The Choice

Playing God was not something I ever aspired to do in my lifetime, and yet, by the end of the night I would be holding the life of one man and the death of another in two golden chalices.

It was fate that brought me here, and no amount of prayer or faith can save me from the decision that is mine, and mine alone. After living sixteen years with decisions made for me, the first decision I could claim my own would be a deadly one.

On every maiden’s seventeenth birthday, they are presented to the village with a feast at which any potential bachelors will speak to the Elders for her hand in marriage. Every year the men converse prior to the feast so that no two men would speak up for the same woman. And every year this works out; the men find a compromise and the maiden is given one option, one choice.

But on the feast day of my seventeenth birthday, I had no easy decision. Two spoke for me that day; the village’s beloved hero and my own beloved friend.

I had expected neither, instead expecting a friend of my father’s or one of my brother’s acquaintances who was just looking for a wife, not love. I had no desire for marriage and no preference in the matter. But, when I was brought to the head of the table at the beginning of the feast to see my husband-to-be, I was more than surprised to see two men there.

Both of them were only a year older than I, barely men themselves. The villagers cheerfully called out ‘Seth! Kenzie, pick Seth!’, rooting for the son of the Chief Elder and the heartthrob of all the women. Only a few voices, close friends I grew up with, cheered for Oliver, a simple and lively villager who was no hero but would be a fine choice as well.

I was seated between the two, Seth on my left and Oliver on my right, and I could barely contain my nerves as the feast was served.

My mind raced as I idly made the necessary small talk that was expected of me. I spoke of new skirts I had dyed and the children I cared for during the day, but my mind was on who I would be going to the chapel to see and who I would be going to the graveyard to see.

Casting a look out of the corner of my eye, I studied Seth.

He was definitely as handsome as all of the village women said, with tame chestnut hair that was short without looking unruly and serious dark brown eyes. Since he was a child he had been treated like an adult and the muscles that looked so scrawny as a boy became well defined as he matured. He was never one for simple pleasures or distractions; always focused and responsible. I shouldn’t say that as if it was a bad thing because everything he does he does for the village, and it was very noble and very admirable.

I tried imagining a life with Seth… it would surely please both my family and his if we were to wed. With his grandfather being the Chief Elder and my grandmother being part of the Council of Elders, a lot was expected of us, and a future with him would guarantee a life of serving the good of the village. While he would be expected to gather supplies and hunt, I would be left at home to raise our children and help the other young mothers. It was not an unhappy life, but it was one bound with ties of duty and responsibility…

I heard a deep voice clear his throat and shook my head to clear my thoughts. Unaware that I was staring, I blinked as Seth caught my eye and gave me a questioning look. Blushing, I turned the other way, now facing Oliver.

Ah. Oliver.

He was my closest playmate as a child, sharing the same childish dreams and foolish wishes. As I look at him now, I suppose that his childish nature could still be seen, judging from his unruly red hair and his somewhat haphazard manner. Even now at the table he had bits of food falling off the side of his plate, his face matching the red table cloth as he explained a joke to the younger children.

Unlike Seth, Oliver was not taken seriously by the village. He was not well built like the other men, but he what he lacked in work he made up for in entertainment. He was the favorite among the children, always telling stories and tales that enchanted their dreams. A future with him… well, it’s hard to imagine Oliver with a future at all.

He was free of most expectations and responsibilities, but also free of obligations. I wouldn’t be surprised if, someday, he just up and left for days, going on some ‘adventure’ or ‘journey’ that he always tells stories about. And, if he did that, where would I be?

“Kenzie, are you alright?”

It was his voice, jovial and young with a hint of concern, and the lightness of his hand on mine that brought my mind back, and I blankly nodded my head. “I’m alright,” I reassured him, repeating the words to Seth who patted my back awkwardly, (he was not one to show affection).

“I’m just worried about the chalices,” I said quietly for the two of them to hear.

At those words, Oliver visibly blanched and Seth took a deep breath, neither speaking. I realized how terrifying it must be, knowing that because of your love, your life was at risk.

Not that I believed that both of them truly loved me. Seth and I were merely acquaintances; he was always at work and I at play that we had never really had time to share and make a bond. Oliver and I… we were friends, and that’s the best way to put it. I enjoy his company and he enjoys mine, but I doubt what we have is love either.

“No matter what, there will be no hard feelings,” Oliver told Seth bravely, sticking out his shaking hand with a bit of hesitance.

Seth gave him a firm nod, grasping his hand and giving it a solid shake. “The choice is Kenzie’s and we are in no places to judge it.”

After their shake, a silence fell over the feast, and it was time for me to make my decision.

Lena, the next maiden to have a feast, presented me a tray with two golden chalices on it. One was filled with water, one with poisoned wine. I stood, taking the tray from her as she whispered which held which drink. I dismissed her with a nod and turned, now facing my village, my people, and the two men who waited anxiously for my response.

This tradition (to live with one and poison the other) was meant to ensure tranquility and peace in the village; to ensure that no men would fight over a wife. We all agreed it was cruel, but it was so old that no one dared change it. It was something people hated, but lived with; feared, but did not stop; cried over, but did not fix.

It was our own fear and lack of action that forced me to hold the two chalices in my hand, knowing very well which would kill and which would not. Knowing is one thing. But giving it away, that was the difficult part.

A hush fell over the village, everyone watching me impatiently, anxious to see who would live and who would die. Because of Seth, the decision was even more important: if I married him, he would become the next Chief Elder when he was of-age, but if I didn’t choose him, he would die.

My hands trembled and my grip on the tray shook as I realized how heavy the power of choosing life or death for another person was. I couldn’t bare look at Seth or Oliver, knowing that looking at their faces would make the decision even harder.

Seconds passed like hours, and the knowledge of which cup held death tore at my conscious. All my life I’d been waiting for a time when decisions were mine, not my parents’ or my villages’. And yet, now… when given the power and given the choice…

I decided to leave it up to fate.

Putting the tray down on the table, I gave it a small spin, letting the gold chalices dance around each other until I could no longer tell which was which. There was a collective gasp from the villagers, and Seth and Oliver took a deep breath as the tray came to a slow stop.

Without pausing a second, I grabbed the two chalices and handed one to each of them, unable to meet their gazes, knowing it would be the last time one of them met my eyes.

“This is my choice,” I said with a trembling voice, trying to sound confident but instead sounding terrified. Both men held the chalices up in the air with hesitance, waiting for me to tell them when to drink. With a small nod, I watched as they both drank the contents of each cup.

As they drank, I couldn’t help but think of the options again in my head. Did I want to live with duty or pleasure? Responsibility or carelessness? What was expected or what was frowned upon?

I couldn’t choose Seth or Oliver, so I chose fate. And when fate made it’s choice, I mourned over the loss, not liking my choice, but not regretting it either.

A/N: This short story was partially influenced by the story The Lady and the Tiger and the book The Forest of Hands and Feet. Feedback would be nice because I'm debating using this as my creative writing story for my Journalism class. :)