Proving Your Worth

Tall, monolithic buildings jutted into the orange sky in Kerning City, silent observers of the constantly shifting colors and patterns on the ground. Among this bustle, one in particular stood out like a needle in a haystack - a warrior dressed in blue. His robe fluttered a bit as he walked, and his bamboo hat kept his eyes hidden in shadow. He watched people pass by him, their own agendas to fulfill. So much movement, he contemplated. All rushing off to one place or another. Do they even know what's happening?

He thought back to the day Sitting Bull told him about his destiny, then to the day he was informed that it was finally time for him to fulfill it. Perhaps I should not be so judging. I had the same mentality, up until I was told I was a champion. "Heh," he laughed quietly.

Suddenly, the crowd turned, drawn to the noise of one particularly loud exchange. The warrior headed towards the source of the noise - a novice assassin was staring down a particularly rude mage, her hands trembling.

"Damn thief," the mage jeered. He looked down on her with extreme disdain. "Brushing up against me. I bet you were trying to pick my pocket. Hit me when I wasn't paying attention."

"Look," she defended herself, "I didn't do anything to you! Why are you accusing me of things I didn't do?" She forced herself to calm down. "I'm not going to continue this conflict. Let's just go our separate ways, and put it behind us."

"Huh," the mage sniffed. "I don't think so. You'd probably stab me in the back later," he continued. "You hear about that mage who went missing up in Orbis? I bet one of you thieves did it."

The thief cried out. "Shut up! Don't make me..."

"Make you do what? Fight me? Come on. I completely outclass you. Shut up and learn your place!"

"Maybe you ought to know yours first," a voice said from behind him.

The mage looked behind, only to be swept to his feet with a swing of a spear. "What the hell are you doing?" he yelled at his attacker. "Stay out of this! Who do you think you are?"

"Me?" the warrior replied. "My name is Omega." He raised his spear - a simple golden rod with a gold spearhead. It seemed to shine even in the shadows. "Leave the kid alone. Take your narrow-minded prejudice elsewhere."

The mage grimaced. "Alriiight, I'll leave her alone... I'll just fight you instead!" He drew his staff, charging it with ice magic. "Cold Beam!"

"Please," Omega said, deflecting the ice with his spear. He cast his Spear Booster, then immediately followed up with a disarming swing of his weapon. The mage's staff was flung a few feet away. Disarmed, the mage stepped back and ran away, stopping only to retrieve his weapon. Omega turned to the thief. "Is everything alright?"

Her face turned a deep red. "O-oh! Ah, I'm okay... just, uh, bruised my ego a l-little bit. Thank you," she stammered out.

"No problem," Omega said. "Stay out of trouble," he added as he walked off, a few people cheering and high-fiving him as he cut through the crowd.

A single voice piped up over the din. "So, are you pleased with yourself?"

The comment bore no malice, but something about it unnerved him. Omega turned towards the voice, to see another warrior. He had fiery red hair and wore dark chainmail with the standard white cross decorating it. He stared through Omega's eyes into his very soul. "Come with me," he said, suddenly turning towards an alleyway.

Omega followed cautiously, as the crowd eventually dispersed. At the end of the alley, the warrior stood, holding a door open. Without a word, Omega walked to the door and entered.

Omega felt a gut-wrenching tug, and the very world around him vanished, replacing itself with an open field. What kind of teleportation was that? he thought. He stared across the field, seeing the mysterious stranger staring back at him. "Who are you?" he called out, putting away his spear.

"So, you're Omega," he replied.

"You're not answering my question," Omega said. "Who are you? Where are we?"

"Then that spear," the stranger continued, not listening to him, "that must be the Glorious. The champion's weapon." He stared at Omega again. "You're the champion, am I correct?"

"Yeah," Omega intoned, his eyes narrowing.

"Shouldn't you be out, er, champion-ing, rather than wasting your time mediating petty arguments?"

"What are you getting at?" Omega barked. The stranger's words pierced him more than they should have.

"You have such a large responsibility," he continued. "The entire universe is counting on you." He pointed a finger at him. "Can you do it?"

"Of course," Omega replied. "Sitting Bull chose me."

"Are you sure?" the stranger asked emphatically. Before Omega could answer, he added, "What makes you different from anyone else? Different from the people stronger than you, faster than you, just plain better than you?"

Omega hesitated. "What are you saying?" he questioned.

"Spar with me," the stranger suggested. "Prove to me that you're worthy of your title."

"No," Omega decided. "You have not done anything wrong. I have no reason to fight."

"No? What about self defense?" The stranger drew his sword - a one-handed blade - and raced towards him. Omega picked up his spear and blocked the man's attack. The sheer force of his attack caught Omega by surprise. "So, feeling outdone?" the man said, as their weapons clashed again and again, Omega on the defensive.

"No! I am the champion! I will prevail!" Omega said, still unable to get an attack in edgewise.

"How can I trust a champion who's as easy to defeat as you?" the man continued, still attacking.

"Iron Body!" Omega cast, and in the next strike the weapons locked against each other. "I will defeat you."

"You know what they say about pride!" Suddenly, the man pushed hard, forcing the spear out of Omega's hands. He followed up with a strike with the hilt of the sword, catching Omega in the stomach and forcing him to cough up blood.

Omega collapsed in the grass, unconscious, his last thoughts consisting of two words: I failed...