April is the summoned hero
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In the spaceless void between dimensions, in a pocket universe attached to a more standard-sized one, there is a room. 

The room looks different every time this happens. 

This time, the room is an office in soft colors, the walls powder blue, the desk a solid, rich mahogany, the carpet a plush cream you could sink into up to the ankles, and the chairs on either side of the desk both upholstered in a dark maroon and so plush you'd have to make a will save to get out of them. 

On one side of the desk is a woman in a pinstripe skirtsuit, hair up in a businesslike chignon, hands interlaced on the desk, smile kind but not intimate. 

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On the other side of the desk is a blonde girl, wearing a white sundress and an expression of confused suspicion.

 

After a moment, she says, "What."

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"Hello," the woman says. "I'm sorry for the confusion, but you see, we needed you, and you would otherwise be dead, so we thought this was probably better than the alternative."

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"...okay," she says. "That's. Nice of you. I guess."

She pauses, trying to think of a better question than 'what', and can't, and falls awkwardly silent instead.

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"Our world is in great danger," she says solemnly. "Every few centuries, a Demon Lord arises. In order to prevent the utter destruction of our way of life, it is necessary to summon a Hero in order to oppose them."

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"I, um," she says. "Um. Do you - what. How? What. Why me???"

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"As for why you exactly, I do not know," the woman says. "I know that the one who is chosen must be among the recently dead of those worlds from which we have the capacity to draw, and they must be someone capable of taking up the Hero's task. But what it is about you that makes you worthy is opaque to me." 

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"...great," she says. "Okay. How... do I hero, then."

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The woman makes a gesture as though plucking something from thin air, and then lowers her hands to the table, now laden with a sheathed sword. 

The sheath is polished redwood filigreed with gold, with tiny clusters of ruby along the filigree. The hilt of the sword largely matches, and when she draws the sword slightly to demonstrate what the blade looks like, it shimmers like opal, with a thousand intricate shades of silvery-gold and silvery-red and every color that could be made if fire fucked a bar of stainless steel. 

"This," the woman says solemnly, "is your Sword. A Hero's Sword is the surest way to take the life of a Demon Lord; they tend to be resistant to lesser measures." 

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"I don't... have any idea how to use a sword," she says, although that thing is gorgeous and her hand itches to pick it up.

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The woman smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "That happens, sometimes. Go ahead and pick it up anyway; nothing can be permanently harmed, here."

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Like fuck does she believe that. She does pick up the sword, but very very carefully, as though half expecting it to catch fire the moment it's in her hand.

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The sword does not in any way catch fire. The hilt fits her hand perfectly. 

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Okay! Magic sword! That's a thing that's happening, apparently!

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"Do you have any more questions?"

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"...I'm still pretty much at the 'what the fuck' stage here?"

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"You died--I admit I know not how--and the forces which guide the choosing of our fated Heroes selected you from among those recently departed, to bring you back to life here in this place, I know not precisely why. It is my duty to prepare you as much as possible for this role."

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"—are people normally—like, you do this a lot, apparently—do your fated Heroes usually have better questions than 'what the fuck' in the first five minutes? ...and if so, what are they?"

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"A lot of them want to know if they can go home. Some of them want to know things about the Demon Lord's tactical situation."

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"It honestly hadn't occurred to me that I might be able to go home. ...can I?"

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She shakes her head. "Not from here. It's possible from within the ordinary magic system of the world, but I cannot access it."

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"...fair enough I guess. Uh. What... besides the magic sword... do I get to help me fight the demon lord? Because if the demon lord is any good at being a demon lord and all I get is one magic sword then I think I'm pretty fucked actually."

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She gestured at the sword. "There is this, of course, but it is far from all. You will be equipped with Skills which allow you to function in combat well above the level which a native could confidently aspire to reaching without getting themselves killed. And the fact of being a Summoned Hero will cause mana to collect around you much more deeply than an average member of your species at your Skill level."

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"Side note, why do I keep hearing capital letters when you talk."

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"Skills are a metaphysical construct separate from ordinary skills. The Summoned Hero is a figure of singular importance--you are not simply an ordinary hero who happens to have been summoned, you are the Summoned Hero."

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"...okay, I... guess that makes sense? Um. Still kind of feels like I'm missing something."

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