This is None of Your Business

“It is written in the Book of the Holy God that, once every one hundred years, the Dark Lord shall return, and the chosen one shall rise up to vanquish him before he can eradicate humanity.”

The young man stood before the priestess, not quite understanding her words. His entire life, he’d never heard of any sort of Dark Lord or chosen one. Not in history books or documentaries, or even from the older generations. The heavier question on his mind, however, was, “Me? I’m the chosen one?”

“This way, boy.”

He followed the priestess without a word as she ventured deeper into the abbey. Their journey took them deep into the bowels of the earth, where mosaics and paintings of arduous battles hung on every wall, and where countless others hurried about performing whatever duties were required of them.

He watched it all curiously, wondering why he’d even listened and followed the priestess. Perhaps it was the insanity of actually being the chosen one that made him follow through, if only to determine if it was a joke or not.

After what felt like an hour, they arrived at their destination. In a grand hall lined with tapestries depicting chosen ones of generations past, there stood a single armor stand loaded down with a golden set of armor. At its side hung a sword, which gleamed a brilliant silver in the torchlight.

“That’s my armor?”

The priestess gazed upon for it a moment, before chuckling and waving her hand. “No, this is none of your business.”

He stood there, confused by her words. “I’m sorry? But I’m the chosen one?”

“Yes, yes. We’ve done all the work, though, and we have for centuries. Just press this button and the Dark Lord will be gone for another hundred years.”