He had arrived only about an hour ago, yet already spoke the common tongue fluently—a gift from the Goddess, as Alaric had explained. The clothing they provided—a tunic of white and gold with a deep blue cloak fastened by a sunburst clasp—felt as familiar as his football jersey had back home. Even the pants reminded him of his uniform, stopping at his knees to give way to tall brown leather boots. The footwear had initially felt uncomfortable until Alaric instructed Jason to focus his magic on reshaping the soles. The high priest had been visibly impressed by how quickly Jason grasped this fundamental magical skill.
Alaric led him onto the temple's grand balcony, where the roar of the crowd below dwarfed even the championship game's cheers. Thousands of faces looked up at him with naked hope and adoration. Children sat on parents' shoulders for a better view. Old women wept openly. Men raised fists in salute.
Though accustomed to adoring fans, Jason had never experienced anything like this. As he surveyed the crowd, he realized these people fully believed in him as their savior from demonic forces. Pride swelled within him at having been chosen, tempered by a nervousness he couldn't entirely suppress. He couldn't bear the thought of failing them. Yet Jason had extensive practice pushing down insecurities to focus on the mission at hand.
"People of Lumina," Alaric called out, his voice magically amplified to reach even the farthest onlookers.
Jason noticed a small orb that illuminated as Alaric spoke. That must be how his voice carries so far, he realized.
"I present to you the answer to our prayers, the fulfillment of ancient prophecy. Behold the Goddess's Chosen, come to deliver us from evil!"
The crowd erupted, the sound washing over Jason like a physical force. This far surpassed any fame he had known as a college athlete. This was... worship. Jason remained determined not to let it go to his head. He had prepared himself during the brief minutes after dressing—with the awkward assistance of several handmaidens—knowing that a concise, powerful speech would resonate most effectively.
"The Champion will address you!" Alaric announced, stepping aside with a respectful bow toward Jason.
"People of Lumina," Jason called out, his voice resonant and clear. "I come to you in a time of darkness, sent by the Goddess herself." He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the sea of hopeful faces. "I make you this solemn vow: So long as I draw breath, humanity will stand strong against the demon threat. This is not merely a battle for territory or power—this is a sacred struggle between good and evil. And good will triumph!"
Jason raised his fist skyward as he delivered the final words, his voice rising to a powerful crescendo. The crowd erupted in response, their collective voice like thunder. Children scattered flower petals into the air, women blew kisses, and men mirrored Jason's gesture, raising their own fists in solidarity.
"I ask only this of you," Jason continued, lowering his hand slightly to quiet the fervent crowd. "Stand with me. Be strong. Have faith. Together, we will create a world where your children can grow up without fear, where the shadow of demonic evil no longer darkens your days. This I swear, by the light of the Goddess herself!"
As though orchestrated by divine will, a shaft of sunlight suddenly broke through the clouds, bathing Jason in a golden radiance. The crowd gasped in collective awe before erupting into cheers so thunderous they seemed to shake the very foundations of the temple.
Beside him, Alaric nodded approvingly. "They needed this," he murmured. "Hope has been in short supply since the magic disappeared."
Alaric had explained earlier that humans' magical abilities had simply vanished without warning. One day they wielded their powers freely; the next, nothing remained. This calamity had occurred barely a month ago, driving people to intensify their prayers to the Goddess. Most blamed the Demon God for this affliction, while a small faction feared the Goddess had abandoned them. Now, with Jason's arrival, the people had their answer—clearly, the Demon God was behind this assault on humanity.
Jason nodded solemnly, watching the celebrating crowd with newfound purpose. "When do we begin?"
"The war council awaits us now," Alaric replied. "The kingdom's military leaders, scholars of demon lore, survivors of recent attacks—all eager to assist the Champion."
As they turned to leave the balcony, a young girl—no more than seven or eight—slipped past the guards and darted forward, clutching a small wooden carving in her hands.
Her brown hair was styled in twin buns that bounced gently with each hurried step. Freckles scattered across her olive skin, creating a constellation beneath her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. Her bright, wide green eyes gazed up at Jason, filled with unmistakable adoration.
"For you, Hero," she said shyly, offering the crude figure of a warrior with a raised sword. "To protect you."
Jason wondered how she had managed to reach the balcony, as the stairs provided the only access to this platform clearly reserved for ceremonial addresses. Her small stature must have helped her evade notice. He also observed how quickly and quietly she moved—qualities that would make her an excellent scout someday.
Jason knelt to meet her at eye level, accepting the gift with a warm smile. "What's your name?"
"Elara," she whispered.
"Thank you, Elara. I'll keep it with me always." He carefully tucked the carving into his belt. "Now I need you to be brave too. Can you do that?"
She nodded solemnly.
"Good. Because heroes come in all sizes. Remember that."
As the guards gently escorted her back to her waiting parents, Alaric regarded Jason with newfound respect. "The Goddess chose well," he said. "You have both the warrior's strength and the shepherd's heart."
Jason followed the High Priest down the winding stairs and into the temple's inner sanctum, where maps and battle plans awaited their attention.
The chamber was illuminated by wall-mounted torches that cast dancing shadows across shelves lined with ancient books and scrolls. Dominating the center of the room stood a massive circular table hewn from a single piece of stone, flanked by two long rectangular tables surrounded by chairs—the only wooden furnishings in the otherwise stone chamber.
Around these tables, the kingdom's leaders had gathered. Some remained standing while others sat, and two individuals had dragged their chairs closer to the round table at the center. These two were engaged in a heated discussion, their animated gestures and tense expressions revealing their disagreement even before Jason could discern their words.
He thought briefly of home—his parents, his sister, his teammates. They would be worried sick. But somehow, he knew this was where he belonged. This world needed him more than his own did, and Jason had never been one to shrink from responsibility.
As Jason and Alaric approached the gathering, one advisor noticed them and discreetly nudged a seated colleague. When the seated man spotted them, he rose quickly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. The sound drew everyone's attention except for the two figures in the center who continued their increasingly heated debate. All those who had been sitting stood with similar haste, offering slight bows in respect and greeting.
Jason returned their gestures with quick bows of his own until Alaric came to a stop before the massive round table where the two men continued their argument, now clearly audible. Everyone else watched silently, either waiting for the pair to notice Jason's arrival or allowing them to finish their discussion.
"...can't be lying to me right now," insisted the man with long blond hair and an equally lengthy beard.
"Why would I lie to you? We must send the Champion out as soon as possible. The demons are already on the move. They've noticed our magic is gone," countered his opponent, a man with an impressive man-bun and clean-shaven face. He punctuated his argument by jabbing his finger at a specific location on the table.
Jason followed the gesture to see a mountain range depicted on what he now realized was an extraordinary map. Unlike any cartographic representation he had ever seen, this was more of a miniature recreation of the entire realm.
Whoever crafted this is incredible, Jason thought, marveling at the detailed towns and geographical features rendered in perfect scale.
Something caught his eye—small points moving across the map's surface. As he looked more carefully, Jason realized that elements were shifting all across the representation. This wasn't merely a map but a living model of the actual world, likely preserved by magic before the power had vanished. The only section devoid of movement was the northern region, where a small black castle stood ominously still at its center. Even as Jason concentrated on that area, nothing stirred within its boundaries.
"Troubling news has just arrived," announced an aged scholar, approaching the table map with a fresh scroll. His entrance immediately commanded everyone's attention.
The man slowed his pace, seemingly taken aback by the unusual number of people gathered in the chamber. Jason sensed this room rarely hosted such a large assembly.
After clearing his throat, the scholar handed the scroll to the long-bearded blonde man. "Our scouts report unusual activity in the demon capital. Rituals, celebrations. They speak of... a king." With a respectful bow, he quickly withdrew from the room.
"The demons have no king," Alaric stated firmly. "Their last one died centuries ago, slain by his human queen."
The scroll's recipient studied its contents before releasing a heavy sigh. "Something has changed. The demons believe their king has returned."
Jason recognized this as his moment to demonstrate why the Goddess had chosen him. He stepped forward to the map and commanded with natural authority, "Show me where they're most vulnerable."
The council members exchanged glances, both surprised and pleased by his directness. This was no hesitant, reluctant hero needing to be convinced of his destiny. This was a natural leader, ready to take the fight to the enemy.
As strategies were discussed and plans formed, none noticed the brief flickers of golden light occasionally passing across Jason's skin—like static electricity but brighter, more ethereal. None except Jason himself, who felt each fluctuation as a momentary weakness, a fleeting doubt. He pushed such feelings aside. There was no room for uncertainty in a champion, no place for questions in a holy war.
While the bearded man indicated the locations of demon activity, Jason noticed something significant about the map. The areas under demonic control showed no movement whatsoever, as if the beings had somehow obscured their territories from magical surveillance. Some regions appeared fuzzy, like television reception during poor signal strength.
The map displayed human settlements with remarkable clarity, while forests, mountains, and rivers devoid of human presence appeared less defined. Jason realized this magical tool had been designed primarily to track and monitor human populations. If people were driven from their homes, the map would lose much of its strategic value.
The area surrounding the demon castle appeared particularly distorted—almost completely obscured except for the small black spire that seemed to fade into nothingness the closer one looked to its foundation. The castle's ominous black peak stirred a deep unease in Jason. The uncertainty of not knowing his enemy's true position or strength left him profoundly uncomfortable.
Jason studied the distorted area surrounding the demon castle, trying to make sense of the strange visual effect. The obscured region seemed to bend light around it, as if the very geography refused to be mapped.
"The castle has always been difficult to observe," a woman's voice explained. Jason turned to see an older woman with silver-streaked dark hair approaching. Her eyes were a rich brown that caught the torchlight like polished amber. Multiple protective amulets hung from her neck, and her fingers were adorned with rings bearing arcane symbols.
"Even before our magic was gone, the Demon God's influence created a kind of... blind spot in our perception," she continued with scholarly precision. "The map primarily tracks humans. Demons distort the image—the more powerful the demon, the greater the distortion. That's why nothing is visible around the castle. We tried for years to resolve this limitation, but only a demon could fix it." Her voice hardened. "And we can't trust those beasts to help us with anything."
Alaric gestured toward her respectfully. "Lady Selene, our foremost demonologist and keeper of the ancient records. Her knowledge of our adversaries is unparalleled."
Lady Selene offered a slight bow. "Champion, I've studied demon lore for four decades. Their weaknesses, their strengths, their social hierarchies—such knowledge may prove critical in the coming conflict." Her voice softened with unexpected passion. "My ancestors lived alongside demons and documented everything. Those scrolls have remained in my family for generations. They're how I first became fascinated with demon lore. I despise them, of course, but they are... remarkably interesting creatures."
"Nah, she just loves them, period," interjected a man with a practical man-bun and an irreverent grin.
Lady Selene rolled her eyes but couldn't quite hide the hint of fondness in her exasperation. She turned back to Jason with a professional smile. "If you need to know anything about demons, just ask me."
She cast a sidelong glance at the man who had spoken. "Unlike General Reven here, I possess actual knowledge."
The man—General Reven, Jason now understood—dismissed her comment with a good-natured wave.
Jason couldn't help but smile. The interaction reminded him of his parents' playful bickering. "So this distortion isn't new?" he asked Lady Selene, gesturing to the obscured castle.
"The distortion around the castle is ancient," the bearded man confirmed, his deep voice resonating with authority. With surprising agility for his age, he moved from his chair to stand before Jason, extending his hand in what Jason recognized as the traditional greeting among nobles. "King Thaddeus of Lumina, Champion. My ancestors have defended these lands for twelve generations."
Jason returned the gesture, suddenly aware he was shaking hands with actual royalty. Despite his athletic accomplishments, nothing in his previous life had prepared him for this level of deference.
"Which brings us to our most pressing concern," General Reven interjected, his demeanor shifting smoothly from jester to commander as he pointed to various marked positions on the map. "Demon raiding parties have grown bolder, striking deeper into our lands. Villages that once required constant guard now lie abandoned."
"General Reven," Alaric introduced formally, "commander of the Royal Legion and our finest military strategist."
I'd be happy to improve the flow and fix any grammar issues. Here's the revised version:
Unlike most seasoned warriors Jason had met, the general's weathered face remained surprisingly expressive, with laugh lines as prominent as battle scars. He acknowledged the introduction with a nod and casual wave that seemed at odds with his rank. Jason found the contrast refreshing—a battle-hardened commander who hadn't lost his humanity. Perhaps maintaining humor amid darkness was its own kind of strength.
"Without magic to power our warning systems and barriers, we're relying entirely on physical scouts and traditional fortifications," added a nervous young man with wire-rimmed spectacles and ink-stained fingers. He hovered protectively near the map as if it were his child.
"Master Pryce, royal cartographer," Alaric explained. "He maintained our living map. We were lucky that the crystal holding the magic had been replaced a few weeks before the magic disappeared. This map has about..."
"Ten months, three weeks, four days, six hours, forty-seven minutes, and some odd seconds," Master Pryce cut in, adjusting his spectacles with an anxious gesture. "I usually carried a new crystal with me, letting it absorb my magic power daily. Eventually, it was easier to wear it as a necklace and switch it out every year." His nervous energy suggested a brilliant mind more comfortable with maps than people.
"And now, with rumors of a returned Demon King..." A woman in practical leather armor joined the conversation. A jagged scar ran from her temple to jaw, and her posture suggested someone perpetually ready for an attack. Her blonde hair was cut shorter than Jason's, and her dark blue eyes maintained a vigilant alertness with every movement she made.
"Captain Mira," Alaric said. "Commander of our scouts and the only person to have infiltrated demon territory and returned alive."
Mira acknowledged Jason with a curt nod, her economy of movement speaking to years of discipline. "My people are ready to serve you, Champion," she stated simply, her direct manner a stark contrast to the court formalities.
As Jason absorbed these introductions, Master Pryce suddenly leaned forward over the map, his spectacles sliding down his nose. His ink-stained fingers hovered over a mountain range to the northeast.
"That's odd," he murmured, drawing everyone's attention.
"What is it, Pryce?" King Thaddeus asked, stepping closer with surprising nimbleness for his stature.
"This area—the eastern peaks of the Ironspine Mountains—it's becoming obscured." Pryce pointed to a section that was developing the same fuzzy distortion as the demon territories. "It was perfectly clear this morning."
Lady Selene moved swiftly to his side, her protective amulets clinking softly. "Are you certain? The map has been deteriorating gradually across all regions."
"Not like this," Pryce insisted, his scholarly hesitance giving way to certainty. "This is different—a sudden change, not gradual degradation. Something is actively blocking our view."
General Reven's playful demeanor vanished completely as he studied the area with narrowed eyes. "Those mountains have been uninhabited for centuries. Too cold, too remote. We've never had reports of demon activity there. Could it be appearing this way because no humans live there?"
"No, Pryce wouldn't make this type of mistake. He knows this map like his own hand. We all know that," King Thaddeus said, his gaze still fixed on the troubling spot.
"Until now," Captain Mira interjected, her hand unconsciously moving to the scar on her face. "My scouts mentioned unusual weather patterns around the eastern peaks just yesterday—sudden storms appearing without warning."
"It could be nothing," Reven said, though his tone suggested he believed otherwise.
"Or it could be everything," Lady Selene countered, her academic interest clearly piqued. "The ancient texts speak of places where the barriers between worlds grow thin. Places of power."
Jason leaned in, studying the increasingly blurred mountain region. Something about it drew his attention, an inexplicable feeling of significance.
"We need to know what's there," he said decisively. "If the demons are establishing a new foothold, we should identify it before they strengthen their position."
Captain Mira nodded in agreement. "I can assemble a scouting party by dawn. My best people can reach those foothills within three days."
"I want to see it myself," Jason stated firmly.
A tense silence fell over the council chamber. King Thaddeus exchanged a concerned glance with Alaric.
"Champion," the High Priest began carefully, "while your eagerness is commendable, sending you into potential danger so soon might be unwise. You've only just arrived."
"I don't intend to go alone," Jason clarified. "Captain Mira and her scouts can lead the way. But if this is demonic activity, I need to see it firsthand."
General Reven's face broke into an unexpected grin. "Not hiding behind the lines. I like him already!" He turned to the King, his manner shifting seamlessly back to professionalism. "With your permission, I'll prepare a small elite force to accompany them. Enough for protection, but not so many we can't move quickly."
King Thaddeus stroked his long beard thoughtfully before nodding. "Two days for preparations. No less. The Champion should have at least some basic training before venturing forth."
"Then it's settled," the King declared, bringing the meeting to a close. "The council will reconvene tomorrow to finalize our approach."
"Come, Champion," General Reven said, clapping Jason on the shoulder with unexpected strength. "Let's see what you can do with a sword."
Jason was surprised at how easily he fit into this group of people who were clearly beyond his age and experience. It was also surprising how readily they took his words into account. The dynamic reminded him of planning sessions with his coach in the locker room. While Jason usually had the final say on plays, he always valued what others contributed.
As Jason followed General Reven, he hoped his skill with a sword would be sufficient. He had played with toy swords as a child, but he knew the reality would be vastly different. Still, the Goddess had chosen him for a reason, and he was determined to learn quickly.