The five Chosen sit in their quarters, wide awake despite the late hour. Dawn is breaking on the horizon the sky filled with blue and greens, soft clouds encapsulating the glow.

  Sleep refused to come, too much has happened, too much has changed, too many questions clawing at their thoughts.

  The room dim, lit only by the faint glow of the wall panels and the pale sun rise slipping through the tall windows. Everyone shuffles awkwardly looking around, the apprehension of what today will bring clouding their mind.

  “What do you think happened out there?” Lazarus asks breaking the endless silence. He leaned forward on his bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his eyes fixed on Samantha, believing she has all the answers. “You said you saw a bright light, what kind of light?”

  “It was not lightning,” Freya said. “It felt... alive.” Freya butted in before Samantha could answer, her voice thoughtful. “It was there barely for a second. A flash that covered the whole horizon, but it came out of nowhere. I have never seen anything like it.”

  “I certainly could not explain it even if I tried.” Samantha added shaking her head. “One moment the horizon was dark, being swallowed by the night, then the almighty flash, then nothing.”

  “Tyron is safe.” Zara said quietly. “So the only thing it could have been was a Shoven attack, maybe they found him first?”

  Cid frowned grabbing at the knape of his neck, feeling his hairs stick up. “Or maybe it was his sword. These weapons... they are not normal. Who knows what they could be capable of.”

  No one answered, silence filled the air, heavy, awkward. One by one they laid back down. Staring at the ceiling, the gold details around the edge picked out by the amber warmth coming from the lights in the room. They all let exhaustion pull them under, all falling into a light sleep drifting off one by one.

  Then, footsteps distant but echoing the halls.

  The scrape of metal from scuffed feet walking through it sounded like a few pairs of feet.

  “So they leave in the morning?” One guard says out loud.

  “Yeah, that is right,” another replied. “They are our last hope, supposedly. If they fail... we might as well lay our swords down and surrender.”

  “Absolutely not.” The first guard scoffed in anger. “I would rather die, than let those things break us.”

  A pause, as all the Chosen look to the door, carefully listening.

  “So... how exactly did they save Tyron?”

  The Chosen suddenly leap out of bed, they press their ears to the door trying to hear something.

  “Ow,” yells Zara. “Careful Lazarus, that was my foot.” She yelps as they all try and huddle around the door. Trying not to make it too obvious that they are eaves dropping. Ears straining to hear every word.

  “The Elder said something about the future version of...” he pauses. “Did you hear something?” The guard says, conversation stopping dead.

  They all cover their mouths in the quarters, hiding their breath as much as they could.

  “Let's keep moving, we will talk later.”

  The voices fade back into the distance of the base, rejoined by beeps, and the general hum of the base.

  Samantha stepped back, her brow furrowed. The others drifted aimlessly around the room, restless, confused.

  “Guys.” Zara said seriously, pulling all of their attention. “We will find out tomorrow, but right now we all need rest.”

  Zara gets into bed and switches off the light beside her bed, all follow suit after, well all except one, Samantha, she stays awake her head swirling making sense of it all.

  The others grumbled softly, burying their faces deep into their plush pillows. Although the sun was coming up it was the summer months in the northern mountain range. Meaning that the sun rose early, very early, sometimes it didn't even set in these parts and the day would never end, it would just merge into the next day.

  Sunlight soon poured through the tall windows, warm and bright, soaking everything before it in a pale blue and cyan tones created by the blue sun on Shahero.

  Samantha had finally to surrender to sleep, exhaustion fighting confusion, but this was disturbed by the royal guard entering the room.

  “Breakfast is being served in the Great Hall, we will begin preparing for departure.”

  One by one the Chosen begin to awake, the door slowly closes behind him. He left without another word the Chose sit around in a heavy silence, all slowly getting dressed in the same garbs they have worn for several days, their clothes now grubby, grimy, dirt, dust and sweat with a slight musky smell.

  They gathered at the door, waiting for everyone to get ready. The last one ready is Samantha, as they would find is a common occurrence as they progress through the quest.

  The step out of the doors together, out into the busy hallway, guards running through getting everything ready, jostling by the Chosen trying not to nudge them. The constant sound of five sets of feet echoing.

  “So did we all sleep well?” Zara asked politely, yet no one answered.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  They step into the hall, it was a buzz, tables laden with food ready for the Chosen to feast before leaving, plates glistening gold, drinks that seemed to be endless, some guards were stood around eating and conversing, until they see the Chosen walk in and all conversations extinguish like a flame being smothered. The anticipation hangs in the air like electric, this has been a day planned for years, an event painted into history long before any of the Chosen knew.

  Samantha looks to the guards feeling slightly she is being watched, people talk in a low whisper. There is a sense in the air that the Chosen are not like them, they are not just people, they are a symbol of freedom.

  The Chosen sit together, exhaustion forgotten as they filled their plates They pile their plates to precarious levels, they know it may be a while till they can eat like this again.

  They ate in silence mostly, hunger overtaking thoughts.

  “Zara...” Samantha whispered across the table to her. “I had another vision last night.” She says cramming food in to her mouth.

  Zara looked up instantly. “What happened?”

  Samantha hesitated, “I do not know. It was... different, like my abilities were being blocked.” She says in a hushed tone. “It was like time did not want me too see, does that make sense?”

  “That seems different to what we have seen before? Are you sure it was a vision?” Zara asks.

  “It certainly felt like a vision, I saw me, and I saw you, and another woman. Did you have a vision?” Asks Samantha.

  “No not me,” she says shaking her head in an uneasy way.

  Samantha looked down unsettled, she thinks to herself but she doesn't have much time before the Great Hall doors creak open.

  A woman walks in with a confident stride, a light smile peaks from under a hood. Beside her limps Tyron, damaged but alive.

  “Tyron!” Zara shrieked in excitement too see him.

  Tyron smiles calmly crossed the room, and sat down as if nothing was a miss. He began piling food onto his plate.

  “I am sorry, is that it?” Lazarus asked incredulously. “Nothing to say?”

  Tyron shrugs. “It is over.” Tyron replied with a ending tone. “It is in the past.” His hand tightened around the fork briefly, knuckles whitening then relaxed.

  “I watched your ship fall, we all did, smoke billowing from behind.” Lazarus questions further.

  “I do not really know what you want me to say Lazarus.” Tyron asks sternly.

  “Oh, I do not know, maybe how come you have just appeared with some woman in armour and beautiful blonde hair, like what happened out there.” Lazarus says in an angry tone, but trying to stay cool.

  “Sorry Lazarus, I can not say too much yet.” In an even sterner voice, trying to shut him down.

  “No, of course not.” Lazarus places his cuttlery down. “I do not have much of an appetite right now.” He stands up and walks out of the Great Hall letting the door close slowly behind him out of respect of the others.

  “What is his problem?” Tyron says chuckling to himself.

  Silence follows, no one wants to put an answer to Tyron.

  Tyron glanced across the hall as future Samantha approaches the Elder.

  “Well, I think it is time for you to return to your timeline.” The Elder says in a hushed tone to not arouse suspicion.

  The air bends around her, almost like time is distorting as she stands here in the hall with her past self present.

  “We need to talk first.” She replier. “I had a vision last night, cloudy but clean enough to make out details.”

  The candles flickered around her, leaning in towards her, almost like a sign for her to stay quiet.

  “What kind?” The Elder asked, now intrigued.

  “I am killed, well not me, my past self is killed. I was there watching it, and Zara it's her.”

  The Elder pinches the bridge of his nose, almost like trying to relieve a pressing headache. “By Zara?”

  “Yes... when she turns.” She whispers not to be heard. She looks at Zara as she says it, Zara talking to everyone at the table. “Not by choice, I must add, but by pressure, forced, and we helped it happen.”

  The Elder sits thinking for what seems like minutes. “Why is it everytime we try to make a change something else happens, is that the balance?” he looks to the table where the Chosen are eating and laughing together.

  He turns back to Samantha face more serious. “Then you must go. Find the place, save yourself, and please Samantha try to save Zara again.”

  Samantha nods. “I will not fail you.” she said turning away.

  Present day Samantha stared after her as she leaves the room. “Who was that?” she whispers to Tyron, who is sat next to her a chill ran through her spine, it had nothing to do with fear or panic, but something else something unusual.

  “That is who rescued me.” Tyron says quietly. “She is pretty cool.”

  “Will we see her again?” Samantha asked eagerly.

  “I really do not know... but I hope so.” Tyron says with a smile on his face.

  The Elder walks up to the table. “Come, it is time.” he says with a stern tone of command. “Collect Lazarus and meet us in the armour.” He says to one of the guards.

  The follow the Elder in to the armour. Each of the Chosen was fitted carefully.

  Freya received a green cloak edged in gold, along with white and gold armour.

  Tyron donned a lighter version of the Royal Guard armour and a red cloak, embroidered with gold edging.

  Samantha was given the matching white and gold armour, a flowing skirt, a white cloak and a new holster, this time without an added tracker.

  Cids armour was leather, flexible, light, and built for combat.

  Lazarus received a dark grey cloak, armour with reduced armour panels to help with crouching and stalking, and a harness for his rifle.

  Zara was given lighter armour, a white and gold leather quiver, and a cloak red in colour designed to blend into many environments.

  As they all stood there he armour felt heavier than it was, maybe it finally feels more real now, they are a team for now.

  The Elder surveyed them pride in his eyes with a hint of something else.

  “The Chosen.” He said softly. “May the Gods of Shahero guide you.”

  The doors open leading them out to the hangar, packed with Royal Guards, stood shoulder to shoulder, leaving a path for the Chosen to walk through, the anticipation is thick as it fills the air. Silent whispers and mumbles as they walk through.

  They come to a stop in front of Genera Sumner. “Let the Gods of Shahero guide you.” General Sumner shouts.

  Suddenly a course of voices echo in the small hangar. “Let the Gods of Shahero guide you.”

  The Chosen look to the ships waiting for them to propel them in to adventure, the ships elegant white, with the trade mark gold filigree around all of those smooth curved shapes. The Chosen exchange awkward looks between each other, excitement, but terrified of what they around about to endure.

  The each step aboard and look back into the hangar and to the Royal Guards for one last time, as General Sumner gives them each a look one by one. The last glance before their lives change.

  They step into the ships as the doors slide shut with a hiss and an audible thunk as it connects.

  The ships life, engines roar one by one each time echoing through out the hall.

  The ships exit the hangar, carrying them towards separate trials.

  And toward the price none of them yet understand.

  Thanks for reading!

  Every time someone spends a few minutes in the world of Shahero, it honestly means more than I can properly put into words. Seeing people follow the journey of Tyron, Samantha, Lazarus, Freya, Cid, and Zara makes all the hours of writing worth it.

  If you enjoyed the chapter, feel free to leave a comment or follow the story. I read every comment, and it genuinely helps the story reach more readers here on Royal Road.

  A few people have also asked how they can support the project as I work toward eventually publishing the book. If that’s something you’d like to help with, there’s a support link below that goes toward editing and preparing the story for print.

  No pressure at all though—reading the story is already huge support.

  Question for readers:What moment in this chapter stood out to you the most?

  See you in the next chapter.

  — Matthew Cooke-Sumner