One Of Us

The king's arms reached out laterally, pointing to the dimmed hallways concealed by the night.

Without even so much as a peep coming from them, a long line of soldiers stepped out into the throne room, all with their own equipment and armor. 

"For this, you will amass four-person parties from these men here. The times ahead will be trying, so I encourage you use your best intuition when choosing your comrades--"

"We get to have our own party!?" 

Kaia's yell disrupted the king's speech, flames jutting out from her body to crips the air. 

She stomped forward, having no regard for the integrity of the floor below as she stepped to walk up and down the line, stopping to inspect the soldiers every 3rd or 4th person. 

"I urge that you be patient, hero, we must first develop an order for assembly..." the king muttered, his words completely bouncing off her ears as she stepped a few feet back.

"I want him, her, and her!" 

The king looked down, his face a little upset, but he hid it well with the smile that replaced it. 

"It is as you wish. May you have the greatest successes." 

He waved his hand, the three soldiers looking back up at him for just a moment before they stepped forward to greet Kaia. 

As the four stepped to the side to talk and introduce each other, Lucien stepped up immediately, crossing his arms.

"Then, allow me to go next. I already see three promising individuals--"

The words hallowing from the heroes and the king were slowly drowned out, Rowan's attention bouncing from one end of the room to the other. 

Ten, eleven, twelve...

Again. 

Ten, eleven... twelve...

"Wait, hold on, king! There's only twelve soldiers here! That doesn't add up, since there's five of us!" 

Rowan's eyes squelched as he felt his stomach rumble with an aching discomfort. 

Hope had lit up his world for just a moment, thoughts of being able to fight along his comrades in the backline. 

But as soon as he counted the number of soldiers, he realized that no matter what, one of the heroes would be left out. 

And, given his track record, it was obvious who that hero would be.

"Don't worry, Sir Rowan. In light of your... accommodations, we've built a separate, more fitting program for you. You will undergo personal tutelage to learn the ways of combat in this world, even without arcana. I am sure whatever purpose the gods have for you, it will be grand, but I can't risk sending you into combat without extensive training." 

Rowan fell into a deep pout, struggling to hold back his whimper while pulled his arm down to grip his grimoire. 

Damn it, why me? 

"King Viral, while Rowan may not be able to fight yet, his presence alone would be a great assurance to us heroes!" 

The one who shouted at the top of her lungs was Liora, throwing her fists back while leaning into her extended dominant leg to help allow her to project better. 

"What do you mean?" 

"She means that Rowan is a summoned just like us, and we are all of the same origin. I personally would feel much more at ease if he came with us, even if he weren't directly deployed into combat." 

Droplets of water gleamed in Rowan's eyes, the skin on his nose squeezing from his pained expression. 

Lucien spoke alongside Liora, stepping forward to match her prose. 

"Yes, I agree completely. Without him, I'm not sure that I could run into combat without fear weighing me down. I fear that death may follow if he doesn't accompany us." 

The next was Elias, standing upright with his arms by his side in line with the others.

"I don't know you guys well enough, but I do know that I perform better when my minions watch me fight!" 

Kaia's shout was the final straw breaking the king's composure, sweat drizzling from his cheek as he stepped back with his mouth agape in surprise. 

"O-okay, I understand now. You wish to stick together--commendable, and certainly a defining quality of heroes. But I simply cannot allow it." 

"Why," they all shouted, stomping the floor in unison. 

"Because this mission is endorsed by The Church of Echoed Light, and they have a rather... strong distaste for Rowan's status of hero. Trust me, if it were up to me, I would allow Rowan's presence as well, but that is simply not something I can allow you." 

He dipped down onto one knee, tipping his head with closed eyes. 

The heroes turned to each other, murmuring a number of grievances and apologies to Rowan, but the king's words did not stop.

"I apologize, but there is something else we can do." 

He looked up once again, pointing to the wall where a number of mystical armaments hung.

"The cloak of invisibility, a sufficient veil to conceal you from even the best seers in the world. Rowan can come along, but only if he wears it the entire time." 

"Really!" 

The one to shout was Rowan, his face lighting up with elation that he hadn't felt even once since he first entered the world. 

"Yes, but there's a catch," the king continued, standing up to step towards the long, black cloak, "you can't speak not even once while under its illusion, otherwise you risk diminishing its effects." 

The king reached his hand out, squeezing onto the cloak's fabric.

"And you certainly can't enter the battlefield, since magical beasts have acute senses for the aether unrivaled by any living human. And this is even further enhanced by their corruption through the Way. You are best off not going to begin with, but if you and the heroes truly wish for it, I simply cannot deny you." 

He tossed the cloak, leaving Rowan to catch it with his right hand. 

Fwip!

Rowan threw it over his shoulders, trying it on and watching as half his body disappeared, allowing him to see down into the ground that he himself concealed. 

"Thank you, King Viral. And yes, I accept this opportunity gracefully. I swear it, I'll return both this and me in one piece."