A Hero Awakens
Unlike many before her, Elonda had chosen the path she took. "My fate is my own to decide; my destiny ruled by my will," she preached and lunged at the practice elemental before her. Sweat dripped down her face as the unrelenting heat of the summer sun beat on her brow. "Again," sounded Rolith, and the clash of steel rang across the training grounds. "Again." Clang! "Again." Shring! "Again." Crash!
There had always been a need for warriors in Lore, but the rise in monster activity brought in more demand - and more recruits. Tales of villages and towns leveled by stampeding horrors often circulated the tight groups of new fighters, some more gruesome than others. Elonda had lived through her fair share before arriving at Oaklore Keep, her stories no different from the rest. Stripped of her home and comforts, Elonda knew what it meant to work for what was regained.
The once prestigious name of her family had been slathered with the muck of iniquitous rumors, for after the town beneath their watch was torn apart before their eyes, survivors, driven mad by the force that had taken them, told defamations of protectors inept, unwilling to rise for the cries of their charge.
Defeated, Elonda and her family trudged across the lands of Lore as nameless wanderers - sellswords to those who paid, extra help for those who couldn't. Having scavenged enough to purchase stability, they made a home of the forests surrounding Oaklore Keep, and the family resumed their practices.
Each of her older sisters joined the ranks of warriors trained by Captain Rolith, and each were named heroes of the Keep.
"I vow," said Meganna, "to bring honor back to our name." And she did, single handedly defeating Darcar, head of the bandit guild that plagued the lands around Oaklore.
"I vow," said Emilia, "to uphold the birthright bestowed upon me." And she did, overcoming the Hydra that besieged the shores of the Keep.
"I vow," said Kristae, "to continue the traditions of my family." And she did, heading the defence against the undead that threatened to take Oaklore.
Though noble were their aspirations to which they held true, Elonda did not share the ideals of her sisters.
"My fate is my own to decide," she repeated, hacking at the training elemental once again. Born fourth out of five children, Elonda had no wish to usurp her older siblings, nor set a new standard for her younger. Although set in her way, she had no knowledge of how to continue when her training was complete.
"Rest!" commanded Rolith, and sighs of relief echoed across the field as the trainees dropped their weapons and collapsed to the ground. Elonda bent over her sword and closed her eyes, letting the breeze dry the sweat from her face. A shadow fell across her as the familiar clatter of armor came to a stop. She looked up to see Rolith, backlit by the afternoon sun, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Every day, you improved," he observed, "and every day, you grew stronger. Though you've yet to reach the peak of your abilities, you have reached the end of your training with me as your captain."
Elonda stood up, staring at Rolith in shock. "Sir, I-"
The captain shook his head and held up his hand. "Tonight, Elonda, be named Warrior and fight for the honor of your king; fight to continue the legacy of your family."
Her shoulders fell and she looked to the ground.
"Be confident," said Rolith, putting an armored hand on her shoulder. "The burden you bear is heavy, I know, but I'm sure the feat you accomplish will be just as great as your sisters' before you."
She looked up, gave a weak smile and nodded. "Thanks, Captain."
He smiled back, lingering for just a moment longer before turning away.
That evening, Elonda Cadimas was named Warrior.
Seated in the place of honor at her father's side, she recited the words of her sisters' vows internally, preparing herself to announce her own promise to carry the legacy of her family name.
King Alteon stood up, arms outstretched to quiet the dinner conversations. Silverware clinked on plates as the hall fell silent. "Tonight," he announced, his voice booming over the guests, "we feasted in the honor of those who successfully endured Captain Rolith's training. Please, new heroes of Oaklore Keep, rise and make your vows as official Warriors!"
Applause greeted the few that stood spread throughout the tables by the king. Vows of loyalty and courage and protection and honor echoed through the hall, each followed by cheering and claps of approval with low rumbles of conversations in between, until only Elonda was left standing. A heavy blanket of silent anticipation settled over the guests, whispers skittering across tables like mice.
Elonda inhaled deeply, pulling her shoulders back and raising her chin. "I vow," she began, "to-to…." she choked. "To continue-"
She could feel jeering thoughts behind the mocking eyes that watched her stumble to find words. In that moment, she remembered the vows of her sisters - each a promise to uphold their birthright. She remembered Rolith's words, Fight to continue the legacy of your family. She remembered the crippling responsibility of her name and the debilitating fall as it was dragged through mud.
Elonda closed her eyes and opened them again, her face set in fierce confidence as she confronted those who doubted her. "I vow," she thundered with a newfound conviction, "to decide my own fate, and to rule my own destiny by the strength of my will!" she shouted, slamming her fist on the table.
Shock silenced cynical whispers for the breadth of a few moments before the hall erupted with applause, and Elonda took her seat as both a sense of pride and dread washed over her. She didn't need to look over to know her father's disappointment - she could feel it emanating from him like a sickness.
"Why should I continue a legacy that has already been fulfilled by my older sisters?!" she argued after her siblings had gone to their rooms.
"A legacy of heroes?" her mother retorted. "Do you not want that? To come from a family known for courage and valor and bravery in the face of the greatest adversities? Explain this to me, child, because I cannot understand the purpose of your disgraceful display this evening."
"I just want to make a legacy of my name," she replied, her voice quiet. "I don't want to be known as a daughter who only carried on family traditions, however great the deeds."
"Do you wish to forsake your birthright, then?" Her father stepped into the room.
"No, I-"
"Do you wish to abandon all that we have worked for?" he boomed. "All that we struggled to achieve? Do you-"
"I don't want to continue the patrimony of my family!" she yelled back at him. "I want to bring honor to my own name!"
Her father looked down on her, his eyes like burning coals and his anger as palpable as smoke, while her mother stared in shock from across the room.
"Leave," he growled, his voice low like the rumble of thunder. "Leave your honor and your name, for I will have none of this talk from a child of mine," he spat, turning away.
A crippling sense of dread came over her, sobering her anger. "Dad-"
"LEAVE!" he bellowed, refusing to look back at her.
Elonda slowly brought herself upright and glared at the back of her father's head. "Fine," she spat. "Know me as Elonda of Lore, then, Alastor Cadimus, and you can keep your name untainted."
After furiously gathering her things, Elonda took one last look at the home they had made. Memories of times long passed appeared before her mind's eye - their fall, their struggle, and their resurrection as they made a reputation for themselves in Oaklore Keep.
"My family is not my identity," she spat, fuming that she was fighting back tears as she turned away from all that she loved.