A Chapter of Councils and Love Triangles
The gathered councilors consisted of Wood Elves, wizards, and a dwarf or two. Everyone muttered amongst themselves about Em’s fate and the shitty prophecy bound to her. They were seated in long rows along the walls of a long chamber, frowning as they stroked beards or pointed ears.
As Em suspected, Faylorn and the Wood Elf King threw names and dates at each other in their bickering over Novella’s politics or history.
The afternoon had dragged with informational dumps that she didn’t care to pay attention to.
It didn’t help that most of it was particulars she’d already been indoctrinated in back at home.
So instead, she observed sunrays shimmering through nearby silvery waterfalls or drifted in and out of a doze.
Despite the feathery bed she sank into late last night, she’d barely slept a wink. Gair’s vibrant gaze still occupied her thoughts. How broad his shoulders were. The brightness of his familiar smirk.
Shit, stop gooning. Em knuckled her eyes to clear the image away. Her stomach sank at the deep, twisted thought. If she wanted to stay original, she could never be close to Gair again. No more study sessions or late-night walks through the mushroom forests.
He’d been turned by the cursed plot.
“Your Highness,” Faylorn argued continually with the Elf King in the center of the assembly. “The Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower must have green eyes. This is the traditional trait of all Chosen Ones.”
“As you have mentioned,” the king said. “But I will say it again, Faylorn: is she worth the threat of Brolzross, the Nocturnal awakening? The dragon will no doubt bring his wrath upon my people when he wakes up. And what if Kriqir the Living hears of it? His orc and goblin soldiers are strong. They threaten our world more than the dragon. The moment he realizes the Chosen One destined to challenge him is a mere mortal teenage girl, he will unleash his armies. And if Kriqir the Living gets a hold of the relic, all of Novella will be doomed.”
“You cannot hide in your trees forever!” Faylorn addressed the whole council, practically strangling his stave. “We must stop Kriqir from attacking Novella before it’s too late.”
“And if we do follow your Chosen One?” a dwarf asked. “What then?”
“Our world is saved,” a new voice spoke up. “Our people are free from Kriqir’s slavery, and a ruler is crowned to rule over the Uncursed Tower.”
A figure draped in black stepped from the shadow. A large, white wolf trailed behind him, growling to itself.
Em’s breath hitched. She almost slipped off the edge of her stool.
The stranger’s dark, silvery armor, rogue leathers, and fur collar were distinctive.
He faced the Wood Elf King, his fingers hooked through his weapon belt, which bore many throwing stars and daggers.
He couldn’t have been much older than her.
Although his ears were pointed like an Elf, his tanned complexion was human.
When the young guy glanced her way, her stomach fluttered. His piercing violet icy eyes bore into her. His face was complete with the sharpest jawline and cheekbones she’d ever seen.
“Ah.” Faylorn smiled. “Prince Roden Trislee.”
That’s the guy who’s been spying on me? Em squirmed. Of course, he had to be hot.
She gawked, then the initial veil of infatuation peeled away. Reality set in.
Shit. Em bit her lip. Another love interest.
“Hello, Faylorn.” Roden patted the wolf beside him. “I’m glad you’ve returned.” His violet eyes wandered over toward Em again and flickered with the slightest interest. “And hello, Em. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Hell no. Em jumped from her chair, panic begging her to escape the council hall. I’m not doing this baddie-daddy rogue Elf and best friend love triangle. This is too much.
“Roden Trislee,” the king said, unfazed by Em’s freak out. “You’re a half-elf—your mother was my own daughter. According to our people’s views, the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower and prophecy belonged to the Wood Elves, and you are our sole heir.”
Em froze, forgetting her escape. Wait what?
Surprise.
A second Chosen One? She dropped back into her stool and turned the concept over a few times in her mind. Even still, it could amount to another trope; Roden would act as the typical loner who deserved the world but turned it down for her.
A cliché rival to a lover.
Disgust boiled in her veins. Em knotted her fingers over her crossed legs.
She wouldn’t stand for anyone’s attempts for her heart during her debut, and she certainly couldn’t be associated with these losers long-term.
If either Roden or Gair tried to flirt, she’d do anything in her power to get away.
“With all due respect, sire.” Roden bowed to the king, his wolf mimicking him. “I believe in the prophecy as much as Faylorn. Because of this, Em may be our singular chance at slaying Brolzross.”
The dwarves muttered in agreement.
What can I do that you can’t—have green eyes? Em scoffed to herself. This plot made no sense.
“What shall be done to determine who’s the Chosen One?” the Wood Elf King asked the gathered world leaders. “How should we decide who the prophecy belongs to?”
Faylorn glanced between Roden and Em. “Start an Heir Trials, your Highness.”
“WHAT?” Em was back on her feet.
“Compete in a duel against Roden, lass,” Faylorn said. “Then, the winner of the Heir Trials will be recognized as the true prophesied Chosen One.”
“No!” Em stomped her foot. “I refuse! Let Roden be the heir. I won’t participate in some stereotypical trial to prove I’m the Chosen One.”
Competing for the crown had to be the most fucking cliché thing ever. Her hopes of a career as a Main Character were thinning away. At best, she’d maybe become a permanent Side Character when this was over.
Roden narrowed his vibrant eyes at her, calculating.
“It’s custom in Novella to prove your worth when there is a challenger.” The Wood Elf King sniffed at her outburst. “Do not think your mere eye color exempts you from our traditions.”
“Only in stupid stories,” Em snapped.
A chorus of “ooooo” circled the council hall.
“Your Highness, Em’s tired.” Faylorn laid a hand on her shoulder and dug his fingernails into her skin to tell her to shut up. “I’m sure she’ll be ready by the morning to compete.”
“Like hell I will.”
“Then it’s final!” The king clapped his hands to keep the council silent, and Em just about ripped her ears off at the noise.
“Roden Trislee, half-elf of Glorious Musclewood Covert, shall compete against Em Smith, the acclaimed Almighty Queen of Stars and Princess of the White Rose Valley. The Heir Trials will determine who shall take the title as heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower. The event shall take place tomorrow at the Yarros Arena.”
Cheers and applause drowned out the room, hammering into her.
Em scowled, collapsing back onto her stool. How come a bunch of old guys got to choose everything that happened in this storyline? Wasn’t she, as the Main Character, supposed to be in charge?
She was done.
Em had officially had more than enough nonsense from this shitty prophecy.
If she couldn’t refuse these Heir Trials, she would purposefully lose them then.
You can’t force me to finish this quest, she thought to her Great Author, not caring if they heard her or not. Roden can take my place. I’m done with this bullshit, and I’m done with you.
That’s cute, sweetie.