An honour granted once every thousand years as the Wither was set to return, the party of the chosen one was to be picked by fate itself. Arthur's heart pounded in anticipation. He knew he was going to be chosen…unfortunately.
Lurisa waited at home many kilometres away from where she wished to end up. Her eyes shut tight. She had trained for this for so long.
In the grand hall, the kingdom of Albosa, the grand wizard Kelemith began to speak to the thousands formed. "Of course, to start there must always be a mage to accompany our hero." He snapped his fingers and thousands of letters highlighted in a green translucent aura shone. They swirled around and shot into his hand like falling stars. "Lurisa Latixia." Smoke radiated by the grand wizard and there stood a beautiful young pale woman, soft cheeks, big shy blue eyes, wearing a red robe with white strands. Everyone clapped. She smiled nervously realising what had just occurred, she was picked by fate itself to help the chosen one. The grand wizard gestured her to wait with him and gave her a silent congratulations. This was her moment, she watched all those celebrate and clap for her.
"Next, we all know how important it is to have wisdom. So our next sage is," the letters were cyan this time as they travelled around, "Samara Isomen," a dark skinned woman in her thirties, who looked rather shook, in fact, she looked ready for bed! Her face narrowed and her lips pointed out as she rubbed her eyes in her pyjamas.
Maybe she trained harder than me and had to sleep? Lurisa hoped.
The wizard snapped and suddenly a beautiful white and gold tunic was being worn by her. Samara stood next to Lurisa, she rubbed her nose and shook Lurisa's hand, she kindly still shook it reluctantly.
"Now, the one people enjoy the most. The warrior who will undoubtedly defeat the beasts to pave the way for our chosen hero. The knight of dawn and twilight, the breaker of demon hearts." Letters flared with an orange tint, although this time there were half as many letters than the last two. As the letter landed the grand wizard smiled nostalgically, "Arthur Starfinder." No poof this time, from behind steps echoed and a man blazing in ebony armour ushered out to the group. He was tall, broad, olive skin and had rugged dark features, stepping to them. It was as if his face spoke the words, "Honour."
"And last but not least for our party, we need a legendary blacksmith, who will create the weapon to slay the Wither once and for all after collecting the hearts of the Wither's three generals. No need to delay." Letters in black floated, but this time they didn't swirl. It was as if the letters were unsure what to do. The letters floated above in a flat line like a dead sea, they all fell to the ground and disappeared except the four letters that landed on Kelemith's fist, even he wasn't prepared. "Er, the legendary forger to create our celestial weapons and shields will be, eh." He turned to another wizard beside him, "This can't be right?" The other wizard just turned his eyes and shifted himself awkwardly. Kelemith continued, "Bill." He licked his lips, "Just Bill."
Bill the blacksmith appeared. Eighteen, a large protruding belly, sweat dripping from his forehead and a bright red beard that most older men would be jealous of. His head twisted with shock, "Where the fu–"
Kelemith quickly interrupted whatever poetic quote Bill was about to let loose, "And now, for our champion, our hero, our chosen. The reincarnation of our legendary saviour from over ten thousand years ago." Letters of a heavenly white flowed, only enough for one name, of course, since they were the chosen one.
The sun itself shifted a ray of light through the vacuum of space to the very point where they would appear. Gasps clustered the room, for months now, only the clouds could be seen in the sky. The sun and stars hadn't been watched clearly since. Blinding everyone within the castle, hair as bright as light, yellow eyes sharp like a cat and a tall slender figure like an athlete. Wearing a white cape with the sun embroidered on it, a bronze chest plate and the helm in her hand, there she was.
"Elara of Experience."
At first, they didn't clap, the people were simply too stunned. This was their messiah, someone who they waited for to save them. Someone, they didn't exactly deserve. A roar boomed from the kingdom itself.
Bill watched with thought, he had absolutely no idea what was going on. Lurisa, aghast at how beautiful she was couldn't fathom how she was meant to help her.
Elara nodded to the party, they all felt chills, except Bill, he was ruminating about whether he had left the fire on in the house. She turned to the peasants–she didn't think that. Never! These were her people. And so, she turned to the disgusting civilians of Albosa, "My journey will begin here, and it will end here in celebration."
Elara stepped away and began to leave. Arthur eyed the others and they were all unsure of what procedure was here, once Elara got far enough they rushed to her side. The golden gates swept open to reveal…dying trees, a dreary grey sky, dull fields with deathly yellow roots holding them up. Oh, Elara had been expecting popping beauty, fields with not just green but with the highlighted red stems of the morgal roots that grew, they were like a mix of trees and mushrooms but seemed more fluid. They were gone. Rarely was she ever called upon when the Wither had already blighted the land.
Lurisa excitedly held her staff, it wasn't for magic or anything, she just used it for hiking. She held it close to her bosom and asked, "Lady Elara?"
She brushed her hand in the air, "Talk to me from behind, I like to be in front in case something were to attack." That was a lie. Elara was afraid to catch any sickness from these people.
"Well, I just wanted to say it's an honour to be working with all of you. You've all been chosen for a reason and I'm humbled to be in your presence," Lurisa smiled.
Arthur smiled back causing her to blush, he was quite handsome and they were both seventeen, she had heard of him before, the King's second born but the rightful heir as stories told. She didn't even notice the king at the ceremony, why wouldn't he show up?
Samara huffed, Stuck with a group of teenagers. Note to self Samara, life always gets worse. Always.
Who's going to feed the cat! Bill wondered.
Arthur noticed they were only a minute away from leaving the city gates, Oh gods, I've made a horrible, horrible mistake.
Lurisa confidently walked behind Elara, We are of the chosen, she smirked with a real sense of achievement.
After an hour of walking, Bill needed to sit down. Elara rolled her eyes, the last group she was with, in her last reincarnation were real warriors. The last blacksmith was pure muscle, so much so that he didn't use a hammer when forging, just his fists. Elara set a few logs down in the dried field, she snapped her fingers and fire lit the timber. Lurisa backed up, "That's my job?"
Elara laughed, "Oh, dear. You're here just to document the travel, to tell the ages what happened. No one does anything but me. Last time the mage like you just kept creating a potion of intoxication for the group except me.
"You mean alcohol?" Lurisa asked.
"If that's what the kids are calling it now?" Elara said.
Lurisa could hide her malcontent, "So we do, nothing?"
"Nope. Nothing. Zilch. Well, bar walking with me. And remembering what happened. And actually, forgetting some moments that I'd be embarrassed of. Thinking about it, you guys do a lot," Elara said.
Thank the gods. Thank them! They must love me if this is what the journey contains for me. Arthur exclaimed.
Lurisa's dreams were torn apart, eviscerated, she wanted to be the greatest mage the chosen one had ever seen and now that was just someone who got everyone drunk, an embellished barmaid? So, essentially, Elara was amazing at everything and needed no help. Great, she thought, just great.
Three hours went by, Elara had already saved a child from an attack of foul Feasters, creatures with matted fur, weighed twice as much as any man and gnarled for blood. Even the best knights didn't like to fight them since they were so erratic in their movements. Elara had just taken out a den of twenty…Lurisa knew it was wrong to feel this way, but it made it so boring! She couldn't be human, she thought. Arthur talked to the locals of the village where the child was from, he took credit for some of the kills even though he was eating a sandwich during it all. Lurisa at first did find him handsome, she even assumed she would have a crush on him at some stage, but that wasn't going to happen anymore. Bill was more likely to be her next crush and he was, 'sneakily,' picking his nose and flicking it toward the ground.
Samara seemed to be the only normal one, she didn't say a lot but she was constantly searching the soil for fragments of lenses. It was like a magical shard that would fuel Lurisa, Elara definitely didn't need it. It became clear that her power stemmed from solely within while Lurisa had to use external sources to boost herself. They were worth quite a bit, one would pay a week's wage. Lurisa was glad that someone was trying to help.
I'm never going to pay off this debt, am I? Samara sighed, if I just found nine hundred lenses I'd be able to pay it back. Or I could gamble it and win it all back and more? Indeed, Samara was a sage of wisdom for a reason, surely there was a reason?
Later Elara told the villagers they were safe and then held out a patch, ethereal gems, worth fortunes, "The feasters had this in their den, thought you guys would like it," She threw the pouch to the ragged villager. Again, she wasn't going to dirty herself or catch lice from them.
Onward. Arthur never anticipated the journey would be like this. Was it ever going to be perfect? No. But did he expect to grow as a person and have stories worthy to tell his great, great grandchildren–yes. Even though he didn't want to fight, he secretly hoped to become someone who could. In the far view, the sea of pale jasmine fields thrashed in the air, like the earth began to unnaturally shake. Stomping. A herd of cattle stampeding? Darkness stitched itself between the clouds. Even the trees had become dark. A veil of nothingness surrounded them. Elara pulled out what looked like a string, it was so thin and bright. It didn't even have a handle, it just spawned from her hand.
"What's going on?" Arthur said.
"A demon devil lich lord commander-general."
No way is it actually called that. Lurisa asked, "How do you know?"
"Because he reincarnates too," Elara said.
A black puddle of ooze generated in front of them, like a vortex of hatred. Its arms folded as the dark tornado around dissipated. Its head, huge like a statue, mauve fur and slicked straight, its two legs looked like hind legs. It wore a golden helmet revealing its broad snout and white eyes. It snorted, "Elara, once again I have the pleasure of meeting you."
"Likewise, Detritus," she spat.
"Cool name," Bill said, somewhat unaware this was a demon lord he spoke to.
"Thanks," Detritus accepted the compliment. That compliment actually meant a lot to him. He smirked.
Did he just blush! Lurisa wondered.
Pulling a spear from their own skin, Detritus held the long six-foot spear by his side, even compared to them it wasn't tall, they were at least ten feet in height.
"Elara, do you remember the last time we fought?" Detritus added, "It went on for three days, what a fight. And to think that measly beam can deal so much damage."
Elara stared at her beam of light, "Small things come in big packages."
"That's what they all say," Samara rolled her eyes.
Detritus whipped their spear in the air, whistling through as it cut the air. Rolling the spear like a circus act around their arms and fingers. Detritus was rather nimble for a ten foot beast. "Today will mark your death and the end of this world," Detritus pointed the spear at Elara.
"Oh, I won't be dying. Not to you!" Elara shouted.
Lurisa found the spear scathing against Arthur's neck. His chin rattled like a chainsaw. Lurisa realised just then, he was no warrior, or not a heroic one anyway. Detritus pitied him, "Just a boy. No, I don't have to kill these peasants, only you."
Elara sprang up and swiped viciously at Detritus. The two moved so fast, even their eyes were no match for the speed. Lurisa held her breath and activated her ice eyes. She was akin to ice for her magic, she found it had the best variety. Her eyes glowed bright and allowed her to see everything slower, although it didn't grant much advantage for her since she was awful at fighting in close quarters. Lurisa, unfortunately, realised why Elara said they do nothing on the journey, she had ascended their dimension of power.
Detritus blocked a blow and elbowed Elara. She fell to the ground and wiped her nose, "I've gotten rusty," she laughed. Lashing a blow to Detritus, she aimed for their groin, the slash was enough to put them off balance. Another swipe but Detritus was too swift. They turned on their hind legs and kicked back at Elara. Her armour, dented by the demon. Yet, she got up as if nothing happened. The rest of the group felt the power behind the blow, it would have killed any of them instantly. The remnants of the kick caused a strong gust to push back the party. Elara held her beam defiantly to the sky with one arm. One singular ray of light dawned upon it flashing everyone in the veil of darkness, Detritus held up their right forearm to stop the blinding. A thump hit the ground. Detritus opened their eyes, Elara was on the tip of her feet as if she were about to jump, or after landing from a leap…their eyes opened in horror to see their mauve arm on the ground. Detritus screeched and charged at Elara. The veil was gone due to the light, Detritus missed Elara but kept charging. Crashing into a thick tree, they picked it up with one arm, at least two hundred kilograms worth. Roaring from the top of their lungs, Detritus launched the tree at the party.
Oh, gods, this is it, isn't it? Arthur shed a tear.
Splitting the path of the unrooted tree was Elara's beam as it scattered to the left and right of the party. She really was a hero! Elara closed her eyes, "O' light, devour this darkness. Purge the abyss of hate."
Dramatically raising her sword to her hip pointed straight, she didn't look up once. Leaping at a speed Lurisa couldn't even see, it must have been faster than sound, she impaled Detritus. Their canine teeth were still out of their jaw ready to roar. "Until we meet again, Detritus."
Detritus toppled and plunged to the ground, the body weight falling could be felt by the quiver of the soil. Elara let out a held breath. Cracking her neck, she sliced down on Detritus' chest and opened a gaping hole, reaching in with her arm, to pull out a crystal heart. She patted the dead fur of Detritus, "Well done guys."
Lurisa's mouth was still open, she was afraid she had started to drool, she was so dumbfounded, "Elara, that was amazing. You're like a God."
"I'm still just human, just like you guys."
Bill touched Elara with his index finger on her cheek, "Feels human."
Elara had a disgusted face at first but then she laughed at the simpleton, "Indeed, I am."
Samara searched Detritus and extracted their claws in hopes it'd fetch some money. She was going to clip some fur but it had a revolting acidic smell, so she left it.
Without Elara the group had to admit, they wouldn't have survived even ten seconds. Lurisa set up a fire that night, refusing to let Elara do any more work. At first, she had to admit, she was insanely jealous of her being so perfect and thank the gods she was. They had their fire by a boulder to shield the fire from the wind. Samara threw the claws on top of the boulder, embarrassed that she was essentially stealing from a corpse.
"What was it like being reincarnated?" Arthur asked.
Elara thought for a moment, "It's, alright I suppose. Last time I was a man actually."
Arthur put out his fist, "Men for the win, am I right?"
Elara fist bumped him gently and continued, "Sure? But yeah it's like waking up again. After I defeat the Wither I'll live a nice full life and die of old age then come back to do it all over again."
"Does it get boring?" Samara showed interest for the first time.
She shook her head, "Never. The world always changed dramatically. A thousand years ago they were so much more advance–" She awkwardly paused, they all looked so happy, it would be cruel to say the truth, "Advanced at being barbarians than the thousand years before that. You guys though. True gentlemen and classy women." What a slick recovery, she thought.
Arthur stood up. Lurisa still looked at him wondering how could someone so cowardly could be the chosen knight for the chosen one. They were meant to be undefeated in combat and there was no way for a soldier who's been bested to be chosen. And yet she had witnessed him cry at the sight of Detritus. Arthur exclaimed, "Elara, could you show me how to wield a sword. I mean, of course, I know how. But I can still learn."
"Of course," she smiled. She thought it a good idea, even if she was so powerful, she couldn't be in two places at once. Maybe Arthur could save someone when she couldn't.
Bill interrupted, "Elara can you show us the light move you used again." It had gotten dark by this time, Lurisa assumed Bill wondered if Elara could turn night into day just for a second.
Elara shook her head, then Bill pouted his lips. Her emotions shifted from not caring to feeling bad for his eyes without much thought. "Alright then. Watch this." She climbed the boulder in the dark with relative ease and heaved herself up. "Okay, you watching?" she asked. She wanted to make it look epic. For some reason, this group of followers were growing on her and she felt the need to impress them.
Swirling her arm from behind and above, she summoned the beam and lashed it into the air. As she swung it she shifted her right foot forward…landing on the claws of Detritus. A bright light flashed allowing them all to see Elara's foot roll and slip on the claws. She yelped and fell backwards followed by a crunching echo.
"Elara." Lurisa ran to the back of the boulder. She snapped her fingers and a small flame bulb followed her, illuminating the view.
"Elara?" she asked seeing she hadn't bounced back up. She veered closer, inspecting her…blood. Crimson fluid rushed from the back of her head. A small sharp rock flowed with blood behind her skull. Samara patted the girl down and pressed her fingers under her jaw. Samara turned to the others, her skin flushed and dread scarred across her face, "She's dead. The chosen one is dead!"