Caelum watched the logs crumble, creating a cloud of embers that danced in the evening light. He let his body sink deeper into his leather armchair, basking in the peaceful twilight. It was rare that Caelum ever had time to truly relax. The manor kept him busy enough; owning a castle would have been a nightmare. The royal family had been horrified to discover the noble hero wanted to take their daughter back to his homely village. The elaborate manor was the closest compromise they would find, and he had come to accept his new life.
“You’ve got a guest in the… oh, it can wait. Thinking about the past, dear?” asked his wife, strolling into the room. “You never come into this room unless you plan to gaze at your old sword,” she said, wrapping her arms around the back of the chair. “And it is the first year anniversary of your defeat of the dread wizard Phyradin.”
“Already?” he asked. “I didn’t realize it had been that long. I must be getting old! Yeah, I keep expecting him to crawl out of that abyss, robe charred, screeching ”˜you’ll never be able to defeat me!’” he declared, laughing. “How did you know that, anyway? I thought you spent the entire time in the captivity of the Demon King?”
“Oh, I did,” she said, tossing her hair back, “but the peasants are building a statue in the main square. It’s actually a pretty good likeness for crude granite.”
“Y’monne, are you serious?” he yelled, turning red with embarrassment. “Is it too much to go back to a normal life with my wife and my family?”
“Welcome to politics,” she said, smiling broadly. “You’re lucky they didn’t put you right into the spotlight as a hero of the realm. Noble Caelum and his divine elven sword? People looked up to you, you know. Thwarting bandits, slaying dragons, subduing hordes of orcs… why, I bet every lad from here to Seylan wanted to grow up to be just like you!”
“Don’t remind me,” he said. “If it weren’t for you, dear, I’d wish I never found that sword.”
“Oh, hush!” she laughed. “Now I know you’re being silly. If you saw the lands getting plagued by an undead scourge, you’d chase after them yourself, holy sword or no. You can’t help but doing the right thing.”
“And it’s my biggest weakness,” he muttered to himself. “So who is this guest waiting in the entry hall? I suppose the peasants want me to make an appearance at the banquet or something equally droll?”
“Well, no, not quite,” she said, staring at a spot on the floor.
“Don’t tell me it’s Nolan,” he groaned, pulling himself out of the chair. “How many times do I need to tell him that I refuse to be promoted to the captain of the guard?”
“That’s… not what he wants,” replied Y’monne, twirling the loose ends of her hair. “It seems that there’s a new threat to the realm, and… well, he wants you to take sword in hand, and go out after it.”
“But that’s going to be someone else’s job!” he yelled, thumping the wooden paneling with his fist. “It’s just not done! It’s someone else’s turn to have a heroic adventure against all odds. I can’t go and do it again! Can you imagine? Caelum the jerk who completed two quests? Who insisted that he needed twice the loot and wives of the normal hero?”
“Well, yes, I know that, dear. But he’s from the north, remember? He grew up in the Dwarven lands- you can hardly blame him for being so practical.”
“Bet you I can,” he muttered under his breath. “Alright, I’ll talk to him in the armory. Maybe if I gift a few of the minor weapons, he’ll leave me alone.”
--------------------------------------
“…which is why the kingdom needs you!” finished Nolan, unaware that his words were falling onto deaf ears. Caelum had not paid attention to a single word he’d said, choosing instead to focus on the fine weaponry around him; another reason the two men were meeting in this room.
“No, that is the reason the kingdom needs a hero. I have yet to be convinced that the hero in question has to be me. A series of robberies performed by mysterious individuals with matching tattoos? The entire thing screams of a starter quest. Once the hero defeats the thieves, he discovers other, more dangerous tattooed individuals… and pretty soon, he’s defeating the master of a crazed dark cult trying to resurrect their deity. Standard stuff. I’m sure any man could do it with the right equipment. I mean, how old is your son? I’m sure it’d be a great chance to prove himself.”
“I will thank you to leave my son out of this!” said Nolan. “The lad is barely eighteen, and I have difficulty enough with his wanderlust as it is! He needs structure and discipline, not some fool adventure! His place is at home, with his studies.”
“Whatever you say,” said Caelum, shrugging his shoulders.
“I see we are at an impasse,” he replied. “You are being very rude. If you are quite finished with your ridiculous ideas and stubborn principles, I will take my leave. I look forward to proving you wrong when the entire kingdom falls apart around you because you refused to help.” Nolan stomped out of the room, looking all the world like a disgruntled toddler.
“Well, that settles it indeed,” said Caelum, pulling down a suitable sword and shield. They were no match for a demon king, of course, but they were more than magical enough to handle a few robbers. “Y’monne, would you…?”
“Of course, dear,” replied his wife, from her place in the adjacent study. “I’ll have the servants send those arms to Nolan’s son in the morning, while Nolan is busy with the town council. It’s the excuse the boy needs to go out into the world and prove his worth.”