The Chosen
by Shelly Jarvis
The Chosen
Shelly Jarvis
Copyright 2011 by “Shelly Jarvis
Smashwords Edition
The wisdom crowned upon thee will lead thee to the peace,
From childhood grace has touched thee, and only will increase,
Though troubles grabbed thee in thy youth, compassion does abound
Thy gift is in thy patience, which leads thee to thy crown
Thy hasty mouth will quarrel, but never will speak lies
Thy quiet mouth won’t utter, until the need arise
With strength and valor thou wilt fight, to reach the final prize.
Prologue
He stood upon the hill overlooking a deep valley. The valley was full of tall grass, normally golden and shining in the sun, but today it was stained crimson and told of an encounter that did not end well. Behind the man the dull gray sky was barren of clouds and any sign of the light that normally comes with a new day. The night had ebbed away just as the last surviving warriors had made their way into hiding before the sunrise.
There were two suns that warmed the Ipnala Star System. One would have been enough to light the skies and warm the land, but two made the light blinding and the heat unbearable. The small disk that was the second sun to rise was called Delight, for it was distant and the people could still enjoy its light after the larger sun had set. The first sun was known as the Golden One, and was regarded as a curse upon the people. The Golden One would rise first and would burn their skin if they did not hide before it drifted into the sky.
Because of the Golden One, most everything was done at night, including the fighting of the battles. The war that was currently plaguing Burac, the third moon of Remli, was the only war that had ever been waged. Peace had reigned since the making of the worlds and it was only now, after many millennium of calmness that the peoples were fighting. This war had continued for years already with no sign of an end. Death had enveloped more lives than could be counted, and each day more were shedding their blood for a cause long lost.
“Today will be different,” said the man on the hill.
He looked out into the valley where the blood drenched the trampled grass, then over to the caves where the people had taken shelter waiting for the suns to rise. They did not know that today they need not be afraid of the Golden One, nor did they know that the Golden One would never rise again.
Book I
Providence Unfolds
Chapter One
Meeting
She slid her long, slender fingers along the cool stone wall. Her pale hand seemed to glow against the dull gray stones. Beneath her bare feet she could feel that the ground was dry and still warm from the heat of the day. Even in the late parts of the night, when the stars shone bright in the sky, the heat did not fade. She had walked only a short way, clad in a thin white nightgown, but the heat had already begun to cause her to perspire and the gown was beginning to cling to her gentle form.
Past the wall and through the gate she went, slowly, to catch every sight and sound the night could offer, but deliberately, as if something was pulling her closer. She strolled past the tall oak tree in the front yard, remembering how her father had pushed her in the now broken swing that hung on the lowest branch. She could almost see him standing there in his dirty white work shirt and his hair mingled with sweat clinging to his tanned forehead. He was laughing, always laughing, as he enjoyed the evening breeze with his little girl. Mother would bring lemonade and they would sit on the front porch holding one another tightly while little Dawn picked flowers in the meadow or ran through the grass playing hide and seek with her little brown and white spotted dog, Woogie, and her imaginary friend, Lucy.
“Look at our baby,” Elisabeth would say to Tom as they watched her running through the grass.
“She won’t be a baby much longer,” he would say.
Dawn walked up the stone walkway and onto the creaking steps of the wooden porch. It was no longer white and clean and ringing with laughter, but instead was weathered and grimy, offering only a cruel glare with each step. She reached down and grasped the door handle and turned. The door opened with little effort. She felt as if someone was expecting her tonight.
She stepped into the main entrance hall where Mama had always welcomed their guests and Daddy had always placed the fresh flowers his little girl had picked. To her right was the parlor. It had once been Dawn’s favorite room in the house, until the morning she found him there.
She was six years old when it happened. She bounded down the stairs on an early Saturday morning. Mama was upstairs at her vanity table combing her long dark hair and humming a song no one had ever sung before, and Daddy would have left for work about an hour ago. She headed for the kitchen to pour some cereal. It would be a full day, like most summer days, with lots of doll playing and skipping though the flowers and maybe, if she was lucky, Daddy would come home early from the fields and they would go swimming in the creek down by the woods. She carried her bowl and milk to the table and sat down facing the parlor room. It was the lit lamp in the corner that first caught her attention. Then she noticed something that made her heart leap with excitement: there was a tuft of golden hair sticking up from the top of Daddy’s favorite chair.
“Daddy!” she had yelled. “You stayed home today! We’re going to have so much fun!”
She forgot her cereal and ran to his chair, kneeling by his side. He was lying back against the cushion, newspaper folded neatly on his lap. His eyes were open but he wasn’t moving. She poked at his arm. He didn’t move. She stood and backed away from the chair, eyes wide and mouth gaping.
“Daddy,” she whispered, though her soft voice sounded deafening in the silence that had overtaken the room.
She backed away from the chair and towards the main hall. Her mother was coming down the stairs. Her footsteps were so loud and pounding that Dawn had to cover her ears to stop the noise.
“What’s wrong baby?” her mother asked gently.
Tears began rolling down her cheeks in streams she could not control. She turned to see her mother’s kind face. She could say nothing. Nothing seemed to be right at the moment. She watched her mother’s eyes move from her tearful face into the parlor. She watched, as her mother’s glowing face seemed to melt to despair as she ran to the parlor and fell by her husband’s feet.
“Tom!” she cried. “Tom, no Tom. Wake up. Please wake up.”
The house was full of people for the next few days, cooking and cleaning and trying to make the best of things. Mama stayed in bed for days and wouldn’t eat or talk to anyone. She just cried and slept. No words seemed to change her expression. One afternoon Dawn went into her mother’s room and crawled into bed with her and they cried together. They only lived in the house where Daddy died until the funeral was over, then they packed all of their belongings, except for Daddy’s favorite chair, which they burned in the back yard.
“It smells sweet,” Dawn said as she watched the smoke drift upward into the sky.
“Like lemon-drops,” Elisabeth said softly as she held her daughter’s tiny hand.
The blue fabric of the chair was burning quickly, fading away as the evening closed, but the pain of Tom Volga’s death didn’t burn away with it.
After the funeral, Elisabeth and Dawn moved into the caretaker’s cottage on the edge of the property. It wasn’t as big as their house, but it was comfortable enough for the two of them. They never went into the old home again and Dawn always walked the long way around the property to avoid seeing it.
The cold dark door to the parlor would stay closed tonight. She had not gone into that room after the morning of Daddy’s funeral, and tonight would not be different. Besides, she had more pressing business upstairs, though she wasn’t sure exactly what that business was. There was a small table by the door with a candle and a match on it. Someone had left it for her. She lit the candle and began upstairs.
The stairs were dark and the small candle in her hand just dimly lit her blackened path. The wood stairs creaked as she stepped. She guided her hand along the rough surface of the wall to steady herself on each small step. As the top of the stairs came into view she inhaled sharply, anxiousness filling her as she approached the landing.
As she stepped into the upstairs hallway a small gust of wind from an open window at the end of the corridor extinguished her candle and left her in darkness. Slowly she began to make her way down the corridor away from the window, one hand in front of her reaching into the silent black air and the other fumbling against a wall assuring her she was still in the hall. Even as her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she saw nothing.
With every small deliberate step her heart seemed to beat with more intensity. An unknown force was drawing her, beckoning her through the darkness, tugging at her very being. A small sliver of light trickled onto the floor a few feet ahead. Her shaking hand fell against a smooth wooden surface. Instinctively reaching at waist level, she slid her hand onto the doorknob, which felt cool beneath her fingers.
Quietly she turned the knob and slid the door open to peer inside. Her eyes were greeted by the soft light of a lamp in the corner of the room. She saw no one inside, but traces of a recent visitor were evident. The air was tainted with the smell of aftershave used liberally, and a small glass containing a bit of brown liquid still sat placidly on a small wooden end table beside of a cushy blue armchair. She was in her father’s old study.
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her cotton nightgown played gently against her skin as she glided through the dim room. A book lay open at the foot of the armchair. She sat down and reached for the book. It was thick and bound in leather. The pages were slightly yellowed and smudged with dirty fingerprints, but the edges still glowed gold as they caught the faint light of the fire. She delicately lifted the book to her lap and turned the book over so the front cover faced her. She slid her hand along the cover where a tarnished gold seal sat idly. She opened the book, flitting through the pages and occasionally stopping to look at a picture that caught her eye.
Midway through she stopped, peering dumbfounded into the book, staring at something that could not be there. On the page before her was a picture of a young woman with dark brown hair tied messily upon her head, sitting in a blue armchair, holding a large leather book with a gold seal upon the front. There was a faded caption under the picture that read, “Dawn’s first glimpse of Providence.”
She turned the page in disbelief. She was there again, yet somehow she appeared different in this photo, older. She was wearing a light green tunic with black pants and a black cloak trimmed in gold rested on her shoulders. She was wearing thick black boots covered in red mud. Her hair was pulled into a long ponytail in the back with two ringlets around her face, which had a small cut on her left cheek but was otherwise as happy and fair as ever. She stood next to a tall man whom she had never seen before. His hair was thick and golden like wheat shining in the sun, and he smiled as if he’d never seen a worry in his life. Under the photo it said simply, “Dawn and James.”
Dawn continued to flip through the pages, reading captions here and there describing her life that she had not yet lived, showing companions she had never met. This was certainly some joke, a farce by some unseen prankster. She glanced around the room searching for someone quietly laughing about their prank. She squinted, trying to see into the dark corners of the room, yet no one appeared. Then again, how could anyone have known she would be here tonight, reading this book? Even she was not quite sure how she had come to be here. In fact, the more Dawn considered this, the more confusing it became. She remembered this house from her youth, but how had she gotten here tonight?
“Dawn.”
She turned. No one was there.
“Dawn.”
Someone, something was touching her, shaking her, but she couldn’t see it.
“Dawn!”
She woke to see her mother standing above her, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Dawn groaned. Only a dream, yet so clear, so vivid it still rested in her mind. She looked up at her mother and forced a smile, then stretched her arms above her head.
“Are you all right? You look shaken?”
“I’m fine mother. I was just dreaming when you woke me.”
“Well,” she said, her grim expression fading slightly as she took on her most motherly tone, “put away your silly dreams girl. You have Meeting today.”
Her mother stood to leave the room. She was still as lovely as she had been when Dawn was a child, but her eyes were not as bright as they once were, and years of worry had marked her face with wrinkles. She smiled at Dawn.
“I’ve placed your turquoise tunic on your dresser. You will be the most beautiful girl at Meeting today,” she said proudly. “Today you will become a Chosen One.”
“Mama, please,” she said roughly. “If I am old enough to be a Chosen One, I think I can manage to choose my own tunic.”
Dawn looked at her mother with her most adult expression, and received a knowing look in return, cautioning her to be on her best behavior.
“But I do like that tunic best,” she said, smiling. “Why must I go to Meeting today anyway? I don’t want to be a Chosen One. I just want to stay here with you.”
“Oh my darling,” her mother said, “to be a Chosen One is a great honor. Everyone at Meeting will want to be a Chosen One, but you are the special one today. You should feel excited.”
“Oh
Mama,” she sighed, “I don’t feel special. I don’t feel like
much of anything.”
“What’s troubling you, Dawn?” she
asked as she sat down on the bed beside her daughter.
“I dreamed about Daddy,” she said softly. “I was in the old house again and I was remembering him there. I remembered finding him.”
“Oh honey,” she said, pulling her daughter close. “Sometimes it hurts to remember what we’ve lost. But your memories are keeping your father alive. No matter how much it may hurt to think about losing your father, it still makes me smile when I remember having him by my side.”
“I know Mama, I know. But it’s just so hard to live without him. It’s not fair.”
“I know baby. It isn’t fair.” She put her hands onto Dawn’s face and lifted it to meet her eyes. “Your father was a Chosen One,” she said, smiling.
“Really?” Dawn asked.
“Really,” her mother replied. “He served as a young man, just barely older than you are now. That is how we met. I lived in Laseaux, on the planet Adulia, with my family and Tom came for some training. My father, your grandfather, was teaching the class. He had been a Chosen One as a young man as well, and continued to teach until shortly before his death. My father loved Tom right away, and one night after training he invited him over for dinner. After dinner I took Tom out to show him the grounds and that night under the moons I fell in love with your father.”
“Wow,” Dawn said. “You’ve never told me about you and Daddy when you were young.”
“There are a lot of stories about your father that you need to hear. I have just been working so hard to forget the hurt of losing him that I haven’t realized how you must feel not getting to know him.”
There was a pause in which both mother and daughter seemed to understand each other, as if for the first time.
“So Daddy and grandpa were both Chosen?” Dawn asked after a moment. “I guess it kinda runs in the family?”
“It does,” her mother said, smiling. “I know that you don’t really want to go today, and maybe I’m pushing you too hard, but being a Chosen One is something your father and I always wanted for you. I will leave the decision to you.”
“Well,” Dawn began, “maybe I should just go and check things out. I mean, it is a family tradition, and who am I to break that?”
“Well, if you insist,” her mother said with a smirk.
“Thanks Mama.”
Her mother stood, smiled, and strolled out of the room.
Dawn got out of bed and walked to her dresser. She put on the turquoise tunic with the silver embroidery that her mother had laid out for her. She slipped on a pair of thin black pants underneath, followed by a pair of short black boots with silver buckles. She combed her thick brown hair and tied it back with a silver ribbon. As she turned to catch a quick glance of her appearance in the mirror, she couldn’t help but remember the picture she had seen in her dream. It was very similar to the girl standing there now. She turned and walked towards the door. The smell of pancakes floated in from the kitchen and told Dawn that today would be a good day. It was time to go to Meeting.
Chapter Two
The Test
The sun was bright as Dawn emerged from the house and into the warmth of a fresh spring day. Woogie was lying in the grass sunning his white belly, leisurely snapping at the butterflies that floated by his wrinkled face. She turned to see her mother in her bedroom window, smiling and waving goodbye. She smiled at her mother and turned towards the road. The wind was blowing gently and carried the sweet smell of fresh flowers in bloom. There was a newness in this spring that Dawn had never known in years past. Perhaps it was just the first time Dawn was seeing how grand an opportunity the day was. After all, it wasn’t every day that she was able to go to town in her best tunic for a most important Meeting.
Dawn walked down the paved road that was starting to warm from the sun beating down upon it. There weren’t many vehicles that used this road, so Dawn felt completely comfortable walking down the center of the country lane. Every step led to a new thought, a new fear, a new excitement about what the day might hold. After about a quarter of an hour, Dawn reached Boden’s house. She strolled through the front gate and towards the small tan house.
Boden’s mother came to the door when she knocked. Caraleen was tall and slender with long auburn hair that cascaded spirals down her back. She had large almond-shaped eyes the color of fresh spring grass. She was beautiful, but she knew it. This fact made her seem almost hollow, and though Dawn felt it proper to respect her and be courteous to her, she never really liked Caraleen, and knew that Caraleen didn’t really like her either.
“Oh, hello Dawn,” she said, her disdain barely hidden. “Don’t you look lovely today? On your way to Meeting, I presume?”
“Yes Mrs. Champaneto. I was wondering if Boden might like to walk the rest of the way with me.”
“Well I think that is a splendid idea and I’m sure Boden will be delighted to see you. He hasn’t had much time for visitors with all of the work he’s been doing getting ready for Meeting and all. You know, Language Studies, and Magical Theory, and fencing, and the sort. But of course you must know what I mean.”
Dawn felt her cheeks burning crimson. Caraleen batted her eyelashes at Dawn innocently, though Dawn understood perfectly well that this was meant to be a jab at her meager finances.
As they were attempting to remain courteous to one another, Boden came stumbling out of his room, still in his pajamas, hair in all directions, and rubbing his eyes to get the sleep out.
“Boden dear, Dawn is here to walk with you to Meeting,” his mother said as she shot him a look of disapproval for his untamed hair and shabby appearance.
“Hey Dawn. Gimme a minute and I’ll be ready,” he said through a yawn. “Hey mom, have you seen my green and black tunic?”
His voice was deeper than Dawn remembered, though it had only been one winter’s time since she last saw her friend.
“There is a red one hanging in your closet, dear,” she said, trying to sustain her sweet voice while giving her son a sharp glare.
Boden shot his mother a glance of distaste.
“The red one?” he asked miserably. “The red one is dreadful. If I wear that ugly red thing, I won’t be Chosen. Not that it really matters to me, but I know you and father are eager to get me out of the house,” he said with a smile.
“Fine,” his mother said shrilly, dropping the happy facade. “Wear the green one. Who cares? You obviously don’t. And what is so wrong with us wanting you to do well, like your brothers?” she continued to mumble as she pouted out of the room.
Boden looked at Dawn and smiled. She knew that smile all too well. That was the smile that always meant he was thinking of trouble.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and headed towards his room.
A few minutes later he came out wearing his favorite green tunic with his hair still a mess. He smiled and walked towards Dawn, bending over to kiss her cheek.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hey Boden.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. You really shouldn’t stay away at those boring school retreats so long.”
Boden smiled. “Tell me about it. Those things are the worst. Ready to go?”
“Quite,” she replied.
They walked along the road, now feeling the heat pouring through their shoes from the pavement, and talked about all that had been happening in their lives the past few months. Boden told her of how he and his parents had not been getting on so well since the approach of the Meeting and how he hoped he would be a Chosen One so he could finally be out on his own. This was the third year Boden was old enough to go to Meeting, and hopefully he would not be passed up again this year. Dawn confided to him about her dream and about how she had never wanted to be a Chosen One until she learned that her father had been, and somehow that had changed her heart towards the whole thing. Although she had previously thought that being a Chosen One was just a silly tradition, she now worried she would not be a part of it.
“It’s really nothing to worry about,” he said as he kicked a rock off the road. “They’ll either pick you, or they won’t.”
After walking for about thirty minutes, Dawn and Boden finally reached the edge of town. The Great Hall was ahead, and as the sun shone down upon the dome, it shimmered like a jewel. There were a great many people scrambling to and fro along the narrow streets of Unabay and Dawn looked around as if she’d never seen so much activity.
“Are you okay?” Boden finally asked after several minutes of walking in silence next to the wide-eyed Dawn.
“Huh?” she questioned, when she realized he was speaking in her direction. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I don’t know what it is Boden, but everything just seems so new today.”
They began to climb the winding stairs that led to the meeting hall in the center of the city. It sat on top of a flat hill, surrounded by blooming cherry blossom trees. At the top of the stairs, there was a fountain where many of the other hopeful youth were sitting around chattering nervously. Dawn and Boden walked over, stood under one of the blooming trees, and breathed in the lovely fragrance as they waited.
They had not been waiting very long when the golden doors opened and a tall man wearing all black stepped out onto the marble patio. He was thin and had a pale complexion. His eyes were light and friendly. Dawn and Boden were pressed into the crowd very near him when he began to speak.
“Welcome all!” he exclaimed as the group of young men and women began to cheer. “I hope today will be your day as we enter this sacred place.” He raised his hands to quiet the crowd before adding, “Before we go in, I must ask that all of you consider very carefully the task before you. Being a Chosen One is a great honor, but with that honor comes much responsibility. There is no shame in turning away now, but once you enter these doors there isn’t another chance to walk away.”
Silence overtook the crowd. Everyone stood solemn, considering the words he had spoken. The crowd stiffened as if each person wished to signify that they would not be the one to walk away.
“Now, if you are ready, we will enter.”
The golden doors swung open again and the people started to file inside. Dawn grabbed Boden’s arm to let him lead the way. She had never been to the Great Hall and it was more than she could’ve imagined. The domed ceiling was high and painted with intricate gold designs. The walls were lined with paintings of men and women who had been Chosen in years past. She knew that somewhere along these walls was a picture of her father as a young man. The hall was much larger than she had anticipated from the appearance outside. It was about one hundred yards long and fifty yards wide. At the front of the hall there were five tables with five people sitting at each one, all dressed in the brightest colors Dawn had ever seen. They seemed to radiate power and strength.
Boden took a seat next to two boys he had met in horseback riding lessons a few years ago. They sat on the end of the fourth row on the right side. While he sat and talked with the brothers, Dawn sat quietly beside of him, in awe of her surroundings. She tried to guess which picture might be her father, but there were so many that she could hardly tell one from another. She leaned her head back and watched the designs on the ceiling swirl about in a beautiful dance. After several minutes of waiting for everyone to take his or her seats, the ceremony began. A small man in a white tunic rose to his feet. He was in the middle seat of the middle table, and Dawn guessed he must be the Captain of the Great Hall.
“Good day friends!” he shouted cheerfully. “Today we come to Meeting to choose who among you shall be honored to go forth, be trained, taught, and changed into the person which lies within.”
The room gave a great cheer. The Captain smiled and looked around at the youthful jubilation. Dawn caught his eyes resting upon her and she smiled in return. He tilted his head and furrowed his brow. His look made Dawn feel very uncomfortable. It was as if he was looking into her.
Good day, Dawn, she heard his voice echo in her head. We’ve been waiting for you.
Dawn’s eyes enlarged. Had he really said something that only she could hear? She looked at him intensely, but received no answer. He simply turned back to the crowd and smiled.
“As you all well know,” he began, “today we shall choose from among you who shall represent our grand planet of Reimer as the new Chosen. As a new Chosen, you will enter a training program for the next four years and be taught all of the fundamentals of policing the worlds. Before we begin, it is important that you realize that it is nothing you say or do which determines whether or not you are a Chosen One. Being a Chosen One is all about who you are, and who you will become.”
The people began to mumble quietly among themselves at this comment. No one could understand how the Captain could possibly know who he or she would become, even if the legends of the Chosen One’s gifts were true. He waved his hand and silence fell again.
“There are five rooms,” he said, pointing to two doors on each side of the room and then indicating one behind him. “When you hear your name called, go to the person calling you and follow them inside. There awaits a sect of leaders who will speak to you briefly and then give you further instructions. Now please, sit, talk quietly, and be patient.”
When the Captain had finished speaking, all of the people at the five tables stood and departed to their respective rooms. The waiting began. At first, the Great Hall remained silent long after the Captain had left. Soon after though, the voices of the youth began to rise to a low rumble, only pausing when a door opened to call a new hopeful. Once a person came out of the room, they simply went back to their seat to continue the conversation just as before. Those around would focus intently on their face, as if to deduce what had happened in the room. No one could give any specific details, which greatly disappointed those around him or her.
Dawn had still not been into a room when the lunch cart began to circulate. Tender faced ladies were pushing the carts offering drinks and sandwiches. Dawn took a glass of apple juice and a cheese sandwich for Boden, and a glass of milk and a tomato sandwich for herself, and sat deep in thought. Boden was in the room on the left side closest to the front. She hoped that he was Chosen today. Although he had said that he wanted to be a Chosen One so he could leave his parent’s house, Dawn knew that it was much more than that. Both of his parents and each of his three older brothers had been Chosen at their first Meeting, but Boden was now at his third and was concerned he may not be a Chosen One at all. If not today, he would only have one more chance next spring, and it was rare for anyone to be Chosen at their fourth Meeting. For Boden, it was a matter of honor.
“Dawn Volga,” said a voice at the front of the room.
She stood and placed her sandwich in her seat. She walked towards the front of the room, heart pounding with every step. She passed the front tables and was just a few feet away from the room when she tripped, and barely caught herself before falling flat on her face. The lady holding the door smiled kindly. Dawn’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment.
“That happens all the time,” she whispered.
She led Dawn down a short corridor of dark stone. Dawn reached out her hand to touch the stone that she did not recognize, and was surprised to find that rather than being cool in this dim hallway it felt warm against her skin. As the tips of her fingers grazed against the stone, she felt a tingle shoot up her arm and all through her body. The woman stopped abruptly in front of her and turned around.
“You touched it, didn’t you?”
Dawn instinctively dropped her head in shame.
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite alright dear. It was just surprising. You see dear, this is Divergence Stone. It is a protective stone that will not allow someone to touch it unless it knows you. It keeps our inner halls untainted by those without the gift.”
“So most people can’t touch it?” Dawn asked timidly.
“Precisely.”
“How did you know that I had touched it?”
“I felt the air change,” she said as she turned around and began walking again.
Dawn wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but she did not question her further. She continued walking down the corridor and into a rounded doorway with unusual writing above it. Inside the door was a bright round room. There were large yellow candles on waist high marble bases placed every few feet lining the circular room. There were no actual windows, but there were majestic scenes painted on the walls surrounded by a painted windowsill. Long red curtains draped from floor to ceiling around each painted view, giving the impression that the viewer was looking out into a world beyond. There was a soft breeze blowing in the room, smelling of salt and fish, which seemed to come from one of the painted windows. As Dawn looked at the ocean view and traced the length of the curtains with her eyes from floor to ceiling, she saw that the ceiling was also richly decorated with an amazing view of the stars. She felt as though she were looking up at the sky as she had done so many times laying in the grass behind her home.
“You must now choose.”
The woman’s voice pulled her back to the room. The woman indicated the two doors in front of them. Dawn had been so distracted by the beauty in the room that she had not yet noticed them. She looked up at the woman.
“Even in this choice you are determining whether or not you are to be a Chosen One,” she said. “Only about a third of the youth in this building today will choose correctly.”
Dawn looked at the identical doors. There was nothing to help her decide between the two. “The right one,” she said.
“Good,” the woman said.
They were now standing in total darkness. Dawn could not even see the woman standing just in front of her.
“Now,” the woman said, and it sounded as if her voice was radiating from the room itself, “make Light.”
“Pardon?” Dawn asked, perplexed.
“I need you to make a Light. There are five doors throughout this room. Four are exits, but the fifth will take you to the next phase of your testing. On the proper door is a blue circle. The only way for you to know which door has the blue circle is for you to make a Light and find it.”
“How do I do that?”
“Oh my,” the woman said. “Do you not know the ways of the Chosen? Haven’t you been taking the standard history courses along with Magic Theory?”
Dawn felt her face flush crimson. Her mother had tried to enroll her in the basic knowledge courses, but there had not been enough money. Dawn was lacking in much of the information that the other students possessed. She felt utterly despondent. Dawn hung her head and closed her eyes.
Just then a light began to glow. Dawn didn’t know it, but the woman certainly did.
“Please,” she said, “that’s quite bright enough!”
Dawn opened her eyes and the light faded to a glow about like an average light bulb. The woman removed her hands from her eyes and attempted to blink away spots.
“The blue spot,” Dawn said as she pointed to the leftmost door.
“Indeed,” the woman said, smiling. “You’ve done well. But next time, let’s try to control the light a little better, please.”
The woman opened the door to a larger room, dull in comparison to the entrance and not much brighter than the dark room. It was pale and gray, without decorations of any kind. In the center of the room there was a small round table with four men and two empty seats. One of the men was the Captain of the Great Hall. The woman sat down and indicated for Dawn to do the same. She sat down and smiled nervously at the men around the table.
“Hello Dawn,” one of the men said. “My name is Reuben and I will be conducting your interview today.”
His voice was smooth and even. It reminded Dawn of a soft babbling brook. His voice eased her nervousness and she smiled at him. He appeared to be a tall man, for though he was sitting, his head was at least a foot higher than the other men. He had curly black and gray hair that was messily piled on top of his head. His bright blue eyes shone out of his rounded tan cheeks. His face was tender and reminded her very much of her grandfather. He was wearing a golden tunic with a lion embroidered onto the front in silver. The lion’s eyes were red and seemed to pulsate as he spoke.
“Do not be nervous,” he began. “Although being a Chosen One is a great honor, it is given to you only if you desire it. Now we begin.”
A pale blue light began to fill the room. Dawn felt very light, as if she were floating. She felt as if she was losing control of her body and her eyes began to close.
I must fight this, she thought. I must stay awake.
She seemed to slip further into unconsciousness and her body was beginning to embrace the warmth of the blue light. It offered peace. The pale light was calling her to safety and rest. She heard the light sound of voices around her.
“She will fail,” said one brusquely.
She refused to allow that voice to be true. Her eyes jerked open and she regained feeling in her body. She stiffened her back against her chair and fixed her eyes on Reuben. The pale blue light began to fade to normal and the five leaders began to talk to one another in a language that she did not recognize. After a moment, Reuben spoke.
“You have passed your first test,” Reuben said, “the test of perception.”
“Does this mean I am a Chosen One?” Dawn asked timidly.
Yes, answered the Captain promptly, you are definitely a Chosen One. Most of the young men and women who are Chosen are those who simply realize that they need to fight. Few actually break free.
Your mind is the battleground for all wars waged against the body, the woman said. If you can prevent your mind from being overpowered, you will always prevail.
Dawn realized as she was listening to the woman that she was not speaking with her lips. In fact, neither had the Captain. Somehow, their thoughts were being projected into the minds of everyone else. It was just as it had been in the hall when she heard the Captain speaking to her.
“So should I go back out then?” Dawn asked, confused as to how to proceed.
Not quite yet, dear, thought the Captain.
Wait just a moment, thought the bald man to Dawn’s left. Why are you not sending her out now?
“There are a few other tests that I would like to administer,” Reuben said softly.
Surely you are not suggesting that she take the Link’s test? She is too young!”
Too young? thought the Captain. Have you considered the boy? He has been raised as a Link from birth! Who are we to say she is too young? She broke the blue light in less than a minute! Who among us has done that? Not I, friend, nor you! She may be one of the missing Links.
The boy is rare and insignificant to this situation. He has been proven through the trials, but even now I have my doubts about him! But this is unacceptable. How dare you suggest that a Link be found in the mind of this young girl! Will your minds be clouded in the hope that we are closer to victory? Use your judgment! the bald man thought.
Our minds clouded? thought the Captain. How dare you even suggest that? You are the one who disputes the possibility she may be a Link! And you base it solely on the historical estimates of the age of the Links. You are blind to even the possibility!
I’m sorry to interrupt, thought Dawn, but I don’t know what we’re arguing about. What is a Link, and what makes you think I am one of them?
That settles this argument, thought the bald man. To think of testing this child who doesn’t even know the slightest thing of the Link’s existence would be pointless. Then to Dawn he asked scornfully, Have you never been educated?
Ignore Budymis. He is always too harsh, thought the man who had thus far been silent. He was a slight man, short and thin, with pale blonde hair hanging in thin wisps across his forehead. But even in his sickly condition, Dawn could still see a light shining in his chestnut eyes, and she automatically liked him very much. Everything is really quite simple, Dawn. Over the history of the worlds there have been difficult times full of peril when someone with special gifts and abilities had to be raised up to bring justice and wise counsel. They were referred to as Links. The Links came in groups of seven, usually from different worlds, and together they would crusade for truth and freedom.
“And you think I might be one? Doubtful,” she smirked. And even if I were, how would you know? Dawn thought.
Well, began the man again, there is a test we could administer. The World Council developed it a few hundred years ago under the guidance of the Links of that age. If you meet all of the criteria, we would first begin your training as a Chosen One, then, when you were prepared, we would join you with the other Links for further training.
“There are others,” she asked, “waiting for me?”
Not of whom we are able to speak, thought Budymis coldly, as he gave a sharp look to the other man.
There are others, thought the woman, glancing roughly at Budymis. But we cannot even begin to discuss that further until we know if you are one of them.
This is preposterous, thought Budymis. I thought you would have more sense than this, Stalon.
The small man just smiled.
We will know, thought Reuben in his cool, even tone, when we proceed. Are you ready to begin again, Dawn?
I think so, she thought.
“Listen carefully,” Reuben began. “You will begin to feel light headed, followed by a series of events which may be a bit frightening to you. I want you to know that nothing can hurt you here. If at any time you must stop, I want you to raise your left hand and I will lead you out. You are in control. Do you understand?”
Dawn nodded. She closed her eyes and began to feel a dizziness come over her. She opened her eyes and was surrounded by only darkness. The darkness began to dissipate into a bright sunny day. She was outside on the empty streets of Unabay. Reuben’s voice was still echoing in her head.
Dawn walked forward on the cobble street. She turned a corner and passed a fabric shop. To her left was a dark alley; to her right was a well-lit path. She could see nothing at the end of the alley, but at the end of the well-lit path stood her mother, waving happily. She faced her mother and waved, smiling. She stepped in the direction of the light.
“Not that way,” said a soft female voice. She did not recognize it.
She retreated a step from the light and watched as the face of her mother began to melt into blackness. Her form faded and she vanished. She forced herself to turn away from where her mother had been and stepped forcefully towards the black alley. She took another step, then without thought she turned to look again to where her mother had been. The light that had been shining down on the city streets was now glowing a sinister red. The welcoming shape of her mother was now replaced with a black shadow that shifted from solid to smoke and back again. It seemed to sense her watching it and stopped moving, holding perfectly still. Then suddenly the blackness was gone and she was looking at her mother again, signaling for her to come to her. Dawn turned back to the alley, which suddenly appeared murkier than before. She proceeded with caution down the alley. The blackness grew even darker and fear began to ache inside of her, yet she walked on.
Dawn could feel the alley getting smaller, as if closing in around her. Step after step led only to more darkness and the feeling of impending doom. Dawn felt a dry ache in the back of her throat and realized that she was feeling quite thirsty. No sooner had she thought it that she heard the steady trickle of water pouring into a pitcher.
Great, she thought, now if only I could see to find the water.
Sure enough, as soon as she thought of the light, a dull glow began to overtake the darkness so that within a minute Dawn was standing in a bright room full of color, with a pitcher of water sitting on a table in front of her, accompanied by a glass. Dawn stepped forward and poured herself a glass of water, letting it flow into her mouth and ease the dryness.
She looked around the room, unsure how to proceed. The room was round and the walls of the room were made of the blackest marble, and seemed to glow in the light that was radiating through the room. There were eight doors circling all around the room, each made of pale white stone and each identical to the next, aside from a different fragment of letters written above each in blazing gold ink. Dawn looked all around her. The words above looked as if they were written in the old language of the Reimerian scholars. Most of the scholars of Reimer lived north of the city of Unabay in the Diamese Mountains, so Dawn had never been in contact with any of them and was unfamiliar with their language.
She stared at the door closest to her, without even an inkling of what could be inside. Dawn walked to the door and placed her hand on the knob. It would not turn. The knob was warm, and growing warmer as she held it. She released it before the knob became too scalding to touch. She looked down at the metal that had turned red with the heat, then looked at her hand. The words that had been above the door were now glistening in gold ink upon her hand. She looked above the door and the words were no longer there.
Weird, she thought, but her mind was too diluted with everything else to give it much thought.
Dawn proceeded to the next door. She reached for the handle as before, and just as the first door, the handle heated and began to glow red under her hand. When she pulled her hand away, she again saw that the words from above the door were gone and had been inscribed upon her hand under the previous line of script. Each door was like this, until she reached the eighth. At the eighth door, Dawn placed her hand upon the doorknob and waited for the now familiar heat to begin to warm upon her hand. Instead only the cool metal greeted her palm. She lifted her hand to inspect it as she had before and saw that the seven lines of script had cooled on her hand and were no longer shimmering a golden hue, but were now only lightly visible as seven lines of scripted scars upon the palm of her right hand.
As she studied her palm there was a shifting in the room. Dawn looked up as the sound of stone grinding against stone caught in her ears. The doors in the circular room had begun to rotate counter clockwise, but the eighth door remained steady. As the first door reached the eighth door there was a loud crumbling sound as the first door fell into place behind the eighth door. A golden outline of the door flashed quickly and then disappeared. The grinding of the doors continued as each door slid behind the eighth door, leaving only a black marble room with one stone door, seven lines of script shining above it.
She reached down and turned the knob and the door slowly floated open. Damp air greeted her, smelling musty and old, as if no one had walked this way in a long time. Dawn stepped into the darkness, confidently expecting the stone floor to support her weight as before, but instead she found that there was no floor. Within the darkness Dawn’s false step sent her tumbling through inky shadows, the wind rushing past her ears, deafening her as she tumbled through the unilluminated murk. Dawn barely had time to realize what was happening when she landed with a shock. With a jolt of fright and a considerable splash, Dawn plunged into an icy sea that tangled itself around her lungs and threatened to envelop her completely. She thrashed around until she had forced her body to the surface, spewing saltwater from her nose and mouth. The water had already begun to numb her body, crushing any hope she had of surviving.
Alone in the cold, dark ocean, Dawn remembered Reuben’s words: “You are in control.”
“I am in control, “ she stammered aloud through chattering teeth. “I am in control.”
Suddenly, the waters became motionless and warmth began to return to Dawn’s body. She began to swim. The darkness blinded her and her ears were still ringing from the windy fall, but regardless of her battered senses and lack of directions, Dawn knew where she was going. She swam through the waters until her arms and legs ached. Just as she felt she could swim no more, her leg grazed sand beneath her. She forced herself up from the barely mobile waters and pushed her body onto the warm sand that clung to her as she lay sprawled there on the shore.
Dawn
lay face down in the sand, the waters gently lapping against her
feet, for several minutes before she was able to push herself up on
her elbows and look around. When she raised her eyes she was
delighted to discover that the darkness was rapidly being replaced by
an early dawn, the sun rising over the heights of the island. Dawn
stood and looked around at the beach, an empty, colorless spot on the
red spattered backdrop. She turned towards the center of the island
where the trees grew thick against the rocky base of the island’s
tallest mountain. Dawn trudged through the sand and made her way to
the edge of the jungle where the sand faded under green foliage.
“If only there was a path,” Dawn whispered.
As the words left her lips a tree in front of her shifted its trunk to the left and revealed a well-worn path into the heart of the jungle. Dawn followed the trail for well over an hour before she heard the soft gurgle of the stream that was crossing her course. There was a narrow wooden bridge that crossed the stream and turned into a walkway leading to a two story white house surrounded by a tall, stone, wall. Dawn recognized the house immediately. She had lived there with her parents for the first six years of her life. It was the house where her father died.
Dawn crossed the bridge easily and stepped through the gate into the yard. Anxiousness rose inside of her causing her heart to jump wildly in her chest. She reached the front door and slowly turned the handle. She stepped inside, expecting the foyer, but instead she was standing in the kitchen of her childhood home, holding a bowl of cereal in her left hand and a pitcher of milk in the right. She looked forward into the parlor and saw a tuft of hair sticking above the chair. Dawn stood frozen in the kitchen. She knew what she would find if she entered the parlor room. It had been ten years since she had entered the first time and she never wanted to return.
“It will be fine, Dawn,” the unknown female voice said. “You must go in.”
She sat the cereal and milk on the table and walked forward. She stepped onto the plush beige carpet and walked towards her father’s chair. She turned and faced him, dreading seeing his limp body lying in that chair. She looked down.
“Hello, my dear,” he said. “I’ve been expecting you.”
She felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her.
“Daddy?” she asked tearfully.
“Sit down sweetie. We need to talk.”
Dawn sat down quietly across from him, in tears, but happy to hear his voice again.
“My beautiful girl, how you’ve grown! You look so much like your mother.”
“Daddy, what’s going on? Where are we right now? How are you here?”
“Oh sweetie, there is too much to explain right now. I can’t stay long, so listen to me carefully. Do you know that part of you which has always made you feel as if you’re different from everyone else?”
Dawn nodded. She had never vocalized this feeling to anyone, but she had always felt as if she was looking out from an inescapable window onto the world of everyone else.
“It’s there because you are different from everyone else. You are one of seven, different in that you are more special than even a Chosen One. I know you don’t understand yet, but you will in time. There is a lot to take in, baby. Right now, I just need you to promise me something.”
“Anything daddy.”
“Promise me that you’ll fight for truth. Promise that you will always stand for what is right, no matter the cost. Can you do that pumpkin?”
“I promise daddy. I promise.”
“That’s my girl.”
The clock struck.
“I have to go now.”
“No daddy, don’t leave me again. I need you.”
“My dear heart, I never left you. I will never leave you. Go home. Remember your promise.”
“I will daddy.”
“One more thing, princess.”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“You’ll find him in the mountain.”
He was gone before Dawn had a chance to find out what he meant.
Lord Ruark
Exhausted, the horse trotted to a stop, expelling hot air from his nostrils and steaming sweat into the air. The beautiful creature was a deep chestnut brown color, with a flowing, long mane, now tangled from the frenzied ride. The horse’s name was Percy and his rider was the infamous Lord Ruark.
Lord Ruark gracefully dismounted from Percy and placed his reins in the hands of the groomsman who waited nervously to take the horse of the villainous man in the black riding cloak.
“Take good care of him or you will pay with your life,” the man said coldly. The groomsman nodded quickly and led Percy away to the stable with haste. Lord Ruark watched them retreat as his lip twitched slightly upwards in a cruel smirk. He turned away from the groomsman and started off towards the manor. Lord Ruark had only one thing on his mind aside from the general cruelties that floated around his tiny brain: Cynthis VanDible.
Cynthis was the most beautiful woman in any of the villages under Lord Ruark’s reign. She was tall with pale skin and long flowing blonde hair, a rarity for the dark hair and skin associated with the area. She had bright green eyes with light freckles underneath. She laughed often, displaying her lovely white teeth and the red apples of her cheeks. She was perfection. Lord Ruark wanted nothing aside from perfection.
Cynthis had been engaged to the village blacksmith. It had not been the perfect union in her father’s eyes, but the blacksmith, Richard, had been kind and had loved Cynthis very much. In turn, Cynthis had loved him. She knew him to be a wonderful man, full of love and tenderness, passion and virtue. They would’ve married in the summer if only she had not gone to the market.
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