Chosen

“Silence child the hour is at hand, the chosen can not be hampered in his task.”

The words were harsh, like a burning lash to the young girls back. She obeyed after all this was her mother, she knew best, even if the chosen had forgotten his staff, the one thing that gave him his power. She shook her head slightly and just watched, the two green eyes perceiving a world that was larger then her but in her mind seemed insignificant. These were the toils of childhood she was told, the world is always bigger then you.

Again a hand came down to silence her musings even the mind had to fall silent for the task to be achieved, she continued to watch. The man walked confidently towards the stone, it was charred, a testimony to those who had tried what he has done in the past. Slowly he lifted his hands to the sky, the inferior staff creaked slightly as the inner workings of it begin to give way. The man grimaced slightly and looked back to the crowd before he spoke, his voice boomed over the storm overhead.

“It is ti…”

He never finished his sentence, like so many others before him; he proved that his time as the chosen was short. His soul was reclaimed by the firestorm that scoured their planet every year. The girl shook her head a tear falling to the ground slightly as she mouthed the words, “Papa…”

All she had was his memory now, that and the staff. She knew that even that object wouldn’t stay in her possession long; all of the chosen’s possessions were given to the community so they could gain some luck. She knew that this wasn’t so, that the power came from within, and it was brought out by a staff that was handed down from generation to generation. Each in this family were the chosen, she was no different other then being a child and a girl. She closed her eyes already there at the home clutching the staff and hiding it away.

Older eyes opened this time, they peered out at the world, it was still small to her, and maybe it was that she never matured. But she sighed nonetheless and watched once more in the crowd as another. Not of the chosen bloodline attempted to do what others had, he had no choice, the village was a tatters each year without a chosen the village would be torn in two. Earth splitting to eat children while they slept, and old men and women while they were awake and tending to the house.

Again with older eyes but an unchanging mind she watched the sight before her, she’d seen it many times a villager would go up to the stone and plead for the village, and like the others he was struck down. His body wasn’t even consumed it fell to the ground smoking from the heat that had hit the chard form. The villagers didn’t even have the chance to gather the body to take it and mourn before the storms started once again. She shook her head and walked home, her mother was older now. Grey lines had adorned her head and wrinkles made their way onto her face.

“Mother it has begun once more, I think it’ll be safe if we don’t stay here and go to the caves.”

She smiled slightly even as she aged her mother still remained in control of the household. “We’ll do no such thing child, each year we stay in this home and each year we live, if they wish to throw their lives away then so be it.” With that her mother nodded once to her as if that was all the explanation in the world and turned walking back into her room. The girl shook her head gripping the staff that once belonged to her father, a chosen. She knew the reason why they had been spared so many times but dared not to say what it was. Even as she was about to go to her mother the storm began to subside as if sensing her fear and anger.

“It’s no use,” she muttered under her breath, knowing each and every time that the storms obeyed her beck and call. After all she was the daughter of the chosen, and had the blood within her. Rolling her eyes she walked out to survey the damage, this time there was none aside from the burnt body of the villager who still lay upon the stone, his body already beginning to decay under the burning sun that showed itself like a coward returning to claim a slab of victory for himself. She glared at it almost as if wanting someone to shoot it down and shook her head, knowing it was the foolish thoughts of a child.

Shrugging she watched as the others returned like insects after the lights have been turned out. She smiled slightly to an older one who passed, but as soon as he was out of sight the same expressionless stare returned and she continued on her path towards hall, the old wooden cane beating upon the cobblestone path. She stopped for a moment nodding to another elder moving to the side and continued, once in the hall she smiled making her way to what she visited each time, the false staff that her father used. She could never understand to this day why he didn’t use it. What had possessed him to do such a foolish thing such as to leave the correct staff behind? He had told her many times that it was the staff that focused true power, and in time it would be handed down to the next chosen once his use had been used up.

She paused for a moment musing to herself and shook her head; he wouldn’t of, would he? Looking around she smiled to her self, alone, the villagers foolish superstitions kept them away after the firestorms, tails of a blast consuming them if they stayed around the hall after a storm kept them away for a day. Knowing this she looked towards the false staff and smiled to herself, holding the true staff over it she concentrated hard. Pulling deep within her mind as her father taught her. She passed over various memories of the two, inseparable, like twins almost.

She smiled to herself slightly and shook her head unable, the energy she had already released within her had no place to go and was unfocused, her body flew back towards a wall. She slipped into the unconscious world and awoke a few hours later. Standing she made her way away from the hall and back to her home. Her mother was at the door to greet her with harsh words of reprimand.

“Child what have I told you about staying out past the hour of rest.”

“You told me that the fire would consume me if I did so mother, and that I would not be given proper rights of ascension if that happened”

“Exactly, so why did you disobey those words?”

She smiled to her mother slightly trying to play off the innocent young child, but as she herself had aged already into a woman it wouldn’t work to well. “I’m sorry mamma I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t” she grinned, “Now get to the kitchen and prepare dinner, my old hands are to tired to prepare food”

Nodding with a sigh she moved slowly into the kitchen, her leg giving her trouble, it was a trait she inherited from her father. Like most of the traits she inherited she learned to live with it and slowly began to prepare the supper for the night. Her mother watched over her shoulder from the corner making sure she did everything correctly.

Within the hour the food was gone and her mother was already in her room sleeping. But she was still restless, and she looked up at the stars from the skylight that her father made for her. She didn’t know where he got the money for the glass but it was a wonderful thing. Her mind raced to thoughts of the past, to thoughts of the day trying to piece her life together, but like every night just before she was to get it all together she succumbed to weariness. Her dreams were as always odd, they always showed the scene of her father’s death, only she was in her place. She never knew what it meant and never tired to learn, having the feeling the answer was something she did not want.

Slowly the dreams melted away and she rested, the world seeming larger then her, but only in her dreams. She smiled to herself, feeling normal for once, but only as a child, this part of the dream never showed her as an adult. She sighed slightly feeling a hand on her shoulder pulling her to the conscious world once again. She opened her eyes slowly and smiled to her mother, looking around the room and then back to her face once again. “Good morning mamma, did you rest well?”

As usual a smile made itself known on the older woman’s face “Yes child, I had a very wonderful rest. I take it from the smile on your face you had a good sleep as well”

A nod was the only answer to her as the younger woman stood and walked out to the guest area a smile gracing her face as the feel of the sun touched her face. She grinned and turned to her mother feeling slightly more refreshed then usual. “Isn’t it a wonderful day mamma?”

Her mother shook her head and smiled slightly “Yes today the chosen must smile upon us from the heavens to give us such a wonderful day.”

The words would be short lived, as the two turned towards the skylight watching another cloud coming they both looked at each other and then slowly walked outside to get a better view. Streaking across the clouds were bolts of fire, they had been energized, the first settlers of this world had seen it so many millennia’s ago but even the reports could describe them. For all the destructive power of the firestorm it had a beauty about it. The clouds shifted in colors continually as the fire streaked across the lolling cotton candy puffs.

“The return a second day in a row? This is a bad sign child, come let us go inside” her mother shook her head unsure of what it could mean. The girl herself paused for a moment thinking of the old superstition and shook her head dismissing it. But she looked up at the clouds, never had the firestorm come a day after the other, and this was a rarity.

Clutching the staff slightly she waited for her mother to go inside, already the towns people had scattered and made their way towards the tunnels. She sighed and moved towards the outside, looking at the stone from her home, it was in plain sight. The firestorm seemed to mock her as a bolt of fire energy caressed the stone slightly. She shook a bit at the force but continued forwards towards the stone, the hairs on the back of her neck raised in the air. Closing her eyes she focused once again and went back to the words her father taught her, she recited them in her mind and spoke aloud.

“It is time, the time is at hand for the chosen to once again cull the firestorms. They scour our lands from day to day year to year but no longer shall we be at bay. The chosen has arrived and knows the task given. A faltering heart will never triumph over the storms.” Pausing for a moment she looked around, people had begun to gather, those who couldn’t make it to shelter. Some looked up at her with hope in their eyes and still others with fear that she would bring detriment towards the village as a whole.

She ignored them all and continued, summoning the energy within, the staff focusing it, “The people of our village shall not live in fear, neither will the old be claimed by the hungry fires of the storm. For the chosen has taken a stand, to keep it at bay and fight, till the last breath.” Pausing once again she looked around unsure and spotted her mother, old and frail but something seemed to be on her face, a look of pride, feeling her mother’s pride she smiled to herself continuing once again. “I stand as the chosen to fight the firestorm, none able to confront such a beast, one of the elements but the chosen will pick up where the brave have fallen to keep you from destroying us.”

Smiling to herself completing the words, there was one final task to complete, something that show her either the chosen or one to never make it to ascension. Holding the staff up high she looked to the clouds and released the focused power, the clouds answered almost as if pricking a balloon with a knife. A violent and a seemingly angry bolt came from the skies when it hit the ground the villager’s closet to the stone flew back, knocking down some others. But she stood firm, her body becoming a conduit; a smile crossed her face slightly as the storm subsided. Stepping down her form still smoking from being hit by lighting moved towards her mother. “Thank you mother, I don’t think I could of done that without you.”