Chapter 1: The Seeker

"In every era, there are a select few that were chosen at birth to be the saviors of the world. As stated in the prophecy, every era will see the rebirth of a great evil. The Enemies are just like you, selected with the utmost care and granted powers beyond your wildest imaginations. Every era also yields a Harbinger and a Seeker. This era has yielded the Harbinger McLean and the Seeker Hatchet. Such a triumph it is then, that the Seeker and Harbinger were able to gather all of the Chosen. This is their sacred duty, to find and teach the Chosen to harness their powers and to fight the evil that awaits. McLean and Hatchet were the first Harbinger and Seeker to successfully find all of the Chosen before any were destroyed by that ancient evil in over twelve hundred years. Now what exactly are the Chosen? They are warriors destined to fight, they are individuals who are uniquely tied to the Ether, the ever flowing source of life in the universe. They draw power from the Ether in mighty power streams. These streams are bound to a single word, different for each of the Chosen, and unknown to all. These words channel the power of the Chosen into usable forms."

The old man stopped in the middle of his speech. He pulled one bony hand to his wrinkled temple and continued, "You are all Chosen. You all have a gift, you can tap into the Ether. You all have your own, specific word that will give you dominion over its meanings. That word should be always in your thoughts, especially when you train." He spoke in a voice that demanded respect and compliance. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands together before saying, "You do not know your words, you must find them. This is our primary goal here, to help you understand your powers and find your word, your tether to the Ether."

He opened his eyes again to gaze at different members of the Chosen, two girls clinging to each other, several skeptical faces, worry in most of the others. Water began to come lightly out of the old man's eyes. "I cannot say that you will all survive, or that none of you will betray our training and trust. But we will prepare you as best as we can to control your power, and to live through this surely arduous battle that is to come."

The man stepped down from the stage he was on. He walked through a set of large metal double doors as soon as he reached the floor, wishing to leave as quickly as possible.

A few seconds of silence passed over the crowd, before an uproar of yells and questions came off their lips. In the commotion, the man formerly known as Chef Hatchet dashed to the stage and calmed the wily crowd. "Girls, boys, I know you didn't sign up for this. I know you did not expect this, I know you have questions, and I know you might be scared, but you must bear with me. I know you are just teenagers, and you were just campers not too long ago, but this is a necessary change. I will answer all of your questions, it is my duty as Seeker." Chef bowed down, shocking most in attendance. Showing respect was definitely not one of Chef Hatchet's usually activities. A thick silence glazed over them.

A voice soon called out, however, "So this whole show was a set up?" It was Noah, one of the skeptical faces from before.

The large man looked around for the voice, but found it hard to concentrate on any one in particular. "Yes, it was set up with the sole intention of finding the Chosen."

Skeptics began morphing into questioning stares, except for Noah and a few others, who refused to believe the elaborate tale. One of them piped up, "How do we know this isn't just some big joke, how do you even expect us to believe this?!" A girl with bright hair and blue clothes, Bridgette, practically yelled.

Chef tried with some effort to locate this voice, but in spite of the higher volume, he still found it impossible to single out the noise. "You must have noticed some odd things going on."

Most of the teenagers murmured in slight agreement, even Bridgette's and Noah's hardened skepticism softened by this revelation. A lot of strange happenings had been occurring lately.

"The most important thing right now is to train. That will best ensure that you will all make it out alive, and save humanity as we know it." Chef looked around the room, reading the facial expressions of the campers turned Chosen. He began again, "What we need to do is figure out the word that tethers you to the Ether. If we can find those words, it will hasten your training extremely." Chef looked around once more, looking for one camper in particular. "Some words tend to appear consistently in every era, but your words could be literally any word you can think of. And some will be harder to figure out than others. Some of you may never find your words, but I'm guessing at least one of you knows what your word is already."

A nervous interruption from the crowd, a girl in pink shorts, Katie said, "Are we going to have to fight?"

Chef was able to find this voice, she was in the front of the crowd. "Not all of you. I know some of you don't possess the constitution to engage in combat, but we need all of you to help in any way that you can, with training and support. For example, there are some words that will not give you any combat prowess at all, and some other powers are in a group titled 'Enhancer-type powers.' These powers allow you to boost the abilities of others, rather than giving you offensive means yourself. While that may sound like the short end of the stick, I am telling you that those with Enhancer-type powers are among the most important in this struggle."

A girl dressed in dark clothing, gothic, raised her voice, "There's still something you haven't told us, where the hell are we!?"

Chef hatchet looked at her, shock in his eyes. He had forgotten. He had taken them here in their sleep and forgotten to tell them anything of it. "We're under the island. I told you the show's sole intention was to gather you all, and the location was no mere coincidence. This is where you will be staying for most of your training. You cannot endanger yourselves by leaving this place." It was really a huge underground compound made of metal, kept secret to all but a select few.

"Another thing you haven't told us. How are we even going to figure out our words if they can be literally anything?" Jo chimed in.

Chef smiled at Jo, "I knew there was a reason I liked you, soldier. You're perceptive. As I said before, some words appear consistently over the ages. For example, the Memory power has appeared in every generation of Chosen since we began recording words. Other words manifest themselves in the user's personality, like the Void word. For others, we will have to observe and deduce until it becomes apparent. A basic, uncontrolled form of your powers should be manifesting already, or soon. As you refine your power with training, more abilities should become available to you. And with those, we can hone in on your word even more." Chef shifted his gaze from Jo to the crowd. "But there's something you should be aware of. It takes time to learn if your word is what you think it is. Never assume you know what your word is unless you have tested it substantially. It's dangerous to grow too confident in yourself."

After a few seconds, another voice could be heard, "Where's Chip?"

Chef glanced at Lindsay, and said, "Chris... Is resting. Every era, there is a Grandmaster, Harbinger, and Seeker. The old man who spoke to you first is Grandmaster Siegfried. Chris is the Harbinger and I am the Seeker. The Harbinger is like a seer. Chris has visions of the battle, hazy and cryptic. When the Harbinger has visions, it signals the coming of the Chosen, and of the Enemy. The visions take a large toll on Chris, and he needs rest." Chef was about to stop, but found this the perfect opportunity to explain the roles of the three adults. "The Seeker's duty is to find and gather the Chosen. The Grandmaster is in charge of this island, this complex, and all of the records of the Chosen from ages passed."

Chef waited for just a minute more for any more questions. Once that time had elapsed, he began again, "Your training will begin after your lunch. You'll be thrilled to learn that I will not be your cook." A chorus of cheers rose to that statement. "Instead, I will be training you in physical manifestations of your powers, and physical fitness." The previous cheers were matched with an equally enthusiastic groan. "There will be three separate types of training, physical, mental, and individual. As I said, I will be handling the physical training. Chris, once he is feeling well, will handle your mental training. The individual training will be handled by the Grandmaster. He will most probably be the one who helps you discover your word." Chef took a final glance at the crowd of Chosen, and gave them a wave towards a door behind them. "I will see you all after you eat."

The campers turned Chosen left the room in a rush. None of them had eaten since lunch the day before, and most had only just realized their hunger. Owen was leading the pack, as he had sprinted towards the smell of food.

The room was lined with tables, the kind you'd find in a cafeteria. The food was arranged on one side of the room like a large buffet. And what delectable food it was. Fried fish, grilled meats, steamed vegetables, fresh fruit. They had really gone all out on the foods. There was even a plate of cookies and a large chocolate cake at the very end of the buffet.

Needless to say, Owen was in heaven. Surely, all the other campers were too, but Owen was especially gleeful about the food. He grabbed himself a tray of, well, everything, and sat down. Season one veterans, along with Alejandro and Sierra, began sitting by him, occupying the three tables around him.

The newer campers sat at one table by themselves, excluding a certain redhead, Scott. He had opted to sit with the old cast, as he had made far too many enemies on the show. He took a seat beside a girl who had laid her head down in frustration. The people around her had the oddest looks on their faces, like they had lost track of what they were saying. "This seat taken?" Scott asked.

"No, but you might as well go away, nobody's been able to talk to me," the girl said, not lifting her head from the table.

"And why is that?" Scott asked.

Bridgette looked up at him finally. "Everyone gets confused when I talk to them. Just give it a minute, it'll get you too."

Scott gave her an odd look, and was about to say something before being interrupted by the blond boy on the other side of the surfer girl. "Maybe it has something to do with your powers, Bridge," Geoff said.

Bridgette was shocked at this. Geoff had actually snapped out of his confusion and uttered a coherent sentence, something she hadn't seen in days. "I think that has something to do with it." She turned around to Scott, narrowing her eyes, "Scott, was it?" Scott gave a small nod. "What about your powers?"

Scott shrugged, "I haven't really noticed anything overly odd about myself."

Bridgette was about to say something, but Chef's voice came over an intercom, "Five minutes left, finish eating, then exit through the red doors at the end of the room."

Bridgette looked at her food, mostly untouched. She began eating in earnest, trying to fill her stomach in the allotted time.

At the fourth season table, Cameron was speculating possible connections to their powers. "Dawn, maybe your ability to read auras is part of your word, and your ability to talk to animals."

Dawn looked thoughtfully at him for just a moment. "I suppose that is a very real possibility."

Zoey took a bite of her food. "I don't know about you guys, but my food got cold really fast. Maybe that has something to do with someone's powers."

In response to this, Anne Maria rolled her eyes and spoke up, "It's just chilly in here, not everything is caused by our powers."

"I don't know what you guys are talking about. It's pretty warm in here, and my food's still hot," Mike interjected.

Cameron raised an eyelid. "That is odd... But I'd like for everyone to heed Anne Maria's warning. There are many other things going on in the world, let's not put everything on our powers."

Bridgette was just finishing her food when Chef's voice came over the intercom once again, "Alright, Chosen, your training starts immediately. Please exit the cafeteria through the red door and report for your physical training. "

Everyone at the table stood up, including Scott, who began to walk towards the doors. Bridgette caught up with him. "Hey, I'll see you around."

Scott was surprised. He knew he wasn't the friendliest person, and rarely got on people's good sides. "Sure thing. See you around."

They then parted and went through the red door. They stepped into a large room which looked conspicuously like a high school gym. Half of it did, at least. The other half was made fully out of steel. It was lined with archery targets and dummies. Most of the campers assumed correctly that it was for honing combat. In the center of the room, Chef Hatchet stood on the line dividing the two halves. "Welcome, Chosen, to your first physical training session. You see the two parts of this room before you. To my right is where you will hone your fitness and body," Chef said, gesturing to the gym portion of the room. "To my left is where you will train your combat abilities and powers." Chef gestured to the metallic portion of the room. "If any of you wish to demonstrate a power that you already possess, you may do so now."

Gwen raised her hand and took a single step forward. She then took a deep breath, and was at Chef's side immediately, causing him to let out a small yelp of surprise. That, in turn, caused laughter to spring up out of the crowd.

Chef scowled at the incident, but looked at Gwen with eyes that held pride. "Good job, soldier. As for the rest of you, your powers may have manifested, but you simply can't control them yet. This will change over time as you train. For now, I need you all to work on what you can. That means laps! Go! Go! Go!" Chef screamed at the Chosen as they began to run around the room. He grabbed Gwen's shoulder when she prepared to run as well and said to her, "I can think of about four ways you could be doing that. It's either super speed, teleportation, a time stop, or an illusion. What I need you to do is tell me exactly what happened."

Gwen looked apprehensive for just a second and said, "I'm impressed, Chef. Who would've thought you'd be the thinking type?" The scowl returned to Chef's face, but it retreated back when Gwen spoke again. "Well, if I focus hard enough, everything stops. It's as if I can hold my breath long enough, and everything will stop with it."

"Then definitely a time stop. You might just have one powerful word on your hands. I'll be sure to make note of it for the Grandmaster." Gwen nodded and took off running with the rest of the campers.

All was going smoothly, so far. They couldn't have hoped for a better outcome. All of the Chosen, safe in their facility.

At this time, the one and only Chris McLean walked through the door into the gym with shallow eyes and a slumping posture. Chef greeted him with a light wave, "Good to see you're up, finally."

Chris was not amused, to say the least. "I've seen them. I've seen an Enemy."

Chef Hatchet gave him a quizzical look. "What have you seen?"

Chris looked down at the floor. "Beasts, giant beasts flying through the air. So many of them. Wings, scales, teeth." Chris couldn't find any more words to describe it. The vision was hazy, and he was rapidly losing memory of it, like one forgets the details of a dream.

Chef gave him another look. "Are you ready for training?"

Chris sighed inwardly, "Yes, just don't send me the stupid ones yet." He turned away to walk to his "classroom."

Chef let out a small chuckle. "You may have become Harbinger, but you're still Chris McLean," he said to no one in particular. Chef gazed over to the Chosen who were running laps. "I'll only send a few, for now."

Chef galloped over to the teenagers. "Lucky break for some of you! Chris says he's ready to start teaching!" He glanced over the Chosen, trying to pick the smartest ones. "Scrawny kid!" Chef pointed at Cameron, who gave a relieved sigh. "Other scrawny kid!" Chef now pointed at Cody, who pumped his fist into the air. "Third scrawny kid!"

It was Noah's turn. He responded with a rather drawn out roll of the eyes, "Really creative. If we do indeed have these powers, and you expect us to fight some battle that we're probably going to die in, wouldn't it make sense for you to show at least a little respect? I mean, at least memorizing our names?"

Noah got no answer, just a smirk from Chef as he carried on. "Uptight girl!"

That was Courtney, who let her jaw drop in offense. "I resent that!"

Chef ignored her, too. "OTHER scrawny kid!" Chef pointed at Harold, who brought his hand up to his face and sighed. "And... Gwen and Heather."

Chef received five simultaneous grunts from the scrawny kids and uptight girl. "You remember their names, but not mine? Come on!" Courtney whined loudly.

Chef laughed a hearty laugh, then stared at the teens that he had called out. "Go on! Get! Out the red door and into the blue one!"

The seven Chosen grumbled as they left the room. Chef turned his back on the others, who simply stood, motionless and silent. Chef's ears perked up. "Why don't I hear running?!"

The teens jumped to action, quickly resuming their laps. They dreaded this moment ever since Chef had rushed to the stage. He had reverted back to his old self. Chef laughed inwardly at the Chosen's worried faces. "Might as well make them suffer before they can muster the power to hurt me," he thought.

Through the blue door, Chris' classroom looked exactly like a school classroom, complete with desks and dry erase board. The entering teens took it in with suspicion. Chris had his face down on his desk, and he was making a noise just a bit too similar to snoring.

Heather pulled up her nose at the sight. She had to spend the rest of her day, and foreseeable future with the people she hated the most. Needless to say, she was in no mood to deal with a sleepy teacher. To remedy the problem, she grasped a dictionary from a nearby bookshelf and slammed it squarely down on the desk beside Chris' head.

He responded by falling to the ground in a panic. "Geez," he moaned out while rubbing his head where it had hit the floor. "Couldn't you just have woken me up peacefully?"

Heather sneered at this, but otherwise said nothing. Chris glanced around at the chosen teenagers. "Chef picked a real nerd herd," Chris said, earning more than a few eye rolls, and a death glare from Courtney. "But that's good. It means you guys should pick up on this stuff easier."

Chris walked slowly to the board and began to write something, until he noticed a whisper from the students. He turned around, hands at his hips, to see a fuming Gwen and a smug Heather. He raised an eyebrow, but turned and continued to write. When he was just about done, he heard a shout.

"Yeah? Well your word is probably 'Witch!'" Chris turned around again with a huff. Gwen was red in the face, and her hands were clenched in tight fists. Heather's jaw had dropped some distance.

"Shut! It!" Chris emphasized each word by banging on the board with a wooden pointer he had inexplicably obtained. He glared at them both for good measure, then turned back around, once again. "Change. That's something all of your words have in common, it's something that every word does. It changes the outcome of things, it changes you. You can exact change in the world." He pointed to the word "change" he had written on the board, rather sloppily. "The best way to learn new powers is to try to change things. Go ahead, try to change something," he invited the class. "Anything you want. You just need to will it into changing."

They tried for a good five minutes, nothing seeming to come to fruition of it. That was until Courtney let out a rather obnoxiously loud, "YES!" and rose from her seat. "I've done it! I've changed your atrocious handwriting into something much more neat," she said, gesturing a finger to the board. Sure enough, the word "change" was now written with perfect penmanship.

"The power of excellent handwriting, what a useful ability," Harold snorted out, earning a few chuckles.

Courtney turned swiftly, adopting her signature death glare once more. Before she could say anything, Gwen fell out of her chair, reached out, and grabbed Courtney's waist, bringing her down to the floor as well. "Get OFF of me, Gwen! Why would you do that?!"

Gwen jumped to her feet, beet red in embarrassment. "I- I didn't!" She struggled to justify her fall, not knowing exactly what force of nature led to her tumbling onto the floor. Then, as if struck by a revelation, her attitude changed completely. "It's all Heather's fault! She did it!"

Heather's face morphed into one of mock surprise. "Gwen, I would never do anything to hurt you. Besides, I'm way over here."

"I felt you push me!"

"I did no such thing."

"Did so!"

"No she didn't," chimed Noah, who was sitting behind the two. "Unless her glare can push you, she didn't do anything."

Chris cleared his throat and spoke, "Guys, please refrain from using your powers on each other." He rolled his eyes for added effect. "Now Heather, did you cause Gwen to fall?"

Heather smirked her signature smirk, saying, "Yep, I guess my powers are more developed than the lot of you."

"I'll make note of it." Chris said as his fingers busily scampered across his keyboard. "Does anybody else think they're close to having a breakthrough?"

Harold remained silent, but thoughtful. Cameron had a look of displeasure. Courtney and Heather had a look of smug arrogance. Gwen was still peeved over falling. Cody was waving his hands around the chair in front of him, trying to do as Chris said and exact change on it.

Noah was simply staring down at the pencil he had brought with him in deep concentration. At the peak of this, his head was shaking from the exertion, drawing Chris' attention. Then, suddenly, nothing happened. Noah's concentration broke and he sighed deeply in defeat.

Chris gave the boy one of his own signature rolls of the eyes and then dismissed the class, still weary from his visions. He began to walk towards the door.

Noah glared at the former host. In retaliation for the earlier look, Noah threw his pencil at the back of Chris' head. The pencil missed its mark and flew past Chris' face. However, just before it would have hit the ground, its trajectory changed drastically and struck its mark: the bridge of Chris' nose.

Chris turned around, angry once again at his new students. "I told you not to use your powers on others!"

Noah smirked. "You said not to use them on each other, you never specified that we could not used them on you."

Chris' ears were fuming metaphorical steam. He couldn't articulate a comeback or response, so instead he flew out of the room in a fit.

The former campers followed suit, albeit much more calmly.

So, shoot me a review, tell me what you think. I tried to write this for NaNoWriMo. Sadly, I got a rather late start and was not able to reach 50k. I only got around a fifth of the way.

But I really like this idea. I'm really looking for some constructive criticisms, specifically on the pacing in the story because I can't pinpoint it, but it's off. I just don't know why.

So thanks for reading, write a review, let me know how I did, and I'll update soon! Jordan, out!