The Hero

Rain poured down on a lone hooded figure standing under a dim streetlamp in the crowded parking lot. Inside of the large domed building before him. Hidden somewhere inside of the voluminous expanse of black cloth that made up his oversized hoodie was a young boy around fourteen years of age.

Travis Archenion stared out between two oversized bangs of mousy brown hair at the building before him, and especially at the securely locked metal shutter pulled down over the window of the ticket office. It wasn’t fair; this was to be his night, his first real step towards independence as well as his only chance to see Arcane Thunder, his favorite rock band of all time.

He’d finally convinced his parents to let him ride his skateboard across town to the event center, the entire savings of his young life tucked carefully deep into one of the wide pockets of his hoodie. It was to be his moment of glory, the event in which his entire life so far had been leading up to at this point…But his dream had come crashing down in an instant by the two words on the lonely sign that the ticket clerk had hung in the window moments before closing the shutter; “Sold Out”.

Travis finally sighed as he dropped the skateboard back on the ground with a light splash, placing a foot on it. He decided he might as well head back home as his body was starting to get as damp as his dreams despite the minimal protection his hoodie provided.

A sudden uproar from the building behind him made him hesitate as he looked back longingly towards the event center, the thunderous din from the crowd permeating from within the building. He checked his watch, the glowing green LCD display reading eight o’clock. The band would be taking the stage about now, and he was going to miss all of it…Or would he?

He came to a decision as he kicked his board back up into his hand, hurrying beneath the large metal awning over the lobby entrances. This was as much to finally get out of the rain as it was to get as close as he could to the music, even if he couldn’t physically see the band themselves. He walked tentatively up to the wall between two of the entrances, taking a deep breath as he carefully pulled down his hood and placed an ear against it.

He didn’t hear much besides the crowd at first, but as the sound of the crowd died down, finally he heard it. A single chord from a lone guitar reached his ear like a shot in the dark, taking his breath away. His heart hammered in his chest, his mind instantly going electric as it seemed like that one sound echoed into his very being, his soul itself. The music continued, and the surrealism of the moment further intensified as he recognized the opening of one of the band’s songs.

He closed his eyes and he was no longer just some wet, downtrodden kid on the streets, he was flying through a black void of lights and color. It felt like he was right there in front of the band’s frontman Alek Rayner himself as he shredded on the guitar.

All at once, the song ended and Travis was brought sharply back to reality by a large cheer from the crowd within. He sighed, deciding he’d hung out there long enough as he dropped his board and started coasting back out into the parking lot to make his way back home.

***

The next day, Travis was walking along the downtown area of his small town, not doing anything in particular. He lived fairly close by the area and didn’t always have to come right home after school, so he was mostly just killing time.

All at once, something caught his attention as his skateboard ground to a halt in front of a particular store he hadn’t noticed before. A faded hand-painted the sign announced the store as “Play It Again - Music and More”. It appeared to be something of a thrift store that specialized in music judging from the display of several instruments in the store window.

His mind immediately went back to the night before and the feeling the music of that one song instantly flooded back into his mind. He’d loved music his whole life and that experience and this store now in front of him was an awakening. He didn’t care what it took, he had to find a way to replicate that soul-shattering sound.

He instantly kicked his board up into his hand, heart hammering as he stormed into the store. A loud jingle sounded as the door slammed into the bell hung above it in his rush to burst into the store. The propietor of the store, a stout elder man, looked up in surprise at this unexpected new arrival. He was balding with a halo of wispy white hair that ran down into his full goatee giving the illusion of his head partially being obscured by a fuzzy white cloud.

“Well now,” the man said brightfully, adjusting the small round spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. "What appears to be the rush, young man? Looking for anything in particular?"

"Uh…No, not really…" Travis commented, suddenly a bit self-conscious of the reckless manner in which he'd entered the store. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any customers at the moment to bear witness to this blunder.

"I…I'm just looking," Travis trailed off as his attention was drawn to the long racks of guitars on display. As he made his way along, his previous embarrassment faded away as he was lost in a veritable forest of sound, Fenders, Gibsons, and Rickenbackers as far as the eye could see. 

He was brought harshly back to reality as he saw the price tags on the instruments and it felt like his heart was sinking clear into his stomach. He sighed as he managed to tear himself away from the racks of electric guitars before he saw a wall of acoustic guitars nearby. 

These were still pricey, but seemingly a much more realistic option with the money he had. He breathed a sigh of relief that his dreams might not be over just yet as he started to look around at these options. It wasn't too long until he saw it; at the end of the row was an old guitar with faded, slightly cracked wood. 

It might not have looked like much, but to Travis it looked beautiful, and it almost seemed to beckon him from there on the rack. He found himself almost involuntarily reaching for it as he picked it up from the rack and slung the strap over his shoulder. 

The instrument hung down lower on the worn strap than it was supposed to hang, but he found it comfortable. It seemed like this guitar was almost made for him with how natural it felt resting in his hands. He unslung the guitar as he turned it over in his hands, suddenly noticing a series of strange symbols carved into the back of it. He traced a finger along one of the symbols, finding it similar to the symbols Arcane Thunder themselves emblazoned on their instruments. 

He checked the tag, his heart leaping as he found it was only $30, which was easily within his budget with the money he'd saved up to that point. He quickly headed back up to the front of the store, carefully placing the guitar on the counter as he leaned his skateboard against the counter so he could pull out his wallet.

"I'll take this," he informed the owner as he carefully counted out the money for his purchase. "Hmm…Interesting, how very interesting…" the man said thoughtfully, looking over the guitar himself.

"What's interesting?" Travis asked, confused. "Oh, nothing…It's just that this guitar has been in this shop for a very long time, patiently waiting for whoever would be drawn to it…" the shop owner commented as he started to ring him up on an antique-looking cash register. 

He muttered something as he did so, and although he couldn't be sure, Travis thought he caught him muttering something along the lines, "Thought he might be taller". Travis brushed it off, almost completely focused on the guitar rather than a potential insult this man might have given him. 

As he took Travis' money and completed the transaction, the old man suddenly brightened up. "Oh, I almost forgot," he told Travis as he pulled out a small wooden box and opened it up to reveal an ornate guitar pick carved from wood with celtic braids and a symbol similar to the ones carved into the guitar etched into it.

"I can't just let you walk out without a proper way to play such an instrument!" he told the youth brightly as he placed the box carefully into Travis' palm. "Now, be very careful with this, that guitar and this pick are part of a set and they are never truly complete without the other…Take care of them, and they shall show you the way," the older man told him.

Travis stared at him a moment, unsure of how to respond to something like that. Before long, his gaze drifted down to the ornate wooden box containing the pick as he carefully closed the small box and slipped it into a pocket. He then slung the strap over his shoulder and slung the guitar along his back as he quickly left the shop, dropping his skateboard as he walked and stepping on it as he started to coast and make his way back home.

***

That night, Travis sat up in his room with the guitar in his lap, still hardly believing that it belonged to him. As he stared down at the guitar, it suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea of how to play it. He strummed it idly with his fingers for a moment, somewhat at a loss for how to proceed. 

It was then that he remembered the pick in the box in his pocket and what the store owner had told him about it. He pulled the wooden box from his pocket, opening it up as he pulled the pick from the box and looked it over. The pick and the guitar seemed so ordinary other than the carvings, but somehow he felt there was something more to them.

He hesitantly brought the pick to the strings, giving the instrument an experimental strum. A chill ran down his spine at the sound it produced, bringing back the same feeling he'd experienced when he'd heard the guitar the night before. He gave another strum before he started to properly play it, his fingers unconsciously dancing over the frets as he began to get lost in the sound.

Unnoticed by him as he continued to play, the strange symbols carved into the back of the guitar and on the pick were beginning to glow as he continued playing, seemingly empowered by the music. Travis himself seemed unaware of even what he was playing anymore, the only thing in his world at that moment was the music itself as it seemed to overtake all of his senses.

Faster and faster his fingers flew over the fretboard until they were a blur, his other hand strumming just as fast in time with it as the rest of the symbols started to glow. The glow intensified, bathing the room in an ethereal white aura as he played. Finally, he raised his right hand high above his head as he brought it down to release the final chord.

The glowing aura around him intensified further to a blinding white light as there was a sudden flash. As the glow faded and the light returned to normal, Travis, the guitar, and the pick he'd been playing with had vanished without a trace.

***

Travis blinked, scrambling to his feet as he finally stopped playing and realized he wasn't in his room anymore. It was still evening, the setting sun over the horizon staining the sky red in a crimson twilight, but he now found himself standing in a clearing near a forest, a vast mountain range looming in the distance.

He was torn from the shock of finding himself in this new environment by what sounded like arguing in a strange language approaching from somewhere in the forest. Whomever was inciting the argument talked in shrill, high-pitched tones, and from the sounds of it, it was about to get physical. 

As Travis watched, two diminutive creatures emerged from the forest, starting to shove each other along the ground as their argument escalated. Travis ogled at the two strange figures, who were somewhat humanoid in appearance, but were no taller than three feet tall. They had green skin and pointy ears with large, ugly noses. 

After a moment of staring at these strange newcomers,

Travis suddenly realized that he was staring at a pair of goblins. After a moment, the two goblins noticed Travis gawking at them as the two of them stared back at him in turn. 

Suddenly, one of them pointed at the boy as he screamed, "He has the axe!" and the two of them rushed towards him. Travis looked down, confused by the cry before his eyes widened as he looked down at his guitar; somehow, it had inexplicably transformed. 

Although it was still made of wood, it now resembled a warlock-style electric guitar, the symbols that had once been carved into the back of the instrument now proudly displayed along the guitar's face. Travis snapped out of his reverie as one of the goblins lunged at him with a small spiked club as he jumped out of the way. 

He then realized he was still holding his pick in his other hand as he came the first thing that came to mind and started to play the guitar once more. There was a flash as more ethereal light gathered around his guitar's body, the sound far from acoustic as it was an amplified, electric tone. Travis felt a surge of power as he played and before long the light had formed into a glowing ball around his guitar. 

He then turned to the goblin who'd attacked him, jumping towards him. He launched himself across the ground with a surprising amount of power as he did so, gripping the neck of his guitar as he brought it back like a baseball bat. Travis soon reached the goblin, swinging the guitar into it with all of his might. There was a flash as the glowing light surrounding the guitar burst, and the goblin was launched high into the air, its screams soon fading as it flew out of sight in the distance. Travis then turned to the other goblin, who started to panic as he turned to run, but Travis wasn't about to let him get away.

Pointing the guitar towards the fleeing creature, Travis raised his arm high as he brought it down, playing a powerful chord. Lightning shot out of the top of the guitar's neck as he did so, and the goblin screamed as the bolt struck it before it fell forward, unconscious. 

Travis stared at the smoking figure, his gaze gradually drifting from the goblin back down to the guitar. He then looked around, assessing his situation as he then saw lights in the distance and realized he was uphill from a town or city of some sort. He pulled the strap on his guitar as he slung it across his back once more, starting down the hill as he realized he might find someone who might have some answers for him.

He didn't know where he was or what had happened to him or his guitar, but he knew one thing for sure; he was going to keep on playing. No matter what, he felt like that was his destiny, and he wasn't about to stop now…He'd never stop playing and let the music guide him at whatever the cost.