The Chosen One

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Wither held the door open for Night and Zale, although only Zale's body went through - he decided to throw his head through a window.
Wither had felt a ton better after a few minutes in the honey - it was almost like it magically healed him.
As Zale's body walked in, Wither shut the door, and walked over to his bed. He was tired, and wanted to sleep. As soon as he was lying down, Night came in, and joined him. He didn't have a problem with this, but he didn't think she would notice that quickly.
"Hey, Wither," Night whispered.
"Yeah?" Wither replied.
"You've heard the Legend of Yin and Yang, right?"
"You mean the Prophecy? I've heard it many times."
"Okay, because..."
"Because what?"
"Well, the 'Omen...'"
"What about them?"
"I think it might be you..."
Wither remembered the Prophecy by heart. There was no way it was him.
He thought about it for a moment, anyways.
Warrior of demise? He was a Corruption Elite, so yes. Purple and red armor? He was the only one to receive Ancient Shadow Armor, so yes. Deadly sword? The Night's Edge was a well-known and widely feared weapon, so yes...
Wither couldn't believe it - he perfectly fit the criteria. He had all three things that made up the Omen.
Night  gave him a one-armed hug, making him forget what he was thinking about.
Wither adjusted himself so he was facing her again.
Remembering what he was thinking about, he whispered "I can't believe it..."
Night simply nodded, then kissed him. Wither didn't know what was up with all the kissing lately, but it didn't really bother him - he just kissed her right back.
After a few seconds of kissing, Night finally fell asleep, allowing Wither to do the same.

Zale couldn't sleep - he was simply too excited to find out that his favorite non-family trainee turned out to be the Omen. He tried what he could to fall asleep, eventually knocking himself unconscious from excitement.

Wither woke up to Night lightly kissing his cheek. When he noticed, he blushed heavily. Night seemed to notice he was awake, so she moved on to his mouth.
Wither graciously kissed her right back, lightly rubbing her shoulder. After a few seconds, Night slowly ended the kiss, got up, and walked away, headed for the kitchen, where Zale was.
Wither sat up, trying to get his thoughts straight - as far as he knew, he quite possibly could be the Omen, and he had a pretty hefty task ahead of him. All he had was Ancient Shadow Armor and a Night's Edge - equipment that wasn't exactly ideal for an immortalized being like the Omen. Trying to figure it all out, Wither decided to take a walk - alone.

Wither was deep underground now. He had no clue of where he was or where he was going, but he knew one thing: he was alone.
How in the world could he be the Omen? His armor was pathetically weak, and his sword was not nearly strong enough to be called an "ungodly force of destruction."
As he walked, he saw numerous swords lying on the ground - many various ones, all intact. He even saw a Light's Bane at one point.
He walked further, eventually finding the Pedestal. He had been here many times before, and already knew what it was supposed to be - a shrine dedicated to the mythical Goddess Terra, who wielded her own sword (known as the Terra Blade) in combat.
There used to be three swords in it - all of them worn down, broken, and mossy.
The Night's Edge started reacting strangely to the Pedestal - it always seemed to do this when he approached it. However, his armor also seemed to react, too.
The hole where the third sword used to be started glowing yellow, and a yellow orb floated out of it.
The orb formed into a woman wearing a strange, shell-like armor, holding a green-bladed sword with a strange, brownish-orange hilt.
Wither recognized the woman immediately - it was Terra.
Not knowing what to do, Wither knelt down before her - this was a respectful thing to do when in the presence of a God or Goddess, as it showed you actually acknowledged their power.
"Wither," Terra said, her voice almost echoing on its own.
Wither had no idea of how she knew his name, but he wasn't about to question a Goddess.
"I've been watching you for some time now," she continued. "You and your friends have always intrigued me.
"It would appear that your friends have figured out that you're the Omen from the Prophecy. And yet you continue to deny it. I, as much of a Goddess as I am, can respect that. Most would be bragging by now, but you'd rather be an average mortal than an idolized hero."
Wither almost felt respected by the Goddess, but that's silly - why would a Goddess respect him?
"Therefore, you are worthy of the second sword."
One of the two remaining swords popped out of the Pedestal, and landed directly in front of Wither. Both his own sword and his armor started reacting even more to it.
"I wish you luck, Omen," Terra said, bowing.
"Thank you, Great Terra," Wither replied, almost scared of speaking.
Terra nodded, then was sucked back into the Pedestal, which stopped glowing.
Slowly, Wither picked up the worn-down sword. As he did, three small, yellow orbs flew out of the Pedestal, each one hitting a different piece of his armor. Wither felt a surge of power, as his armor transformed into the mythical True Ancient Shadow Armor.
The worn-down sword then compressed into another yellow orb, and flew into his sword, transforming that into the True Night's Edge.
Wither's job was clear now - return the first sword to the Pedestal, and restore balance between the Corruption and the Hallow.

As soon as he opened the door to the house, he smelled burning fish, implying that Zale was cooking again.
Night was asleep in the bed, as usual.
Zale walked out to greet Wither. As soon as he saw him, he froze.
A dark, purple energy swirled around Zale, enveloping him in a thick, black fog. Wither was unable to see through the fog, and had no idea as to what was going on.
When the fog disappeared, Zale was standing there - alive again.
They stared at each other for a second, before Wither ran up to him and hugged him, glad to have him back.

Night woke up, to see a being in glowing armor hugging her father, who was human again.
She quietly got up as Zale turned back into the kitchen, leaving the figure staring at the door. She held up her Night's Edge, and swung it downwards.
The figure managed to dodge the attack, turning to face her. As soon as she saw Wither's face in the helmet, she nearly screamed.
"What was that for?" he asked.
Night said nothing, instead running up to him, hugging him tightly.
Wither hugged her right back, then heard a familiar voice. It was a woman's voice, although it wasn't Night's:
"It seems the powers I've transferred into your armor have also affected your physical self, giving you the ability to sense incoming attacks. I'm sure they've also improved your decoy ability.
"I've left another part of the Prophecy on the ceiling for you. The powers in your armor allow you to make sense out of it now - the language was changed into one that only the Gods and the Omen can read."
A yellow glow appeared on the ceiling. Wither looked up at it, reading the words like they were nothing new.

A being of Light, one of Hallow,
to stop at nothing, to rid the Darkness.
The Omen, keeper of balance, bringer of doom,
shalt destroy this being - and all who follow.

Wither already knew who the "being of Light" was:
Spectra.

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