Unchosen Champion

The entire galleon lurched as Coop launched his spear from the bow. The spear raced over the sea, invisible against the dark backdrop of the night, but with the sound of it tearing through the air making it obvious that something was moving fast, but only after it had already passed.

Coop timed his mistjump so that the spear didn’t accidentally blow a hole through the cruise ship, aiming to teleport above the open rear deck instead, where, in past times, vacationers would have enjoyed relaxing by pools and hot tubs with tropical drinks and music playing. This was meant to be a scouting and potential rescue mission, so he didn’t need to jump in with guns blazing.

From his perspective, the world transformed into monochromatic mists as time slowed and he was dragged toward the missile. The black sea melted into the black sky, but the horizon was illuminated by the white glow of mists as his teleport shoved him through space. After only a few seconds, the spear was firmly held in his hand while he fell from forty feet above a partially emptied pool in the cruise ship’s central gallery. He fell between more than a dozen deck balconies on either side that overlooked what was essentially a mall full of lounge areas.

When he landed, one of his feet and his other knee crashed through the synthetic teak decking, adjacent to the pool, cracking the planks with enough force to alert anyone nearby of his abrupt arrival. He held his shield protectively, anticipating an attack. The spear that brought him to the cruise ship was held tightly in his hand as he prepared to retaliate. Coop was completely surrounded.

Rather than attacks, gasps and mumbling came from all directions as Coop found himself encircled by people, wearing dirt-stained clothes, huddled against each other as they balanced against the ship’s one sided tilt. There were groups of hundreds of people leaning against each other, watching from each of the upper decks, hanging onto railings, and otherwise looking more like stowaways that had squeezed into whatever space they could find than a potential fighting force.

It was clear that none of them had any inclination to fight, so Coop relaxed before he scared them any further, yanking his foot out of the hole he created in the floor and standing up straight. He almost demanded to be taken to their leader, but caught himself from sounding like he came from another planet. Instead, in his hesitation, he started to recognize the mumbling for actual words as a consensus slowly built among the witnesses of his arrival. Using his aura, he thoroughly scanned the crowd, discovering that none of them were far above level 25 and many were as low as level 10. These people didn’t have much chance of survival on their own.

“It’s the Nomad!” Someone whispered clearly, hissing louder than the rest of the murmuring, as if they had a revelation. “The Nomad!” Another repeated from behind Coop as they arrived at the same conclusion. “No, the Nomad is seven feet tall and music plays wherever he goes.” Someone adamantly disagreed. “The Nomad carries a glowing sword and has angel wings.” Another added, but the rabble’s excitement started to build, and Coop had no idea what was going on. “The Nomad! It must be!” The voices were coming from all around and people started a slow surge toward him, like they were desperately parched and he held water. “Nomad!”

“Hold on.” Coop demanded, raising his arms, still holding his ethereal equipment, to ward them off, and to his surprise, they all stopped. The whispering about how the Nomad was there on the boat and that they had a chance after all continued, unabated. They questioned each other as to where he had come from, how he had found them, and on and on, but they all kept their voices low, as if they didn’t want to disturb him directly.

Coop pointed at a middle-aged man who had clear eyes as he stood in front of two children and their parents, pressed against some railing at the head of the mostly empty, tilted pool. He was level 26, among the highest in the crowd. “You.” Coop got his attention. The man pointed at himself and Coop nodded. “Tell me who you all are and what’s going on.”

“Uh,” He looked around and others nodded at him encouragingly whispering for him to speak with a cascade of support. “We were residents of Empress City.” He began, taking courage from the crowd. “The revolutionary army took us in and protected us during the siege event. A few days ago, once it became clear they were losing the civil war, they evacuated us and prepared to make their last stand.”

“Where are you going?” Coop wondered, temporarily forgetting his mission as he faced a curious situation. These people weren’t fighters at all. They were more like refugees.

“To find safety!” Someone shouted from an upper deck balcony, high above Coop. “To find the Nomad! He’ll save us!” Someone else shouted from the opposite side and dozens more agreed from all around. “He saved all those other people! He’ll help us!”