I got in queue and waited patiently for the people to get their papers checked. The process reminded me of a check-in at the airport, except that they didn’t have to take off their shoes and walk through a metal detector. Most were let in, but some were actually being turned away. Every now and then, one of the ones getting turned away started making a fuss, but that only lead to other guards showing up from seemingly nowhere and escorting the troublemaker away. The longer I waited and watched the proceeding, the more nervous I got about my own situation. After all, except for the magic crystal around my neck, I had no means whatsoever to authenticate myself. But then again, I was told by a government organization to come here. They wouldn’t have sent me here, if there was going to be a problem, right? Or at least have given me papers to authenticate myself.

When it was finally my turn, the guard on duty gave me a derogatory look and asked for my papers, apparently convinced, that I had none. Not that he was wrong about that, but being judged as ‘unworthy’ without even have said a single word still hurt. But that’s the thing about humans. They are quick to judge on appearances. Be it the gender, the color of the skin or the attire, people are being judged constantly. And I looked nothing like the people who got let in.
I pulled out the crystal from beneath my clothing and said, “I was told to come here.”
The face of the guard distorted in disgust and he muttered, “Ah, another one,” before shouting to one of his pals, “Oy, Rasmus, we’ve got another ‘Champion’ here. Even came on his own two feet this time, how’s that?!”
There was something very wrong with this statement and my heart sank. Weren’t the ‘champions’ supposed to be the saviors of the realm? Shouldn’t they be treated with respect? And yet, these guards acted, as if I, as a champion, was not even worth breathing the same air as them. It wasn’t long until I learned why that is though. Rasmus came walking from his post and asked me to follow him. He did it politely, sure, but without leaving the slightest doubt that I didn’t have much say in the matter. And he ushered me away from the front gate, where the guard looked after me with contempt in his eyes. At least I believe to remember that. I’ve never been good at subtext.

After a few steps, I worked up some courage and asked, “Excuse me, Mr...Rasmus, was it?”
“Yes?”
“I was kinda hoping to be let in, actually. It’s been a long journey, and—“
Rasmus raised an eyebrow, apparently putting 2 and 2 together and then asked, “Ah, you’re this year’s ‘otherworld’ champion, aren’t you?”
“I...guess I am, yes.”
“Yeah well, sorry to break it to you buddy, but while the royal court does demand each region to supply a champion, there have been too many...‘incidents’ involving the champions to allow them into the town. You see, many people aren’t too fond of your kind.”
“Yeah, I noticed. That was part of the reason, why I traveled incognito.”
“Inco...what now? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Um, it means ‘hiding who I am’. People haven’t exactly been friendly once they saw the crystal.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Most of the champions from the other regions are being brought here by carriage, actually,” Rasmus stated and then, after seeing my flabbergasted look at the sheer injustice of them being brought here, when I had to walk for weeks and months, he quickly added, “The kind of carriage you cannot open from the inside, if you get what I mean.”
It took me a moment to realize what he meant, but when I looked up and saw where we were heading, I knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t a ‘prison’ per definition, but it was close enough. We were heading towards a walled section aside from the main city. The gate we were heading towards to was under guard by a grumpy looking soldier and the portcullis had been lowered. Beyond the metal grate, I saw a bunch of run-down looking houses, which clearly had their best days far behind them. I didn’t see anyone behind, but all of a sudden, there was a loud wave of cheer breaking against the walls, which seemed to vibrate from the sound alone.
Rasmus sighed and said, “Well, welcome to your new home, I guess. Look, you seem like a decent enough guy and I really don’t know what you did to deserve getting sent here, but I wish you the best of luck in there...and, if you should make it, out there.”

He handed me off to the guard at the gate, who snorted, had the portcullis raised a little and then I got tossed into my new ‘home’, as they Rasmus lovingly had called it.

No, it was not a prison. But it sure was a Ghetto, where all those you don’t want in your squeaky clean city are being sent. The undesirable ones. Those nobody wants to associate with.
The champions in the war against the demon lord.