Chosen: A Warriors Trial Fit for a Thief

Chapter 3

That was when my real life begun – eyes squinted shut, paralyzed in place and trembling in fear. I was on Death’s door, waiting for the reaper’s scythe to tear through me, or in this case, it was the axe instead of the scythe. But the searing sensation of death never envelops me. When I finally build up the nerve to open my eyes and investigate, I am greeted by the glint of the axe, centimeters away from my eyes.

I yelp back, putting as much distance as I can between myself and the poorly sharpened steel. Scampering back behind the corner, I push myself up against the wall, concentrating on my breathing. I know the shock of it is getting to me, and I have to calm myself down. I have the urge to run, I want to, but instinct tells me to stay and help the girl.

“Okay”, I say to myself. “The axe stopped. Why did it stop?” I ask myself.  I don’t hear them laughing. Maybe they want me to run away. I swallow whatever pride I have left and turn the corner back to the axe I left behind.

And I’m greeted with an almost blinding light. The sudden light forces me to squint and stumble forward, one hand shading my eyes while the other is out in front of me grasping for anything to steady myself. I move forward a few steps and my hand grasps hot silk, soft as a cloud. My brow furrows in confusion, but I don’t let go of it. I need to go towards the light, and towards the warm silk. There is some force that drags me to it. I’m moving my hand up the silk, my wrist guided by the warmth. I soon grasp onto something and when I pull my eyes open, I see that it is a woman’s hip and her slender fingers have wrapped around my wrist gently.

The light has dimmed to a bearable brightness for my eyes now. I gaze up and see a pale woman’s body, covered by a white silk topped with gold metal to cover her breasts. Her shoulders, arms, and back are bare. Looking up into her face, all I see is an unnatural beauty, beyond any that I have ever seen and flowing hair, almost as golden as the gold around her breasts. Her eyes are a radiant yellow with speckles of gold. I know that my jaw has dropped but I can’t do anything but stare, transfixed by her beauty.

She smiles at me and lifts my chin with her free hand but still keeps hold of my right wrist.

“Dante”, her voice is like a whisper in my ear. “It is not your time to die, young one. It seems fate has changed for you. The path has changed, but the destination is still the same. You are needed elsewhere in a different time. But for now you must be gifted earlier than we had planned. You cannot die before your time has come – you will be a valuable asset to the Chosen.”

I gape at her again, not being able to comprehend what she is saying. So many questions run through my mind; where had she come from? What is she saying? Why is she saying these things? The Chosen – what about them did she say?

The woman fades away, and so does the blinding light but as her hand fades away from my wrist, another hand takes my wrist. It is just as slender as the first except it is cold when it touches and as I look up from the hand, I see another woman, similar to the first. Everything about her is similar to the first woman although she is different in colour. Her dress is a deep blue silk, and there is black metal covering her breasts instead of the gold covering the other woman’s. Her hair is a jet black – the same colour as the metal topping her dress and her eyes are that deep shade of blue, speckled with gold.

I realize then that the shadows have grown deep and that it is darker even before the time the first woman appeared. Something seems off but I can’t work out what it is that discomforts me so much.

The lady in front of me holds my wrist in her iron grip. My arm begins to shiver with the cold now, but I don’t mind. It is as if my body is welcoming the cold. With her free hand, she puts a finger on my chest, right above my heart. I shiver from the touch but don’t pull away. She traces her finger across my chest to my right shoulder, the coldness following, spreading with her finger. Her finger then traces to my elbow, putting every nerve on edge as it passes.