Unchosen Ones

Chapter 1.1 Ossaru

"They're draggin' the Divine Champions out yet a-fucking-gain." Kirch snorts as they plunk down at my table, leaning forward to encroach upon my space. "New blockbuster series. It's supposed t' revolutionize the way we think of the Saga of Ages." The hobgoblin wrinkles their prominent nose and waves away an imaginary stench. "Ya gonna spring for HALO TV to watch that shit?"

Dragging my gaze away from my crystal to glare at Kirch, I click my tongue. "And why would I do that?" Shaking obsidian bangs back in front of silver eyes, I turn my body away to look out the window of the dingy tea shop—an obvious dismissal. Between teaching at the swordsman's dojo and my shift as a bartender, I didn't get much time for myself. Today, through a series of mishaps involving one of my more half-witted students, a rubber chicken, and a fire alarm, my class had ended early. I'd been gifted with just enough time for a moment of rest and a cup of tea in peace, Gods know I need it, but those luxuries don't seem to be in the cards. The only barista behind the counter has already had to remake my order twice—the incompetent fool—which means that I'm probably going to have to take my caffeine to go. Even now, I can see the silly, doe-eyed halfling struggling to carry a new pan of jelly away from the fridge, since she'd wasted the last pan on her previous failures. Also, despite my efforts to avoid Kirch after the incident, my former coworker still managed to track me down, taking peace firmly off the table.

The hobgoblin stands up so they can lean into my field of vision. "Didn't cha hear the news, Ossaru? That sister of yers has a part in the show. Far as I remember, y'all don't have anything against each other." Their lips peel back in a smirk, displaying a bear trap mouth of yellow, serrated fangs. "Aren't cha gonna support her in her big break?" I turn back around with a snarl that reveals my own sharpened incisors—not a new sight for Kirch. This malignant boil had more audacity than a shine-head demon, I already knew this, but somehow I could still be surprised.

"After what you did last month, you have no right to speak about Qedoro." Forcing the wrath from my face, I take a deep breath before laying back against the rickety wooden chair in feigned indifference. Whatever Kirch was after, they were obviously making an effort to rile me. Under no circumstances could I give the scoundrel the ammunition they wished for. "Well, not until she begins speaking to me again, anyways. To what, exactly, do I owe the displeasure of your presence? And how did you find me?"

"Oh, Ossie," Kirch chuckles, "Yer so fun to tease. Once yer feathers get ruffled, out comes the fancy talk. Anyone else, I'd accuse 'em of puttin' on airs, but it's kinda cute on ya! On account of that family of yers." They propped their hands behind their head in an ease that was probably far more genuine than mine. "I'm just spreadin' the word about a talented young bone elf actress; ya know how important it is when us 'lower races'," derision curls in the hobgoblin's voice, "Can get any kind a' representation in a big series like this. Though," Kirch's yellow eyes drift over to a poster in the shop's window displaying the main cast of the exact drama we were addressing, "I'm not sure I need much help with this one." As if I could escape the damned show when my boss at the dojo was a rabid fan boy for the main actor, Sol'as. My sister's face doesn't haunt my movement the way that bastard's does, but I still see her. A bone elf actress getting to play the bone elf enchantress that opposed the heroes until she inevitably betrays the demon king. Revolutionary drama, my foot.

"Well, consider me informed." I raise my crystal in front of my face and drag my thumb across the flat viewing surface, scrolling through old messages while appearing to look too busy for any further comment. "Shows about the Saga of Ages are quite common these days, ever since the Naskarian church had their so-called reveal." Apparently, some drooling lunatic had claimed to be the reincarnation of Saintess Theresa and, in a mindboggling twist, had actually managed to get high church officials to believe them. "This show will inevitably fall into place amongst the other tripe. If that is all, Kirch, then please be on your way."