Nighttime, a few minutes before the ceremony.
"Aah, the stars in the sky look so… beautiful."
He sat with his back resting against the giant tree and gazed up. Among the sparkling specks swirled this world's green and gold galaxy.
"Haaah. I dislike that stargazing is a thing of the past because of orange sodium streetlights."
Pinching his chin, he frowned. "Man, so many things are happening. The nighttime ceremony, Aelindor's wedding and an invitation at Percival's manor. It's crazy." He shook his head in disbelief.
After a pause, he looked back at the stars. "I really am this world's hero, huh. I just— Ugh! How does that help me, man! I'm still stuck here, parentless and my world's friends… less. This mask I'm wearing—how long will I wear it, doing damage to my self? When will I rip it off…?"
His hand met his forehead. "Ahahaha. How long will I play a character in a story? How!? W-When will I be myself? My true self yearns for what the mask is getting…"
"HAHAHA! It hurts so much that I can't. I can't even talk to anybody about it, b-because of the DAMN MENTAL LOCK!"
THUD!
He punched the ground beside him, cratering it.
"When do I stop this torture—gnawing at my mind like termites in wood. It can't go on like this… It just can't." He buried his head in his hands.
"Haaah."
His back met the bark again, dusting the dirt off his gauntlet.
"…Alright. Next time I'm on the dragon… I will confess about my identity."
He closed his eyes. "Failure is not an option. Why?" He opened them, his gaze painted with seriousness and earnestness. "Death will be my punishment."
He let out a long, silent whistle. "I deserve it. If I can't change myself here, what good will I do if I return?"
"Heh. Become a fucking savior of the five islands and still can't talk to his parents! Tch! What a fucking disaster!"
He drowned himself in his hands. "If only… if only there was someone I could pour my heart out to. Heh."
Another scoff escaped him, releasing his face. "In everything here, I… I'm just a third wheel, everybody getting their maidens, while me… alone in… every single way…"
Silence fell, filled with the chorus of the forest, the distant howl of a wolf, and the hoot of an owl.
Then.
WHOOSH!
The nape of his neck burned suddenly. He sighed, standing up with a sad smile on his face.
"I'm guessing… the nighttime ceremony—it's about to begin."
A familiar female voice replied from behind the tree. "Yes."
He walked around the tree, seeing the shadow of the pig-tailed maid—her eyes closed, one hand gripping the dagger beneath her wrist.
"Elite guards will be escorting you to the plaza, where the reward will be bestowed."
The plaza, huh. The fountain is a nice place to be given a reward.
"Speaking of rewards…" He met her gaze. "I uh, wanted to thank you—you and your… sister? Cousin? You've been taking good care of me, and I appreciate it."
He bowed slightly. "I will repay you one day, I swear it."
His perception revealed bafflement for a millisecond. He turned around, looking at the stone pavement.
"Well, I guess I better be going."
He left her where she stood, heading for the kingdom's entrance archway.
"How then will you repay us, savior? When we don't require remuneration."
She turned on her heel and with a whoosh, disappeared in the forest's shadow.
* * *
HOLY SHIT!
His jaw dropped at the sight of the two rows of guards on either side of the entrance archway. The wall of guards extended deep into the kingdom. Elven citizens peeked behind the wall, trying to see their hero. Before the archway, his escort of ten elite guards, five on either side, and the commander stood before the entrance.
"The ceremony doth await thy presence. Art thou prepared?"
He gave a silent nod.
"Well said. Come hither, and take thy stand in the midst, by the third warder."
Following the request, he stood at middle, by the third guard in the front row.
"RAISE YE YOUR ARMS ALOFT!"
THUD!
He slammed the butt of his spear. The elite guards with their spears followed by the row of normal guards with their swords, raised their weapons in salute, one after another, creating a satisfying wave.
"FOR THE HERO OF SYLVIAN ENCLAVE!"
Ooo, I'm getting chills, bro. Look how far the guards go.
SLAM!
"MEN! TAKE YE THE WALL FORMATION! NONE SHALL BREAK OUR DEFENSE!"
The elite guards yelled in unison, their fists on their chest.
"SIRE!"
Masterfully, Oswald and the commander were enclosed in a square of elite guards, an opening left between them by their long shields. His entourage began their walk through the kingdom.
He was met with cheers and whistles that intensified as he passed.
Just smile and wave, nothing else.
A few minutes into the cheery, adrenaline-filling atmosphere.
Huh? Is that…?
In the sea of elves, with squinted eyes, he spotted the relatives of the kidnapped women he'd saved.
"Hey!" He waved, walking at the left edge of his protection. Behind the wall of guards, was an old elf—a father—an elven sister holding a little girl (the returned elder daughter), a burly elven husband, and a dog-eared woman—a friend.
"How are you all doing?" His gaze shifted between them. "A-And how are they doing?"
The old elf gave a nod. "We fareth well enough. As for mine own daughter… She hath not stirr'd forth from the house since her homecoming; the dread of being reft away doth hang ever o'er her like a shadow most grievous."
The burly husband dipped his head. "Aye, mine own wife is likewise, though she would have me ever at her side, not a moment passing save in mine own presence."
Damn, it's that traumatic?
"Wait, if you're here, what about your wife?" I hope she's not shaking in fear all alone.
"Fret thee not; she lieth in deep slumber. A sound sleeper is she, and shall not wake till the morn. I came but to behold thee, and thereafter to hie me home."
"Then don't hold yourself any longer. One last thing before I continue my walk ahead…"
He looked at everybody. "Tell her… tell her that no matter how difficult a-and trying times you spent with those men, the absolute horrid things they did to you… You—I— Haaah. I don't know if I should be saying this when I, myself, haven't been kidnapped… but… what I do share is a difficult situation with the mind, as I am also having difficulty overcoming it. So… start small, then slowly expand. I want to elaborate but I shouldn't keep the ceremony at a halt. See you."
He left them, waving and they all waved back. The last thing he saw was the little elf girl waving back at him.
Ah, man. It feels great. I… I really hope the advice sticks. It sounded great in my head, anyway. I… should follow it too.
The cheers of the crowd swelled again as his escort resumed its march toward the glowing plaza.
* * *
He took many deep breaths.
I see the plaza and the fountain. Leave your doom and gloom behind, man, not the occasion.
One final deep breath.
"Alright, I'm ready."
Nearing the plaza, his protection at the front moved aside, opening up to a long green carpet with golden patterning. The prince and princess stood at the end. In front of them, lined on either side, elven nobles—both men and women—stood before him, their fancy and glamorous clothing lit by the multi-colored flamed lanterns strung above him.
A hush fell over the assembled nobility, all eyes turning to him—a mix of curiosity, reverence, and the sharp appraisal of those used to judging worth at a glance.
Let's do this.
He walked forward, offering a firm handshake and a few genuine—if slightly rushed—words of greeting to each noble in the line.
"Hey, nice to meet you! Oh, what a beautiful dress, m'lady! Hey, that's a great suit right there—thanks for the inspiration."
He shook their hands until finally, he stood before Their Highnesses, the fountain behind them spewing water from a magical rock.
He knelt before them.
Oh boy, it's about to begin. Good luck, me.
The princess looked at the crowd.
"O my beloved people! Full five centuries hath fled since last the rite of heroes was observ'd. Yet lo, in this present hour, a new champion hath arisen! With valour unfeigned he hath deliver'd not myself alone, but likewise the maidens long in bondage, vanish'd from our sight this twelvemonth past. By his counsel in the hour of invasion was wrought a mighty reversal, for he smote the very root of our bane, the accursed parasites. Therefore, my people, doth not such deed deserve rich guerdon for the Saviour? What say ye?"
The crowd erupted.
"AYE! HUZZAH!"
Heh, I… It seems I am accepted.
"As youthful sovereigns of this our castle, we do bestow upon thee, O valiant saviour, the noble style and dignity of Hero of Sylvia. And this title shall be heralded abroad, known both far and wide."
Hero of… Sylvia. That's kinda has a nice ring to it.
"Moreover, a gift do we present, drawn forth from the very treasury of this our realm." She gestured behind him. "And verily, we remain thine eternally beholden."
He heard metallic footsteps behind him, followed by a heavy thud on the carpet.
Huh? HOLY SHIT!
He turned his head while kneeling, the sight of the reward made him fall backwards onto his rear.
He made no effort to hide his awe at the full white armor of his size, with blue edgings and beautiful hand-painted flower patterns in blue on the breastplate and spaulder. The breathtaking sight left him sitting comfortably on the carpet, just admiring it.
I-I can't believe this… This is mine!
With a gauntleted hand extended, he slowly stood and walked toward the armor.
"This is amazing… It's like I'm dreaming."
Not knowing what to do next, other than possessing the desire to wear the armor, he turned around, to Their Highnesses.
"Umm… What do I do now?"
The prince gestured at the armor. "Thou shalt now put on thy reward, that all may behold it." He glanced behind him. "Help him, wilt thou?"
After he said that, the maid walked out from behind His Highness.
WHAT THE F— SHE WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME?!
She walked up to him, her hand ever present on the dagger under her wrist.
"I shall help you switch your armor."
"Oh, uh, sure."
The maid proceeded to help in replacing his armor with his reward, Oswald helped with the easier parts of the armor while the rest was handled by her. Finally, he donned the new armor entirely, his old armor now on the stand where the reward had been displayed.
Shortly after wearing the armor, the blue floral painting started to glow cyan. A faint, pleasant hum resonated from the metal for a moment.
"W-What's happening?"
The glow receded, returning to the original blue color.
The prince smiled. "The armour shineth forth, laying bare the true intents of him that weareth it; and true intents, in sooth, thou dost indeed possess. Come forth, and kneel."
O-Okay.
He came forth and knelt. The maid handed two ceremonial swords to the Highnesses, their hilts wooden, the pommel in the shape of king and queen chess pieces. Both unsheathed the ceremonial swords and placed them on each of his shoulders.
"Upon this isle, both now and hereafter, thou art proclaimed Hero of Sylvia!"
The crowd erupted around him, flowers of the Sylvian Enclave island thrown around him, some landing in front of him.
Ooo, a pretty flower.
The prince raised his palm high, the crowd silenced.
"Now shall music fill thine ears, such as hath not been heard these five hundred years. Minstrels!"
Guards holding instruments like a giant violin, over the shoulder trombone, and other instruments, came forth.
"Begin!"
The music played, ceremonious and upbeat, throughout the night. Oswald sat at the fountain by Their Highnesses as the nobles and crowd danced around him.
* * *
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