Chapter 1: A Hero's Journey
He'd been called the chosen one many times. In his land, it was the greatest honor, the highest prestige, to be handpicked by the gods to take on the fabled sword and fight the Dark One. It was called destiny.
He didn't want it.
He'd lived a simple life, been a simple boy grown into a simple man. He'd been raised alone in the forest, and there was nothing so wonderful as wiling away the hours amongst the leafy canopy, gazing at the sunset or tracing the line of the horizon, where the sky meant the distant sea.
He'd always wanted to go there. The sea called to him, like a siren in his blood, sometimes he thought he heard its voice singing him to sleep, or waking him in the night with its cries for help.
He wanted to go to it, but he was held back. The trees kept him safe, he couldn't leave their haven. He knew, like a strange premonition, that if he ever left the safety of the wood, he would never return. And it frightened him.
"Killian!"
He glanced down from his perch on the railing of his treehouse to see Tink waving at him. Tink was his only friend, the only one that was ever kind to him when he was different from the rest of the wood folk.
He watched as Tink flew up to join him, shaking out her gossamer wings and landing gracefully on the smooth wooden planks of his home. Killian didn't question his lack of wings, or the fact that he was so much taller and rougher than anyone else. He didn't resent Tink for her ability to fly or wield magic. In spite of the comfort he found in his home, and the peace of the forest, a part of him, one that grew louder and louder with each passing spring, desired to see the rest of the world, and to know if there were others like him.
"It's getting closer, isn't it?" Tink peered out into the brush, the only view from this height.
"Aye."
"I'll miss you."
He smiled at her as she squeezed his shoulder. "I'll miss you too."
A tinkling laugh escaped her mouth as she waved a hand. "You won't even notice. You'll be too busy having adventures, fulfilling your destiny."
"What is destiny? It sounds as if I'll just be waving a sword around."
Tink sighed. "You know all this. You were brought here from your land, to be protected by the fairies until you were old enough to fulfill your destiny. You were chosen, eons before your birth, to be the hero that defeats the Dark One and restores balance and peace to the land of the gods."
"Misthaven," he breathed. The name had been on the tip of his tongue, never far from his thoughts in the months since he'd been told of his fate. It was the land of his birth, the place out of time that was waiting for his return.
"Here," Tink said, slipping a tiny, clear object into his hand. He held it up to the fading light of the sun.
"A bean? Wonderful. I'm sure that will help with whatever manner of beast i'm sure to run into." Despite his sarcastic tone, he noticed that the bean was beautiful, like tiny rainbows had been captured in its miniscule form, just waiting to be released.
"It's a magic bean. You can use it anytime you like to communicate with me. I have one too." She held up another bean.
He gave a deep exhale. "How does it work then?"
"You just throw it on the ground. It will create a projection of me and we'll be able to speak."
His fingers closed around the bean. "Thank you, Tink."
She patted his hand. "Good luck, and Gods go with you."
/\
/\/\
The day he left was bittersweet. He hugged Tink farewell and she merrily waved him off, following the beaten path that he'd hardly ever had occasion to use. He was almost afraid of where he would end up, but at the same time there was an almost gleeful flutter in his chest. He was finally going to his land. He was finally going to see his people. Would they accept him? Would he have friends? Perhaps he could find himself another treehouse, or better yet, a house by the sea. It was almost too much to hope for.
His first task was to find the sword. Tink had told him that once he pulled it from its resting place, all would become clear.
According to legend, the sword could be found in a glade near a lake. Tink had estimated that he would arrive there in two days.
"You'll be judged," she said, glancing at him.
"Judged? By a sword?" This entire "quest" was becoming more preposterous by the minute.
She rolled her eyes. "The sword has to find you worthy. If you're meant to wield it, it will break free of the seal that was placed on it years ago."
"Oh, now there's a seal, too? What next, a unicorn must bless me before I'm to go near it?"
She punched him in the arm, fighting back a grin.
Remembering Tink's words made him want to turn back, to stop this nonsense. Who cared for the world? He could live out his days happily in the forest. There was enough beauty there to last a lifetime. He would never know what he was missing in Misthaven and therefore would never have cause to miss it.
And yet…
And yet that part of him that leapt at the chance to make something of himself, to be something more than a simple man, was prepared to risk everything, to endure every trial if it meant he would know something beyond the familiar.
If he never had the chance to rest his eyes on the land of his birth, if he never took the chance to try and make it there, well, he would regret it for the rest of his life. He couldn't spend the rest of his days wondering what might have been.
And that's what kept him walking for two days, stopping only to rest when the stars came out. And when he finally saw the sparkle of the sun off the crystal clear water of the lake, he felt as if it had been worth it already.
Like a man starved, he dropped to his knees at the edge of the water, cupping his hands gazing into the perfect mirror therein. He splashed his face, letting his head fall back, relishing the sensation of the water running over his skin, down his neck, into his hair.
He reached for more, this time drinking, and was surprised to find that it tasted sweet, like a spice he'd never heard or tasted before.
He was going for his second drink when he heard a sound, like a flutter or rustle. Glancing up, he noticed a large white bird. It was extremely beautiful, with a long neck that sloped over in a perfect arch, and pristine feathers that seemed to glow from within, almost as if they were touched with moonlight.
He found himself transfixed by the bird as it swam closer, and he if he didn't know better, he would swear it was watching him closely, like it was waiting for something.
Before he knew what he was doing, he'd stood up and was bending over, bowing to the bird. He caught himself after a moment, gazing in amazement at the creature and wondering what had prompted such a reaction. The bird seemed unimpressed, continuing to watch him as it swam in slow circles near the shore.
He grabbed his supplies and started skirting the shore, keeping an eye on the bird which continued its-was it pacing?
He shook his head and turned away, peering into the nearby trees that edged the lake, looking for the spot that Tink had said would mark the entrance to the glade.
He realized after what felt like hours of searching, when the sun was high overhead, that he must be missing something crucial. He decided to put the magic bean to the test and contact Tink.
He fished it out of his pocket and, after a brief moment of hesitation, threw it to the ground.
A puff of misty smoke rose up, and a moment later Tink's smiling face appeared. "Glad to see you figured out how to use the bean. What's up?"
"You told me how, Tink. But that doesn't matter. I can't find the bloody entrance to the glade."
Tink's face grew thoughtful for a moment before she clapped her hands. "You need to make an offering to the guardian. The guardian has to be sure of your worthiness before you can be allowed to approach the sword."
"Is it a unicorn then?"
"The legends don't say. It could be anything. Look around you, what sort of creatures live in that area? I'd be willing to bet you'll find your answer there."
He realized almost immediately who to look for.
"Many thanks, Tink. I think I know exactly who the guardian is."
She gave a little wave before disappearing.
Killian made his way back to where he had encountered the bird, and was relieved to find that it had stayed in the same area, almost as if it was waiting for him to realize what he should do.
He approached the lakeshore, stopping inches from the gently lapping waves.
"I'm here to see the guardian."
The bird's head turned ever so slightly toward him as it continued to glide through the water.
"I was told that I'm meant to fulfill a great destiny, find some sword, and save a land from the Dark One."
The bird continued to glide. Killian was growing more and more frustrated.
"Look, I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. I'm just a man. I grew up amongst a people that I can't even call my own, an outcast. I know nothing of the world beyond the borders of the forest, but I want to see my homeland. I want to know that I'm not alone, that I'm worthy of the world I was born into."
The bird's head had turned completely, the dark eyes regarding him. It tilted its head as it swam toward him, stopping mere feet away. He felt his body leaning forward unconsciously, bringing him closer and closer to the creature.
The bird dipped its head, and some alien part of him knew that it wanted him to kneel, so he did. He watched it's face come closer as it stretched out its neck, touching his forehead ever so softly with the tip of its beak.
A shudder went through his whole body, not unpleasant, but...different, like he was suddenly made of mist and light.
The swan retreated and he watched as it resumed its pacing closer to the center of the lake. He stood and looked around, realizing that it was nearing evening.
A sparkle caught his eye, and he followed his feet, like a tether, to the source of the light, which didn't appear to have a source.
He realized after he'd been walking for what felt like ages that it was magic, manifesting itself into a form that he could see. The bird had blessed him with vision.
The path had led him into the trees, winding in and out down a nearly indiscernible path, with only the dying light of the sun to light his way as he followed the magic.
Until it disappeared and he was in a small clearing. The sun was just setting, the light shining its last over the treetops. It reminded him of home.
Just as the stories said, there was a sword sitting in the middle of the glade. He'd never actually seen a real sword before, but this one looked extremely old, and rusty. There was a beautiful green jewel set into the top, a little smaller than an egg. The hilt flared out, almost like wings. It was a slender sword, probably able to be wielded one handed if one had the strength, and despite its obvious age, it was beautiful.
He approached it slowly, knowing instinctively that this would be one of the most defining moments of his life. If he was judged worthy, he could go on to become the greatest hero of the land. If he was judged unworthy...well, he didn't want to consider it.
He didn't know what made a hero, or what being worthy meant. He only knew who he was and what he wanted, and surely that had to count for something?
He reached out and grasped the sword with both hands, took a deep breath, and pulled.
There was a flash of light, and for a moment he thought he felt someone standing near him, leaning into his side, sliding an arm around his waist, pressing lips to his cheek. He could smell something sweet, like the water he'd taken from the lake. It felt like bliss, and ecstasy, and happiness. He never wanted it to end.
But a moment later it did. And he was holding the sword. It fit perfectly to his hand, like it was made to be an extension of his arm.
He gazed at it for several minutes before realizing that night had fallen and the moon was casting light off the sword, making it dance in patterns and jumps across the grass.
He suddenly felt exhausted. It had been a long day, but he finally had the sword. He had been found worthy. He could go to Misthaven and perhaps become the hero he was foretold to be.
He didn't remember falling asleep, but before he knew it his eyes had drifted shut and he'd slumped across the grass, clutching his treasure close.
/\
/\/\
Birdsong and light woke Killian the next morning. He blinked his eyes open, yawning and stretching as he looked around the clearing. He'd glanced down at his sword before his head shot up and did a double take.
"I wondered when you would notice me," the dry, feminine voice said.
There was a woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen (although his experience in that area was rather limited) sitting a few feet away from him, plucking at the grass with long, graceful fingers. She wore a solid white dress with long trailing sleeves and a high neckline. Her hair, a pure gold, cascaded in waves down her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of the forest, a beautiful green dotted with gold, like sunlight shining through a canopy of leaves.
"Are you just going to gawk at me? We need to get going."
He blinked a few times to make sure it wasn't a dream. "Pardon." His voice sounded rusty, like he hadn't had water in days. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Pardon." That sounded better. "Who are you? And where are we going?"
She rolled her eyes and rose to her feet. He found the gesture strangely charming.
She walked towards him and held her hand out. "I should think it was obvious. We're going to Misthaven."
He gripped her hand and let her pull him up. He was surprised when she didn't immediately let go. "And what am I to call you, milady?"
She smiled, and he felt as if he was drowning, or falling, or soaring, all at once.
"Call me Emma."