As I swore my life to him, the slave crest flashed one final time. The lingering pain faded with the light, replaced instead by a strange... presence. Instinctively, I knew it to be the Hero. I could feel his warmth and strength, nudging me forward. The feeling reminded me of a compass, always pointing to him. Lost in contemplation, I jumped as he snatched my dress, which hung about my waist, and jerked it up.
"Ahh!" I stuttered, holding the garment tight about my chest. I quickly slipped my arms through the sleeves, which wasn't too hard considering how scrawny I was. How had I not realized I'd been half-naked the entire time?
I blushed a deep crimson and turned away. "S-Sorry, I-"
"It's alright," he said, "It's just part of the process." Although he said that, I could tell he was hiding a little red of his own.
An intrusive cough shattered the awkward atmosphere, coming from the Pope. They had been watching the whole time! I wanted to disappear into the ground, barely listening as he spoke.
"Take your slave to the chapel to be properly identified before evening. As she'll accompany you from here on out, take her to your lessons and activities. But," he said warningly, "don't forget her place."
"Yes, Father." he nodded.
The hero took the chain from Revera's hands. I fell behind him and we left the chapel. Behind us, I saw Revera whispering with the Bishop. As we passed through the doors, they looked looking over their shoulder as we left. Probably talking about the slave crest or something.
As the doors closed behind us, the Hero's shoulders slumped and he turned to me with a face full of concern. "Are you alright?"
"I think so," I replied, shivering. "Let's not do that again."
"Yeah. Oh, I've never had the chance to properly introduce myself! I was born Robert, but they gave me a new name too. Call me Soltair."
"Soltair," I whispered, relishing the sound of his name. "Do you know what my name means?"
His grin dropped and he wore a pained expression. "Kind of, but let's not talk about it now. I just got back from town, and haven't had a chance to change yet. I'd like to get out of this stuffy armor, if possible"
"Okay. But promise to explain things to me later?"
He flashed me a grin. "As you wish. Now, my room is this way."
I followed his lead, traversing several hallways. After descending another flight of stairs, we arrived at another wing of the Divine Throne. Unlike the previous corridors, which were plain and simple, these were wide and lavish, with potted plants and colorful curtains. Portraits of proper-looking figures were hung every couple dozen feet. Many of the paintings were gray and faded, and the dark eyes of the subjects seemed to follow me as we passed. I shivered as the condemnation of thousands of years carried through their lifeless gaze.
Sensing my discomfort, the hero slowed and gestured at the paintings. "The Popes of years long passed. The first task they gave me after I arrived a few months ago was memorizing all their names and accomplishments. You wouldn't believe how boring the history of this world is."
"They don't like me much," I said softly. "Why does everyone in this world hate me so much?"
"It's a long story, but-" Soltair suddenly broke off, eyebrows raised curiously. "This world?"
I covered my mouth, eyes wide and cowering. "I-I misspoke. Please, don't hurt me!"
"Hurt you?" he asked, flabbergasted. "Why would I do that?"
"It's just that... well, you see... I-I'm not from this world either. But when I brought it up, the slave woman beat me. That's why I almost died, back there," I admitted, still feeling nervous.
I shifted as he stared at me, looking anxiously for anger. After a few long seconds, he seemed to recover and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.
"You're a hero?" he asked carefully.
I nodded, still feeling cautious. "I awoke a few months ago but found myself captured as a slave. I was locked in a cage and starved, with no idea why. I tried to learn about where I was, but no one would listen to a slave. The warehouse..."
I felt tears come to my eyes, unbidden, as the story tumbled out. Soltair listened earnestly until the end when he arrived and pulled me from the darkness of the warehouse. "I-I never thought... to think you were from my world as well. Wait, what god is your patron?"
He frowned at my declaration. "Yeah, that's not good. You were the one cursed by the Sun God, right? This is probably the worst thing that could happen. He probably knows you're here already. We need to move."
Wait, what's going on?" I asked, but he was already gone.
His sudden departure caught me by surprise, but he kept a tight hold of my hand, half dragging me along. His pace was even faster than Revera's, and I soon found myself flagging. He turned, thinking for a second before doing the unimaginable.
"Hold tight," he said, suddenly scooping me up in his arms.
I squeaked and clung to his neck as he took off, moving rapidly through the halls. Priests scattered before us, frowning disapprovingly as we passed, but unwilling to rebuke the hero. I couldn't help but admire his strength, which seemed almost unearthly. He was around my same age, but much taller and extremely well-built. His armor was hard against my thin flesh, but his embrace was gentle and warm, making me feel like I was floating on clouds.
"This is worse than you think," he began, talking as he jogged, "Being a demonkin on top of the Fate Hero..."
I could feel his sigh reverberating through his chest. "The Sun God has given very specific instructions to restrict the use of Fate magic and all but erased her from the pantheon of the church. He leads the church as a whole in this world, making his word near absolute. With the excuse of you as a demonkin, he'll likely be able to remove you entirely."
"Remove me? Like, kill me?" I gasped.
"Yeah. but, if we can awaken you, there should still be hope. Once everyone knows you're a hero, they won't be able to act against you openly."
"What does it mean to awaken?"
"I'll explain afterward. We're here."