King-Breaker. The Legendary Little-Man. The Under-Beast. The Throne-Eater. Spot six among The Nine. He was a man of small stature and great myth. His stories were as wild as any— even more so, if Claude's memory of his guidebooks served him correctly. But his story didn't start so adventurous and wild. His beginnings weren't humble. They were criminal…. allegedly. He got his start by completely destabalizing The Antilles— or the old World Caribbean.
He slaughtered the king and turned the castle grounds to ash. For years after, he lived like an urban legend, coming to bring more destruction everytime the castle was rebuilt and a new king was installed.
He served five years in The Halls of the Basilisk before being pardoned thanks to Ronin and The Dominators help. It was said that he was fighting corruption and freeing his home, but every hero Claude spoke to openly disliked him.
They said he was brash, disrespectful, conniving, and loved undoing what was considered done. Whether it be plans for something as simple as a gala for heroes or something as grand as a Detection Corps sting operation.
Claude remembered as a boy once hearing heroes in discussion say that King-Breaker was simply a member of The Nine because he was too strong not to be with his Anti-Lord System.
And it was that being that chose him. That being that took a liking to Claude and felt he could potentially take his place in the next generation of The Nine.
"The hell could he possibly see us having in common?!" Claude thought— unable to contain his disappointment as he walked behind the Champion of The House of Broken Kings.
They were the first to head into The University of The Phoenix. Everyone else continued to talk and showboat to the other houses.
V had Samuel on the ground doing push ups with a heeled boot digging into his backside.
House Redvine's Champion was a tall boy with one red and one brown eye and a thousand pounds of dark flowing robes that flowed in the wind unnaturally. He held his hand out with Xander, Darius and Brink, guiding them in mixing their elemental natures as some sort of entry level test or skilled celebration.
Everything else blurred as Claude marched further away from the familiar wild of the islands and into the new horrors of the dark castle.
His Champion was….. mundane. All the others touted legendary flashing armors and insane body modifications…. Like Salazar. But his Champion was normal. Of medium height and seemingly unremarkable build. His walk was calm. Light. Clearly talented with the sword at his hip no matter how basic it looked in its battered leather sheath.
He wore a dark brown whool cloak that hid most of his body even in the sweeping island winds. His cloak was the same color as his dreads. And his skin.
"You seem confused. That's good. That's how you know you'll be a good fit. My name is Dahmir, by the way." His voice was soft— he sounded as young as Claude.
"I mean…." Claude processed his thoughts best by keeping his eyes on the dark stairs and off the dark castle that seemed to move like a beast raising to its full height as they closed in. "I was…. I've heard…. What everyone hears."
Dahmir laughed, "Ha! Yea, most of it's true."
"But. Still, he's a hero. That term seems to mean something different depending on where you go... maybe what I've heard was said by people who are bad… heroes." Claude cringed at the bastardized sentence he muttered. "I'm….. more ashamed that im sort of bitching about hearsay, actually."
Dahmir slowed down so he could walk beside Claude, "What's life if it isn't a bitch to be bitched about?"
"That's a lot of bitches." Claude said as they stopped at the massive doors.
"Always is." Dahmir put a hand out to the doors, stopping right before touching.
He turned and looked at Claude. His eyes were dark, calm, a little tired. But his skin was sunkissed and radiant. Claude could see a thousand scars and tattoos wrapping his neck beneath a dark wrapping of bandages. The first bit of something beyond the mundane. "What did you say before that?"
"What?"
"About heroes being different?"
Claude shrugged, "I don't know. I used to think….. heroes were just this thing. This constant. I think they still are….. but I'm being shown they're not. It's not designed that way. Even at the very beginning. We're taught something else."
It was silent. At the top of the stairs, they were above the trees and island dunes and structures that cut up the winds, making them feel like they rested on a cloud where the winds roared and solitude reigned. He felt shame and discomfort for voicing a sort of disappointment for heroes to the face of one of their prime runner ups. If Dahmir slapped him and he was expelled, he wouldn't have been surprised. Especially with the enemies he was already building.
Instead, Dahmir smiled. He was missing a tooth.
"What?"
"Potential."
Dahmir pushed open the doors into The University.
Warmed winds smacked against him and his hounds. The air was less salty, suddenly reminding him how oceanic his world was for weeks. Smells of cooked foods and cleaned fabrics drifted over an afterscent of heat and stone. It was….. comforting.
"Come on." Dahmir stepped in.
Claude followed, stepping over the black and orange tiled marble floors.
The place was just as massive inside with an impossibly high cieling holding chandelairs and glass sculptures the size of cabins Claude had passed back in SkyHaven. The gothic architecture of the place was somehow not depressing or unnerving. It was….. elegant.
That combined with the walls of accolades and event celebrations gave the place an overwhelmingly studious vibe.
And he was only in the entry hall.
"Ego is inherently tied to the concept of heroism. I will save her…. I will slay the dragon…. I… I… I. It's the easiest entry and baseline motivator for most heroic concepts and figures. When you monetize it— make it a job and connect it to socially ascending….. It breeds….. vultures. Braggarts. It's why the other Champions are staying outside. They have to flaunt their new recruits and show them how powerful they are."
"Right…." Claude said. "And we're not staying because you're not… a braggart?"
Dahmir shook his head, "I have my moments. But I also have clarity. I'm no hero, Claude Grey. I'm a Slayer. A child soldier in mans battle for planetary dominance against a cross dimensional invader.... or returner, as some speculate."
"Wait— you aren't a hero? Isn't that why you're here? To be one. Do you mean officially?" Claude asked.
Dahmir took him down a hall to the left. His world shrank. "No. I mean, by definition. The moment you sign on to be a student at the University of the Phoenix, you lose any chance of holding the title of hero. Heroes aren't made here. Most never grasp that idea because in truth, they don't care. Something tells me you know that."
Claude thought back to Burp….. Tai ….. Enzo …. Xander …. Emma, the list went on.
"You do. See, potential." Dahmir tapped the side of his head. "Our numbers here in The House of Broken Kings are small— but even then, it takes a lot of work to make them understand that. You got it on your own. Not bad."
"So that's what we do? Discuss idealogy? Did I talk with Samuel and Ursula too much?"
"No." Dahmir said as he took Claude through a door.
Suddenly they stood in a portal room.
Dahmir continued, "We embrace reality. We sever cultural ailments by any means neccesary because we know we exist outside of it. This is a world of purity, hierarchy and discrimination. It's only on the outside that you can see how dysfunctional it is."
"The outside?" Claude was lost a thousand times over.
Dahmir swept back his cloak, revealing he was missing an arm, "Outside of the heirarchy. To them I'm broken. I'm not man or monster. I'm flawed. Defected. I exist outside of the battlefield so I can see it for all it is. WE can see it that way, but only if we look. Practice using those eyes during your break."
"Break?" Claude said.
"You get a week at home. Embrace it, it'll be the last for a long time. When you return, we're getting straight to work." Dahmir shrugged back on his cloak.
As Claude hesitantly headed toward the portal labeled, "Skylight Guildhall Portal Room"
As he did, Dahmir's words echoed and resonated in ways he probably didn't plan for.
The word "Defect" hammered away at the inner walls of his skull, reminding him of an unavoidably horrific fact.
One he'd have to face head on, sooner than he imagined.
He was going home.
To his father.
Who very well may not have been human.
Claude steeled himself. Dahmir watched intently as he stepped through the portal and made his way home.