The Promised Of Elaria

The Weight of Expectations

The dawn had barely broken when Ethan stirred from a restless sleep. His body still ached from the exertions of the previous day, but the realm of Elaria did not rest. His role  the destiny chosen for him by the gods  allowed no reprieve. Every morning brought with it new duties, new expectations, and the relentless demands of a realm whose future depended on him.

Ethan sat up slowly, wincing as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His muscles throbbed, a dull reminder of the many women he had been with. The ritual had been draining, both physically and emotionally. Despite the lust that had driven him, it had taken every ounce of his strength to perform his duties, and now, exhaustion clung to him like a shadow.

He rubbed his face, trying to shake the lingering weariness, when he heard the door creak open. Looking up, he saw the mother enter the room. Her presence, as always, was commanding yet gentle, her eyes filled with a knowing that made Ethan feel as though she could see into his very soul.

"You're awake," she said softly, stepping further into the room. "Good. I thought you might need some time to recover after yesterday."

Ethan offered her a tired smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "I’ll be fine," he replied, his voice hoarse. "Just need a little rest."

The mother watched him carefully, her expression unreadable. She moved closer, her gown trailing behind her as she sat beside him. "You’ve done well, Ethan," she said, her voice filled with an odd mix of praise and something else  something almost maternal. "The women of Elaria are grateful, and the realm is one step closer to its future."

Ethan nodded, though the words brought little comfort. "I know it’s my duty," he muttered, staring at the floor. "But it’s… overwhelming. Some days I feel like I’m nothing more than a tool, something to be used for the sake of prophecy."

The mother’s gaze softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are far more than that, Ethan. You are the Chosen One  the Promised One. The gods have entrusted you with the future of our realm, yes, but you are also a man, and your feelings matter."

Her words were soothing, but Ethan could still feel the weight of expectation pressing down on him. "It doesn’t always feel that way," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The mother sighed softly, her hand still resting on his shoulder. "I understand," she said gently. "But remember, this is not just about the women or the realm. This is about you, too. Your role is sacred, but so is your well-being. If you’re struggling, you must speak with me, or with Amara. You are not alone in this."

Ethan looked up, meeting her gaze. For the first time, he saw something in her eyes  concern, perhaps even affection. It was as though she saw him not just as the Promised One, but as a man burdened by an impossible task.

"I’ll try," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

The mother smiled, though the sadness lingered in her eyes. "Good. You’ve already given so much, Ethan. But know this: you will not be asked to give more than you can handle."

Ethan nodded, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. Every day seemed to demand more from him, more than he thought he could give. But there was no turning back now. The prophecy had chosen him, and he had no choice but to fulfill it.

As the mother stood to leave, she paused at the door, her hand resting on the frame. "Amara will be by later to check on you," she said softly. "Rest, Ethan. You’ve earned it."

With that, she left the room, the door closing quietly behind her. Ethan sat in silence for a long moment, her words echoing in his mind. He had been chosen for this  there was no doubt about that. But for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder if he was truly strong enough to carry the weight of the realm on his shoulders.

Just as he was about to lie back down, a soft knock came at the door. Ethan looked up, expecting to see Amara, but instead, it was one of the younger women from the realm, her face flushed with nervousness.

"Ethan," she said quietly, stepping into the room. "The women are ready. They’re waiting for you."

His stomach twisted. More women. More demands. The cycle never seemed to end. But he knew his duty, and despite his exhaustion, he stood, pulling on his tunic with shaking hands.

"I’ll be there," he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside him.

The woman bowed her head and left, leaving Ethan alone once more. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. This was his destiny, after all. There was no escape from it. And yet, deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that each day brought him closer to breaking.

He left the room and made his way to the chamber where the women were waiting. The mother’s words still echoed in his mind You will not be asked to give more than you can handle.* But as he stepped into the room and saw the line of women waiting for him, their eyes filled with reverence and expectation, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was really true.