Sarah found herself sitting on a familiar stone floor. Only this time, she was sitting in front of a stone altar. On the altar itself was a bronze statue of a ferocious looking four armed man riding a huge warhorse. He held a long, curved sword in each hand and on his head was a crown of blue flames.
“Go with my people and give yourself over to me,” his disembodied voice ordered.
Before she could reply, the flames from the crown engulfed the statue and her, enveloping her in a nostalgic warmth.
Sarah’s eyes fluttered open as a gentle breeze blew through the open window, carrying with it the smells of roasting meats and the hubbub of a dozen conversations from the street below. Sarah stifled a yawn as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She had fallen asleep on John’s shoulder as they sat on a deeply cushioned leather sofa in a well-appointed office. John was staring stoically at the far side of the room where Grimald and a rotund halfling were seated on either side of a large table.
“It’s like I told you, Roldo, we had no idea what books that library contained,” Grimald said patiently, “orcs were rushing us.”
Sarah stirred and sat upright, while John stared stoically straight ahead.
“Surely you had time to glance at a cover or two,” the bespectacled halfling objected. His heavy jowls shook as he spoke.
“Listen,” Grimald said patiently, “we were surprised enough to find that library under the church. Did you know about it?”
Roldo mopped his brow with a silk handkerchief and shook his head. “No, I will take that up with my associates. They owe us an explanation.”
“How did you know something was wrong with the village?” Sarah ventured, detecting an opening in the conversation.
Roldo set his small, rodent-like eyes on Sarah and let his gaze linger uncomfortably before replying, “we have an interest in that town and knew almost at once when something was amiss.”
“Was the library related to that interest?” Sarah pressed.
Roldo scowled, and Sarah feared she had pushed her luck too far. “As I said, I knew nothing about the library. Our associates told me to send a team because we happened to be the closest.”
He paused before continuing, “as for you, young lady, you need to learn the meaning of restraint. I fear we may have lost something irreplaceable there, if, the library was as Grimald described.”
“It was,” Grimald declared as he stroked his freshly brushed beard.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Sarah said, bowing her head and feeling very uncomfortable under their employer’s gaze.
“She saved our necks,” John objected, “if it weren’t for her, the orcs would have chopped the lot of us up.”
Roldo’s eyes locked onto John’s and the halfling stared at him balefully.
“Sorry,” John said quickly. For some reason, Roldo was short-tempered when it came to him and all who dealt with the influential halfling knew better than to get on his bad side.
“It’s as the boy said,” Grimald offered, “what happened was unavoidable. Perhaps if we had more information going in…”
“I told you everything I knew,” Roldo said defensively, “and it’s certainly more than I bargained for when I sent you lot in. I’ll get to the bottom of this, believe you me.”
“Say, did either of you know the significance of my blue fire?” Sarah ventured. It had been gnawing at her since she met the villagers. The town she and John had grown up in worshipped Treto exclusively, which was not unusual in the Four Kingdoms, and she knew only the basics about the other gods and their worshippers.
“We might have,” Roldo allowed, “however, you should know we put little stock in religious fairy tales.”
“Back to the matter at hand,” the halfling continued, “I get the feeling we’ll have related work coming up soon, so I’ll have to ask that you all stay in town and keep yourselves available.”
“I’ll not work with her again,” Stanley snarled from a corner of the room.
Sarah jumped. The lanky man had been so still and silent as he smouldered in the shadows that she had forgotten that he was even there.
“I understand that you don’t see eye to eye with Grimald on how things played out,” Roldo began.
“I don’t care what he says,” Stanley snapped, “the girl is a menace. If I had my way, she’d be muted and live out the rest of her days in a sanatorium.”
“She’s a valuable asset,” Roldo said. His voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge to it, “and she is under my protection.”
Roldo bored his eyes into the lanky man’s, “do you understand?”
Stanley stared back defiantly at his employer long enough to make his point. “Then I quit.”
Before anyone could say another word, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
“I’d better keep an eye on him,” Roldo muttered.
“I don’t think he’ll hurt the girl,” Grimald offered as his eyes flicked to Sarah, “however if you see him walking down the street, go the other way, eh?”
Sarah nodded, feeling guilty at what she had done.
“May we leave?” John asked politely.
Roldo looked at the pair from over his glasses for a moment before nodding. “Stay in town and stay out of trouble, eh?”
As Roldo laughed to himself at his turn of phrase, John cleared his throat. “And our pay?” the young man ventured.
The rotund halfling scowled. “Unfortunately the person who contracted us doesn’t feel the job was done.”
“We investigated the village like we were told!” John protested, “it’s not our fault you didn’t tell us there would be a gang of orcs hiding out there!”
Roldo held up a hand. “I agree. I am negotiating this point with the other party. I intend to get paid for the work done.”
“Work that we did,” John pointed out.
“You forget yourself, boy,” Roldo’s words were a lash, and his gaze turned hard.
“Sorry,” John muttered, shrinking even though the halfling was less than half his size.
“As I said,” Roldo continued, affable again, “negotiations are ongoing. You will get paid after I get paid.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Roldo took his spectacles off and levelled his gaze on John. “Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” John mumbled.
“Good, run along now.”
“Yes sir,” Sarah repeated mockingly and laughed as she and John descended the stairs from Roldo’s office and into a busy warehouse.
“Shut up,” John snapped, red-faced, “you know what he’s like when he gets angry.”
“Then why speak out of turn?” Sarah asked, grinning broadly. She knew that John was the prideful sort, and it amused her to no end to see it get him into trouble.
“Just you wait,” John said, as they walked through the warehouse that was crammed with sacks of grain, “one day, I’ll be the most powerful man in the Four Kingdoms and then he’ll have to grovel to me.”
“I can’t wait,” Sarah beamed.
John came to a halt as a huddle of workers barred the exit. They were looking at a commotion just outside the door.
“What’s going on?” John demanded.
“They’re waiting for their chosen one to emerge or something,” one of the workers replied, gesturing to the large crowd outside, “they were only a handful earlier but now look at them. We can’t get any work done.”
John and Sarah exchanged uneasy looks.
“Come on, let’s take the back exit,” John said.
“That’ll do you no good,” the worker remarked, “they’ve got the building surrounded and won’t leave until they see their chosen one.”
“There’s no chosen one here!” one of the other workers shouted irritably, “get a move on, we’ve got work to do!”
A handful of workers stepped forward aggressively and attempted to manhandle the closest people out of the way. A scuffle broke out and more workers moved to help their colleagues. Then, a punch was thrown, and the scuffle threatened to turn into a riot.
Suddenly, someone in the crowd cried, “there she is! Agni’s Chosen has revealed herself at last!”
“Those Varuna worshippers won’t have anything to crow about now!” another shouted jubilantly.
The crowd fixed their gaze on Sarah and John placed himself between them. “Run out the back,” he urged.
To Sarah’s surprise, the crowd fell to their knees and prostrated themselves before her. The warehouse workers could only stare at her with their mouths agape.
A man and two dwarves wearing crimson robes stepped out of the crowd. They sported shaved heads and their muscles bulged from under their robes. They approached Sarah and knelt before her.
“We, the elders from the Temple of Agni humbly request that you return with us to our temple,” one of them said deferentially.
Sarah’s tongue went dry as she felt the multitude of eyes on her. The last thing she wanted was to go with them to the temple. If she did that, she feared they might never let her leave.
“She will do no such thing!” John roared as he placed a hand on his dagger.
“Who are you to keep Agni’s faithful from His Chosen?” the crowd demanded.
A few were standing now and bunching their fists, as they hurled threats at John. In the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Stanley observing the proceedings quietly from the bowels of the warehouse and she knew that backing out through there was out of the question.
“You can’t demand that a poor girl follow this mob to your lair,” came Grimlad’s voice from the top of the stairs, “think of her. She must be scared out of her wits.”
“We wouldn’t dream of harming her!” one of the men in crimson robes cried, going white, “that would be blasphemy of the highest order!”
“Put yourselves in her shoes,” Grimald continued as he made his way down the stairs, “perhaps you could discuss things with her at a neutral venue… perhaps the town square?”
The men in crimson robes whispered to one another briefly and one of them said, “yes, that sounds acceptable.”
He looked up expectantly at Sarah, who nodded. “Please, get up, I’m not used to talking down to people like this.”
The three men bowed their heads low before getting to their feet.
“I am Brother James,” one of them said. His skin was tan, and he was the shortest of the three, but the broadest at the shoulder, “I am the head priest of the temple of Agni here in Woodhop.”
“Sarah,” she replied, offering her hand.
James smiled but kept his hands to himself. Instead, he gestured to his two companions. “These are Brothers Marcus and Samuel.”
The other two men nodded as they were introduced. James gestured towards the road. “Shall we?”
Sarah nodded and looked over her shoulder. She was surprised to see that Grimald had not moved from the foot of the stairs. “It doesn’t look like he’s joining us,” she muttered.
“Are we sure we should follow them?” John whispered, “just say the word and I’ll create an opening for you to escape.”
Sarah shook her head. “It can’t hurt to hear them out.”
John looked at the crowd and muttered, “oh yes it bloody well can. There must be at least eighty of them.”
Sarah stepped forward out of the warehouse, and the crowd shifted to form a protective circle around Sarah, John, and the priests.
“There, we’re trapped now,” John muttered.
“Alright boys, back to work,” they heard one of the workers cry as they walked down the street.
The strange procession drew curious stares as it made its way down the busy streets. People made way for them as they pointed and laughed, and Sarah was glad that Roldo’s warehouse was but a stone’s throw from the town square.
As they approached the square, Sarah spotted a halfling standing on top of a barrel, shouting at the top of his lungs, “forsake the deaf gods who leave our prayers unanswered! Ratri will soon ascend as the sixth member of the Pantheon, and She will richly reward those who helped put Her there!”
The halfling had positioned himself on a busy thoroughfare but was mostly ignored. The few responses he received were mostly jeers and dirty looks.
As they approached the halfling, their escorts readjusted themselves so that the bulk of them were between him and Sarah.
“Can never be too careful with these heathens,” Brother Marcus remarked. He was stocky, even for a dwarf and sported a fiery red beard. Sarah was sure he had a weapon or two hidden under his robes, “I’ve heard they believe they can help their false god join the pantheon by killing the others’ Chosen.”
“That is why it is important we get you to our temple as soon as possible,” James added, “to keep you safe. There are too many maniacs out there who would cause harm to one of the Five’s Chosen.”
“Spread your blasphemy elsewhere!” one of Sarah’s escorts shouted as they walked past.
“Ooh, Agni’s Chosen,” the halfling said malevolently, “Ratri will come for you soon.”
Some of the escorts charged at him, but he leapt off the barrel nimbly and disappeared into the crowd.
“I thought Ratri was mostly worshipped by the creatures of the night,” Sarah said, deeply perturbed by the halfling’s open hostility towards her.
James shook his head gravely, “I don’t know how or why, but it seems that She is gaining a following amongst the civilized races. Particularly amongst the orcs after their defeat at Lanfer, though I hesitate to count those savages among the civilized people.”
“It is a sign of the depravity of the times,” Brother Samuel, the only human priest, said, “that is why the Chosen are more important than ever. They can be a symbol for the worshippers of the True Gods to rally behind.”
Sarah felt queasy. It seemed so far-fetched that they were referring to her when they spoke of people becoming an icon for the Gods. She felt as though any moment now, it would be revealed that this was all an elaborate prank planned by Roldo.
“What is a Chosen anyway?” John demanded, and Sarah groaned inwardly at his ignorance.
“It is as the name implies,” Brother Marcus said wide-eyed, as though shocked by the young man’s ignorance, “those who are chosen by a God of the Pantheon to act as their avatar on this plane should the need arise.”
“What need could there be for that?” John asked incredulously.
“There is always a need for the Gods to act in the mortal realm,” Brother James said.
“With your emergence as Agni’s Chosen, this is the only time in recorded history where all five of the Pantheon’s Chosen have been identified,” Brother Samuel said excitedly, “Treto’s Chosen has been with their church for decades, and Varuna’s joined their temple in Korvana a few years ago.”
“At any rate,” Brother Samuel continued, “these are exciting times.”
“And what makes you so sure I’m Agni’s Chosen?” Sarah asked.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Brother James said.
He came to a halt at the town square. It was a market day, and the stone plaza was lined by rows of stalls that sold everything from produce to handicrafts.
“There’s a quiet corner over there,” he continued, pointing to the gates of a large mansion.
“That’s Lord Manion’s estate,” John breathed incredulously, “you can’t be suggesting we all camp over there.”
“Our followers will keep a respectful distance,” Brother James smiled, “their only concern is the Chosen’s safety. Besides, Lord Manion will be delighted if Agni’s Chosen ended up being uncovered in his town. He’d make a pretty penny from all the pilgrimages.”
“I must say, it is unusual for a human to be Chosen by Agni,” Brother Marcus remarked as they made their way over to the mansion’s gates.
“That’s probably because we humans are so short-lived… and fickle when it comes to choosing which god to worship,” Brother James smiled, “though it is a time of change. I believe Varuna’s Chosen is a halfling.”
“The first non-elf Chosen of Varuna in their memory,” Brother Samuel said, wide-eyed, “we are indeed living in times of change.”
“Elves are immortal,” Sarah pointed out, “shouldn’t the first Chosen elf still be alive?”
A shadow crossed the priests’ faces. At length, Brother Samuel said, “unfortunately, through cruel twists of fate, the Chosen tend to die early deaths.”
“Which is why it is so important that we can get you to our temple quickly,” Brother Marcus said, “so that we can protect you.”
“Right,” Brother James smiled, once they arrived at the gates, “here we are.”
Sarah looked around and was surprised to see that she, John and the three priests were alone. Their escorts had spread themselves out and were standing out of earshot. The guards at the mansion’s gates looked at them briefly but looked largely uninterested in their presence.
“Now then,” Brother James continued, “shall we begin?”