Chapter 3 The Chosen One’s Wardrobe Malfunction

The sun shone from overhead, beating all of us down. I was starting to regret my decision to walk with Finn and his so-called merchant companions. Their pace was quick, but that was hardly the real problem. The problem was Finn himself.

“So, Sam,” Finn began, breaking yet another peaceful moment of silence as we navigated the dense undergrowth of the forest. “What brings you to this fine neck of the woods? Not exactly a good place for a nap.”

“Just passing through,” I replied curtly, not bothering to elaborate. I did not want to give away more than I had to. I still had no reason to trust these armed ‘merchants’ and already regretted giving him my name to begin with.

Finn laughed. It was a light, carefree sound that grated on my nerves.

“So, you’re not really merchants, huh?” I asked casually as I stepped over a particularly gnarled tree root. Finn was a few paces ahead of me, skillfully walking backwards without tripping on the roots; his gait was rather impressive. “What’s the most valuable thing you’ve ever sold?”

“Ah, great question!” Finn said, snapping his fingers. “There was this one time I traded a rare gemstone—blue as the morning sky—to a desperate nobleman. Got a whole herd of goats in exchange. A fair deal, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure,” I said dryly. “Because every merchant dreams of herding goats.”

Finn grinned. “Not just any goats, my friend. Prize-winning goats. Best milk I’ve ever tasted.”

I nodded slowly, pretending to believe him. “Right. And what happened to those prize-winning goats?”

“Oh, tragic story,” he replied, his expression turning somber in an exaggerated way. “Bandits. Stole the whole herd. I barely escaped with my life.”

“Bandits,” I echoed, looking around at his companions, who exchanged barely perceptible smirks, their expressions betraying what little faith even they had in Finn’s tales. His stories were as flimsy as his supposed merchant packs, and the way his companions leered hungrily at me told me I wasn’t the only one who didn’t buy them. Either he thought I was an idiot, or he was hiding something. Or maybe it was both.

Finn, either not noticing or not caring about my growing suspicion kept walking, his pace undeterred. A while back he had led us off the road, and into the forest, claiming it was a shortcut. This had only added to my growing suspicions but I still wasn’t too worried. If I had to choose between being robbed by humans or ambushed by the forest beasts, the choice wasn’t hard.

Finn stepped over a fallen branch and turned to face me once again as he walked backward.

“So where exactly were you headed? After Spuria I mean.” he asked, clearly fishing for something,. The more he talked, the more suspicious I became. By now, I wasn’t even sure if they were simple bandits. A bandit would just stab you and be done with it. He wouldn’t be asking you about how your weekend was going.

“East,” I said, keeping my answer short. Maybe if I gave him nothing, he’d get bored and stop nagging me.

But luck just wasn’t on my side. Finn was still as unbothered as ever. “East! That’s nice. Nice direction. You know, I’ve always thought east was underrated. People always talk about going north or south, but east has a certain, quiet charm to it. Suits a man such as you.”

I stared at him, unimpressed. How could anyone say so much without actually saying anything? He grinned back at me, all wide-eyed sincerity, like he didn’t even notice nor cared about how ridiculous he sounded.

Behind him, his three companions—two men and a woman—moved silently, their eyes scanning the forest like hawks. They were armed to the teeth with weapons that looked far too practical for merchant work.

My eyes lingered on their packs, which were suspiciously flimsy. Merchants didn’t travel light, and yet here they were, supposedly on a trade route with nothing but mostly empty bags and an overabundance of weapons.

“So, what kind of goods are you currently carrying?” I asked, pretending to be casually interested.

Finn threw his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture. “Oh, the usual! Trinkets, baubles, and life-saving necessities. Whatever folks are desperate for, you know?”

“Desperate people must love your empty bags,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?” Finn asked, leaning closer.

“Nothing,” I replied flatly.

He laughed again, and my annoyance only grew at the sound. Either this guy was genuinely oblivious, or he was deflecting on purpose. I continued trying to test him. “And you’ve been doing this merchant thing for how long?”

“Long enough!” he replied brightly.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the best one I’ve got!” he said with a wink, spinning around to avoid a low-hanging branch.

I didn’t press further. At this rate, I’d get more honesty out of the six-armed monkey I’d seen earlier. Still, I made a mental note to watch Finn and his crew more closely. Something about them didn’t add up, and there was no way I was about to let my guard down.

We walked for hours, the forest thinning slightly as we went. My feet moved on autopilot, while Finn’s endless chatter faded into background.

As I was walking, I looked up at the canopies, swaying gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling noisily against the open sky. The sun peeked out from behind them, and I suddenly felt a nagging sense of unease creep over me. I slowed my pace and retrieved the childishly drawn map I had found in the hut.

It seemed even more crude than I had remembered, like something a bored kid would doodle on the corner of a napkin. Trees were indiscernible and uneven scrawls, the lake was a misshapen blob, and the sun—drawn with a cartoonish grin—somehow seemed smugger than before. I glanced up at the real sun, squinting as I tried to orient myself. Something wasn’t adding up.

The houses labeled “Spuria” on the map were supposed to be east. The sun, now high overhead should’ve been tilting westward. And according to that, the direction we were heading in was north.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I kept my cool and pretended as if nothing was out of place as we walked on. I glanced back toward the men and woman behind me, their grips tight around their weapons.

Either Finn didn’t know where he was going, or he was intentionally leading me away from the town. I clenched the map in my hand, weighing my options. The thought of confronting him crossed my mind, but I discarded it quickly. What was I supposed to say?

‘Hey, random stranger who definitely isn’t acting the least bit suspicious, care to explain why we’re heading toward the middle of nowhere instead of civilization?’

Yeah, that’d go over well. I folded the map and tucked it into my pocket, my eyes darting to the back of Finn’s ever-cheerful head.

Finn noticed my slowed pace and turned back, his plastered grin faltering slightly. “Something wrong?”

I folded the map carefully, tucking it back into my pocket. “Nope. Just realized I’m going the wrong way.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and started running back the way we’d come.

“Hey!” Finn’s voice rang out behind me. “Wait up!”

Stupid request. Why did villains always say that sort of stuff? What idiot in their right mind would stop running just because his potential killer had requested it.

I ran with all my strength, trying to get as far away from Finn and his group as possible. Whether they were liars, thieves, or worse, I wasn’t about to stick around to find out.

The sound of hurried footsteps reached my ears, followed by the unmistakable twang of a bowstring. An arrow zipped past my head, embedding itself in the trunk of a tree.

“Seriously?” I muttered, as another arrow whizzed by my ear.

As I rounded a tree, a knife whistled through the air, and embedded itself in the trunk. These guys weren’t playing around. If I’d had even the slightest shred of doubt about them not being merchants, it was gone now.

They kept chasing me for what felt like hours. Arrows thudded into the trees around me, sharp and fast, forcing me to dart and weave through the forest like a helpless rabbit fleeing a pack of hungry wolves. The undergrowth clawed at my legs, and a gnarled root, almost made me trip. An arrow sliced past my ear; the rush of air sharp enough to make me flinch.

“Cultist scum!” Finn’s voice boomed from behind me, loud and furious.

I gritted my teeth. Cultist? They’d known me for, what, half a day? Another knife whipped past me, lodging itself in a tree trunk with a solid thunk.

I ducked behind the next tree, pressing my back against its rough bark. The physical exertion hadn’t caught up to me yet, but the whole situation was wearing thin on my nerves. Crouching low, I tried to crawl through the underbrush, keeping my movements quiet.

I glanced around for a clear path forward. They were closing in—shadows flickered through the trees as their footfalls grew louder. A low branch blocked my way, forcing me to crawl even lower under it, but it snapped back loudly as I let go, surely giving away my position. I scrambled forward, as another arrow landed near my feet.

“Why,” I muttered under my breath as I got up to run again, “does everything and everyone in this world want me dead?”

“Get back here you filthy Cultist!” Finn’s voice boomed again.

The cultist remarks seemed strange. I kept running, but the confusion lingered in the back of my mind. Was this some new sort of insult I wasn’t aware of or did they really think I was part of some cult?

Suddenly the trees gave way and I stumbled upon a dirt road. There was no point in trying to outrun them, so I stopped abruptly and spun around, raising my hands in what I hoped was a non-threatening gesture of surrender. “Wait!” I shouted.

Clearly not willing to listen, one of Finn’s men lunged at me with a spear. For a split second, all I could think was I really don’t want to be here.

Just as I had the thought, I felt something in me shift. My guts tightened in a strange way. There was a whooshing sound as the world around me blurred, and suddenly I was two meters to the right of where I’d been standing and the spear hit nothing but empty air.

I had just teleported. It would have been nice to know I could do that before, but at least my guts were currently still where they belonged inside my body and not on the head of a spear .

The freezing air hit me in a way that made me realize something was very, very wrong. I glanced down and, sure enough, I had somehow forgotten to teleport my clothes. They were still where I had been standing a split second ago.

There was a long, awkward silence. The group stared at me; their weapons momentarily lowered. One of the men blinked slowly, as if trying to process what had just happened.

Then Finn burst out laughing. A loud, uncontrollable belly laugh that bent him double. The woman in his group clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her giggles, but her shoulders shook with added mirth. Even the stoic guy with the crossbow cracked a grin.

“Did he—” Finn wheezed, struggling to get words out between fits of laughter, “did he just… teleport out of his pants?”

“Yup,” one of his companions replied, deadpan.

I stood there, stark naked, arms crossed, glaring at them. The least they could do was be professional about my humiliation.

Finn wiped a tear from his eye, his grin still wide. “You might be part of the Cult, but I’ll give you this—you’re hilarious.”

“Look closer,” one of the others said, recovering from his laughter. His tone turned serious. “He doesn’t have the tattoo.”

The group’s laughter faltered as they stepped forward, squinting at me like I was some kind of rare animal on display. Finn tilted his head, his gaze lingering on my bare arm. “Huh. No mark. They’re all supposed to have those. It’s what allows them to channel their God’s powers. Guess you’re not a Cultist after all.”

“You don’t say,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. I turned to the man who’d tried to skewer me earlier and pointed to my clothes, lying at his feet. “Think you could hand me those?”

The man hesitated, glancing at Finn like he needed permission. Finn shrugged, and after a moment the guy picked up the bundle and tossed it to me.

I dressed quickly, tugging the knots tighter than necessary. When I was done, I crossed my arms and stared Finn down, waiting for an explanation.

He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. “Okay, uh, sorry about that. We thought you were with the Cult. You know, because you were just… hanging out alone in the forest. Suspicious, right?”

I didn’t bother saying anything. Instead, I sighed heavily. “Whatever.”

Finn took my silence as permission to keep talking. “See, we’re with the Order of the Veil. We’ve been on high alert ever since someone unsealed the ancient Demonic Pillar in the area. Only a truly evil—or truly idiotic—person would’ve done that. We suspected it was the Cult, because there had been rumors about them turning up here recently.”

I stiffened but kept my face neutral and expressions in check. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. I was the idiot responsible for the ordeal he’d just narrated. But I wasn’t about to admit that to him.

“So, my superiors in the Order of the Veil asked me to track down the person responsible for that whole debacle, and bring him back to headquarters. That was where we were taking you.”

Finn grinned, clearly expecting me to ask what the Order of the Veil was.

I didn’t.

But he launched right into talking again, giving some backstory about some stupid Order that remains mysterious and tries to protect the world from the shadows.

I zoned out and stared up at the treetops in exhaustion. Finn’s blabbering mouth was starting to get more annoying than the arrows. I wished for something that could finally shut him up.

Suddenly, the air around us shimmered, and a dark-robed figure appeared in a puff of smoke.

“All hail the Dark God!” the man screamed, his voice unnaturally loud and echoing.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I really need to stop wishing for things.”