"If you go with the flow you'll eventually end up over the waterfall." - Adam R. Gwizdala
Aiden staggered out of the doors of his school and stumbled down the steps, panting heavily. He let his backpack slide off his shoulder and fall to the ground. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees. The wrenching in his stomach increased, and he could barely keep himself from falling over. He was getting lightheaded.
Aiden stared at the beacon, the bright light calling him, wanting him to come to it. He took a deep breath and stood straight again. His mind cleared. He needed to get to that light. Aiden had no clue how, but he knew that light was important. Forthwith he started to walk, leaving his bag on the sidewalk behind him.
Aiden glided, never taking his eyes off the beacon. He somehow knew exactly where he was going though he wasn't paying attention to where he was walking. And abruptly he was outside Havenbrook, on the thick wood's edge. The light so much bigger and brighter now, but it didn't hurt to look directly at it. Aiden watched as it turned from white to a blazing red. The pain in his gut had left, morphing into an indescribable feeling that spread throughout his entire being. It was like a thousand tiny needles right underneath his skin, ready to dig through his skin but not entering it yet. It wasn't exactly painful, per say, just strange.
The light glowed even brighter, willing Aiden to come to it. The boy peered warily into the forest, still for a few seconds. Then, with a deep inhale of breath, Aiden plunged into the woodland.
Jasira watched him amble to the Beacon, perched on a high branch above him hidden by the green leaves and shadows. He was certainly not what she expected. She imagined the Chosen One to be like a hero out of a fairy tale; tall, muscular, all powerful, noble and mighty looking. this boy was lean and lithe, was average in height, and a very normal looking. Not to mention the fact that he was very young, possibly the same age as her!
Jasira silently leaped to the next tree, squinting through the bright red light from the Beacon. The boy seemed to be unfazed nonetheless. He continued to walk towards the Beacon, mesmerized, and Jasira continued to stalk him.
The boy finally stopped, the Beacon shining brightly in the center of a small clearing. He stared at it in awe. Jasira studied him, curious but doubtful. She didn't believe that this boy could be him. He seemed so, what's the word? Average. She peered at him through the leaves of the young Longfellow pine tree she was perched in. Jasira didn't entirely believe this boy could be the Chosen One, but couldn't help herself from hoping that he was. The war was growing more horrid each passing day. It needed to end. Soon.
The boy took a step forward, his arm extending hesitantly, slowly reaching for the light.
No one knew how exactly the Beacon worked, but understood the basics. Every ten years, it shined bright to us, but was unseen by the sublunary humans. Each decade it would call upon one man or woman who may be worthy of being the Chosen One. That person would go to the Beacon, and the Beacon would "search" them, looking into their mind, their heart, and their soul. And each time the Beacon would reject them. This has been they way it has been for 6 centuries, and with each rejection her people began to lose faith.
But no matter how ordinary this boy may look, Jasira held on to that small amount of hope that just maybe...
The boy froze, his hand an inch away from the Beacon. Jasira furrowed her brows and frowned slightly. The Beacon's light glowed even brighter, turning redder than ever. What is happening? The boy tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, bring his ear closer to the Beacon as if straining to hear a whisper. Intrigued, Jasira watched. The boy then unfroze and blinked. Then he thrusted his hand into the blazing red light.
It engulfed him, spreading across him until he was a silhouette of red light. Jasira waited for the Beacon to turn white again, the sign of rejection, but it didn't. Instead it turned gold.
Stunned, her eyes widened as the Beacon came down, retreating into the boy, burning brighter and brighter until it was blinding. Just as she was about to shield her eyes and turn away the light faded, absorbing into his skin. with her heart beating wildly, Jasira watched as the boy staggered before falling to the ground in a dead faint.
Jasira sat on the branch of the tree in disbelief. The boy had passed, and she witnessed it. He passed!
"Oh my god." she mumbled, overwhelmed. She looked down at the boy again in a daze, before shaking her head.
"I have to get him to Adofo." she told herself, but she couldn't completely shake the giddiness she was feeling. Jasira jumped down from her branch, land on her feet a few feet away from the boy. She crept slowly towards him, as if moving too fast would awaken him. Jasira knelt down next to him, observing him once again. But now that she was closer up she could actually make out the details of his face.
Now that she could actually see what he looked like, she decided that the boy wasn't as ordinary as she once thought. He was skinny but had some noticeable muscle, and had very light olive skin that still held a faint golden glow, a single freckle above the corner of his mouth, messy cinnamon brown hair that covered his forehead, and his facial structure suggested Latin and Native american history (Cherokee maybe). His eyes were closed, so she had no idea what color they were and she found herself wondering about them.
Jasira inhaled, then wrapped her arm around the boy and hoisted him up with little problem. She started to walk, the boy dragging along beside her. As she walked, that same rush as before came back, and she felt a wide variety of emotions. Exhilaration and joy and hope, but also fear and the slightest bit of doubt and disbelief. Jasira looked over at the unconscious boy next to her.
"I hope the Beacon chose correctly."