The Chosen

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Although the prophecy had warned them about the river, it had failed to mention the Queen’s disappearance.

The prophecy foretold the birth of the Chosen One, who would defeat the evil of the land. Today, the town would celebrate the day the river ran backward and the birth of the Chosen.

Instead of celebrating her birthday with all the other Chosen potentials, they had locked Shay away in a classroom like they always did. She gazed out the window to battle those feelings of restraint, hoping to catch a view of the ceremony preparations while trying to tamp down her anger at not being among the boys attempting to prove their bravery.

She thought of the townspeople coming out to see the parade of knights and maesters who would march down to the podium, how all the boys from the nearest villages who shared her birthday would all attempt to pull the sword from its spot in the podium.

If only they would allow her a chance. She would march up in the middle of the boys and pull it free. Everyone would cheer, and she wouldn’t be stuck in the classroom anymore.

But they wouldn’t let her try because she wasn’t a boy.

Shay yearned for her chance and couldn’t understand why they insisted on keeping her with the other girls, not the rest of the Chosen selects. Her hopes and dreams wanted to be on the training ground, swinging swords and shooting arrows, not stuck in a classroom learning about taking care of the boys.

“Shay,” the maester called on her. She jumped and returned her attention to the maester at the front of the classroom. His beard had only reached mid-chest and still had most of its red color, which conflicted with his drab brown robes. Shay could never be a maester because of the lack of a color palette.

“Young Lady, I implore you to pay attention,” Maester Eluid asked.

“Sorry, Sir,” she said, but her eyes stayed focused outside the window.

“Now, as I was saying,” the maester continued. “As you all know, the ceremony is today. However, —Yes, Shay?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he acknowledged her.

“I need to pee.” The other girls in the room snickered at her, as they usually did. Before he could answer, she stood and crossed the room. He fumbled with his words but allowed her to leave, even though she had already left the room.

She exited and turned sharply right, then pressed herself to the wall. Her lips curled upward. If they wouldn’t give her a chance to pull the sword, she would try on her own.

Shay surveyed the hall for any adult who might send her back to her classroom. Her legs moved with an urgency she had never felt before.

With her feet picking up speed, she rushed out of the building and through the training field. She had watched the boys practice with their wooden swords and shields so often that she had to restrain herself from jumping up and taking a sword from one of them to show them how to do the move. She spent much time at home training with a stick against the scarecrows. Until her dad would find her and push her inside to do her _girl things_.

She hesitated as her foot crossed the line that divided the school grounds from the road. She hesitated, fearful of what her dad would think if someone caught her. Of course, she tried her best not to make her father look bad, but all the trouble she made with the boys seemed to always bounce back at him. Of course, she felt like it was his fault, since he had raised her like he would a boy.

She turned to go back inside, wanting to avoid trouble. That way, she and her father could go to the parade later, and she wouldn’t have to avoid his disappointing stare the entire time.

But if she pulled the sword from the stone, it would make them both so happy. She needed to do this—for the both of them.

Her foot crossed the line. She couldn’t go back now.

She sprinted through the town, taking in all the decorations people had strung up on their houses and windows. The townspeople milling about cheered her on and celebrated the day as she fled by. Shay just hoped no one would realize she wasn’t supposed to be there.

Everyone had worried that the weather wouldn’t let them host the ceremony today, but luckily, the gods turned the weather. Shay flung mud and slipped with each step, but she wouldn’t let anything stop her. She knew her time and opportunities were limited.

She huffed as she reached the outskirts of the parade planning area. Shay pushed herself against the wall, trying to be as sneaky as a cat. Most people around were too busy to notice her, all alone. The men who saw her said nothing, thinking she was a maiden fetching something for the ceremony. Her back felt more rigid than ever before, and she thought her heart beat so loud it would alert anyone within distance, yet she continued to the inner sanctum.

The trees inside the inner sanctum had grown so tall that they blocked out much of the sun. Enough sunlight broke through the leaves to provide enough light to see. Around the center of the sanctum, benches and trellises had been erected in orbit around the sword in the middle, elevated off the ground by a podium.

Shay scanned the area, feeling a mystical energy standing near it. Surprisingly, she found herself alone in this magical spot. She spied the sword jutted out of the podium. Some grime had splattered the first of three steps, but each step seemed more immaculate than the one before, leading up to the sword.

The sword itself looked too simple to be magical. Its silver blade, with a simple cross guard, looked like every other sword she had seen. The handle was wrapped in worn brown leather. A clear crystal adorned the hilt, refracting light onto the ground and making the sword stand out. It all looked so simple yet beautiful.

Shay hesitated to take the first step, not because of doubt but because she would rather not dirty it with her grimy shoes. Instead of stepping up, she worked her foot out of the shoe, placed her bare foot on the second step, and repeated with the other foot.

Finally, after all this time, she found herself face-to-face with the blade. Her body continued to move on its own. The weapon called to her. She lifted her hand to the hilt, but then recoiled. She feared what would happen if she grabbed the blade, and nothing changed. The prophecy had borne so much hope in her that she hadn’t considered what she would do if nothing happened.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” An old and hoarse voice said, surprising her.

Fear and regret flooded her thoughts. Her head sank toward the floor as she prepared to be caught and taken to school detention.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her chin dropping to her chest. She refused to turn and address the voice.

She didn’t need to, as the voice’s owner joined her on the podium. Shay watched as muddy bare feet landed next to hers. Then she turned. Head Maester Lucard smiled at her. She blinked a few times to determine the old man’s rage. She hadn’t expected to see a smile and twinkling eyes.

“Were your studies not engaging?” He asked.

She swiped her feet at the ground before finally shaking her head.

“I see,” he said, stroking his grey beard from his chin to the pointy end in the middle of his chest. A moment passed between them when no one spoke. “You thought you might take a turn at pulling the sword? You _were_ born around the right time.”

He seemed to be speaking to himself at the end of his thought. She nodded, knowing full well that her birth had occurred during the prophesied time.

“What would you do then? Defeat Sarlock the dragon? Search for the missing Queen?”

She shrugged and looked away from him and into space. She hadn’t thought much beyond pulling the sword. Shay hadn’t even intended to get this close to the sword.

“Are you sure you’d be ready for all that came with the responsibility if the sword chose you?” he asked, fixing her with a gaze.

She nodded, although a pit in her stomach opened, as she hadn’t realized all that would come with being the Chosen.

“Interesting,” he continued to mutter. “The prophecy didn’t mention…”

Shay turned to look the way she came in. She could make a run for it. Then, she could delay whatever punishment Maester Lucard had waiting for her. But for now, she could be free and formulate what she would tell her father.

Then she thought about how much her actions had already hurt him. Suddenly, every inch of her being felt heavy. Tears battled her to come out, but she mustered her strength to keep them inside.

“What shall we do with you?” Lucard asked.

Despondent, Shay turned to leave. Her hope had popped like a balloon, and the remaining bit of air would escape as she descended the stairs. However, as her feet landed on the last step, he coughed to get her attention. She turned to him, checking the ground to ensure she hadn’t dirtied the podium.

Maester Lucard nodded his head back toward the sword, “Try.”

Immediately, her hope ballooned again. She couldn’t help but jump to the top and dash past him to the sword. She turned to look at him, fearful that he might attempt to rescind his offer, but he smiled.

Mustering up the courage, she lifted her hand once more. Her arms shook with anticipation. She could feel the magic from the sword connecting with her. Everything moved in slow motion as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt.

With her muscle taunt, she pressed the sword upward. Her eyes widened as it moved upward. She stopped and adjusted to get a better grip.

The sword came free like someone had poured grease between the blade and stone. But as the sword came free, its weight brought it back down to the earth. Shay did her best to keep the mystical sword from clanging down to the ground. It took all her remaining strength to keep the hilt from hitting and busting to pieces.

“Interesting,” Lucard said as he stroked his beard.

She looked on in disbelief, her arms straining against the weight of holding the sword. Her mind jumbled, and words wouldn’t form. She looked at her arms, straining to support the sword, and her hands wrapped tight around the hilt. Finally, she turned to Lucard.

“I…did…it. I AM the Chosen One,” she huffed.

His smile turned from joy and intrigue to sorrow and sympathy.

“Unfortunately, no.” His response knocked the glee from her.

“But I-“ she stammered. “But I pulled-“

“Indeed you did! Sadly, that is not all. The prophecy says that by touching the blade, the sword will glow bright.”

Shay turned to examine the weapon. She had dreamed of pulling the sword from its spot for so long. Now, with it resting there, she felt lost.

Her hands opened up just as the tears broke through. She was no longer strong enough to lift the sword and stop the tears. Everything felt dull. She crumpled to the step while the sword hit and resonated throughout the area.

Lucard sat down on the steps next to her. His bones creaked and popped. He reached out to place a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. She felt the warmth of his spirit spread to her until her sadness overwhelmed his attempt. She buried her face into his brown rob and sobbed.

He pat her back. “There, there,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, but she wasn’t sure what she apologized for.

“Nonsense. But I must say, pulling that sword means you still have a part to play. The sword would not have allowed you to do that if you weren’t in its plans.”

She stopped wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Now, we need to get this sword back into place and find your father,” he said.

The rollercoaster of emotions caused her to experience whiplash. She thought of her father. Regardless of the outcome, he would not be pleased with her today.

“And after we find your father, we must find Maester Ken.”

“Maester Ken? But I’m in Maesters Eluid’s class.”

“Ah, yes. I will discuss it with him, too. He should not have let you out of sight, but that will no longer be his problem.”

Her breath stuck in her throat. “He’s not in trouble because of me?”

“Oh, no, my dear. He will need to know that you are moving to the Knights class. Unless you’d like to stay inside.”

She blinked, unsure what was happening.

“Besides, you’ll need to start training now. You’ll need to be able to lift a sword eventually.”

Author's Note

While I did as much as possbile with this piece that has been running through my head for a few years, the deadline for this contest arrived too fast. I haven't had any peer reviews, so let me know what you think about it.

Also, let me know if you'd like to see more of the story here. I have a whole novel in mind with this, but want to see if there is interest.