Mark continued climbing the steep mountain steps, his legs and feet burning from the effort.
A dozen or so steps ahead of him, Gideon came to a stop and spread his arms. “Welcome to my home.”
Mark halted at Gideon’s side and his mouth dropped open. A vast temple complex spread out before him, its alabaster walls glowing in the setting sun, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens. Pillars stood at regular intervals, holding up the enormous roof. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and take it all in. “Is this where you live?”
Gideon nodded and marched across the courtyard to the temple’s entrance. He pushed open the heavy oak doors and entered the inner sanctum.
Mark followed close behind and the weight of silence struck him when the door sealed shut behind him.
Torches set in sconces threw flickering light across the stone walls and the scent of jasmine hung thick in the air.
Gideon led the way, his footsteps punctuating the silence.
“Where are we going first?” Mark asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
Gideon turned to him and smiled. “I wish to show you the training room first.”
They turned a corner and came to a large door. Gideon pushed it open, revealing a spacious room filled with training dummies, weapons racks, and practice swords.
“Wow.”
“Here, you’ll learn how to wield different types of weapons and hone your martial skills.”
Mark walked over to a wooden sword, picked it up, and swung it backwards and forwarsd. “This is amazing.”
Gideon nodded. “I expect you to take your training very seriously if you are to fulfill your destiny and defeat the Dark Lord.”
Mark swallowed hard. “I’ll do my best.”
Gideon led him around the room, pointing out the different weapons and apparatus used for training.
Mark marveled at the variety of swords, spears, maces, and daggers, and followed Gideon through a second door.
“And this is the armoury.”
Mark gaped at the plate and chainmail, the helmets and shields. “Is this all for me?”
“No.”
“There are more chosen ones?”
Gideon chuckled. “The clue is in your title—there is only one chosen one.”
“Who chooses?”
“Fate.”
Mark frowned. “Who?”
Gideon waved a hand. “You are the chosen one. Your destiny is mapped out in prophecy.”
“And that’s why I have a birthmark?”
“That is part of it.” Gideon opened another door and led the way through a maze of corridors.
“So, what types of things will I need to learn?”
“Weapons, especially swords, hand-to-hand combat, using and caring for equipment, archery, tactics, stealth, healing, navigation, and physical fitness.”
Mark bit down on his bottom lip. “That sounds like a lot.”
“It is. But I expect you to learn quickly as time may be short.”
“What do you do for fun?”
Gideon stopped and glared at Mark. “You will focus on what we need to do. There is no time for frivolity. The fate of the world is at stake.”
“I understand. Sorry, sir.”
Gideon clapped a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “No need to apologise. I just need you to know how serious this is.”
Mark nodded. “I do…it’s just—”
“It’s a lot to take in. I understand, but we do have work to do.” He carried on along the corridor and stopped in front of a small door. “This will be your living quarters,” Gideon said, pushing open the door.
Mark stepped inside and looked around. A single bed lay flush against the left-hand corner. A chest stood at the foot of the bed and a desk and chair occupied a space in front of the window. “It’s perfect.”
Mark started when the door swung open and a young man walked in. He stood at six-feet tall and had the muscular build of a warrior, with long blond hair braided down his back.
“This is Derengard,” Gideon said. “He is your training partner.”
Mark shook Derengard’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Derengard looked Mark up and down then turned to Gideon. “Are you sure he’s ready?”
“Of course he’s not ready.” Gideon put a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “But, trust me, he’s the one.”
Derengard’s gaze shifted to the birthmark on Mark’s forearm and he made the sign of the star across his chest. “By the Four. You really are the chosen one.”
A chill ran down Mark’s body and he offered Derengard a shrug. “Gideon seems to think so.”
“I do.” Gideon folded his arms and looked between Mark and Derengard. “We will begin your training on the morrow.”
Mark stirred at the sound of a bell tolling across the temple complex. He rubbed his eyes and started at the sight of Derengard standing at the foot of his bed.
“Get dressed,” Derengard said, his voice flat and serious.
“What time is it?”
Derengard folded his arms and looked down his nose at Mark. “We have a task to do.”
Mark sat up and stretched. “What task?”
Derengard didn’t respond, instead he turned on his heels and left Mark alone in the room.
With deep lines furrowing his brow, Mark dragged his clothes on and dashed to the privy.
“What are you doing?” Derengard asked from the doorway.
Mark glanced back at him and shuddered. “I’m peeing.”
Derengard sniffed but did not move until Mark finished. “Come.”
Mark followed as Derengard marched ahead.
“Are we going to have breakfast?”
Derengard glanced back. “We eat once we complete our task.”
Mark stepped outside. The first light of sunrise washed over Ostreich below, the land spreading out as a patchwork of green and brown, with rolling hills and dense forests stretching into the distance. Rivers meandered their way through the landscape, shimmering in the early morning light.
As he looked westward, Mark gazed at the Braun Sea, the water meeting the horizon, a deep shade of blue that seemed almost black in the distance.
Mark followed Derengard down the steep steps that led up the mountain, running at an almost full speed. Mark struggled to keep up, his legs aching, his breathing laboured.
He stumbled and almost fell, but Derengard caught him and pushed him forward. “Come on, Mark. Keep going.”
“You’re…going…too…fast…”
“We don’t have time to waste.”
Mark pushed on, his heart pounding in his chest, sweat pouring down his face.
Derengard showed no signs of slowing down.
Finally, they reached the bottom of the mountain, and Derengard slowed to a halt. “You did well.”
Breathless and coated in sweat, Mark collapsed to the ground. He stared up at the blue sky and lay on his back, his chest heaving with each breath.
Derengard looked down at him and curled his lip. “Get up.”
“But—”
“Up!”
Mark staggered to his feet, the cold air burning his lungs.
“Come.” Derengard jogged back towards the steps and Mark followed.
“Can we slow down a bit?”
“No time for that.”
Mark stumbled and dropped to one knee. “Please. I just…I just need a second…I just need to catch my breath.”
Derengard didn’t stop. Instead, he turned and ran backwards up the steps. “We have to go back up. Come on.”
Mark growled and forced himself to stand.
“Mark, come on. Don’t just stand there. Get running.”
Gritting his teeth, Mark ran up the steps.
s they climbed higher and higher, Mark’s thighs burned with exhaustion. He gasped for air, but Derengard didn’t slow down—he didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat.
When they reached the summit, Mark flopped onto the ground, panting and sweating.
Derengard stood over him and shook his head.
Mark met Derengard’s gaze. “It’s going to get easier, right?”
Derengard nodded. “It will, but you have to push through the pain. The Dark Lord won’t give you a break, so neither can we.”
Mark nodded. “I don’t think I’m up to the task.”
“You’re not.”
A stab of emptiness welled in his chest. “But we can try?”
“We can try.” Derengard folded his arms. “We will run these steps three times every morning.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? Three times? Every morning?”
“You’ll get used to it.” Derengard let out a sigh. “Come on, let’s go again.”
Mark groaned but forced himself to follow Derengard back down the steps, his legs shaking with each stride.
They reached the bottom and turned around to go back up. He trudged up each step, his muscles screaming in protest.
But he climbed and finally reached the summit. He found Derengard waiting for him, looking fresh and alert.
Mark sunk to the ground, unable to go on, his legs spent, his eyes streaming with tears.
Derengard crouched beside him. “You’ll get there, Mark. It’s all part of the process.”
“I know…” Mark puffed out a breath and forced himself to stand. “Let’s go again.”
Derengard smiled. “Let’s.”
“And then we can eat breakfast?”
“Yes. And then we can eat.”
Mark sat at the breakfast table with Derengard and Gideon, eating a plate of eggs. He was surprised at how hungry he felt after his morning run and shoveled the scrambled eggs into his mouth with a spoon.
Gideon looked up from his own food and smiled at Mark. “So, how did you find your morning run?”
Mark swallowed his mouthful and kept his eyes fixed on his plate, “Exhausting, sir.”
Gideon nodded. “It will build your strength and stamina. You’ll need both in abundance.”
Mark frowned. “I don’t know what bundances are.”
“Abundance. It’s one word.” Gideon chuckled. “It means a lot.”
“So, I’ll need a lot of strength and stamina if I’m to take on the Dark Lord?”
“When, Mark.” Gideon raised a finger. “When you take on the Dark Lord…and defeat him.”
“How?”
“With the Sword of Destiny, of course.” Gideon wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair. “And, today, you will have your first lesson in sword fighting.”
Mark’s eyes grew wide. “Sword fighting? Really?”
“Really.”
Gideon rose from his seat. “But first, I suggest you need to change into a fresh tunic. Your current clothes smell.”
Mark sniffed his right armpit and cringed. “Oh.”