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Old 05-07-2006, 08:47 PM   #1
Tysyacha
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Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Kirkwall/The Free Marches
Posts: 3,181
Current Game: Dragon Age II
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My Fantasy Fiction (WIP)

Dear Everyone,

If you read this, please post your responses and ideas! No title yet.

UNTITLED FANTASY WORK IN PROGRESS

How does someone become the “Chosen One”?

I don’t know, but there was one thing that I did know:
I, the lucky girl, wasn’t it!

The Chosen One had already been made known to us,
and as luck (or fate) would have it, she lived in our own
hometown! Our humble village had unwittingly raised a
hero. Her name was Lucia Goldenblade, and she was a
knight who could heal people.

Before you ask how I knew Lucia was the Chosen One
instead of me, I’ll tell you. There were four prophecies
written long ago, about what the Chosen One would do:

“The Chosen One will be mighty in battle.”

I wasn’t, but Lucia was, very much!

“The Chosen One will use two swords blazing with glory.”

I was only right-handed.

“The Chosen One will have the purest heart of anyone known.”

Not me!

Last but not least: “The Chosen One will save our land from
an unspeakable evil.”

Lucia hadn’t exactly done that yet, but she was getting
ready to. How did she know that she was the Chosen One?
we all wondered. Did Lucia suddenly decide that she was “it”
after years of sparring with her classmates in the Hall of Knights?

No! Our town elders were the first ones to notice Lucia could
heal people while none of her comrades could.

“The sign of a truly pure heart,” they said. “This means Lucia
is the Chosen One!”

I didn’t know for sure, but our elders’ guess was as good as any.
Lucia had always been very kind to the people in our town. Even
when some of them tried to give her rewards for helping them,
Lucia turned the rewards down. She said that helping her fellow
human beings was enough. I know that sounds preachy, but
Lucia Goldenblade was sincere. She once told me I’d do great
things, even though my combat skills were as sloppy as a pile
of dragon dung! She believed in me, and made me believe in myself.

My name is Tysyacha, after the number “1,000” in our language.
You can call me Tysy for short, or Syscha. My mother was a
poor farm girl, and she said I was the one-thousandth good
thing that had ever happened to her! That’s how I got my name.
When I was born, I was small and weak. That’s still true right now,
or halfway true. I may be weak and stumble over rocks and tree
roots, but I’m not so small anymore!

Speaking of things that aren’t small, I wanted to go on a long,
hard journey.

I wouldn’t go unless Lucia picked me, though. The trip was
only for three people.

Everyone in our town gathered in a huge line to tell Lucia
why they were worthy.
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