The legend Amon

The night sky hung over the dwarven castle like a blanket of dark velvet, studded with glimmering stars. As soon as Arin reached the castle, a group of knights STOPPED him, their faces stern and serious.

"The king has called you," one of them announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Arin followed the knights through the corridors of the castle. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting great battles and legendary figures, their eyes seemingly following him as he walked by. They reached a large, intricately carved wooden door On which the study was written. One of the knights knocked, and with a nod, sought permission to enter.

"Sir Arin has arrived," the knight announced.

The door creaked open, revealing the king's study. The room was dimly lit by a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the space. Several documents were spread haphazardly across a large, ornate desk, and shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink.

As Arin stepped inside, the king, a figure of imposing authority, looked up from his desk. "All of you can leave," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for defiance.

One of the shadows, a mysterious figure standing close to the king, hesitated. The king's eyes narrowed, and a palpable pressure filled the room, making the air seem heavy. "As you wish, my lord," the shadow whispered before slipping into darkness.

The weight on Arin's shoulders was immense, almost unbearable, forcing him to his knees. The king's fierce gaze bore into him, piercing through his very soul. "Boy, don't you think that despite being a human, you are being treated like a guest?" the king growled. "If it were not for your resemblance to him, I might have left you to rot in that prison. Now, my debts are paid."

The king rose from his chair and walked towards a window, its curtains billowing softly in the night breeze. He looked out into the distance, his expression thoughtful. "I was skeptical when I first saw you, but your demeanor, your lack of fear... it is the same as his."

The pressure on Arin's shoulders lifted, allowing him to stand. He looked at the king, confusion, and curiosity swirling in his eyes. "Who are you talking about?" he asked.

The king turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow at Arin's question. "Who else could I be talking about?" he replied, his voice tinged with respect and sorrow. "Amon, the legend, the first to reach the 9th class magician. The last hero who saved us from the invasion of the twelve demons on our planet Rlyntar and closed the Hell Gate."

Arin's eyes widened as he absorbed the king's words. He had heard tales of Amon, the legendary hero, but he had never imagined he would be compared to such a figure. The king continued, his tone reverent, "Amon was a beacon of hope, a symbol of courage and strength. His actions saved countless lives and secured our world from the horrors that threatened to consume it."

The room fell silent, the weight of the king's revelation hanging heavy in the air. Arin struggled to find his voice, overwhelmed by the implications of what he had just heard. "But... what does this have to do with me?" he finally managed to ask.

The king turned fully to face Arin, his eyes softening slightly. "You bear an uncanny resemblance to Amon, not just in appearance but in spirit. There is something about you that reminds me of him, and I cannot ignore it. Whether it is fate or coincidence, I do not know. But you are here now.

Arin's mind raced with questions, but one thought pressed forward above the rest. He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to ask, "Your Majesty, do you know where Amon is now?

The king's face darkened, his expression turning solemn. "Who would have known," he began, his voice tinged with sorrow, "he died by the hands of his species. He was known to connect with lost powers, yet he never killed a single one of those cowards. 'Tch,' " the king spat, a frown creasing his brow.

Arin's heart sank at the king's words. The hope he had clung to, the hope that Amon might provide answers about his past, about his parents, was dashed in an instant. Amon, the legendary hero, was gone, and with him, the last thread connecting Arin to his heritage.

The king turned back to the window, the weight of his memories clear in his eyes. "Amon was a hero, a savior. But even he could not escape the treachery of those who feared his power."

Silence filled the room, broken only by the distant sounds of the castle.

"Let me see what you choose from the treasury," the king commanded, his voice calm but with an underlying current of curiosity.

Arin reached into his pocket and pulled out the bracelet he had chosen. The moment it glinted in the dim light, the king's eyes widened in surprise.

"What less do I expect," the king murmured, almost to himself, "if you have gotten the thing which I tried looking for but never found. Yet, it seems you have it now."

Arin's mind raced. Was the king going to ask for the bracelet back? The thought of parting with the artifact filled him with unease.

The king seemed to read his thoughts. "I do not need it. You will find its use when the time comes."

Arin exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He felt a strange connection to the bracelet, a sense that it held more than just ornamental value.

The king returned to his seat, the weight of his presence filling the room once more. "I don't know how you came to be here, boy, but seeing you now, I think you are younger than I initially thought. You should try to get into Bralus Academy. I am sure you will be accepted there easily. Also, I have given my permission for you to learn swordsmanship from the captain knight. You may leave."

Arin maintained a composed exterior, but internally, his doubts and questions multiplied. There were so many things he wanted to ask, so many mysteries still unsolved, but now was not the time.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Arin said, bowing deeply. He turned and walked out of the study, the king's words echoing in his mind.