The Kingdom's Summoned

"You're... not here to kill us?"

Rowan's mouth formulated into a gaping 'O' as his eyes widened, instinctively stepping back as the person spoke, or rather, whispered their inquiry.

The purple-haired gal whom Rowan had been holding onto stepped forward, letting go of his hand as her chest pumped forward, the previous shaking he'd felt in her limbs dissipating in a near-instant.

"I mean, the way you projected your killing intent, it seemed as if you would attack us at a moment's notice."

Her too, huh? What is it with everyone having this strange attentiveness to 'intent'?

Even when the man first walked forward to present himself, it never felt for a moment that he had any intentions of harming them, although Rowan too could feel a strange warmness overcome him at the man's mere presence.

Perhaps these guys are just more acutely aware than he is.

"Oh, I can assure you I had no intention of harming you, although you might've mistaken my residual arcana as killing intent, proofs of the worthy esteem you heroes hold!"

"What do you mean?"

Again, spoke the black-haired teen, his limbs spasming, fighting gravity with all of his being, just barely losing as his arm slipped after mere moments, his body following suit to making a resounding 'thud'.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to go so hard, but your onslaught was just so sudden."

Following the conclusion of his apology by mere moments was an instantaneous shift in atmosphere, Rowan's skin lighting up to a luminescent green.

As soon as the corridor was lit up with green, his limbs began to bulge with life, veins popping out along his forearm as a deep red ran along different columns of his muscle and skin.

Rowan looked down at his palms, feeling the warmth and comfort engulf his entire body as minor aches in his joints attenuated and eventually disappeared, every fiber of his being pulsing with vigor.

"What is this..." he muttered under his breath, his eyebrows contorting closer to each other with his eyelids half-closed as his puzzlement expressed through his face.

"This is Kido, a Way that I'm sure you'll get acclimated to once you've settled into this world, but for now, let us make haste to the king."

"Wait, you still haven't answered my question!"

The black-haired teen, now yelling, took his stand before his yellow-haired companion.

He knuckled his fists, veins protruding out from his skin with such great volume that the skin had to stretch itself thin.

"What exactly is this world? Why do I keep having this weird sensation when I'm standing next to you!"

His words tumbled out so fast that Rowan's head buzzed, his ears beginning to ring as each phrase slammed into his brain faster than he could process.

"Uh... I understand how restless you heroes must be, but I assure you, your questions will be answered in due time. But for now, I ask that you follow me."

The man's eyes were now closed, his palms open in front of him in a swaying back-and-forth motion. His mouth had a small smile etched into the crevices of his cheeks, invoking a warm, fuzzy feeling in Rowan's chest.

The teen relaxed his palms, the bulging veins returning to their normal state as the diffused red coloration in his wrists retreated.

"Al... alright."

All five of the summoned roughly formed into a line as they stood behind the man, a couple adopting neutral facial expressions while the rest of them--Rowan included--had creases in their temples, their eyebrows shot up, eyes narrowing in silent questioning.

The man quickly turned around, raising his arm up and gesturing his pointer finger forward.

As they all made their silent pursuit, Rowan's foot stretched before him as the tiles stretched, each heartbeat feeling twice as long. As this continued, an involuntary tightening of his chest formed.

"How long is this damn corridor?"

"I don't know, but I think it's in our best interests to comply with whatever this man says."

The two speaking were the redhead and the black-haired kid, the sound of grinding teeth pulsating from the girl's mouth.

He was right. Considering how easily this man was able to beat them down, even if they wanted, there was no way they could escape with their lives--although Rowan didn't like the prospect of his fate being victim to the passing whim of another.

Rowan looked a bit to his left, the feeling of blind curiosity overwhelming his being.

There stood the purple-haired girl, her eyes closed and her mouth forming a smile.

After what felt like mere moments, she opened her eyes, turning her head directly towards Rowan and looking straight into his eyes.

Rowan jolted his head back, quickly circumventing her eye contact and looking elsewhere in the opposite direction.

"You know, I never thanked you."

"Hm?"

The tension in Rowan's muscles dispelled as the first words came out of her mouth, his raised shoulders and straightened back relaxing into a more natural position.

"For saving me. I was frozen back there, yet you were able to grab my hand and escort me away from danger."

Her face was drooping, her eyes again closed.

Looking upon her resolute smile, a light, hopeful hand touched upon Rowan and welled a happiness in him, remembrances of early life with his mother bubbling up in extremities of the soul he hadn't even known he possessed.

"Truthfully, I didn't do it for you. I simply thought that if I were able to drag you away to safety, I would've had better chances at survival than being by myself."

"Even so, I thank you. I've never had someone stick out their neck for me like that, and especially with such resolve."

Woah!

She stuck both her hands out, pulling in Rowan's own and softly embraced it.

Rowan quickly retracted his arm, the resultant inertia causing it to dash past the right side of his body.

"Y-Y-yeah, no problem..."

Grabbing his wrist with his right hand, Rowan looked down on where her hands contacted his own.

I'll never wash this hand again.

"Sire, I have brought the prophesized heroes before you now."

"Good, good, leave us Corien, and go tend to the fallen mages."

"Yes, my liege."

What lay in front of them was a large throne, a hulking, powerful man rested on it.