In challenging times, heroes are forged through effort and sacrifice; they aren't born by chance. Heroes emerge when the situation demands it.
At this moment, all eyes were on the individual who could potentially rescue them from the imminent threat. The terrified screams had been replaced by a shared realization—a realization that their fate hinged on this seemingly ordinary young man. If the Kraken's colossal head crashed into the ship again, everyone would face the risk of drowning and death.
They would be forgotten, and their dreams would perish with them.
For some, this ending seemed preferable. Yet, for others, it embodied their worst nightmare.
On the horizon, a small red spot slowly ascended. Dawn was on its way, as if the sun itself desired to witness the impending showdown.
"World Bringer..." an elderly man whispered as he watched the boy stride forward with deliberate steps. There was no trace of fear or hesitation.
Morvain was not Eldric Stormwatch.
Yet, in this crucial moment, he needed to embody Eldric Stormwatch.
"World Bringer..." echoed another woman's voice, joining the solemn chorus.
For them, Morvain represented the last line of defense. They saw him as the emergence of a new hero, akin to Lorn from the legends.
But for Morvain, fear gripped him, and he was grateful that he was already drenched. At least he could attribute any further wetness to the rain and not his own fear-induced accident.
He comprehended the weight of the situation. Aware that all eyes were fixed on him, he felt a godlike responsibility thrust upon his shoulders – their only deity in this moment of calamity.
For Morvain, accustomed to working in the shadows with calculated plans, this was uncharted territory. If he were near land, he might have chosen to swim away, but stranded in the vast sea, exhaustion threatened to drown his feeble body.
Facing imminent death, he pondered on the choice of his end.
'If this spear does its job, I'll be the next World Bringer.'
He clutched the spear tightly, as though his life, as well as the lives of everyone around him, depended on it.
The sound of winds ripping through the air shattered the silence, and he stood there, at the center of the deck, right in the projected impact area of the massive head. One hand gripped the spear, firmly planted on the ground, while the other clutched the black stone.
'You have powers that I don't understand. Powers that were not possible for a scrawny kid like me to possess.'
His thoughts drifted to the moment when he shattered Hound's metallic eyes with the stone in his hand.
'So save this time too. Save this ship.'
He concentrated, attempting to channel the stone's power. Aware of its mysterious capabilities, he hoped for some response, but nothing stirred within the stone.
With a sigh, he retrieved the stone from his pocket. Clutching the spear with both hands, he sandwiched the stone between them, feeling discomfort and pain from the awkward grip. Yet, in the face of imminent death, a little pain seemed inconsequential.
The massive head descended slowly, resembling a feather's descent. Morvain closed his eyes, bracing for impact.
'Save this ship. Save me.'
As the massive head descended, crashing with a resounding impact, another round of howling echoed through the ship. Morvain opened his eyes to find himself kneeling on the ground. Thick, dark liquid oozed through his hands, just above which the slimy head of the Kraken was impaled on the spear.
'Holy shit! It worked!'
"World Bringer!"
"World Bringer!"
"You saved us."
The cheers and praises echoed through the air. But the jubilation quickly turned to panic as the Kraken roared, standing erect, pulling Morvain along with it. Dangling twenty-five meters above the sea, he clung to the spear for dear life. People below cried out in despair, their voices muffled by the distance.
"Holy fuck! HOLY FUCK!"
Desperation fueled Morvain's movements as he clutched the spear and cautiously inched his way towards the only place he could find footing—the Kraken's head.
However, the task proved challenging as the monstrous creature thrashed and howled, making each step perilous. Undeterred, Morvain persisted. With the black stone in his hands, he extended himself, strained against the chaos, and eventually reached the slimy surface.
The slippery texture repulsed him, but he suppressed his disgust and focused on maintaining his precarious foothold.
Perched atop the Kraken's head, Morvain clung desperately to the spear, his eyes wide with shock. The breathtaking view from this vantage point momentarily distracted him from the life-threatening situation.
However, his astonishment was soon replaced by frustration as he questioned the inexplicable resilience of the monstrous creature.
'Why the hell isn't this thing dead? Its head is impaled on a metal spear! How is it still alive?' he pondered, the urgency of the situation clashing with the surreal beauty of the sea below.
'It's...It's beautiful...'
Morvain found himself awestruck.
The sunrise painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a magical glow over the vast expanse of the sea. From his precarious perch atop the Kraken's head, he could witness the unfolding spectacle – the ship, the landmass, and the world bathed in the ethereal light of dawn.
'It's truly beautiful,' he mumbled in a mix of amazement and disbelief, momentarily forgetting the imminent danger he faced.
His mind quickly snapped back to the present. Mesmerizing sunrise or not, Morvain needed to deal with the immediate predicament of being suspended above the sea on a spear-pierced Kraken.
'They will bond with me, right? ...right?'
The uncertainty lingered in his mind, but he pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time to ponder mythical bonds. He needed a way down before the Kraken decided to resume its rampage.
The struggle intensified. Morvain fought to maintain his grip, each movement of the Kraken threatening to send him plummeting into the sea. The stone clutched in his hand, he used every ounce of determination to counteract the Kraken's violent resistance.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, mixing with the slimy residue on the Kraken's head. The sun continued its ascent, casting a golden hue on the unfolding spectacle. Morvain, the scrawny kid from the slums, clung to the spear with a tenacity that defied his humble origins.
"If this spear can't get the job done, I swear on your mother's good name, I'll turn you into a pulp," he declared, smoothly sliding the shaft from the head and confidently clutching it in his hand.
Feeling like a damn hero on the brink of slaying a dragon-sized villain, he envisioned himself as an Argonian Knight, waiting in his lair with golden armor glinting and a majestic cape billowing in the wind. Atop a fearsome red dragon, he saw himself orchestrating the climax of an epic tale.
"This is about to shake up the whole world, and I'm hoping it's for the damn better."
He inhaled deeply, casting his gaze down at the deck. Although the figures were blurred, their energy was palpable. He sensed their hearts, their hands raised as if in reverence to some divine force, perhaps the All Father himself.
"This ain't any god, you sheeps, it's just me. A rat from the gutters."
Internally shaking his head at their misplaced devotion, his heartbeat surged, the rhythm pounding within him like a tribal drum. Heat radiated through the spear, reaching a point where his palm began to singe. Amidst it all, he felt the collective prayers of the destitute and damned souls below.
Stepping onto the slimy Kraken, he once again raised the spear high. In that moment, his keen eyes caught a transformation—the light at the edge of the spear shifted from a serene blue to a blazing, fiery red.
Red like flame. Red like Blood.