After the entire drama of getting past the Great Kosiran Bridge, it was a relief to get back into their usual rhythm. All three of them were getting antsy staying in one spot — not just because they were sitting ducks for the Order of Truth, but because it felt wrong to be lazing around while there was still a prophecy hanging over their heads.
They made a beeline towards the Temple of Light on their map, cutting through the terrain without any regard for the intended roads. Not only to make up for lost time, but because Nikolay adamantly refused to travel near the masses of people released by the bridge’s reopening.
Thanks to their shortcut, it only took a mere day for them to reach the forest surrounding the Temple of Time. By the time they neared the forest outskirts, however, the sun had already sunk well below the horizon.
Rascal whinnied apprehensively as they approached the tree-lined border. The dense trees shrouded the entire area in pitch dark, preventing even the faint moonlight from filtering through the canopy.
“Even though we tried to make up for all of that time,” Raine heaved a sigh. “We still have to wait through the night.”
In comparison, Nikolay seemed unfazed. “There should be a town outside the eastern side of the forest. If we go around the forest, we’ll reach there within the hour.”
Following Nikolay’s lead, they continued to tread just out of reach of the forest’s dark embrace. Just as Nikolay had predicted, wooden buildings came into view shortly after. Various shades of brown and white rose high into the night sky, illuminated by the glittering moon. The houses looked much grander than expected for a small town in the middle of Kosira — even the lanterns hanging along the roads were incredibly detailed, down to the centimetre.
Stepping foot inside was like entering a ghost town. Unlike Aurelinne Village, which had Tabitha’s bustling tavern and the markets at its heart, they couldn’t hear a single thing that hinted at human inhabitance. The wind blew through the empty streets, howling in their ears to replace the sounds of chatter and laughter.
Raine waved his flashlight across the street, squinting around at the brick houses around him. “Is there even anyone here? It’s not that late. Even the cafes and stores are empty.”
The uneasy atmosphere unnerved even Nikolay, who already had magic crackling at the ready. “Something’s not right. I have a feeling we should completely bypass this town and go straight towards the Temple of Light.”
As though the town were listening to their conversation, a sign fell onto the road in front of them. Unable to ignore his curiosity, Raine stepped cautiously towards the wooden board.
“Geoyr’s General Goods,” he read aloud. “Why did this sign, of all things, fall in front of us?”
He turned to Nikolay, only to realise that his partner hadn’t been listening. Instead, a newcomer had been caught in the crossfire of Nikolay’s paranoia. The man didn’t look threatening at all — though the same thing could be said of anybody staring down Nikolay. He wore a drab uniform, but the shirt had gone through one too many washes to distinguish the logo.
Nikolay shot a dark glare at him. “What’s wrong with this town?”
“W-What’s wrong?” he stammered. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong… Excuse me sir, I need to…”
The man slowly sidled his way towards the dropped sign, meaning to pick it up. Unfortunately for him, that also meant he was inching closer to Raine. And the worst thing anyone could do under Nikolay’s watch was to approach Raine.
“Don’t move any further!” Nikolay shouted, blue strings appearing to tie down the man’s ankles. “Tell us why nobody is in this town.”
Wide, saucer-like eyes met steely, fierce ones.
“Everyone is preparing…” he trailed off, glancing nervously down at the binds on his ankles. “I’m the only one still opening my store. In case anybody needs groceries.”
“Preparing for what?” Raine asked incredulously. “Is there a festival or something?”
“Sort of like a festival. It hasn’t happened yet. We’re just preparing for when it happens.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” Raine frowned. “I thought celebrations usually fell on a specific day.”
“We’re waiting for someone to visit our town. The Chosen One.”
Those three cursed words.
Nikolay clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickly waved away the binds on the shopkeeper. “Take your sign. Don’t tell anyone we were here.”
“O- Okay.”
Alas, only the wind heard his reply, because Nikolay and Raine were already making their way down the street.
“What do we do? How do they know?” Raine asked, switching off his flashlight.
“I have no clue, but it won’t matter as long as we get out of here,” Nikolay muttered back.
They huddled together in a poor attempt at being inconspicuous, despite the entire street being empty beside them. Rascal got the memo shortly after, clopping a short distance behind. She didn’t want to be left behind either, after all.
However, their efforts proved to be futile soon enough. A procession of people blocked their passage down the street. Not only this, but this group was heading straight towards them.
A quiet sigh escaped Nikolay. “We’ll have to cut through a-”
Before he could enact his plan, a loud voice shouted, “Is that the Chosen One?”
A chorus of exclamations followed shortly after, and the clique began dashing towards them. All but one who, judging from the clothing, was a priest. He calmly stepped forward with purpose, arms folded behind his back.
Raine and Nikolay, with nowhere to run, were helpless to do anything but stare warily at the people surrounding them. Blue magic fluttered beneath Nikolay’s sigil, but was left unactivated for now.
“You,” the priest said, his voice rumbling low. “O Chosen One, thank you for blessing our town with your presence.”
Strangely enough, he wasn’t talking to Raine.
His eyes were staring directly at Nikolay, who felt as perplexed as Raine looked.
There was still a possibility that the ‘Chosen One’ was from a different folklore, and it just coincided with their passing by. After all, it was possible that it was just a story behind the certain festival.
Better to deny knowing anything, just in case a misunderstanding occurred.
“Chosen One? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nikolay said through gritted teeth.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“You’re Raine, correct? The dark and curly hair, the sharp face… You look exactly like this sketch!”
To hammer in his point, the priest pulled out a scarily accurate drawing of Nikolay, down to the minute detail.
Well, that changed things.
First of all, how did they know their names? And second of all, how did the information get twisted so that their names were reversed?
Everyone that they’d met had seen Nikolay and Raine separately — it was difficult to mistake two completely different people. To mix them up, it would’ve had to have been while they were sharing the same body. There weren’t many people that came to mind under these circumstances.
Navi, from the ship that took them to Kosira. She was most likely already gone and in another nation at this point.
Eireia, the little girl that they’d ‘saved’. He wasn’t stupid enough to suspect her.
Irideis, the mysterious guide, claiming to be sent by the gods. Their claim seemed sound for now — short of divine intervention, there was no other explanation for how they knew so much.
Then, that left one other person…
Guthasar. The immortal behind the Order of Truth, who also happened to have it out for Nikolay and Raine.
As for how these townsfolk received their names from Guthasar, Nikolay was still at a loss. Perhaps Guthasar knew they’d pass through this town, and leaked their identities to the townsfolk to stop them.
“I’m not the Chosen One,” Nikolay said slowly. “You’ve got the wrong person.”
Which wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Then explain why we have a detailed sketch of a man that looks exactly like you.”
Nikolay groaned internally. They were right; it was near impossible to argue with physical evidence.
“Even if it wasn’t you,” another villager interjected. “Who else would it be? Do you have any other ideas?”
Beside him, Nikolay felt Raine stiffen in response. Telling the truth seemed like a dangerous game to play, considering that they didn’t fully know the motives behind this ‘festival’. The artifacts were still in Raine’s possession. And most importantly, Nikolay wasn’t keen on throwing Raine head-first into danger.
“I’m not…” Nikolay aggressively raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m simply not the Chosen One. There’s not much explaining I can do. It’s just not me.”
“We understand that you cannot trust us, but we shall prove ourselves worthy in due time,” the priest said calmly. “As such, we will host an exquisite banquet in honour of your arrival. I hope that the food and drink of our village is sufficient enough for your approval.”
Nikolay didn’t need to turn his head to know that Raine was currently salivating over the prospect of a feast. If he declined, there was no telling whether Raine would willingly take up the mantle of Chosen One for the sake of the first decent food in weeks.
“…Fine,” Nikolay said through gritted teeth. “Do what you must.”
At least for now, the people didn’t look like they had any obvious bad intentions.
—
Following Nikolay’s begrudging admittance of being the ‘Chosen One’, the townsfolk dragged them into a flurry of different routines.
Parchment stained with ink, canvases decorated with paint, bells rung and gongs struck. Objects pushed into their hands that they couldn’t begin to guess the function of. Celebrations, exclamations, declarations, expressions of gratitude for things Nikolay wasn’t even responsible for.
At some points, they attempted to separate Nikolay and Raine by force, but this yielded far from a few threats and multiple magic-induced burns. Raine tried to apologise for the misunderstanding, but nobody was willing to step foot near him after witnessing the dire consequences.
Thankfully, the last of their tiring chores finally gave them room to breathe.
“Change into these ceremonial robes for the banquet tonight,” a maid had said to them.
Then, the housemaids ushered them into an empty room separated by paper dividing screens for privacy.
As with all things, Nikolay efficiently made sense of the multiple layers and finished well before Raine did. He stepped out from behind his paper screen, glancing around at the common area. It looked ancient, though well-cared for. Mahogany archways and beams supported the entire building, while beautiful silk decorations and bright lanterns hung from them.
But inspecting the architecture only went so far to abate his impatience.
He didn’t have to wait much longer though, because Nikolay heard the sound of Raine yelping, followed by the dull thud of him falling on the bamboo floor.
“Are you okay?” Nikolay called out, rushing to the screen.
“Ow… Yes, I’m fine. It’s just so hard to walk in this. Coming out now.”
Raine stepped out from behind the folding screen, giving a mocking twirl. Contrary to his half-hearted efforts, the long skirt flared out in a flawless, mesmerising circle. The cloud patterned silk was adorned with gold embroidery that glittered under the bright overhead lights. It perfectly complemented Raine’s blue-greyish eyes, as well as the jewellery-like artifacts that he chose to still wear proudly.
“Couple more layers and I could’ve become a mummy,” Raine joked.
He waited for a blunt response, most likely about wearing the complex layers incorrectly. But as he observed Nikolay’s unblinking gaze, Raine realised that no such response was coming anytime soon.
Raine tilted his head playfully, a smirk forming. “Like what you see?”
Like an animal caught in the spotlight, Nikolay quickly jerked his head away from Raine’s apparently entrancing figure.
“Just surprised to see you wear something other than a t-shirt and jeans,” Nikolay retorted stiffly, though he continued to avoid eye contact.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Raine grinned.
He wasn’t lying, either. While Nikolay had adamantly rejected the excessive, flowy ceremonial robes, the priest had managed to convince him to wear a black and gold two-piece set. It was certainly more elaborate than his usual form-fitting turtleneck, at the very least.
“How fast do you think you can run in those hundred layers?” Nikolay asked, eyes dutifully trained at the fabric dragging along the floor.
“…What are you planning?”
“Nothing, yet.”
“Come on, Kolya. I know you haven’t slept properly in days. Can’t you let yourself go, just for tonight?” Raine cracked a warm smile. “This whole procession is all about you, after all.”
Nikolay’s face turned cold.
“No, it’s supposed to be about you. You’re the Chosen One, not me. I’m just-”
He bit his tongue and fell silent. Although unspoken, the rest of the sentence still carried over as clearly as if he hadn’t stopped halfway.
Hesitantly, Raine reached out with a hand to comfort Nikolay. They were deathly still for a moment, acutely aware of Raine’s hand hovering just barely above Nikolay’s shoulder. Both were unconsciously breathing in sync, a testament to the myriad of emotions simultaneously blazing through their minds.
A knock on the door shattered the tension in the atmosphere. Their heads turned towards the maid, who cautiously walked into the room. She looked at Raine’s hand, still millimetres away from Nikolay. Hastily, both men stepped away from each other. Nikolay coughed weakly in a poor attempt to hide his embarrassment.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Raine muttered under his breath.
Nikolay didn’t respond, but Raine knew that he had been heard. Sometimes, it felt like they were still interconnected — still inhabiting the same mind, sharing their emotions without the need for communication.
“The Chosen One and his… consort,” the maid bowed deeply. “Your humble devotees are awaiting your arrival. Please follow me.”
“C- Consort?” Raine spluttered.
“I told you already, I’m not the Chosen One,” Nikolay grumbled, though it was more in obligation.
Ignoring both of their protests, the maid turned on her heel and strode out of the room. After making sure that the two were following her, she increased her pace to be surprisingly fast for her short stature. Raine, on the other hand, was struggling to keep up the pace, having to ungracefully bunch up the bottom of his long robes to stop himself from tripping over.
If the maid could tell that Raine was lagging behind, she didn’t care enough to slow down. Probably something about the ‘consort’ not being as important as the Chosen One.
Nikolay abruptly halted. “Stop.”
The command reverberated powerfully throughout the entire hallway, echoing off the cramped wooden walls and low ceiling. Instantly, the maid’s heeled boots ceased clacking against the tiled floors. She whipped her head around to face Nikolay with wide eyes. Even Raine, a couple of steps behind, had stilled too.
“Slow down,” Nikolay said in a softer tone. “Ra- Nikolay can’t keep up.”
“Or you could carry me, princess style?” Raine asked, batting his eyes innocently.
“I’d rather not have back problems,” Nikolay snorted. “You’re much taller than I am.”
Their bantering came to a close as they reached the banquet area. It looked as resplendent and grand as their expectations, if not surpassing them. Gleaming gold, polished jade, twinkling diamonds — the sheer opulence of this chamber alone could make a peasant faint.
At the centre, the townsfolk had already filled the several round tables. They no longer wore the plain, breathable clothing from earlier, but tried their best to match the prosperity shown in this banquet. Wives brought their flashy diamond rings, fur coats and designer clothing were on full display, dresses and suits in all sorts of ostentatious designs.
However, the round tables were far from the main staple piece of the festival. Raised on a slight platform, there was still one empty table with three seats. One, already taken by the priest who had greeted them first.
Predictably, the maids ushered Nikolay and Raine into these seats. They took the pair all the way to the chairs, then quickly dispersed to avoid staying the spotlight.
As Nikolay and Raine sat down — noting how they sank into the plush velvet cushioning — everybody else stood up from their chairs.
The priest acknowledged their arrival with a deep bow, and the rest of the room followed suit. All the townsfolk, no matter how gaudy or extravagant their clothing, bent down low to the carpeted floor. Lines of maids along the walls curtseyed, the edges of their frilled dresses sweeping the floor in practised tandem.
And so, the festivities began.