The Creator

The Champion

The Creator: Chapter One 

The Champion

     I stood in line, biting my lip. The entire room was filled with nervous energy. Today, the one hundredth day of the one hundredth year, Eight cycle of the moon, day 10, year 1000, a new champion of the creator will be discovered. Ancient documents, designed by the creator himself, stated that one man in all of Mohana will be chosen by him to serve and protect the people, even if it meant sacrificing themselves. The document had a single set of fingerprints. Those prints are a design of the creator and are the only way to find the creators champion, for each champion was different.

     So on this day, my entire village, my entire world, has gathered in their halls, hoping that they were the creators champion, hoping that their fingerprints were shared by the ten previous champion, and all the champions in the future.

     I on the other hand, was dreading it.

     Everyone in the world would look up to me, there would be no peace, no relaxing. People were always trying to kill the champion as well. There were cults, organizations wanting to take destiny into their own hands, saying 'screw' to the creator. In truth, I believed that those people feared the creator and the power he had. I thought it interesting that the creator would put forth those people, but he had a mind of his own. One that I couldn't possibly fathom.

     My thoughts had consumed me and before I knew it, I was near the front of the line. Before me was my younger sister, Izabel Powell, and it was her turn to go into one of the four rooms that held the information that would uncover the champion. Izabel gave my hand a squeeze as one of the doors opened. The man who walked out shook his head before beckoning to Izabel to enter. With a quick goodbye, she let go of my hand and ran into the room.

     The next door to open would be the room to where I would enter, the room where I would learn if I was destined to be a champion. And so I waited, hoping that either no door would open, or in the case that one did, that the champion was found.

     The wait was almost too much. All of the contagious energy filled with nerves and desperation bombarded me. Butterflies in my stomach were growing, jumbling my insides and making me sick. My back began to ache from it all and I found myself wishing that a door would open.

     Time slowed to a snail's crawl until finally the furthest door creaked open. Inch by inch the door opened to reveal a woman, an old friend who I've known since we were both young. Veronica Bootsma, with her raven hair, flawless olive skin and big brown eyes emerged from the room, her head hung and shaking.

     The butterflies increased in size, my hands shook as I moved. I was terrified. What if I am the champion? What will happen? Will it change who I am? A ton of questions raided my thoughts as I pushed through the door.

     The room I entered was small. Four white washed walls stood two meters apart in a square, only the wall behind me broken by a door. it was odd though, for the room was empty. Seconds passed, turning to minutes. What was going on?

     Finally something happened. From where the wall and floor connected of the wall before me, a light flickered. Within the next second a wavering hologram stood before me.

     It was a woman, standing tall at five feet eleven inches with flowing brown hair. She said hello and introduced herself as Myranda Rosabelle. Next, she smiled and apologized for the wait, blaming it on technical issues.

     Then, with a clap of her hands and a twinkle in her sapphire eyes, she instructed me to hold up my hands, palms towards her. Myranda nodded her approval then pointed to the wall to my left, where two handprints glowed green. I compressed my lips and put my own hands on the glowing ones. Seconds passed while my hands were pressed against the wall until finally, a click echoed through the room and the handprints disappeared. I stepped away from the wall.

     Myranda was smiling, beaming actually. She didn't say anything and her silence began to make me nervous. I cleared my throat. What did that smile mean?

     Ah, finally the silence was broken. She asked if I would wait for a moment while she went to go get something. Myranda was gone for maybe a second before reappearing and telling me to have a seat. Huh? I thought as the hologram image disappeared again. Craning my neck to look behind me, I discovered that there was, in fact, a chair. How did it get here? Shrugging, I sat and began my wait for Myranda to get back, my foot tapping from a shaking leg.

     Fortunately, I hadn't long to wait. Within the next couple minutes, Myranda was again flickering before me as a hologram.

     "Valerie," she addressed me, "I need you to take this and keep it on you at all times."

     In her outstretched hand was a belt and sheath, the carved hilt of a knife protruding. My heart started to beat against my rib cage. What was all this about?

     Bringing myself out of my thoughts, I reached to grab the belt, expecting my hand to pass through like the holographic image it was.

     However, that is not what happened. My fingers wrapped themselves the soft leather and my eyes widened with surprise.

     Once again, Myranda smiled, "congratulations and good luck, Valerie Powell, champion."