Argent knelt in the warren. The walls were alight with the glow of Argentum. Veins of it latticed through the stone walls, roof and floor of the chamber. It was hard to draw breath through the the quiet sobbing of lungs. He had never felt such love!
Are you willing to sacrifice?
Do you want to be my champion?
“Yes! O Yes, my Lord. I do now. I want to do anything you ask.”
Do you want to be a Hero?
“Yes! The things I will do in your name … I will bring you such glory!”
Argent held Barwolfripper above his head. The blade naked on his palms.
Which do you want more?
Argent sniffed and glanced around the room.
“Don’t they kind of go together?”
I have many heroes. Each with their own story, willing to make both themselves and others sacrifice many things to bring me glory. Very few work with me regularly to actually bring me glory. None of them are champions.
“Then let me be your champion!”
Even if that means you can’t be a hero?
“What do you mean?”
I’m inviting you into my story. I am the Hero of my story.
Argent lowered his head and raised his arms higher. Nothing happened.
“Um … did I fail?”
Not yet. Put the sword away, I want to give you another gift.
“But the prophesy …”
What if your Hero wants a Champion Musician?
Argent furrowed his brow. Was this the test?
“Music is a waste of time, Simon …”
I invited your father to fight beside me, I’m inviting you to woo with me. Are you willing to sacrifice? Will you let me touch your flute?