The Promised Of Elaria

The Ancient Scrolls

The temple felt crowded, even though everyone was sitting quietly. The women of Elaria had gathered, and there was a strange mix of excitement and nervousness in the air. Ethan stood at the back, trying to stay out of sight, but it was impossible to ignore the way they all looked at him.

At the front of the room, the Mother stood beside Mira, one of her most trusted advisors. Mira was holding a rolled-up scroll, her hands shaking slightly.

“These scrolls are sacred,” Mira announced, her voice clear and loud. “They tell us how the Promised One will bring new life to Elaria.”

Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He felt all eyes on him and knew they were expecting something huge. But he wasn’t sure what. What did they really want from him?

Mira unrolled the scroll slowly, the paper crackling in the quiet room. The women leaned in, eager to hear what was written inside. Ethan swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat.

“The scrolls speak of the union,” Mira began. “A bond between the Promised One and the women of this realm. This bond will ensure the future of Elaria.”

The room buzzed with soft whispers as the women glanced at Ethan, their eyes wide with expectation.

“What does it say about the union?” one woman asked.

Mira smiled as she read aloud. “It’s not just about the physical connection. It’s a union of body and spirit, blessed by the gods. The Promised One will choose, and through this, the land will be blessed.”

Ethan couldn’t help but frown. He was supposed to choose? Choose who? He felt a wave of confusion wash over him.

The Mother stepped forward, her eyes meeting Ethan’s from across the room. “This is your role, Ethan,” she said softly but firmly. “You were brought here by the gods to fulfill this purpose.”

Ethan cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t want to disappoint them, but this was all too much.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he finally said, his voice low. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

The room fell silent. The women looked at him, surprised by his hesitation. The Mother, however, remained calm, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes concern, maybe.

“The gods chose you,” the Mother said gently. “It is your destiny.”

“I get that,” Ethan replied, feeling the pressure build. “But no one asked me if I wanted this. I don’t even know what’s expected of me.”

The tension in the room grew thick. The women exchanged uneasy looks, unsure of what to think. The Mother kept her gaze steady on Ethan.

Mira stepped forward again, holding the scroll. “The union will be marked by a ceremony. The Promised One will choose a woman, and through this choice, the gods will bless us.”

Ethan’s chest tightened. Everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to say something, to agree. But he wasn’t ready.

“I need time to think about all this,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

The Mother nodded, though her face showed a hint of disappointment. “You have time, Ethan. But not forever.”

The women began to rise, their excitement dimmed by Ethan’s reluctance. As they left the room, Mira approached Ethan, offering him a kind smile.

“You don’t have to decide right away,” she said gently. “But remember, the women here believe in you. They trust you.”

Ethan nodded, though he wasn’t sure he believed that himself. “Yeah… I just need to figure things out.”

Mira gave him a small nod before leaving him alone in the temple. Ethan stared at the ancient scrolls, feeling the weight of his so-called destiny pressing down on him. The words echoed in his mind. Three days. In three days, he would have to choose, and everything would change.

That evening, Ethan sat by the fire in his tent, gazing at the flames as they danced and crackled. His mind raced with the words from earlier, the pressure of what was expected of him growing heavier. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see their faces—hopeful, expectant, and trusting.

"Why me?" Ethan whispered to himself, running his hands through his hair.

The flap of his tent rustled, and a familiar figure appeared. It was Lyra, one of the younger women he had met earlier. Her dark eyes glimmered in the low light of the fire, and she hesitated for a moment before stepping in.

"Ethan," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "May I speak with you?"

He nodded, gesturing for her to sit across from him. There was a moment of silence between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

"I know this must be overwhelming for you," Lyra began, her voice gentle. "But we... we truly believe you are the one to save us."

Ethan sighed. "I don't even know if I can live up to that. I never asked for any of this responsibility."

Lyra reached out, placing her hand on his. "None of us choose our fate. But we can choose how we face it. We’ve waited so long for you, Ethan. We’re willing to do whatever it takes."

He looked down at her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch, then back at her. "I just need more time. To understand all of this."

Lyra nodded, her expression understanding. "Take your time. But remember, we are here for you. Whatever you need."

As Lyra stood to leave, she turned back one last time, her eyes searching his. "Goodnight, Ethan. May the gods guide you in your decision."