Almost the Chosen One

Season 1 - Episode 23: The Chosen Ones

I wasn’t looking forward to a return trip to Hathwane. Our last visit got Steve and I into the garbage ball of a mess we still hadn’t climbed out of. Even with Tarialla agreeing to go with us as backup, I still wasn’t confident our trip wouldn’t end up in disaster.

Anxiety fluttered in my chest the moment we got back into the wagon and urged our horse back onto the jostling path through the forest.

By the time we’d reached the hills that led to town, my mind had already spun through worse case scenarios of what awaited us there.

Steve did not share my apprehension. At least, he wasn’t acting like it. Maybe because his elf crush Tarialla sat next to him on the drivers bench throughout the trip and he was trying to play it cool. Either that or with his swiftly improving skills as an axe-wielder, he’d gained delusions of grandeur.

“There it is.” Steve pointed ahead as we crested a high hill. “Castle Hathwane.”

The mid-morning sun shone brightly on the ivory towers of the large castle on the horizon. Blue banners ascended from the towers, waving in the soft winds as if to welcome us to our doom.

“Tarialla, do you know this Klarvik guy?” Steve said. “I mean, I know he’s a big dude but is he a good fighter? Like, if things get ugly, do you think I could take him?”

“What?” I said. “Are you crazy? We’re not here to fight. He has thugs with him, remember?”

“I’m not saying I want to start a fight,” Steve said. “I’m just wondering if I can finish it if he gets all up in my face.”

“Wow.” I shook my head. “Who are you right now? Listen, thug life, this isn’t a game. We need to get in, stay cool, and get out in one piece. Got it?”

Steve put his hands up. “Okay, jeez, I’m just asking questions.”

“Your speech continues to be a mystery,” Tarialla said. “The culture of Stemsfork must be quite different. I shall have to visit one day.”

“Oh, right. Stemsfork.” Steve nodded his head. “Where we’re from, of course. Yes, it is different.”

“Indeed,” she said. “Regarding Klarvik, I wouldn’t underestimate him. Or his men for that matter. They are seasoned warriors of the heroes guild. But don’t fret. I’ll be observing your interaction in the tavern. Should speech turn to arms, I will fight by your side.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Steve held up his hand for a high five.

Tarialla stared at his hand, looking confused.

“Oh,” Steve said. “Stemsfork tradition. You slap my hand when I raise it. Like you’re in agreement.”

“Ah. I see.” Tarialla gave Steve’s hand a hard slap.

Steve winced and shook his hand. “Yeah. Kind of. Not as hard though.”

“Understood.”

We rode past the farmlands at the outskirts of town until we reached the entrance of Hathwane. We left our horse and wagon at the stables outside and headed down the main cobblestone road into town.

The marketplace opened up before us with rows of merchant stands at either side of the street. The mid-morning crowd was alive with activity. Tarialla led the way through the throng of citizens, many of whom stepped quickly aside for the stoic elven warrior brushing past them.

“Hey,” Steve said. “I smell fresh bread. Maybe we should stop for a bite.”

Tarialla glanced back. “We’ve already had our morning meal.”

“Yeah, but that was hours ago,” he said. “I mean, are you smelling that bread? My mouth is watering.”

Tarialla smirked. “I do enjoy your jester’s tongue. Perhaps on our return trip, yes?”

“Deal,” he said.

As we reached the far end of the marketplace, the tavern came into view.

Tarialla stopped and turned to face us. “I’ll go in first. Allow enough time to pass so our connection is not suspected. Then, we wait for Klarvik to arrive.”

“Got it,” Steve said.

She turned and strode toward the tavern.

Steve waited a beat, then leaned closer. “How long do you think we’re supposed to wait?”

I shrugged. “Maybe five minutes?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

“By the way,” I said. “What’s with the whole, ‘can I take down Klarvik’ routine? Are you trying to impress your elf girl or what?”

“No, I’m actually curious. I’ve gotten a lot better with this axe lately. And after we took out those death hunters, I don’t know, I’m feeling way more confident about things.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s crazy what we’re able to do now. We’ve got these new skills but let’s be real. I work in a comic book store. You’re an assistant librarian. We’re lucky to still be alive after what we’ve been through.”

“No, I know all that, but things are different,” Steve said. “I feel different. Like maybe this was supposed to happen. Like I’m supposed to be here doing what I’m doing. Don’t you feel it?”

“What I feel is that we need to get out of this world before we die. There’s dragons here. Actual dragons. No matter how fast our skills are improving, we’re out of our league.”

Steve took a deep breath, scanning the crowd around us. “I don’t know, man. There’s something else. Like, sure, I want to get home safe but there’s something going on here that we’re a part of. Something good that we can do before we leave. What if there’s a reason we’re here?”

As much as I wanted to deny it, Steve hit on an intuition I had when we first arrived and began our training. Once I experienced the thrill of using elemental magic, something awakened deep inside me. Like a desire I never even knew I had.

But ever since we landed in one dangerous situation after another, I’d buried that intuition and focused on staying alive and getting away from this world. No matter what secondary desires churned within me, the desire for self preservation blew them all away.

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “I do feel something but it’s probably just because we’re huge fantasy nerds. All those role playing board games and video games over the years have probably put some crazy thought in our heads that maybe we could be the hero one day. Most likely some adolescent dream. Maybe it just means we need to grow up and get therapy. It doesn’t mean we should follow some weird impulse to be heroic and get ourselves killed, right?”

Steve shook his head. “You’re overthinking it. It’s not some teenage wish. I’ve had enough of those to know the difference. There’s lives at stake here and we can help. With these new abilities we have, with the way we can improve much faster than the people from this world, that’s an amazing gift. And we shouldn’t throw that gift away because we’re scared to use it.”

I paused. “Okay, that was actually pretty cool. I can’t believe you just came up with that.”

“I know, right? I felt it though. I wasn’t just trying to be all Aragorn or whatever.”

“We just need to think this through, man. I don’t want to act on some impulse that I don’t understand.”

“Got it. Right,” Steve said. “Analysis before action.”

“Yes. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay. But first things first. We should probably head into the tavern now. I think enough time has passed.”

“Agreed.”

As we turned to go, a tall, cloaked figure with a long, gray beard blocked our path. A chill went through me at the realization it was Lord Feskril, King Dormont's advisor.

Lord Feskril planted an ebony staff in the ground. A ruby mounted on the top of the staff sparkled in the sunlight. Four armored guards closed in behind him, their spears held at the ready.

Two crows fluttered down from the sky and landed on Lord Feskril’s shoulders. The crows stared at us with glowing, red eyes.

“Well, well, the chosen ones have returned,” Lord Feskril’s thin lips twisted into a wicked grin. “I’m sure King Dormont is anxious to hear all about your quest to bring him the head of The Red Arrow … I hope for your sakes, you’ve completed the task.”

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