settled in the throne room. Except, instead of staring at the prince in disbelief, they regarded me with shocked incredulity. I was tired of this entire meeting the moment the King insulted me with his casual contempt. The cross-examination questioning my belief from earlier only exacerbated my frustration.

Rex blinked, before he scrunched his nose, appearing insulted by my retort. “Why should I answer to you, Hero? I am the second Prince of Veritas!”

I maintained my professional detachment, looking to him as if he was no one important. If anything, that only made him angrier. “You want to duel me, Your Highness,” I answered him, speaking as if I were talking to a particularly slow child. “I believe it’s common courtesy to offer your reasoning when it comes to a duel. Especially between Royalty and vassal of the Monarchy.”

The prince scowled as he glared at me as if hoping I spontaneously combusted. Still, he offered no answer.

Silence once again settled upon the area, no doubt uncomfortable for some, but I honestly didn’t care. I refused to play the games of a spoiled brat.

“I believe His Highness wishes to test himself against you and your already famous skills, Sir Joseph,” Reinhardt explained, his eyes never leaving me, gaze inscrutable. I arched a single brow, causing him to crack a smile. It was not a kind one. “An Affinity that grants you quick master class skill with any weapon you wield. Such an ability is only one found in stories about legendary warriors rising from myth. Is it so difficult to understand that one would wish to challenge you upon hearing that?” It went without saying that I could see a similar desire in his eyes that I could see in Rex’s.

Great, the King’s Knight wants to try and fight me too.

“I see.” I took in his explanation even as I noticed Rex scoff and look away, crossing his arms. I closed my eyes and turned my head down as if thinking about it. Then I exhaled and crossed my arms. “No.” I opened my eyes and met a suspicious glare from the prince.

“No?! You’d refuse a direct challenge? In the presence of not only Veritas’ greatest Knight but also the King!?” I was honestly surprised that Rex wasn’t foaming at the mouth, considering he discarded all sense of dignity. Regina was glaring death at her son, her cheeks red and jaw set.

“I have nothing to gain and nothing to lose,” I said to him, my tone perfectly even, conversational even. “My comrades and I were asked to come here so that we would learn where we’re going to go next, not to fight unnecessary battles.” At that, I very clearly turned my body to face towards the King and Queen. “Your Majesty, you asked for us?”

Going by what I could see in his eyes, Frederick seemed to find my interaction with his son amusing, even as his expression remained stoic. As Rex was about to retort, if his reddening cheeks were any indication, the King lifted a hand. Reinhardt placed a heavy hand on the Prince’s shoulder. “Reinhardt, take Rex to the training fields. He seems to have an excess of energy to burn.”

“At once, Your Majesty.” He bowed at the waist, before turning and walking away, an unmoving hand holding Rex’s shoulder and guiding him to the back of the throne room.

Rex continued to glare impotently at me, fuming as he swiftly began to regain his composure. His gaze flickered to his father, and his shoulders faltered for a second, eyes softening as hurt flashed across his features. He schooled his expression once more, glared at me, then turned and followed Reinhardt.

When the pair disappeared into a door behind the throne, I heard the King exhale audibly. “Joseph Blaine, you play a dangerous game. You do know that, correct?”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I started a long time ago.”

The King merely let out a small laugh, his eyes moving to Emelina, who was looking away, as if unable to meet our eyes. Then he nodded, “Yes. There is a reason I asked for Emelina to bring you all here.” He straightened his posture and rolled his heavy gaze over each of us, as it measuring our worth at a glance. “With Jeanne’s now known awakening, we have reason to believe that the remaining three are also awake.”

“Who are they?” Luke asked him and saw him step up next to me, looking to the King.

Frederick stared him as if testing him. “The Four Generals are the Bearer of the Hoard, the Dragon; the Mistress of the Night, the Vampire; the Calamity of the Soul, the Kitsune; and the Chooser of the Slain, the Valkyrie. Jeanne, Mina, Kaede, and Eir.”

Despite the gravity of the situation; despite the serious in which the King imparted that information; despite the severe regard the Queen held at her husband’s words, I couldn’t help the tired exasperation that filled me at his words. This…all of this was necessary material to know for my future survival on Verum, but I couldn’t but think that this was all some elaborate prank by murderous LARPers on LSD that was holding my class hostage for their sick amusement. It just all felt like it belonged in some cheesy, fantasy novel.

“We still do not yet know the origins of the four generals, but we do know that the original Demon Lord personally found and drew them into his army. Their prowess stands above even the greatest of our number, even after so many generations have passed.” He gestured to us. “You’ve all witnessed Jeanne’s casual cruelty, yet are still ignorant of her real strength. Disregarding her clear danger as a Dragon, as a practitioner of the arcane arts, there are none that stand as her equal. Human armies are mere fodder in the face of her wrath.

“Mina herself carried similar skill as Jeanne but was more known for her ability to create and command an eternal and undying horde of undead. It is a swarm that is hers to control, as well as the one who stands above her. None could match her combat, for her ability to control the battlefield was unmatched. To wage war against she who could endlessly raise an army would be the height of folly.

“Kaede is a woman who knows best how the human mind works. She could make you turn on your closest friend and make it seem like you always intended it. Her forces, other creatures like her, were her greatest weapons, her infiltrators. Information was her lifeblood, and she could steal it from anyone and everyone. Nothing could hide from her, and all knowledge was hers to take.

“Eir was a true god of war if there ever was one. She lived and breathed the sword. Stories have told that the moment she graced the frontline with her presence, the battle was as good as done. There were none who could so much as scrape her armor, though there were countless attempts. There was one understand, between both sides, that no one stood in Eir’s path, else you deserve your inevitable end, for courting death in such a way.”

We listened to the King’s words, giving them the attention, they deserved. It felt more theatric then informative, but it told me the significant bits.

Jeanne, the Dragon, is the magical artillery. What she blasts, dies.

Mina, the Vampire, creates an undying army. What she battles, is overrun.

Kaede, the Kitsune, is the master of espionage. What secrets you have, she already knows.

Eir, the Valkyrie, is an unstoppable warrior. What she fights, loses.

It all sounds simple enough.

The King remained silent as he allowed us to digest what we learned. I lowered my gaze to the ground as I let the info ruminate. After a moment, I looked to the side. Luke was pale when he met my gaze, but resolute. I examined the rest of my friends and saw they were a mixture of afraid, determined and appearing constipated. However, when they met my eyes, they merely nodded. There was no hesitation, no regret. Each of us was ready to move forward despite our fears.

We knew our foes, or at least the most significant at the moment, and realized that we could not stumble, we could not falter. The only direction to go was forward — no looking back, always onward.

Never retreating, only advancing.

I looked back to the King and knew that I spoke for everyone when I replied.

“And? What’s next?”