Chapter 781: To Make a Hero

“He's finally gonna talk about us,” Cedric whispered.

Alex paused the record. “It looks like it…and there's already a lot for us to digest.”

“Now we find out why and how he made us,” Drestra said. “Or why and how he made our predecessors.”

“I, for one, am very interested in knowing—” Professor Jules was so angry that she was shaking. “—why he thought he should create some horrible monster—in the image of another horrible monster—and make it fight five people so young, that they hadn’t even seen twenty years of life yet, is beyond insanity. This is one of the worst violations of alchemy I have ever heard of. How monstrous!”

“But…” Merzhin paused. His eyes kept looking down and his face was shining with sweat. “…people stopped believing in him…and he was going to die. Yet, he chose to punish, not only those he felt had wronged him, but every generation thereafter! How could…how could he do this?”

“I don't know,” Hart said. “Fancy alchemy or magic or divine—”

“I mean morally!” Merzhin shouted, looking at Alex. “You said that in earlier recordings he spoke of our people with love.”

“A condescending love,” Alex replied.

“But it was still love!” Merzhin’s voice was shrill. “How could he come to this?”

“You'd be surprised, Merzhin,” Hart said grimly. “I grew up on the battlefield. I've seen all sorts of people and beasts die, so much that death doesn't really bother me anymore. But that’s not the worst of it. The worst of it was seeing what people would do to survive. The simple truth is many would do anything: I've seen parents take arrows to protect their children. I've also seen others send their children before them into battle while they escaped. People are messed up, Merzhin. I guess gods can be messed up too.”

The Saint shuddered, trembling with a mix of pain and anger. He looked as though a loved one had just died. “I suppose there’s truth in what you say…and it’s ugly…Alex, can we continue? Before I lose my nerve.”

“We can,” the young wizard said, turning the recording back on.

Uldar continued, “When I first designed the Heroes of Thameland, I made sure to tailor their roles for two purposes. The first was for effectiveness: if they were to represent my will in the material world, they would have to be powerful, decisive and strong. Any feelings of guilt that I once had about choosing the age of eighteen for my Heroes, I now believe was misguided. Eighteen is in fact the perfect age. For mortal humans and many races of a similar lifespan—it is the age where most physical development is complete.”

“Oh, you dead pig,” Professor Jules growled.

“Yet, it is also an age where a young person’s mind is still malleable: the process to prepare one to be a Hero requires—often unthinking—loyalty, passion and the ability to be influenced, which comes with being young.” Uldar ran his hand through his white beard. An older individual might have already developed other belief systems, or have had life experiences that would make them resistant to a new role.”

The god tapped his heart. “Most eighteen year olds, on the other hand, would easily accept and leap at the chance of having such power, and the importance that comes with being a Hero. It would boost their sense of self and help to define their purpose in life. Young people often look to outside sources for identity, joining different organisations or groups in order to give themselves a sense of belonging, and to help define their role in this confusing world.”

“I already had a purpose,” Alex muttered, grinding his teeth.

“So did I.” An orange light shone from behind Drestra’s veil.

“Oh…” Merzhin choked.

“Bloody…” Cedric muttered.

Hart kept watching in silence.

“Older individuals would have more life experience, but they would also be more likely to have different attachments, such as a family of their own,” Uldar continued, “which would make them reluctant to accept their new role. A thirty or forty year-old might have children, or even grandchildren, farmsteads, businesses, attachments that they would be loathe to abandon. Even if they did accept the role of Hero, they might only do so while seething with resentment. That would not be inspiring, which brings me to the second reason why I chose that age. I must remember that a major component of the Heroes’ roles is to serve as inspiration. By acting as my representatives against the Ravener, they inspire others to great demonstrations of faith. The beauty, wonder, and vigour of youth is more inspiring than the physical complaints, withered skin, and reluctance of the elderly. And Heroes who do not inspire, serve no purpose in my plan.”

He sighed. “I mourn the role of the General, it was a stroke of genius on my part. The General completed the Heroes, making them the perfect representation of my will and might upon the material world. Each Hero was meant to symbolise something that I valued, or a role that I myself represented for my people.”

The god raised his index finger. Alex could tell he was enjoying himself, revisiting what he’d done. “The Champion represented my martial power. They would be gifted with vast physical capabilities, and the warrior traditions of all those that came before them. Just as the people grow stronger with every generation—honing the knowledge that I granted them—so did the Champion.”

“Makes sense,” Hart said. “The Mark made me a much better warrior.” He looked like he was about to say something else, but then went silent.

“But physical power, without magical might, is a poor representation of my legend in Thameland.” Next, Uldar raised his middle finger. “The Sage was meant to be a demonstration of my power over magic: possessing a tremendous mana pool, just as I do.”

“Yes, but without being given any knowledge?” Drestra hissed. “No proper training? And what if we want to use our mana for something else, not for fighting an enemy you made up?”

Of course, Uldar’s recording could not answer her questions. He continued on. “The Saint represents my divinity, preventing any in Thameland from forgetting my deific presence upon the land. Miracles and magic working together, just as I wielded them when I walked the material world.”

Merzhin whimpered but was otherwise quiet.

“Which brings me to the Chosen,” the god raised his pinky finger, “The second in command of my Heroes. If the General is the head of the Heroes, then the Chosen would be their hands. The Chosen would fill in gaps, while being a deadly force of nature all by themselves.”

“Dunno what t’even say,” Cedric said. “Bloody messed up on that one; I'm no commander.”

Isolde placed her hand on Cedric’s.

Uldar finally raised his thumb. “Then there is the General…”

Everyone looked at Alex.

“The General is the ultimate portrayal of what made me strong,” Uldar said. “I was born with vast gifts, but had I allowed myself to rot in the wilderness with my primitive people, I would never have risen to the lofty heights upon which I stand. Instead, I chose to hone my mind, and absorb the skills of the world to enhance what I already had. Complacency was my enemy, and so it would be an enemy of the General.”

He pulled at his beard in frustration. “I crafted that Mark to take disparate skills and turn them into power, to train them in critical thinking, strategy, and general knowledge. They were to be a tactician, an innovator, a teacher and a warrior, just as I was. Through their presence, the other Heroes would reach their full potential, and be ready to challenge the Ravener at its peak of power. I had taken such a beautiful path, the five original Heroes were my perfect team, representing me in Thameland…but sadly, they worked much too well.”

Alex leaned forward, hanging on Uldar’s every word.

“The first three cycles went so perfectly,” the god said grimly. “My Heroes fought both hard and well, destroying the Ravener, and causing a surge in faith that I had not felt in millenia. My wound began to recede, I healed, and my strength returned. It was glorious…but it would not last. It was the fourth General who uncovered the true nature of the cycles.”

Alex, the Heroes and Theresa gasped.

“So someone else figured it out before,” Bjorgrund said.

“I should have seen it coming,” Uldar continued. “But I think the first three cycles had gone so well, that I became overly sure of myself and my process. Truly, had I been thinking rationally, I would have realised it was only a matter of time. Generals are trained to question, learn new things, and look for unorthodox solutions. The church and the kingdom provided them with vast stores of knowledge to feed them every cycle, they also shared the knowledge gathered by previous Generals. I had designed the Marks to specifically find those youths whose personalities would best match their roles. Champions would enjoy fighting, Sages would have mana and a talent for magic, Saints would be faithful, Chosens would be brave and Generals would be intelligent and analytical…”

“So we’re jus’ little dolls in little boxes t’him,” Cedric muttered. “Little toys fer our little roles.”

“Yet we suit those roles well…” Merzhin muttered. “But, Alex was no Fool.”

Uldar continued. “But, after three cycles of the Ravener regenerating, it was natural that the cunning General would gather all the previous information of his predecessors, and begin to look for ways to stop it from returning. It was the fourth General who discovered the flaw in my design for the dungeon cores; in order to ensure that Ravener-spawn would be able to use them, I'd designed them so they could be controlled by those who followed me…my intent was for the spawn of the Ravener, myself, and—in case of the unforeseen—my most loyal servants to do so.”

Alex, Professor Jules, Isolde and Drestra looked at one another.

Uldar went on. “As a result, I went with the easiest and most simple limitation for the dungeon cores: they could only be used by those that believed in, and served me. The General was able to unravel my plan.”

The god’s shoulders slumped. “They deduced that I was behind the Ravener and quickly turned the other Heroes against me. It took much of my power, as well as the lives of many members of the hidden church to silence the General. My hidden church then needed to use the dungeon cores to turn the Ravener’s own spawn against it to end that cycle. It was nothing short of a disaster.”

“So, seems ‘e had somethin’ of a rebellion before,” Cedric said.

“But, why haven't we heard of that?” Drestra’s voice crackled. “There's no trace of any history that mentions anything about that.”

Alex paused the recording.

“History is easy to change,” Professor Jules said. “Especially in an isolated realm like Thameland: if one changes the history books, then—once enough generations and the most long-lived people have passed—one can change what history is.”

“History’s recorded by the winners,” Hart added.

“But it still makes no sense,” Drestra said. “The witches of the Crymlyn would remember. They'd pass it on.”

“Let's find out how he did it. Maybe some sort of mind magic on a mass scale?” Alex said, turning the recording back on.

Uldar continued. “Once the rebellion was ended, the Ravener was destroyed, and we moved on. The problem was that the next General uncovered my plan too—found the hidden church—and wanted payment to keep what she’d learned to herself. We had to silence her as well. When another General discovered the flaws in my plan, it was clear that it had failed, but it was too late to abandon it.”

He touched the wound again. “The cycle, at that point, was self-sufficient: the Ravener would continue to reconstitute itself, and the Heroes would continue to be chosen, even without input from me. I needed it to function that way, in case I was ever too incapacitated to take care of the cycle myself. I was also largely dependent on the faith generated by the wars, simply destroying all that I had done and starting over from scratch, would have resulted in my death before I could have ever created something new. So I needed to fix what I had. And what I had was a problem that would not go away. I needed a reset, but too many would remember what had come before.”

The god clenched every muscle in his body like he was in agony. “It was with a heavy heart that I did it, that I activated the Ravener’s final protocol. And in the next cycle, it turned the entirety of my kingdom into a mass grave. Together, my Ravener and I destroyed nearly everyone in Thameland.”

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Author's Note

Hello thirty-nine cool fools, almighty chosen, wise sages, and mighty champions! Thank you for your support!

Oftentimes eighteen is a VERY good age for transitioning into other life paths, whether that be rebuilding yourself in the military, transitioning yourself into a future career...or being indoctrinated into a cult. There's some psychology in it, which Uldar weaponised here.

I wrote some papers on military training and youth awhile back...and now they were helpful here!

Alrighty, cya Tuesday!