The chimes of the Bell of Bestowal resounded through the expansive city square, their reverberations mixing with the sound of the bustling crowd that had eagerly congregated to partake in New Year’s Blessing. Every single eye was focused upon the structure, anticipation and hope intertwining in the air. The murmurs of the people intermixed with the fading echoes of the chimes, creating a symphony of anticipation that swelled within their hearts.
Near the Bell of Bestowal, a group of nobles and dignitaries stood, their gazes fixed on the towering structure. Alistar Gadaran, the young master of House Gadaran, wore a self-assured smile, convinced that this would be his moment of glory. He had spent years cultivating an image of leadership and skill, believing himself to be the natural choice to become the new Chosen.
Next to him, Lady Seraphina, a prominent noblewoman, whispered excitedly to her companion. "Do you think it will be Alistar?"
Her companion, Lord Thaddeus, shrugged nonchalantly. "Who knows? These matters are fickle, my dear. Augustus works in mysterious ways."
As the echoes of the chimes subsided, an atmosphere of collective breath-holding spread throughout the expectant crowd, their senses attuned to every tremor, eagerly awaiting. Wide-eyed and with hearts pounding in their chests, they searched for a sign, a revelation that would usher in a change. However, much to the bewilderment of the onlookers, an unsettling silence descended upon the square.
Confusion seized the masses as they grappled with the turn of events, their minds uncertain. Whispers of doubt and unease intermingled with the lingering embers of hope that flickered within their hearts. Just as the confusion seemed to reach its peak, an awe-inspiring burst of radiance, as resplendent as the rays of dawn, emanated from the Bell of Bestowal.
Gasps of astonishment escaped the lips of the onlookers as they instinctively shielded their eyes, their vision overpowered. The luminescent spectacle danced and swirled, as if controlled by divine hands, imbuing the air with an ethereal quality. The crowd stood frozen, their gazes locked onto the sight unfolding before them, unable to look away.
The light enveloped the entire plaza, casting a glow that bathed the faces of the bewildered onlookers, highlighting their astonishment and awe. Eyes darted from one another to the bell, their minds racing to understand the significance behind this event. They knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a Chosen had indeed been anointed on this fateful day, yet the identity of the Chosen remained unkown.
Whispers of awe and speculation reverberated throughout the plaza. The significance of the light remained a mystery, its purpose hidden. Some amongst the crowd interpreted it as a sign of greatness, a celestial proclamation that heralded extraordinary futures. Others, more cautious in their interpretations, perceived it as a symbol of responsibility.
As the luminescent beam gradually faded, gently receding until the plaza was bathed in a soft glow, the crowd remained in a state of wonder. Their gazes met in a shared exchange of perplexed glances, their expressions mirroring the lingering traces of confusion that clung to their minds. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a collective spark of hope stirred within each individual, an ember of belief that the path ahead held untold promises.
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Aurelius, still struggling to rise from the alleyway, froze as the resonating chimes of the Bell of Bestowal reached his ears. The sound seemed to cut through the chaos of the city, commanding attention from all who heard it. Confusion washed over him, mingling with the pain that still throbbed in his body.
However, his attention quickly shifted when a new wave of excruciating pain surged through him, causing him to clutch his side. Aurelius frantically looked around, trying to identify the source of the sudden pain. For better or worse, he found himself still alone in the desolate alleyway. The thought of screaming for help crossed his mind, but he knew that if the guards came looking and found him, they would beat him up for wasting their time.
As the seconds ticked on, the pain only intensified, engulfing his body like a fiery inferno. Every breath became a struggle, and the agony threatened to consume him. Unable to bear the torment any longer, Aurelius succumbed to the darkness, slipping once again into unconsciousness.
When Aurelius regained consciousness, he found himself lying in the same alleyway. The dim light cast a gloomy ambiance, amplifying his confusion and disorientation. As he groaned in frustration, the searing pain still lingered, albeit slightly subdued. The gradual relief brought him a glimmer of hope, despite the persistent discomfort.
Ten agonizing minutes passed before the pain subsided enough for Aurelius to register a noticeable improvement.
Slowly, he gathered his strength, pushing himself up from the ground. As he got up, a sense of wonder washed over him as he realized something extraordinary – he was free from pain. In fact, he felt better than ever.
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With growing excitement, Aurelius gingerly touched his ribs, his fingers tracing the contours of his chest. To his utter amazement, he discovered that all of his ribs were perfectly healed, as if the beating he had endured never transpired. The astonishment lingered, mingled with a tinge of disbelief. The three chimes seemed to have inexplicably healed his injuries.
Intrigued, Aurelius turned his attention to the rest of his body, examining himself more closely. The most striking change was the newfound strength that now filled his once emaciated frame. Gone were the visibly protruding ribs that had plagued him with the nickname “Skeleton.” Instead, he beheld a body that exuded vitality, with a perceptible weight gain.
Still grappling with the marvel of his transformation, Aurelius was startled when a block of text materialized directly in front of him.
You have been Chosen
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High Priest Lorendil
High Priest Lorendil made his way through the grand double doors that led to his quarters, his mind still reeling from the bewildering events at the plaza.
Entering today, High Priest Lorendil had expected, and perhaps even hoped, for the New Year's Blessing to unfold as it had for the past five years. He would speak about Augustus' wisdom, building anticipation among the crowd, only to have Augustus disappointingly withhold the selection of a chosen one.
Things not going according to plan was an understatement.
Of course, High Priest Lorendil had always considered the option of Augustus selecting a Chosen, and had planned for it. But the event that followed the selection of this particular Chosen had far deviated from any normal Chosen selection.
High Priest Lorendil had even been lucky enough to witness the selection of two Chosen in his lifetime. Normally, the Bell of Bestowal would give its famous three chimes, announcing the selection of a High-Elven Chosen. What was absolutely unexpected was that damn beam of light that appeared. High Priest Lorendil couldn't fathom its purpose, as he had never encountered anything like it.
Another deviation from the norm was the mysterious selection process. Typically, the High Priest and others would be aware of the chosen individual's identity. However, this time, it seemed that Augustus wanted to keep the Chosen’s identity hidden. Furthermore, it seemed that the Chosen desired to maintain their anonymity as well, at least for the time being.
Lorendil pondered the reasons behind Augustus' decision to conceal this Chosen’s identity. One obvious concern was safety. It was not uncommon for the Chosen from other races to form alliances and hunt down a newly selected Chosen, exploiting their vulnerable state. Such hunts were generally risky due to the fact that a Chosen was often surrounded, protected, and nurtured by most of their race, at least until they grew much stronger. However, there have been many instances of Chosen hunts that have led to disastrous failures or successful endeavors.
Despite recognizing the legitimate concern of other Chosen targeting the new High Elven Chosen, Lorendil was convinced that Augustus had a different motive for keeping the Chosen's identity concealed. Lorendil speculated that Augustus' real reason he decided to conceal was the fear that this Chosen would be surrounded by individuals secretly plotting for their downfall. It was no secret that the High Elven empire currently had a massive corruption problem that plagued every aspect of its society. For the new Chosen, this corrupt environment would be devastating as Lorendil could already think of more than a few noble houses who would see the Chosen as a destabilizing force that would challenge their authority in the empire. Consequently, these houses would likely seek to eliminate the perceived threat. High Priest Lorendil reluctantly acknowledged that he had harbored similar concerns for the loss of his own power. Recognizing the inherent risks, Lorendil conceded that maintaining the Chosen's identity as a secret, at least in the beginning, would likely provide a safer path until the Chosen was stronger.
From what he knew, Lorendil recognized that the Chosen could embark on multiple different paths to power. Throughout High Elven history, numerous variations of paths had been tread by a Chosen. Among them were those who embraced solely a martial prowess, commanding the empire from the forefront of battle. Sort of like one-man-armies, these Chosen could often only be stopped by another Chosen, the combined might of multiple high-tier mages, or a fighting force comprising hundreds of warriors — yet even then, victory was far from guaranteed.
The other prevalent type of Chosen acted as a traditional administrator and figurehead, governing the empire from the security of the city. Lorendil, despite being a High Priest, remained uncertain about the distinct abilities these Chosen possessed to interact and foster the development of various aspects of the empire.
Typically, Augustus selected a Chosen based on the race's immediate needs. For instance, during times of war, a young, skilled swordsman might be chosen. This is why Lorendil was curious about Augustus' current selection because it seemed evident that the High Elves required a versatile Chosen—a jack of all trades.They needed someone who could address not only internal matters such as rampant corruption but also external challenges posed by encroaching forces of other races.
Such concerns became even more pressing for High Priest Lorendil, who had recently received alarming reports indicating the potential loss of the High Elves' first piece of territory on the Holy Hexagon in centuries.
In the world of Aetheria, consisting of six continents, the High Elven homeland held a special significance. Known as the Holy Hexagon, its name derived from the continent's distinctive hexagonal or ring-like shape. While the different races spanned across various continents in Aetheria, the Holy Hexagon stood as a unique exception. For the past four centuries, it had been exclusively inhabited by the High Elves, a testament to the empire's former strength.
To Lorendil's dismay, reports had arrived detailing the imminent threat of a massive invasion by the Dark Elves from the neighboring continent, targeting the northern tip of the Holy Hexagon. Although the capital city and Lorendil's personal safety remained secure on the southern side of the Holy Hexagon, losing territory on the Holy Hexagon, to the Dark Elves no less, would be a massive blow to the morale of the empire, a sign of its waning strength.
As High Priest Lorendil mulled over these thoughts, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and apprehension. The events of the day had set in motion a chain of events that would undoubtedly shape the future of the High Elven empire.