I got in queue and waited patiently for the people to get their papers checked. The process reminded me of a check-in at the airport, except that they didn’t have to take off their shoes and walk through a metal detector. Most were let in, but some were actually being turned away. Every now and then, one of the ones getting turned away started making a fuss, but that only lead to other guards showing up from seemingly nowhere and escorting the troublemaker away. The longer I waited and watched the proceeding, the more nervous I got about my own situation. After all, except for the magic crystal around my neck, I had no means whatsoever to authenticate myself. But then again, I was told by a government organization to come here. They wouldn’t have sent me here, if there was going to be a problem, right? Or at least have given me papers to authenticate myself.
When it
was finally my turn, the guard on duty gave me a derogatory look and
asked for my papers, apparently convinced, that I had none. Not that
he was wrong about that, but being judged as ‘unworthy’ without
even have said a single word still hurt. But that’s the thing about
humans. They are quick to judge on appearances. Be it the gender, the
color of the skin or the attire, people are being judged constantly.
And I looked nothing like the people who got let in.
I pulled
out the crystal from beneath my clothing and said, “I was told to
come here.”
The face of the guard distorted in disgust and he
muttered, “Ah, another one,” before shouting to one of his pals,
“Oy, Rasmus, we’ve got another ‘Champion’ here. Even came on
his own two feet this time, how’s that?!”
There was
something very wrong with this statement and my heart sank. Weren’t
the ‘champions’ supposed to be the saviors of the realm?
Shouldn’t they be treated with respect? And yet, these guards
acted, as if I, as a champion, was not even worth breathing the same
air as them. It wasn’t long until I learned why that is though.
Rasmus came walking from his post and asked me to follow him. He did
it politely, sure, but without leaving the slightest doubt that I
didn’t have much say in the matter. And he ushered me away from the
front gate, where the guard looked after me with contempt in his
eyes. At least I believe to remember that. I’ve never been good at
subtext.
After a
few steps, I worked up some courage and asked, “Excuse me,
Mr...Rasmus, was it?”
“Yes?”
“I was kinda hoping to
be let in, actually. It’s been a long journey, and—“
Rasmus
raised an eyebrow, apparently putting 2 and 2 together and then
asked, “Ah, you’re this year’s ‘otherworld’ champion,
aren’t you?”
“I...guess I am, yes.”
“Yeah well,
sorry to break it to you buddy, but while the royal court does demand
each region to supply a champion, there have been too
many...‘incidents’ involving the champions to allow them into the
town. You see, many people aren’t too fond of your kind.”
“Yeah,
I noticed. That was part of the reason, why I traveled
incognito.”
“Inco...what now? What’s that supposed to
mean?”
“Um, it means ‘hiding who I am’. People haven’t
exactly been friendly once they saw the crystal.”
“Yeah, I
can imagine. Most of the champions from the other regions are being
brought here by carriage, actually,” Rasmus stated and then, after
seeing my flabbergasted look at the sheer injustice of them being
brought here, when I had to walk for weeks and months, he quickly
added, “The kind of carriage you cannot open from the inside, if
you get what I mean.”
It took me a moment to realize what he
meant, but when I looked up and saw where we were heading, I knew
exactly what he meant. It wasn’t a ‘prison’ per definition, but
it was close enough. We were heading towards a walled section aside
from the main city. The gate we were heading towards to was under
guard by a grumpy looking soldier and the portcullis had been
lowered. Beyond the metal grate, I saw a bunch of run-down looking
houses, which clearly had their best days far behind them. I didn’t
see anyone behind, but all of a sudden, there was a loud wave of
cheer breaking against the walls, which seemed to vibrate from the
sound alone.
Rasmus sighed and said, “Well, welcome to your
new home, I guess. Look, you seem like a decent enough guy and I
really don’t know what you did to deserve getting sent here, but I
wish you the best of luck in there...and, if you should make it, out
there.”
He handed me off to the guard at the gate, who snorted, had the portcullis raised a little and then I got tossed into my new ‘home’, as they Rasmus lovingly had called it.
No, it
was not a prison. But it sure was a Ghetto, where all those you don’t
want in your squeaky clean city are being sent. The undesirable ones.
Those nobody wants to associate with.
The champions in the war
against the demon lord.
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