Reborn: Age of Heroes

Five - War Chief

Like the prophet in his stories, this old man is clearly out of his mind, I thought as I stared at Amias. His deep azure eyes looked like pits of infinite blue waters, calm and unmoving.

“You do not believe me,” he said as he began to turn away.

“No,” I replied. “Of course, I don’t believe you. You clearly are mad. There is no way on Earth that I am one of what you call reborn warriors. I am not a warrior! I am just the son of a baker. In fact, I died killing a giant scorpion monster with a rolling pin! I don’t know how to use a sword or any weapon. I am not your warrior, Amias.”

Of all the things he could say or do, Amias chose to laugh. “There,” he said as he started forward. “You said it yourself. You killed a demon with just a tool to make bread. That makes you a warrior, Samuel. A hero.”

“No, no, no,” I said as I followed his steps. “You don’t understand, Amias. I was just defending my parents. The hideous demon was about to attack my mother and father, and I just stepped in to stop it. I was just lucky that I got a chance to stab it in the eye!”

“Isn’t that what heroes do, Samuel?” he asked. “Saving their loved ones? Saving people? The Divine Quest is no different. You will wield the Heavenly armaments to save more people. To save humanity.”

Despite everything, I let out a small chuckle. “This is frustrating,” I said. “You are taking what I’m saying the wrong way! Look, Amias. I am not a fighter. I don't know anything about killing demons! Much less killing the King of this Hell! You should have seen me scream like a terrorized little child and piss myself when the scorpion monster attacked our home!”

“You will learn, Samuel. You will learn,” he replied. Amias took a sharp turn as there was a fork on the path. “This way, child,” he said.

I knew I did not want to follow Amias, but I had no choice. He was company, and I did not wish to be left alone. With a sigh, I trailed after the old man. A long quietude ensued as I kept silent during our walk. More glowing moss gleamed on the rocky walls as we walked deeper into the cave. I gazed with an open mouth at the spectacle. Seeing the brilliant colors of the luminous lichens, it was easy to forget that we were inside the Second Ring of Hell.

There must be another way out of this realm, I thought as I leaped over a huge rock on our path. One that does not involve fighting demons or hunting the King of Hell. I took a lungful of air and placed my hand over my chest. My heart was pounding like a war song between my lungs. We weren’t running, but my breathing was fast and shallow. I shifted my gaze back to Amias. Whatever happens, I am not joining this mad man’s cause.

“We’re here,” announced Amias as he stood in front of a dead end. No matter where I swept my gaze, I could not see anything aside from a rock wall with a curtain of glowing moss.

“Where?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at Amias. “I don’t see the other ‘warriors’ you were talking about. This is a dead-end. No one’s here.”

Amias smiled at me over his shoulder. He looked back at the cave wall in front of him. He raised the walking cane he was holding and tapped its handle against the rocks three times. Sharp, knocking noises echoed through the confines of the cavern.

“What?” I asked after a moment of stillness. “Nothing’s happening.”

“Patience, Samuel,” he said. “Patience.”

I was about to open my mouth and complain about yet another of his crazy antics, but then I heard a low, grinding noise. My head perked up as the wall in front of us moved. I felt the ground shake a little from the movement of the rocks. After a few breaths, the wall slid to the side, and the curtain of moss parted open, revealing a hollow space beyond.

A big brutish man with sparse clothing stood inside the chamber-like formation. He was only wearing what looked like a loincloth tied around his waist with a belt. He had a brown complexion, and he was big and muscular. His dark brown hair was cut close to his head. The man was holding a flaming torch in his right hand. His seemingly black eyes swept from Amias to me. I swallowed the lump forming inside my throat as the big man eyed me from head to toe. I avoided his gaze as he was intimidating to look at. He seemed mature as he was probably a few years older than me. “What took you so long?” the man asked. His voice was deep and husky, and he had a thick accent that I couldn’t place. He shifted his gaze back to Amias. “You told us that you will only be gone for a while,” he grunted. “Almost half a day is not a while, old man.”

Amias laughed a little. “Warm greetings to you, too,” he said. “I apologize if I was out for a long time. I had to pull him out from a swarm of blind ghouls and outrun a Tyranid demon.”

The man was not convinced. “I told you I should have come with you. I could have gotten you out sooner.”

“As you can see, I managed,” he said. “I found him.”

At that, the man ventured his eyes back to me again. “Who is this… boy?”

Amias scratched his head. “He is not just a boy. He is your leader,” Amias declared. “Magat Karagatan, I would like you to meet Sh’muel Chazaklev. The last of the Archangel's Chosen Ones.”