The Archdemin Epic: How to Not Be The Chosen One

“I’ll figure it out,” I said, bored out of my mind. 

The wizard slumped in his chair and covered his face with both hands before letting out a weary sigh. Karl was supposedly the best wizard around, but his magic only worked half the time and his sorry excuse of a wand happened to be a knotted twig. He blamed it on his age. I had a few other theories. “By Fandor’s beard, you will. The fate of the Archdemin lies in your hands.”

“That’s BS and we both know it,” I said, raising my eyebrows at him. “You think I’m going to be able to save the world? It’s been two weeks and I still can’t find the right stick. How do I even know you’re a real wizard, anyways?”

“Because the Irln has called me.”

‘The Irln has called me’ a high-pitched voice in my head mocked. Couldn’t the Irln at least have led the old wizard to live in a better house? The cabin that Karl lived in was musty, dusty -- and trust me -- about to fall apart.

“Right. I forgot about the talking trees in the middle of the woods that supposedly know everything that was, is and will be.”

“Mocking the Irln has consequences,” he noted gravely. “You remember last week, don’t you?”

“Oh, Great and Mighty Karl,” I responded, leaning up against the rickety table and crossing my arms.

He interrupted, “It’s Karill.”

“Karill, Karl. Potato, potato. That’s beside the point. The only reason those bees chased us was because you stepped on their nest.”

“I only do as the Irln commands me to do.”

“The Irln wanted you to have an anaphylactic reaction to bee stings in the middle of nowhere? Now I’ve really heard it all.”

“You,” Karl said, standing up with a grunt. Here it was, the daily lecture. “You are a terrible student. You mock the only sacred things left in this world, and when it comes down to it, you hold no regard for the lives of the people around you. You are selfish, foolish, and utterly useless.” He waved his wand for emphasis. “You must become selfless, wise, and respected.”

“You want me to become a hero? Is that what I'm hearing? Doesn't that involve overcoming a ‘fatal flaw’ and saving the world? I don't know Karl, that sounds like a lot of work," I deadpanned.

“You’re going to have legends written about you one day, and children will look up to you. You will be one of the Greats, as I was.”

“And look how that ended. ‘The Greats’ need to upgrade their retirement package.”

He ignored me. I’d wounded the old man, and now he was going to sulk.

“We’re just too different, Karl! You picked up magic like that!” I snapped my fingers. “And I’m, and cut me some slack because I’m paraphrasing, ‘a selfish and utterly useless fool’,” I said, using air quotes for good measure. “I’m not a hero and never will be.”

“You doubt the power of the Irln,” he replied sagely, before shuffling across the room, midnight robes flaring behind him as he walked. A fire started in the stove with a flick of his wrist, and shortly after, the kettle was screaming, begging to be put out of its misery. 

The Irln hadn’t called me to save all of the Archdemin in a quest that would be told in epics for generations to come. No. It had called me to babysit a bad-smelling, self-righteous old man who was about to hit his expiration date. If I was going to be a hero, it would only be to retirees.

After Karl had prepared his tea, he sat down in the rocking chair again. 

“Ready to waste the afternoon away?” I asked.

Karl stared at me, sipping his tea. He was giving me the silent treatment. I added ‘petty’ to the growing list of adjectives that described him. 

I sighed loudly and closed my eyes, stretching my hands over the assortment of potential wands that were spread over the half-rotted table. Supposedly, I was finding a wand that ‘called to me’, but honestly, I think Karl just liked making me look stupid. 

“This hasn’t worked the last forty times I’ve done it.” No retort from Karl. “Isn’t the definition of insanity doing something over and over again and expecting different results?” Still nothing. My hands floated above the gnarled sticks. The more I passed over them, the more the irritation inside of me grew. “You know, I think most people feel sorry for you, Karl. I really do. And if they don’t, they should, me being your only company and all.”

There was a small whoosh of air, and before I could react, I’d been smacked upside the back of my head. My eyes flew open, and I yelped. Karl was towering over me, a furious calm in his eyes. Apparently, I’d hit a nerve.

He waved his arm, and the door flew open and almost off its hinges. It was one of the only times that I’d seen such a blatant display of power from the humble wizard. “Go. Do not come back until sundown. Maybe the trees will appreciate your banter.”

I rubbed the back of my head and then shrugged. “Maybe they will.”

And just like that, I had gotten out of training. 

The forest, for the record, appreciated my banter much more than Karl did. I wandered through dense thickets, around self-conscious poplars, and in between stubborn maples. 

“The Irln wants this, the Irln wants that. Has anyone stopped to think about what I want?” I asked a squirrel. It sat twenty feet above me in one of the aforementioned maples, nibbling on a nut of some sort. “No. Nobody has asked. They just showed up, and went ‘Here! You get to save the world now!’ and then dumped me in a crappy old cabin with a crabby old man. And, get this. They expect me to have a good attitude about it.”

The squirrel seemed to agree with me. At what point, I didn't know. But he did agree with me, and that's what mattered. 

“As if it’s easy to have a good attitude when you’re powerless.”

“We hear you,” a woman’s voice said. “We understand.”

I narrowed my eyes, suddenly on the alert. “Who is that?”

“But you do not get to deny the natural order of things,” a man joined. 

Great. Now I was as crazy as Karl. “The natural order of things,” I scoffed.

“Is it really so bad to have a purpose? Many wander through life without one.” Was that a child’s voice speaking?

Voices in the woods. It wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened. (I lived with Karl, for Heshen’s sake.) “I’m sorry, but I really wasn’t consulted when the ‘natural order of things’ picked out my destiny. The free trial has been fun, but I’d like to return it now.”

“You mock what you do not understand,” the man said.

No. Not a man. The Irln. I spun around, for the first time noticing the clearing I was in, and the faces that had somehow magically appeared on the trees. 

“I think I understand it enough,” I replied. “Enough to know that it makes about as much sense as a camel in a snowstorm.”

The child, who was a young, slender birch, giggled. The old oak tree spoke. “You need to respect-”

“Listen, I know you’re super powerful and definitely super old, but honestly, if we could get to the part where you appoint someone else as the chosen one and I get to go home, that would be great. Thanks.”

The oak tree fumed.

“You must come to terms with the path that has been set before you,” the woman spoke. She was a willow, short, and her branches covered in blossoms. “We can help you.”

“Oh yeah?” If by help me, they meant ‘help you become who we want you to be’, then yes, they would be very helpful.

“Karill has told us you have been struggling,” the oak admitted smugly.

The birch smiled in excitement. “We have a gift for you. If you would accept it.”

“Sure, why not.” I had nothing better to do with my time. Might as well talk to the ancient, sentient flora.

At my feet, a staff began to sprout. It elongated until its height reached the tip of my nose. It broke off at the base, and I grabbed it before it fell. Buds burst into bloom at the tip, and I felt power buzz through my fingertips and up my arm. 

“Oh,” I said, feeling a kind of wonder. So this was what Karl had talked about. 

“Go out and do good,” the willow said in blessing. “You are the future of the Archdemin.”

The oak added, “You stand with the power of the Irln behind you.”

I paused for a moment. “Power of the Irln, huh?”

The birch’s branches swayed. 

“What’s the point of all this power if I don’t get to decide what I want to do with it?”

The forest went eerily silent. The willow looked suddenly worried. But the gift had been given. A grin tugged at the edge of my mouth. I tapped my staff on the ground, and wisps of smoke spiraled around my feet. 

Power.

If only they hadn’t been so intent on getting me to fight their battles. Maybe then they would’ve remembered that they’d not only given me a sword, but taught me how to use it as well.

*****

Branches crackled and sang as I walked away from the growing blanket of heat. Squirrels leaped from trunk to trunk, making a desperate attempt to flee from the smothering flames. Ashes rained down from the sky; the power of the Irln had been its own undoing. They had given, and I had received. The power was mine, and I had chosen my own path. 

Karl had been right: I would be one of the Greats, and there would be epics written in my name.